Thank You, ONE.

It's a pretty intense thing when you realize that one person or one thing has changed your life. I have gone through a number of changes since I started college three years ago, and as I look back, I can see that ONE has had a lot to do with that. ONE got me involved on my campus and involved in the lives of others but more than that, it completely changed my outlook on life.

The last three years have been a slow progression of me learning about me, determining my beliefs and ideals, and the beginnings of me delving in to politics and all that comes with that. The last month, however, has been another pretty thorough examination of some of my beliefs as well as what I want to do with my life.

On July 25, I left Dulles International Airport equipped with all of the information I could need, an army of friends and colleagues, and scared to death. I had no idea what Kenya would be like, no idea what I would learn, and while I had met the ONE Staff were were joining in Kenya before, I barely remembered them and, to be honest, ONE Staff kind of scares the crap out of me. I would give anything to be as smart and talented as the people in that office.

Kenya was an extraordinary experience for me, and when I arrived home on August 2, my brain was so full I could barely pull together the pieces to tell the stories. I think my family still has no idea what I did in Kenya.

The five of us were back in DC this week for trip debriefing and basic project prep (as well as Campus Outreach Ambassador (COA) training), and I was really sad to leave on Friday morning. We learned a lot; got to talk a little more policy (always one of my favorite things), start to really think about our projects, and when 6 of the other COA's joined us for training, we were able to really explore the Campus Challenge and delve in to what we would love to see happen this year on college campuses across the country.

We held a Brown Bag Lunch for the ONE Staff, where we got to talk all about Kenya, what we learned there and even the fun things we did. It was a complete honor for us when we realized that David Lane, CEO of ONE, had come in the back door of the conference room and sat down on the floor because he wanted to hear about our trip just as much as the rest of the ONE Staff did.

While everything we did and learned over the past two days was great, my fondest memory will most definitely be of being in the office and experiencing the staff. To tell you the truth, most of them still intimidate the heck out of me, and I'm sure some of them are thrilled that we're no longer running around the office distracting everyone, but it is my hope that everyone we encountered in the last two days know how much it means to me, to all of us, that we were able to sit down and talk to anyone that was willing and had the time to answer our endless array of questions.

ONE has really changed me. As my knowledge of ONE's issues continues to grow, I get more and more comfortable with myself and my ability as an advocate. It's a great feeling, and I hope that every intern, COA and Campus Leader gets to feel the way that I do about ONE.

So thank you, to all of you. To Chandler, for helping us communicate well. To Christopher, for being a wonderful source of laughter and a fantastic Field Organizer. To Lisa, for letting us pepper you with questions and for sending them flying back. To Maura, for putting up with us no matter how crazy we got, and for always managing to have a smile on your face. To Josh, for the DATA. To Emily, for being our internet guru and someone we can always talk to. To Tyler, for being one of the greatest leaders I have known, and for that amazing sense of humor. To Nora, for enjoying our company and showing it, and for being one of the smartest people I have ever met. And to Maisie, for being our fearless leader, our OCC genius, and for always wanting to hear from us just as much as we want to hear from you.

It has been an honor and a privilege to have been a part of ONE thus far. I can't wait to continue my journey with the organization and see where it takes me.

Back to Reality

It has barely been four full days since I returned from Kenya, and I am already itching to return. I want their food, made out of natural things, instead of ours, which is made out of crap, and I want to sit under a beautiful tree with a beautiful person and talk about our lives. These are not things that can currently happen in Vancouver, WA.

This weekend I head for a student government retreat, and I'm not at all excited. People are being picky about their food, they are being petty about things that shouldn't matter - don't they realize how lucky they are? They have a bed to sleep in every night, food to eat every day, and they don't need to worry about whether walking outside after a certain hour will cause them harm. No one I know has to sell their body for food and shelter, in fact, most of their parents pay for all of that. And yet, nothing is really good enough, is it?

I've been catching myself thinking certain things. "There is no food in this house." "There is no way I'm going to be able to sleep with my brother and his friend talking through the wall." I always catch myself though. "There is plenty of food, just not much that you like. If you're really that hungry, you'll find something. How lucky are you to have all of this food at your disposal?" "At least they are in the next room. Imagine if they were in the same room, or even the same bed?"

Whenever people ask, "how was it?" I always beam and tell them my trip was amazing. And it was. It was epic, amazing, informative, scary, thrilling....and far too short. There is so much more that I want to learn. I want to talk to the people in parliament, I want to meet young women who are able to attend University, I want to spend more time with the women in Kibera. I miss my friends, the ones that I spent ten days with and the ones that I met only once, the women and men that shared their lives with me in Nairobi, Kisumu, Machakos, Nakuru and Kibera.

