Thursday, 7/9/2009 11PM

My walk to the orphanage is roughly 20 minutes long. Unlike the other volunteers who live in Kayole, where the orphanage is located, I live farther away in Komarock, which is a slightly better area. I'm pretty sure no one would be able to tell the difference, and I couldn't either, initially. But after 2 weeks, I can see there is a definite difference.

I begin by walking out of a gated housing complex, where all the houses have walls and driveways. It is a stone drive, and mangy strays amble along next to me. I exit the community and walk along a few thin planks that cross the garbage ditch. They are rickety and I don't trust them to last much longer. A bus used as public transportation (a "matatu" - a pimped minivan that fits 20 people, painted in glitter with stencils of soulja boy next to obama, promulgating religious slogans, belting reggae, with windows that flash rainbow lights), even over speed bumps, emitting black smoke and kicking up poofs of dust.

As I leave Komarock, I pass stores that sell groceries indoors, or offer services like computer troubleshooting. Soon stores are downgraded to shacks on the side of the road. At first they sell fruits and chickens, but just outside of Komarock the goods sold are used clothes, and as I cross into Kayole, the used clothes turn into junk. Piles of screwdrivers, broken electronics, even an original nintendo, across from bags of charcoal being sold in front of half-broken down buildings. Matatus multiply, because no one here owns a car, and the air is filled with dust and exhaust.

My nose starts to burn from all the dust, which ranges from grains of sugar-size particles to flour-size particles. More and more people begin to look at me sideways, until everyone around me looks confused about my presence. Chickens poke at the garbage that, instead of resting in the ditches, overflows onto the "sidewalks." The smell in the air is sour, like rot and urine. Once in awhile I will have to avoid human feces on my way.

People don't use the "sidewalks," which are bumpy dusty pathways about 2 feet side in between the garbage ditch and the street. Most people walk in the street, leaving one lane for the cars. They still drive both ways, so the street is mayhem. Music blares from one of the shops, and sometimes it is beautiful local music, voices harmonizing in Swahili, and sometimes its bad pop from the US.

Then I see the colorful stack of mattresses on the right, and I know I am almost at the orphanage. The mattresses are a landmark for the kids (turn left after the mattresses, 3 stores after the mattresses), and they have become a landmark for me as well.

Here's a pic looking out from the orphanage across the street:


After the school day is over, I hang out with the kids for an hour or so, until Joel walks me home. Joel is one of the By Grace graduates, and is trying to earn some money working for the director so he can go to trade school to become an accountant. She pays him a little bit to run errands for her. I like it when Mary, another graduate (who is getting a position as an au pair in Germany), comes along as well. The best part is when people make fun of Joel, because they see him walking me so often, and call him "white boy."

Mary and Joel are rare cases. They have done very well in school, mainly because they were self-taught during a time when the orphanage didn't have any teachers. So they are able to pursue higher education. I am not sure what the other graduates do... I know that the boys stay at the orphanage to teach, which is why the orphanage now has classes, and some girls become house girls. The boys are waiting for sponsorship, for someone to help them pay their way through university. Some had sponsorship, and have a few semesters of college, and are waiting for sponsorship to finish school.