The saying that "life is measured in moments, not days"
is incredibly accurate ways to describe travel..
We can live for weeks, months without any significant moments, following our routine and anticipating for weekends.
And then venture to a foreign country, a different continent and the time is so saturated with experiences that are uncomfortable, that challenge our perceptions, that expand and deepens our understanding, perhaps shocks us to the core, and shifts our way of thinking, of being.
Years later we still remember any travel experience (big or small). They become such significant memories that stays with us, layers upon layers, adding not only photos to our camera roll, but also depth to our personality. Wider world view that brings with it empathy and ability to see things from others perspective.
We never really know how much travel changes us, like love, it can’t be measured.
How can I possibly capture the essence of my recent travel experience..?
I shared my first impressions (arriving thoughts here) and now, a month later, I will attempt to find words that describe even a little particle of the deeply painful, moving, and powerful volunteer work I did in Kenya.
Our volunteer placement was in a town called Mlolongo, just 40 min (no traffic) outside Nairobi.
Arriving there was the first big shock, that even though wore out after 2-3 days, remained unsettling.
So many kids of all ages running around the streets and squares, finding ways to entertain themselves – the few lucky ones got a ball, but most kids are finding empty plastics, trinkets on the street, some are burning trash and having fun with flames.
I am taken back by such sights that I have never seen before.
There is garbage everywhere, sauvage water running down the streets. The smell unbearable.
This is a home to approximately 140 000 people.
I am painfully aware that this town with rapidly increasing population is just a drop in the ocean of Kenia’s struggles.
We, the volunteers, live in a house that is in the center of this town.
They can accommodate 10-12 people, at the time there are 5 of us living there.
Every morning, after a very minimalistic breakfast (thankfully I was so wise to bring my own coffee..) 5 of us along with the "host" walk 40 min to the New Hope Tumaini School.
The walk itself is mentally overwhelming and stimulating. This is before the work even begins. Fast paced, we maneuver the streets to avoid stepping into something, focused on looking down, there are only brief moments when I can look up to take in my surroundings. People are walking to work, mothers taking their kids to school, your usual morning commute. Piles of garbage stretches along the way for the whole 40-minute walk.
I arrive exhausted, but this is not about me.
I dig deep to push through the discomfort.
The school is located in a slum.
The top floor is the head office of the Positive Life Kenya.
This non-governmental organization has been working for 15 years now with a mission to break the cycle of poverty by promoting active participation of communities through education and advocacy to build a healthy environment for children to thrive and create lasting change.
It is an incredibly overwhelming task to take on, in a country where (according to UNICEF estimates) children below 18 make up 49% of the population.
"we center our work around the child and everything that impacts their wellbeing"
Dedicated effort, small steps and little help from international volunteers have enabled Positive Life Kenya to open two schools that supports education and early childhood development - this work expands beyond the classroom.
In efforts to help local communities, Positive Life Kenya has also started Women's Empowerment program that aims to teach skills (such as sewing, beauty, hair braiding) so women are able to be independent and feel empowered to have a job and take care of themselves - this school is located in Mlolongo, in the house where the volunteers are living.
Big part of Positive Life Kenya’s work is also actively participating in helping women with counseling, rehabilitation and seeking solutions for their problems.
We, as volunteers, are encouraged to participate in every aspect of this wide-reaching program. It is up to each and every one of us to decide what will our contribution be.
I feel very overwhelmed. How could I possibly help?
I signed up for female empowerment program because it resonated most with me.
And I find myself, during the first house visit, completely dumb-struck.
We are sitting across from a very young woman, early 20s. She is holding a baby in her hands and next to her very shy looking 5-year-old girl, who, as we find out later, has been saved from her abusive mother.
It’s just her and the two girls, living in a house made from metal-sheets. The house is just one windowless room, sleeping area separated with a curtain. No electricity.
It’s 10 am so the heat is still building in the house. I’m so uncomfortable, I can’t imagine what an afternoon in here feels like.
The woman shares more details about her life-story and I feel like I am losing breath - the combination of heat, pain, despair.
The counselor tells me that this is where our empowerment begins, if I want, I can tell her something.
I feel so stupid, so ignorant, so spoiled, coming here with my ideals and pep-talks.
What am I supposed to say? What can I say in this situation ?
"Hold on to your dreams?! Never give up hope?”
Of course, that sounds ridiculous. There are absolutely no words I can find.
I look down, ashamed of myself, and only mumble goodbye, leaving this woman with two children behind.
The day just got harder and harder after that.
HIV rape victim with a 3-month-old, trying to breast-feed her little baby, and failing to do so because she, herself, has not had any food. She was raped and left pregnant.
A woman with two children, looking after her sister’s daughter who is disabled, dealing with threat from men who constantly take advantage and rape this young, unprotected girl. They can’t even submit a police report to punish this abuser, because it costs money that they don’t have.
I hear so many rape stories, where girls as young as 10-12 are victims of their neighbors, stepdads, even dads.
I feel sick, just writing it, remembering it, even a month later.