Is it so much to ask that U.S. Citizens stop taking what they have for granted? It has been hard for me to want to get on the computer, answer my phone, or eat with my family. I just can't seem to wrap my head around certain things that I saw, and I can't seem to make myself connect again with this world I live in. I heard it was going to be hard to adjust, but I didn't guess it would be this hard.

Holding A Hand On The Other Side of the World

I've never missed a location so much in my 21 years. I suppose it isn't just the location, it is the people I met, the folks I was with; the things that I learned. I hadn't even arrived home yet and I wanted to turn around and go back.

The last couple of days have been tough for me. Not only have I missed Kenya, I've been going through somewhat of an emotional rollercoaster. I received bad news when I got off the plane, and a potential friendship has disintegrated in front of my eyes. Yet, I hit my highs when I think about Kenya, and I can't seem to stop grinning. I met such beautiful people and experienced such amazing things; I will never forget this trip.


I've got a lot of thinking to do, and not much time to do it in. How do I use the things that I learned and the stories that I heard to get others involved on my campus? How do I share my experiences without getting upset when people try to compare their trips abroad to mine? Will I ever be able to wrap my head around everything, or will the thoughts keep bouncing off the walls of my overpacked brain?

Our last day in Kenya was spent in Kibera, which was certainly an experience. The group broke up a little, and I spent the day with Binti Pamoja, a womens center for young girls in Kibera. They were putting together an event for the parents, so Nora and I helped them set up a bit for that, but mostly we just learned about the program and asked questions about Kibera. I talked with some girls about what it is like to live in Kibera (“You're born in Kibera, you get married in Kibera, you die in Kibera.”) and some of them talked with me about the 2007 Election and the violence that occurred, which hit Kibera pretty hard. I heard about 2 and 5 year olds that were raped, girls too young to care for themselves that were having children, and bribes from the police that caused both young women and men to do things they never expected they would do.

It's all I can do to keep myself in Vancouver right now. Certain things scare me; I'm a bit of a chicken when it comes to traveling and living in a place that is new to me, but I can feel myself finding the courage within to be someone that helps the women of the world find their potential and grow to be proud of themselves. It's something I'm learning to do on my own, and there's no better way to do something than while holding someone else's hand. Even if that hand is on the other side of the world.

A Meeting of Amazing Minds

Friday, July 31, 2009

I can barely throw my thoughts together. It’s our last night in Kenya, and we’ve just wrapped up an intense and amazing dinner. I was joined by Joshua Wanyama, a Kenyan entrepreneur and blogger, as well as a TED Fellow; Nyokabi Musila, also a blogger, with an interest in public health; Anzetse Were, Program Director for Allavida and author of “Drivers of Violence;” Sejo, whose last name and occupation I missed; Laura Dimon; Tyler Denton and Maura Daley, which led to plenty of interesting discussions - most of which I am still trying to wrap my head around.

Our conversations ranged from what I thought about aid from developed countries to African countries, to how NGOs work in Kenya. We discussed women, and how they are actually becoming more empowered in Kenya than men, because men are no longer considered the head of households or the breadwinner because the women do a lot of the work. I shared with Anzetse the biggest revelation I have had on this trip: not all aid is good aid. It’s not all as sufficient as we might think it is, and it isn’t necessarily that the aid isn’t getting to people because of corrupt governments, it’s that the aid developed countries are giving to countries like Kenya either isn’t enough, so they can’t get ahead, or it isn’t the aid they need, in the right area.

In all honesty, the conversation was pretty intimidating for me. When I’m on my campus or at home I feel like I know a lot, but next to the amazing Kenyans I was sitting with, I felt as if I knew nothing. I don’t think I’ve had that much trouble jumping into a conversation in a long time.

All in all, this trip has been amazing. When I arrive home and have had time to wrap my head around everything, you will hear from me again. Until then, thanks for reading.

To the Women of Kenya:

May you always be maridadi; beautiful.
May you always be the strongest women I have ever met.
May your voices rise above all of the others.
May you forever give birth without pain drugs and continue to be stronger than your white counter parts.
May the water jugs always balance on your head.
May your babies outlive you.
May your children be grateful.
May your husband love you; your in-laws welcome you; your community worship you.
May you never get HIV/AIDS and pass it on to your children unknowingly.
May you never again have to sell your body for food and shelter.
May you always look more beautiful working with your hands than sitting behind a desk.
May you always have a smile that brightens a room.
May you forever live in peace.
May your husband protect you, and may you know how to protect yourself.
May you always sell your fruits and vegetables.
May you always be kind and willing to share.
May you always be maridadi; beautiful.

