Hello friends,
Well, it’s been about seven months since my last monthly newsletter. I think at this point it’s safe to categorize monthly newsletters in the “Anna’s never going to be motivated to stick to that schedule” slot in my life (which is a large one. This is why I work for myself, and live in Africa). But! Feast your eyes upon your seven-monthly newsletter…and if the next one is more prompt, then it will seem like I’m fabulously organized, won’t it!
So, life in Kenya is GOOD. It is often very difficult, but always rewarding. My work has expanded in massive ways these past months. In addition to running the volunteer homestay (which has housed over 20 volunteers already) and staying involved with my original home-based care program for HIV women, I have branched into several new pursuits, which include working with a development NGO by Masai Mara national park (slightly akin to getting paid to lounge on the beach), schmoozing in bars with hookers (yes, I do this on a professional basis), and working with an international advertising agency (soulless, but a fun challenge, and I get to wear amazing business suits). And writing copiously the while. So…let’s just say…I’m never bored. I’ve begun driving at last, finally accustomed to that pesky wrong-side-of-the-road, killer-death-traffic Kenyan driving, which is a delightful freedom--lots of six-hour drives back and forth between Nairobi and the Mara; I split my time roughly evenly between them. I’m learning more Swahili and dabbling in a little Maa, the language of the Maasai with whom I work out in the Mara. My little brother Davey came and lived with me for three months this summer, which was heaven; he volunteered at the Mlolongo orphanage, where he played sports with the kids, repaired furniture, and was universally adored. When he left, I bawled on the airport curb, so I’m even managing to maintain my practice of weeping in public on a regular basis. Kudos to me.
How shall I describe my work in the Mara? It is exquisite—to live in the most stunningly lovely of places, to interact with the most intriguing and open of people, to experience so many small and meaningful ways that we make each other’s lives better. “Service oriented” as my pursuits here are, I am continually aware that I am the greatest beneficiary of my work—yes, what I do makes an impact for others, but most of all, my god, it impacts me. I’m working to get an HIV/AIDS program in place at the small clinic we run for the Maasai; on the mamas’ orders, I’ve exchanged my manly trousers for skirts when I visit them; last night I touched a wildebeest who was grazing against my tent window in the wee hours and didn’t feel me gently press my hand against his side through the screen. These things rock my world. It’s so good to be part of an established, yet grassroots, NGO that provides me a platform to do fabulous work I adore. This week I’m running a retreat for middle-aged Australian Seventh-Day Adventist women, with a whole bundle of one-day service projects out in the bush to help the Maasai mamas and expose the mzungu mamas to Real Life in Africa. I love being part of work like this—effective on so many levels.
I’m also making progress on the work with prostitutes. We’ve begun a CBO (community-based organization—the smaller, simpler version of an NGO; we’ll upgrade eventually) and we’re working towards opening a women’s center in Mlolongo to facilitate support groups, rape and violence counseling, continuing education, life coaching, income-generating activities, and whatever else they’re interested in. And I’m learning to write grants. While I fund-raise toward renting a facility, I’m continuing to establish connections with the sex workers, lately by going out with them at night. Which is a whole new world for Wide-Eyed Anena. There’s no pimping around here; the sex workers operate independently from bars, so I have begun going out around 2 a.m. to hang out with the girls who didn’t score clients that night while they wait for dawn to catch a bus home. I’m learning a lot about what motivates the girls into prostitution (death of a husband, inability to find a job, etc.), whether they insist on condoms (of course…unless they’re drunk), and if they’d like to be doing something else instead (duh). They’re incredibly open with me. I do have to dress shlumpily though—tragically, this usually means showing up in whatever I wore that day anyway, not a winning commentary on my personal standards—because if I attract any male attention, shit goes DOWN. I love it: it feels like my niche, the work I’m supposed to do, the place I can really make a difference. I can’t wait to open the women’s center. We’re going to accomplish big things.
Don’t want to ramble too long, or I’ll never finish this and it’ll be another seven months before I try again. So in closing let me refer you to several websites: msnbc, which just ran a story on me, at http://worldblog.msnbc.msn.com/archive/2009/10/08/2092946.aspx; the page for the CBO, which we decided to call Women’s Empowerment Development Agency (establishing a narrow victory over Hookers R Us…), at www.wedakenya.org; and my blog, where you can get the weekly haps, at www.hawfield.blogspot.com.
So like I said—life in Kenya is good! On a personal level, my lessons continue—learning to say no, to nurture my own needs first (wow, what a big one); continuing to process the loss of my marriage; leaping back into supporting myself financially; being so far from my loved ones—it’s challenging, yet every day I see people living truly miserable lives, which breaks my heart and helps me keep my own life in perspective. It’s not all rainbows here. But just this morning at breakfast I heard a woman saying the elements required for happiness are meaningful relationships, a sense of purpose, and an engaged life—and I thought, well, I guess that explains why I’m so happy. Because I’ve got all those in spades. And that’s a pretty damn good way to live.
So y’all come visit sometime. In the meantime, thanks for the care and support!
Peace, Anna/Anena
the WEDA founding meeting, at my home, August
helping with a measles immunization clinic in the Mara
Davey and me on safari in July
cooking dinner over my little charcoal stove in the backyard
why I'm the wealthiest woman in the world. (yes. I live here.)
