Chateau de Kenya

Some of the windows don't close all the way. There are a few light bulbs missing. The tank to the latrine keeps leaking. The kitchen cabinets only shut when I slam them, and almost pull my arm out of the socket to open them. There is paint everywhere there shouldn't be. In the sinks, on the electrical sockets and on the floor. Some of the rooms have spaces where there should be electrical outlets, but instead they are just covered up. It's my new house and it's perfect.  
I can now blast music as loud as my little Dell computer will let me. I can smoke inside. I can light my jiko in one room and walk into another to watch a movie, or go lay down for a nap. I can do house hold activities in all the rooms that these actions were designated for.
This is paradise. 
After spending 9 months literally living on top of my things, the comfort of being able to spread out is almost intimidating. But only for a second, cause then I realize that I can dance over here in this corner, or not wear pants walking from this room to that room or wash ANYTHING inside. Most importantly though, it makes me finally want to be here. After a day of struggling with language, or multiple people commenting on my appearance in a not so polite manner I can walk inside close the door and know that I am completely alone to my own devices. I can say what I want to my friends on the phone and know that no one is listening. I can be my weird inappropriate and disgusting self in here. It feels like home. 

What Would've Been

The Kenyan Presidential elections are right around the corner. With my possible evacuation on the heels of this event I can only reflect on my past 9 months in Kenya as the time when I lived in a Hobbit Hole. Today I slinked into the house that has been dangling in front of my face since August to snap some snaps. If I have to leave here suddenly I at least want some of the world out there to know that I could have lived like an American in Kenya. I just didn't. 

Disclaimer: I had no control over how it was painted. It looks like a hospital because it was built by a hospital. 

View from the back door into the living room. Look at that cute little kitchen window.

Looking in the living room from the other side of the room.

My bathroom vanity in the hallway. Yes that is a mirror and a sink with running water. 

Closets. There is one of these in each of the two bedrooms. It would've meant me not storing things in suitcases like a hobo anymore. 

Cute picture from my cute little kitchen window. 

My kitchen where I could have cooked and cut things on counters. 

Yes you see that correctly.

And electricity.

The best part. A FLUSHABLE latrine. 

The salt to the wounds. A hot shower. 

I've spent most of my time these last 7 months forgetting this place existed because it made living in the Hobbit Hole bearable.  I have to walk past it everyday just to go anywhere. Now it will simply haunt my dreams. 

Another List!

Peace Corps Kenya Is…

-Holding your laptop over your head to catch the signal so your page can load.
-Is never having clean feet. 
-Eating things off the ground even though you know you shouldn’t. I AM that starving kid in Africa. 
-When you consider a french braid your “fancy” hairstyle.
-Knowing that indoor plumbing is a blessing, not a right.
-Accepting that their will always be some urine on your shoes. --Hopefully it is at least your own. 
-Using the floor to cut, cook and eat your food on. 
-Becoming comfortable with all the smells your body creates. 
-Watching all the X-Men movies in one day. Yes, that includes “Wolverine” and “First Class”.
-Putting peanut butter on everything. Including your dirty hand. 

A Family of Wazungu

B: You will be here for a long time. Will you take a Kenyan husband?
Me: Well no. I would miss my family to much. It is a very far distance to stay away.
B: When you say "family" do you mean white people or your parents?
Me: I mean my parents. 

LIMA BEANS!!!

Alright kiddos and kiddettes time to buckle down for some reality.

SEEDS
They are in the Home Depot check out aisle, they are in that weird junk drawer at your parents house they are even in those nondescript bridal shower goodie bags. They are also really expensive here. In Africa. Did I mention Africa?

I'm working with a group of Community Health Workers (CHWs) who are also all volunteers and are also all working for little to no incentive. They simply work to help improve the health of their communities. After many meetings and some problem analysis we have identified one of the more troubling health issues here to be malnutrition. Though my area is extremely fertile and almost everyone is a subsistence farmer there is a lack of protein yielding crops. You can buy beans here yes, but when most survive on less than a dollar a day almost everyone just eats what is in their garden/fields, and there isn't any protein.

The CHWs have all agreed to donate portions of their own land to help start growing lima beans. Once we can establish a good harvest, we hope to be able to sell the seedlings and beans to the community so they may also start growing protein. Thus creating an Income Generating Activity (IGA) while simultaneously improving the health of the community. That is how we end up back at seeds. The CHWs have all contributed some funds for seeds, but unfortunately we are a bit short. I am donating a small contribution, but we need some extra to close the gap.

If you have an extra $5-$10 dollars laying around please email me at iwona.matczuk@gmail.com. I will be documenting the project here so you will be able to follow the progress first hand.

Thanks for reading, and now back to our previously scheduled silliness and ridiculous ramblings. 

2+6=8 Sounds About Right

As I climb the ladder of age and wisdom I realize I'm more or less falling down the stairs of maturity. I eat candy for breakfast, cause I can. I don't want to get out of bed, so I don't. I eat food off the ground, cause I'm not scared to die. And I hate rules, cause they are unfair and mean and you can't tell me what to do.
It isn't that I hate rules as much as I like to break them regardless on whether I think it is a good rule or not. When did this little sister brain of mine win out over the traveled, socialized and educated brain? Not entirely sure. 
Am I de-evolving in Africa? Probably.
My best advice to you if you want to get me to do something is to simply tell me NOT to do it. The secret is out. I have nothing left to hide.
Short of stomping my feet and holding my breath I'm more or less a passing adult, but if you dangle candy in my face I would probably do just about anything at this point. 
Most of the answers to the problems I face each day could end with any of the following answers:
"You're not my mom!"
"Cause I wanna!"
"But why?"
"I'm bored."
"I don't want to eat that, it's icky."

It Does Exist!

Just hanging out on the coffee table in my favorite sweatshirt EVER!!!