So, I have not mentioned much about work. I work with MIMA, the microfinance portion of LICODEP. It was started over a year ago and has been gaining a lot of momentum within the Likoni community. It is structured as many microfinance institutions (MFIs. That is right, I am learning the lingo), with clients joining in groups of five, called solidarity groups. The groups serve to insure each others loans, and maintain member accountability. Each member is required to save 50 shillings (about 75 cents) per week. Then the members take loans when they have saved one third of the amount that they want to borrow. The first loan can be as little as 5,000 Ksh up to 10,000Ksh. The solidarity group members can only apply for loans two at a time.

The MIMA clients are predominantly women, small business owners living in Likoni, although there are plenty of men and non-business owners as well. Most of the businesses are one-person operations and range from day care centers to beauty shops to fish mongering to selling secondhand clothes to small produce stands. For almost all of them, they do not qualify for traditional loans and the chance to get a small loan (10,000Ksh = about $150), is a unique opportunity. Microfinace is a fast growing field, and there are many other MFIs within Mombasa. However, LICODEP is a recognized community leader and several members have expressed that they feel more comfortable dealing with people they know and trust as opposed to some of the large MFIs which serve over 15,000 clients (MIMA serves around 100). The other added benefit of MIMA is that the registration fees and mandatory savings are lower than the bigger MFIs, which puts membership within reach for many of the poorer people within Likoni.

Ok so what am I doing for MIMA? Good question. Right now I am acting almost like a business consultant (I know I am laughing too) for them. The operations are going fairly well, however, after a year of saving and lending to clients, there are some adjustments that need to be made and some more infrastructure put in place. I am almost finished researching and putting together the business plan, complete with reporting mechanisms to help MIMA measure their successes and shortcomings. I am also helping set up a simple database to track clients. In addition we are working to make MIMA self sufficient, and see how we can get the business to generate enough revenue from the interest from loans so that the staff can actually get paid (ok they get paid now, but not much). And if all this gets done and I still have time (or if I decide to stay here past December) we want to put together a few business workshops for the clients, as they have been wanting for nearly a year.

The day to day isn't super thrilling. In the mornings I get as much work done as I can. For the first several weeks I was researching the world of microfinance and the standard MFI business structure. In addition, there was a lot of observation time so I could become familiar with how MIMA runs. These days I have a lot of different stuff to do. Some days I go to the field with Mweupe, the MIMA field officer to meet with the clients and collect their savings and loan repayments. Other days I meet with other local MFIs. Last week I was doing a whole lot of data entry and cash flow projections. It’s a nice mix of stuff and I am really enjoying the relaxed pace of working here.

a few thoughts.....

“White guilt” is one of those things I started dealing with in college, but sometimes I find myself stuck back at that questioning, wondering, confused place. I thought I had worked through it for the most part, but I suppose race, privilege and how it is that I personally deal with them is an ongoing process, something to big to be figured out all at once when one is still just becoming an adult (which I am still doing I think). I guess I think there is a sort of pressure, primarily from myself to have it figured out, to have come up with more answers. But rather than answering those questions these last two months have brought up more questions. Questions which are good, important, but often hard.

But I don’t have the answers and that is hard. Don’t get me wrong, I am having a fantastic time and in many ways my experiences in the last two months have been wonderful and this feels like the right place for me right now. There have, of course, been moments where I have not felt this way.

This is an excerpt from my journal a few weeks ago:

I am on the Beach in Diani right now. It is like I am sitting in a postcard with white sand lined with tall palm trees, blue green water and hand-carved fishing boats bobbing just off shore. I am with the other FSD interns. Tara is sleeping in the sun, Jeff is building an elaborate sand castle, Ryan is reading The Economist (which he paid nearly $7 for), and Anne is engrossed in her Kenya guide book trying to find something for her and her boyfriend to do when he comes to visit in just a few short weeks. Everything here is so horizontal: the sand, the water, the sky, even the trees feel horizontal because they stretch the entire length of the beach.