While I sit on my sofa, at the comfort of my air-conditioned modern apartment, well fed and without any worries about my well-being – I travel back in time and place, and it’s painful to know that so many women, so many young girls are suffering.
It’s such a hard and close look at the reality of the world.
It’s not fair, the life is not fair, the world is not fair. But we, you and I, are the lucky ones who have been dealt very good cards.
We are just often wasting them.
There was an ongoing feeling of overwhelm, but alongside that, I felt anger.
I knew that making a change here, in Kenya, is (feels) impossible, and sharing words of encouragement to the women living in metal sheet windowless houses is useless.
It is very possible that not much will change in their life.
But us?
The privileged ones with passports, safe living conditions, abundance of job opportunities, intellectual brain, ability, and freedom to do pretty much anything – we live our lives selfishly consuming. We make money to buy things, we alter our faces and bodies to gain appraisal, we share every detail of our life on social media. It’s me, me, me, me. I am the center of the world and whether I can show off my boyfriend who buys me flowers, or applaud myself for being independent and successful – either way it’s an inflated sense of self, that wants to be noticed and celebrated.
What have you done to contribute to the society?
This was a question that I had to ask myself, and the answer or rather lack of answer, angered me.
Doing the house visits was the hardest part of my week in Kenya.
There was so much pain, I forgot my own grief for a moment ..
But I felt my mum in me, her generous, thoughtful, and kind heart touched every single person that crossed her path.
She lives within me, so her heart (at least a little part of it) does too.
We visit another house – a woman with a 6-month-old baby sitting down on a mattress, tells us that she has two more kids from her ex-husband.
Now she is alone, with three kids. She sits in silence, tears in her eyes.
I feel so much pain.
There she is, jobless, alone, not able to feed herself or her kids, worried how to make the next 15$ rent payment for the upcoming month.
But above all those existential issues? Her broken heart. She says she feels alone. Betrayed.
I can sense in her disappointment, helplessness, shame - for trusting another man, for believing in whatever happy ending he promised.
In this drastically contrasting world - heartbreak is the one mutual currency.
Whether you are wearing expensive engagement ring and living in a penthouse apartment or struggling to feed your family and pay 15$ for rent - the hope that someone will be the one, and the disappointment that follows after it fails - it hurts the same..
The counselor, understandably, continued to ask her questions about the kids in school, but I sank even deeper in her heartbreak.
Here I am, I have come all the way to Mlolongo, Kenya, sitting across single women living in slums, unable to feed themselves and their children, and I want to talk about emotions.
That evening I talked to our local host and asked if perhaps instead of just practical skills, we could find some time to talk about emotions.
Other volunteers over time had prepared lectures on HIV, on personal hygiene, on multiple health concerns. Subject of emotions had never come up. Not once.
She was very encouraging, offering me to lead a 10-15 min class to the women who come in the morning to do their skill training. It’s worth the effort, she said, but they are very shy and intimidated and talking about emotions might be very far out of their comfort zone.
The next morning I had prepared 2 questions: “what makes you happy” “I am proud of myself because..”. I introduced “wheel of emotions” from which they had to choose 1-2 emotions that they felt and write them down on a paper.
I also left a basket with empty notes and invited them to leave their questions, anonymous.
The response was overwhelming, my heart swelled up with a sense of achievement, and not one that’s related to my own self success,
but one that reflects the impact of helping others.
The remaining 5 (very long and equally very short) days, I started my mornings with a group of around 16-20 women.
Despite the quiet, shy, and timid nature of these women, I was able to encourage them to speak in front of the group. Each morning I asked two to three questions related to emotions, sense of self, values.
Questions such as: “what makes you feel sad”, “I am most afraid of..”, “The most important things in life are..” “I feel love when..”
Some answers light up the room with smiles and happiness, some brought tears to our eyes.
In the face of the poverty, pain, fear and despair - what a seemingly insignificant particle these morning questions were.
But what impact does an inquiry in the sense of self leave on someone – that we will not be able to measure in the same way we can measure the amount of flour, rice, fruits we buy..
My chosen charity “female empowerment” focuses their efforts on creating ways to help women help themselves.
One week is not enough time to make change, but I implemented a new course that other volunteers will continue to carry out every morning with the group of women that come to the skill training program. It's a small step in the right direction.
I was not able to make any immediate or measurable change - reminding myself once again to be patient and focus on the work we do, not the result we want to achieve.
I came to Africa, with an intention to empower women and I empowered myself.
I realized the ability, strength and power that we, who are fortunate to have been dealt such good cards in life, have to make a change.
I left Africa with my notebook that’s filled with thank you notes, I left Africa with a broken heart for those that have to live in horrible conditions.
I left Africa with deeply reflective questions on my own sense of self, and my contribution to the society.
There is no way for me to measure how much this travel experience changed me.
As the time inevitably keeps moving and new things take place, that which I saw and felt will remain engrained in my personality.
As always, I hope that you too are able to deeply reflect on your own self, maybe I have encouraged you to do a volunteer work, maybe something as brave and significant as your own inner-work.
Journey within!
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