africraigs

It is a relief to be able to pull out a wallet and hand over a £20 note without worrying who is scrutinizing your dosh. There is no batting an eyelid, either, when I go out running. I have taken full advantage of not being ogled at and been running each day since returning.
I was paranoid about how I’d feel about coming back to the ‘West’, but so far, I have enjoyed the simple pleasures of life in a country where things work (for the most part). I mean, seeing workmen in safety overalls (with BAM written on the back of their jackets for some reason) fixing street lights has amazed us. As has seeing cones on the pavement further down the road warning people of a ‘trip hazard’. Watching traffic follow the rules of the road and being able to anticipate cars stopping at a red light or staying in the one lane around a roundabout is a refreshingly enjoyable experience. I have even felt courageous enough to drive again, after a year not being behind a wheel in Kenya. My only experiences of driving in Kenya was learning to ride a motorbike, the traffic system confusing me so much that I crashed twice. The fear of traffic coming at you from all angles coming down the ‘wrong’ side of the road or taking short-cuts by driving down the pavement has vanished! In fact, life is a little more predictable (and some would say a bit less exciting…). And you will probably likely live longer in the UK as there is less chance in dying in a nasty accident.

Trip-hazards for stick-men

Amelie can't resist the hot chocolates

Am-Z dressed to go out

Out in the Englandshire countryside

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Grandpa cuddles Amelie who loves patterned jumpers

Granny Plum has been an extra pair of hands for changing Am's dirty bum

Amelie has discovered football on telly

Most of the Burnell clan with the Craigs

Matt-shoe finds a way to quieten Amelie

Am writing this from a rainy Nairobi to prepare us for the UK with a few hours left in this country… we’ve had a busy week in Nairobi after catching the train here last week...

Our house from the train

Enjoying the carriage

Enjoying the view

Goodbye Kisumu!

train final

arriving in Nairobi

The past few weeks have felt like a rollercoaster of things to do, packing, repacking, unpacking, and goodbyes, which leaves us feeling tired and a bit weary.

Baby swap

orongo classroom

mama orongo

mama jos2

I would love to be writing this with a clear plan and time scale of our next steps, with our year in Kenya nicely wrapped up with a bow, and an impressive Powerpoint presentation of ‘what we’ve learnt’ ready to go… but I guess life’s sometimes not as clear as that, and amidst a general feeling that we can return to Africa, there are still so many question marks hovering nearby. Probably more question marks than this time a year ago, and amongst all the goodbyes and busyness, it’s hard to find the time & space to seek the next step or 2.

Thinking back over our time in Kisumu, there is a mixture of things we will and won’t miss when we are back in the UK…
We will miss:
The sunshine, our garden, the slower pace of life, our neighbourhood, our friends, our cats,

naughty kitty

orongo classroom

kisumu 4

kisumu 3

kisumu 1

kisumu2

We will not miss…
The constant attention, the constant strong advice on parenting, the neighbour’s barking dog, the faff of filtering water to avoid cholera or typhoid, the sermons which require earplugs, people pushing in queues, climbing in and out of a mosquito net to feed Amelie, the heat and hassle...

So, that is that. A year of new experiences and new ideas. A year of difficulties and frustrations. A year of fun and new friends. We are so thankful to God for keeping us safe especially while giving us a beautiful gift of a daughter. Thanks to all of you who have travelled with us in our Kenyan journey...

smiley fish

smiley baba

For me, 30 degrees and hot sunny weather never makes me feel Christmassy. The cold, dark, dreich nights in Edinburgh where the windows are filled with Christmas trees and bright coloured lights makes me feel much more festive. Dropping into a cosy, warm café for a seasonal hot chocolate is one of my favourite things (especially since it feels like your body must have worked off plenty of calories keeping itself warm, so there is very little guilt). Although the iconic image of waking up to a crisp, snowy Christmas day has never yet occurred for me in Scotland, yet, it’s still a romantic notion that is a distinct possibility in Edinburgh, unlike here, of course…To be honest, I kept forgetting that Christmas was almost upon me here in Kisumu, something I don’t think I could ever do back in the UK, where I was always bombarded by reminders of how many shopping days I still have left till Christmas day.

Actually, the lack of reminders that Christmas day was nearing was one of the best things about being in this tropical town on Lake Vic. I didn’t feel any sense of panic that the big day was around the corner. There was no sense of pressure or depression contemplating the awful truth that I still hadn’t bought a present for my Uncle Donald (who has everything anyway). Jostling about with the focussed, determined crowd along Princes Street realising that your feet are gradually getting more damp is an event that I’m happy to have missed in 2010. A quieter Christmas-time also gives your head a bit of space to reflect on why the 25th of December is a day of celebration in the first place.