HIV Testing and Treatment for Kenyan Women

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Today (7/29/09) was spent learning a lot about youth, and visiting a number of facilities that reach out to youth ages 10-21 with HIV counseling and testing, STI treatment, and even male circumcision. The clinics have served over 12,000 women in their family planning program, which teaches parents how to talk with their children about sex and safe sex practices.

Some of the areas have women and children days, where the services, which are always free, focus on the women and children that come to the facilities. There are a number of support groups for single mothers, HIV-positive teens and young adults, and wives in the area.

I spoke to one woman today named Eunice Chacha. She is 22 years old, with two children, and found out she was HIV-positive three years ago. She was always very sick, and finally was tested. When she told her husband, he left her. She found herself alone and sick, with one child and a baby on the way. She attempted suicide twice before the Tuungane Youth Center stepped in and got her free assistance, as well as a support group to talk to. She is now very healthy and strong, and both of her children are HIV free.

I think every woman I met today reminded me that women are very powerful, no matter where they live or what challenges they face. I am eager to see what more I can learn about women in the next couple of days.

The Strength and Beauty of Kenyan Women

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Today, I think I experienced the most intense range of emotions I have ever had.

We spent the day in Kisumu, Kenya, visiting health clinics and homes that have benefited from PEPFAR (the U.S. President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief) funding. Our first stop of the day was Miriu Health Centre, where treatment is free for women and children. The men we talked to were really informed about all aspects of the clinic, including the knowledge that their mother-to-child-transmission rate for HIV is about 5 – 10%, which I think is pretty amazing. When a woman is HIV positive, they start her on antiretroviral medications (ARVs) at around seven months, and then give both her and the baby drugs during labor. The child is tested at six weeks, and then again at 18 months.

One of the other things the clinic provides for women is HIV counseling. When a woman (or man) finds out she is HIV-positive, the doctors offer her counseling to help her learn how to take care of herself. Pregnant and nursing mothers also get counseling to teach them how to take care of themselves and keep their children from contracting HIV. While the clinic has a number of excellent programs to offer women, one thing that they don’t have is space. Their birthing room has two beds in it, there is no privacy, and occasionally there are up to four women in there at one time. There is also no privacy in the maternal room, where women and their children are given vaccinations and other necessary medical care. It is just one large room, and with no funding to fix that, it will most likely stay that way.

Family planning is another one of their wonderful programs, with counseling on HIV/AIDS, contraceptives, safe sex practices, and safe family practices. Mostly women attend, as men are either no longer the head of the household or aren’t interested in attending. The family planning program encourages male involvement, but many men are still not interested in using contraceptives or controlling family size. The average family size in the area around Miriu Clinic is around 4-5 children. Since the men are not interested in family planning, many women receive an injection of birth control; the physician’s assistant said they use Depo-Provera, which is also used in the United States. The injection is easier to hide than birth control, which also has a high rate of failure in the area because many women forget to take it.

I think the most amazing part for me was learning how strong Kenyan women are. There is no medication for when they are in labor, and while they might get a small amount of pain medication after the birth, many women head home within the day. Does that sound like something that would happen in a hospital in the United States? I didn’t think so either.

Two other hard things for me were learning that the youngest mother to give birth in the area was 12 years old, and also that rape is still not reported in Kisumu, or even in Nairobi. Many women still believe that rape is their fault, so they will not say anything about it to anyone.

Later in the day, we arrived in Kagwa to learn about APHIA II (AIDS, Population, and Health Integrated Assistance Program) – Nyanza, and the kind of work they do in the homes they are in. We arrived at the compound of APHIA II workers to women singing and children yelling “Mzungu, mzungu (white person)!” Every single child I met seemed to be fascinated with the color of my skin, the feel of my arms and the texture of my hair. One beautiful little girl named Emma climbed into my lap while the people of the compound spoke to us about HIV/AIDS and how it affects families.

A lot of what we learned on Tuesday helped me to understand how women are seen in Kenya. The part that definitely helped me learn that was our night visit; an unprecedented first visit to an area of town that could essentially be termed the “Red Light District.” We met some peer educators who went around town, both at night and during the day, to talk to people about getting tested for HIV, and then we met some women who made their living as sex workers.