A man is approaches us from just south of where we are spread out. He is clearly heading for us, as we are the only people on this particular beach. I can see him coming for several minutes before he actually reaches us. Without thinking I inform Jeff and Ryan that, depending on what this man wants, one of them will be my stand in boyfriend. The thought feels a little wrong coming out. It was a reflex. The man has reached us by now, shakes each of our hands as he greets us. Some of the other interns don’t speak. It gets awkward. So I jump in and we chat for about 30 seconds. But really I am waiting for what we all think is coming, his sales pitch. As wazungu, we have become used to being approached by people selling hand carved wooden key chains, necklaces, polished seashells. It turns out this gentleman had a boat complete with scuba gear and can take us out to the reef located nearby. He says he will come back around 10:30. This guy is good. He doesn’t even ask, he just tells us. I explain to him that we are not planning any boat trips today. He says “Ok, I’ll return at 10:30”. Again, we decline, and he moves on down the beach, trying to find someone who wants to go out to the reef.

This is not an exceptional incident; rather this same scenario happens again about six times over the next hour. A man dressed in a bright red cloth, with yellow bracelets selling beaded belts approached us soon after that. His clothes were so bright, it was apparent he was wearing a costume and not his regular clothes. It turns out these are in fact his work clothes, meant to make him look like an “authentic” African, for the wazungu tourists who frequent this area. We all pass on the beaded belts, the hair braiding, the beach side massages, necklaces and other good that are solicited. I feel like shit telling people no over and over again, but I really don’t want anything.

After one man tries to sell us something and we are each trying to go back to our reading, sand castles, etc he sticks around. It is slightly awkward because I want to read, I want to relax, I don’t want to have a conversation about where I am from what I am doing in Kenya, etc. After he eventually leaves, Ryan asks if Kenyans have the same sense of awkwardness as Americans. I am not sure, but I think it could be true.

I also feel like shit because I am resenting them. Here I am in THEIR country enjoying the wonderful scenery, but their approaching me on the beach is an interruption to my relaxing on the beach as I try to even out my “tan”. I don’t want to have to think about the fact that there are few options for them and that there are probably 120 things they would rather be doing that approaching white people on the beach trying to sell their wares. After thinking about it for a while I realize that the thing I hate the most is the power dynamic. I have the power to promote them and I am being inundated with the opportunity to do so. In everything I have done for the last two months there is a pressure to buy stuff, which I am a pro at ignoring. But I am expected to be able to pay. In this instance on the beach I feel about to boil over. I hate having this power dynamic. I don’t like the fact that my white privilege is being thrown back in my face with every “No thank you” I say. Right now I just want to BE.

But In spite of this kneejerk reactions I was having while I was at Diani, I knew the woman offering massages, the brightly colored boy with the belts are just trying to make a living. There are so few jobs and tourism is down by over half from last year, as a result of the post election mayhem. They know that mzungu come to Kenya on vacation and therefore have more purchasing power than most Kenyans. The individuals selling on the beach are doing their jobs and trying to make their way, so it is incredibly unfair of me to resent them for it.

Overall I think this questioning and searching for what is right when dealing with the constant inequalities I see everyday is healthy. I would be worried if this wasn’t a struggle for me. Sometimes it is really hard to balance my selfishness with my conscience. It is hard to see people who have so few options struggle to make a living for themselves. But I am realizing more and more that it is ok not to have all of the answers right now. That I can take each day as it comes and make sure to let the good things here (of which there are so many) affect me just as much as the hard things.

A few pictures

First, let me tell you a thing or two about taking pictures in Kenya, and the various things that have led to me not posting any until now. I have received a bit of flack from a number of people for not posting pictures and I want to clear up that it is not just because of my laziness.

So, I stick out quite a bit around here. Shocking, I know, but there are not that many other foreigners living in Likoni these days. The coast is a touristy area, so there are a lot of non-Africans passing through, but not a lot of them stay to meet the people and get to know the place. While people realize that tourism is a huge benefit to the Kenyan economy, there is a general disdain for tourists. They are known for flying in, going to see the lions and elephants (which I did two weeks ago by the way), heading to the beach (which I have also done), taking a few pictures of adorable Kenyan kids and getting back on the plane to enjoy their lives. One of the struggles that I have is communicating that I am here as a volunteer, here to help the community, and that I am not just another foreigner who is here to take pictures. So taking out my over sized digital camera and taking pictures of people isn't really the best idea, because it attracts even more attention to the fact that I am not from here, and have money.

The coast is a very Muslim area, and while some people love having their picture taken, there are some who adhere to the rule that one's picture should not be taken. However, if I ask, people generally will feel obligated to say yes.