Amelie's Christmas meal

Another X-mas tradition here, seemingly, is to wander around the centre of town aimlessly with your family. While driving in a taxi through Kisumu on Christmas, Em and I were astonished to see herds of people walking about around the malls. We have never seen so many people gathered in Kisumu, looking like crowds leaving a football match. Supposedly, it is the one time in the year that some children from outside of town get to come into town with their parents to look around (and do nothing, apparently). I guess those children are the lucky ones, though. Another interesting story we were told was that children are expected to come back to their parents on Christmas bearing gifts. Some kids not lucky enough to have a gift to bring, so end up not going home at all. What a special Christmas cheer that would be for the kids...

While there is definitely not the same amount of glitz and Christmas theatre that there is back in the UK, the little there is seems a bit out of place. At the malls in town, 2 Santa Claus’ dolls stood at the entrance playing American country music, for some unknown reason. At the same mall, some young people from a local church were dressed up as Santa and his elf doing face-painting and handing out sweets. It is a bit weird to see an African Santa Claus and I have never seen a Santa with such good dance moves as this one had. Also, hearing ‘I’m dreaming of a white Christmas’ doesn’t seem as fitting here in Kenya as it does back in Scotland.

Santa and AZ

Sharing sodas and bread with the guards at our estate on Christmas

Dancing with GranPat

Hogmanay revellers

Having a baby here has opened up a pandora’s box of new, but frustrating cultural experiences. Mainly, it involves the white man making a lot of faux- pas according to the way people bring up their newborn here. I suspect if there was a Kenyan social services similar to the one in the UK, wee Amelie Zuri would have been taken from us already…

Amelie Protests at Parental Neglect

It feels that anyone has the right to tell you what it is you should be doing, to the point of physically taking the baby from you to demonstrate. It is all quite infuriating and less than encouraging, when you take the baby out to run an errand or to get some fresh air and old ladies, mamas, young men or anyone and everyone, tell you off and criticise you. Here is a list of things that we are doing “wrong”:

• Babies must always wear socks (even in 30 degrees C).

No socks

• Babies must always be wrapped tightly in several large woollen blankets (even in 30 degrees C).

• The baby’s must wear a woolly hat (even in 30 degrees C).

No hat, no socks. Very bad.

• The baby must be covered in any case, in case someone is trying to bewitch her.

• Babies should not be carried in public by the man, neither should he carry any of the baby’s belongings. This is a woman’s job.

• Babies should never be carried in a sling. It will probably break her spine.

• Newborn babies should stay in the house all day every day for 1 month, 2 months or 4 months depending on who you speak to (I mean, depending on who speaks to you).

• New mothers should on no account leave the house for several weeks.

• A baby should never cry, if he/she is crying, something is very wrong, feed her or take her to the doctor. No, she can’t be hot or tired.

• The mother’s breasts are human pacifiers that must be whipped out anywhere at the first moment a baby utters a whimper.

• The mother is to wear a very tight belt to shrink the uterus.

• The mother is not to wear any bra so as to allow ample milk flow.

• The mother is to drink a lot of hot chocolate and milky tea to produce lots of milk.

• Regardless of her actual name, Amelie will be called ‘Achieng’ (Luo for daytime, when she was born) or ‘Awino’ (a Luo name to signify that Amelie had a cord round her neck at birth!)

Baby in a Basket (not encouraged in any culture)

Okay, I have to admit, this baby in Kisumu saga has annoyed me somewhat as I have a bugbear about being bound by tradition. When tradition and beliefs keep someone from seeing new ideas and possible better ways because ‘That’s not the way we do things around here!’ then someone can really miss out on a real blessing. Are we courageous enough to breakthrough traditional teachings to get to truth? Sometimes I ask myself ‘Who has the vision to welcome change in their lives’????
Yes, that is a real snapshot of the inner workings of my thought processes within my brain when confronted with others who seem set in their ways. I guess I like the idea that change is possible and can be a good thing sometimes.

Anyway, not that Roger our cat has to worry about any of the above with his/her newborn. Moja (Swahili for one, and cleverly rhyming with Roja), was born a few weeks after Amelie. The cat only gave birth to the one kitten, a rarity, so I’ve heard. The incredible thing was that Roger called me up to her labour and Em and I both witnessed her giving birth!