I was nervous to go, because when I think of sex workers, I think of prostitutes, and I think of the ones in the United States. These women were nothing like that. We had a chance to sit down and talk to them, and most of them lost their parents or just had to start making money at a very young age. Most of them are mothers, and most of them insist that their daughters will never live their lives this way. It was pretty hard to talk to them, because they weren’t very open to sharing, but it was interesting to learn from them. I think every one of them would have given anything to go home to their babies.

It is the end of another long day filled with insane emotions, so I will leave you with this: the women of Kenya are beautiful. I don’t just mean their faces or their skin, but their spirits and their work ethic – just absolutely beautiful.

“Yes, You Can Now Go to School”

Monday, July 27, 2009

Jambo!

No video from me tonight, I’ve had a long day and have another long one ahead of me, but I wanted to recap the day a little.

We started the day at Kitie Secondary School, where there are 280 students, 110 of them girls, all of whom were taking exams when we arrived. The principal took us around the school, showing us everything from the latrines to the area where the water was collected. They don’t have running water at the school, so there is an employee who goes to the well four times a day, brings the water back, and sends it from one end of the property to another through a pipe. When the water reaches the large tank near the kitchen, it is mixed with chlorine so that the students do not get sick from drinking the water.

We spent a lot of time with the principal, but we were also able to go in to a couple of classrooms. We met a girl named Monicah Kioko, who is a Peer Educator (someone who educates other students about HIV/AIDS) and wants to grow up to be a Peer Educator trainer or possibly a Lawyer defending the rights of women. We went into her classroom and talked to the other students for a few minutes. They seemed very shy, but once we started handing out ONE bands they were pretty excited.

There aren’t enough teachers at the school. The principal told us they have 10 teachers, two student teachers, and would run more smoothly with sixteen teachers. One teacher’s desk was so stacked with papers and folders that he barely had enough space to work in!

These teachers are working very hard and not getting paid very much. The students are also working hard, and some of them are rewarded by being accepted to University when they graduate, though if they can’t pay for it, they can’t go. Some of them cannot even pay for the tuition at Kitie. Children that are orphaned, as well as others that deserve on the grounds of merit, are funded through USAID, but not very many. 3,300 students throughout the country are funded. There are nearly 6,000 applications waiting at USAID for someone to say, “yes, you can now go to school.”

Despite all of this, there is a demand for teachers, as there are not many people who can teach. We went to a teachers training college and talked to some of the students there, who told us it is very hard to pay for school, uniforms and books, and even if they do get into school and get all the way through (it is a two year program), they sometimes cannot find a job. Some students want to teach where they leave, but there is no demand for teachers where they are, and some want to teach in a different place, but there is a demand for teachers where they live. The Kenyan government has trouble understanding why people don’t want to go where there are jobs, so they make it hard for the new teachers to relocate and find a job. We heard a lot about that from a couple of the students.

After the teacher training college, we went to the elephant orphanage, which was pretty great. The caretakers stay with the baby elephants 24/7, because elephants get separation anxiety, and they feed them milk as well as send them out into the national park. The elephants are eventually released back into the wild, but it is good that they have someone to take care of them until they are ready to do it themselves.

I guess that’s all for now. Tomorrow we leave the hotel at 5 AM to fly to Kisumu, Kenya, so I’m going to get some rest.

Kwa sasa, kwaheri!

Pre-Trip Video Journal

Friday, July 24, 2009

I’m absolutely thrilled to be going on this trip, and I’m really excited that you are all following what we are doing on this website. I think it’s going to be a great experience for everyone, whether you’re going or reading about what we’re doing.

These past few months since the announcement have been quite insane. I’ve spent a lot of time stressing and worrying about the trip, from all of the shots I had to get (which was a lot, let me tell you), to wondering what kind of research I will be doing and how it will be conducted. On top of thinking about the trip all the time, I learned that I’m eligible to graduate from college in 2010 instead of 2011, which makes me a rising senior and one happy camper! This trip is a great way to start off my senior year of college, and I can’t wait to get there, learn, and get back so I can put what I learned to good use.

I’ve spent a lot of time working hard to get to where I am right now. I’m so honored to have been chosen by ONE to go on this trip, and I can’t wait to get on the plane tomorrow morning, run in to two of my five Real World: Kenya (as we’re now calling it) trip mates on the plane out of Minneapolis, arrive in DC and meet up with our fourth member and the ONE team, and get this show on the road. We’ll be updating all along the way, so you’ll be hearing from me again soon.

Kwa sasa, kwaheri!