In addition to this, people in the west love pictures of African kids and have used them for years in various ways to get funding. However, there are some who feel that after years of having their pictures taken, and sometimes not the most flattering pictures (think, starving children seen on TV with a bowl of gruel and flies around them), that the people taking the pictures might only use them for personal gain. As a visual person I will be the first to admit that I love pictures of African kids, but again, I have to walk the line and respect people's wishes.

So all in all, there are no real rules about pictures, but I have not taken all that many. Here are a few:

This one is my host auntie, Mama Helima. She has a small business selling the awesome fried potatoes and porridge.

Water tank in our front yard.



The front yard with laundry
A few weeks back almost everyone at home was sick. I thought this was sort of cute.


I learned to make chipatis.
Ok more to come. If and when I decide to take them!

Typical Morning

At 6:15am the alarm on my cell phone goes off. It isn't too hard to get up, because the rest of the family has been up for at least the last half hour. Once in a while I try and roll over to get a few more precious minutes of sleep, but between the noise from the family getting ready for the day, the chickens outside and the hustle and bustle on the busy road outside, I usually fail and get up. I put on my kanga (sarong/wrap) and sleepily go to the kitchen, where I light the parafin stove, and heat up the water for my bath. It is usually pretty quick and I only almost started a fire once. Actually for the first several weeks I just used the shower (a real luxury in Likoni), but stopped because the water was so cold and I discovered, that while bucket baths are more work, it is worth it to have a warm water.
I have also noticed that I use way too much stuff in the shower. When I am walking to the bathroom in the morning, I have an armful of stuff: shampoo, conditioner, face soap, razor, body wash and a washcloth. Upon seeing all of my bath stuff, my friend Mammie said "Wow, I just have soap".

After I am done with my bath, I make my breakfast which consists of eggs from our chickens, chai (it isn't like the chai we drink in the states but it is very delicious), and either white bread or mandazi (donuts). I am trying to switch to porridge, because I am seriously missing whole grains and eating donuts everyday is potentially not the healthiest option for me. Sometimes I even get freshly squeezed orange juice OR mango/passion fruit juice. While I eat, the news is usually on so I can hear about the latest on Kenyan politics, people who are still displaced from the post election violence, just how hot it is going to get that day (not as hot as I thought it was going to be), Kenya's Olympic team, the terrible traffic in Nairobi, etc. Anyway then Swale my host brother and I head off to Licodep by about 8:30. He just returned home from finishing his degree in Kampala, Uganda and has been volunteering at Licodep while he finds a job.

The walk to work takes about 25 minutes. The first part of the walk is down a dusty (or if it has just rained, muddy) main street, where I focus on dodging the matatus, motor bikes and other pedestrians. There is a shortcut so as to avoid this chaos, but it is such an elaborate maze of cutting between houses, that even after having taken this way several times, I can't do it by myself. Then we pass by the ferry which is totally chaotic and busy. I get asked where I am going by the men in matatus who assume that I am going to Diani, the tourist area about an hour south. I tell them I live here ("Ninaishi hapa!) or pretend like I don't hear them. Then we cut through the small market to reach Shelly Beach Road, which leads to Licodep. Now this road, while within mere feet of the chaos of the ferry, seems miles away. It is quiet, beautifuly lined with tropical trees and flowers, with several huge villas, most of which are uninhabited. These houses are five times the size of most of the homes in Likoni. Apparently most of them are owned by rich people in Nairobi or elsewhere, who come down on some weekends. The houses are each guarded by tall concrete walls and gates to the driveways that have security guards there almost 24/7. There is some pedestrain traffic, lots of men selling jugs of water out of carts, a few motor bikes and matatus, but overall this is one of the quietest parts of my day.

Then we arrive at Licodep, which is actually one of the large villas I mentioned. It was bought for the organization by a donor a few years back. The first floor is mostly a social space, with a stereo, TV, a few games and lots of chairs, where you can almost always find people hanging out. There is also a small room for the youth counseling program and a small office for the microloan program. Then upstairs is where most of the offices are. I share an office with the program staff and volunteers so it is a busy place. There is a great view os some of the smaller houses nearby and just beyond them, the Indian Ocean. I have to admit that being able to see the ocean from your desk, sure beats being seated outside the women's bathroom at the WBDC for two years. Speaking of being at the office, it is tea time and I should be getting a bit of work done. This is a picture of me working.

Love from Kenya!