It is very exciting to be so close to new life in this house these days!

kit and kat

Amelie and Moja

Having a new-born baby in the house has given me another reason for being grumpy in the mornings. Not just that though, sometimes the ‘system’ also makes me grumpy…’

The last week I have made it my mission to get all the documents needed that the British High Commission require for little Amelie to get her ‘baby passport.’ We need this official booklet for her to travel out of Kenya, which means we require it before our flight booked for the 24th of January next year. It may seem a long way away, but it is only about 9 weeks away, something which makes me nervous, especially considering how long things can take to process.

Additionally, once the High Commission in Nairobi have all the documents, they send them all to South Africa for processing, the passport returning in 6 weeks. And then, even before sending for processing in South Africa, all 3 of us have to show up in Nairobi for an interview (whatever for, I don’t really know). So, I knew we were already battling for time. Amelie did her part by coming on her due date, but it still didn’t give us much time to spare.

The most important document in the process is Amelie’s birth certificate. Before getting this, the birth notification from hospital has to get to the District Commissioner’s office in town.

This wasn’t straightforward, as the forms are only sent at the end of each month from the hospital, and the hospital has very strict ‘procedures’. Eventually, I spoke to the person who sent the forms to the district commissioner’s office where the birth certificates get processed. He allowed me to take the birth notification in person, giving me the contact of a guy there who would help me.

That sounded straight-forward and I thanked God for how it was working out. Next on the list, I had to get that birth certificate processed asap. The guy in the office who was called ‘Rasta’ by everyone (due to his hairstyle), told me that because I wanted the certificate pronto, it was obviously cost more money. Instead of the 150 shillings (about £1.20), it would cost 5000 shillings (£40). Knowing nothing about the way things work for a birth certificate, I agreed, handing over the cash, but asking him to make sure I get a receipt.

Rasta phoned me to tell me the birth certificate was ready the next day, which was incredible! I had told a few of my Kenyan friends about the situation of needing the birth certificate and how much it would cost. They were shocked at the price for the birth certificate and were a little suspicious. Sensing a dodgy deal, my colleague Sam said he would accompany me to pick up the certificate and claim the official receipt to make sure everything was in order.

On going to the office, the Rasta noticed me and clocked Sam as well. He produced the certificate, whereupon I insisted on the receipt. Strangely, he didn’t have it, but told us to wait, while he went to another office to pick up the receipt. On coming back, he gave me the receipt, but seemed edgy and nervous. He didn’t leave us, but was keen on speaking to Sam and told him so in Luo (the local language).

Sitting down together, Rasta talked at length with Sam in Luo. I could only pick up bits and pieces, so was only partly aware of what was going on. Incredibly, though, Rasta was confessing everything to Sam, saying that the whole thing was a scam in collusion with the man at hospital and the man who wrote the receipt from the different office.
Sitting there, I found it a pretty weird experience to be part of, I felt quite awkward and somehow sad at the situation.
It turned out that Rasta believed Sam to be a part of the Kenya Anti-Corruption team and was extremely worried about his job. He knew that we could go to his superior and explain what had taken place, costing him his job. Without any compulsion, he gave back the money. Sam told me later Rasta was so worried, he would probably have given us 4 times that amount if we had pushed him. However, Sam and I told him as Christians, we were able to forgive, only that he needs to watch what he is doing at work from now on. He never knows who he is trying to scam next…

So, that was that, face-to-face with corruption in the heart of the Kenyan government system. A corruption that rots the country and stops it from moving forward. A local newspaper reported that an adult Kenyan pays around 16 bribes a month. In fact, I understand that a significant proportion of what an average Kenyan earns goes towards bribes and paying the ‘system’. I see it most often when matatu (bus) drivers and their touts leave 100 shillings in the palm of the police (ever so subtly) when the police stop them on the road. Kenya is near the top of the most corrupt countries in the world, a fact which the newspapers attest to daily. The amount of scandals and allegations about missing money makes me angry every time I pick up the paper or watch the news. Missing money for free primary school education or missing money for maize for a needy population. How can people be so callous and greedy? Kenya is a country where 80% of the people say they are Christian. It is hard to believe, if it is true, then Christians need to start following the values of God who says: Deuteronomy 25:16 For the LORD your God detests anyone who does these things, anyone who deals dishonestly.

The corruption busting baby

Amelie and mum in the sun

Amelie after first bath

Amelie's favourite dad