“It’s Too Late” (for us anyway): The Fundamentals of Early Childhood Development and Education

This one goes out to Shafique, who humorously and lyrically reminded us that we’re doomed to be stuck with the cognitive and emotional intelligence we already have.

Today is a ‘field-trip’ day, my favourite kind of day since Kindergarten.  I jump into the white MRC,K van with three other colleagues, including trusty Mr. H, our driver.  We bump and bounce along the dusty, potholed road, careening around tuk tuks , matatus, and pedestrians brave enough to cross the street.  After a half hour or so, we turn down an even more rudimentary  road, one lane wide and packed with red earth.  

The scenery is lush with Palms, Baobabs, and Acacia trees.  Thatched roof, one-room houses dot the landscape.   We stop just past a one-room school house, white walls with a corrugated metal roof, a water pump in front.  “Krist...”  (Mr.H the driver calls me Krist.)  “We have arrived, in the field.” (We have a running joke now, about how I say I love going to ‘the field’, when really we visit schools.)  Laughing about frolicking around in the field with the cows, I take my cue to open the van door and climb out onto the dirt path up to the school.  As my colleagues give their ‘hellos’,  or should I say “Salaam Alaikums” ,to the women outside, I say my ‘hellos’ and get to work as the official MRC,K photographer. 

Water pump at Ummulqura School.

Entrance to Ummulqura School.

Here’s a  brief history on the Madrasa Preschool Programme:

(No thanks to Greg Mortenson and other discredited sources, the word ‘madrasa’ has been given a bad rap.  A ‘madrasa’ is simply a school.  It is not necessarily a breeding ground for the world’s most annihilative terrorists).

The Madrasa Preschool Programme , developed with the support of the Aga Khan Development Network and now funded by a number of bilateral and multilateral donors, began as a community need in the early 80’s.  The Kenyan coast is home to a significantly large population of Muslims.  However the only options for education could be found in the Mosques (for a formal education purely based on the Qur’an) or Christian schools.  Muslim communities found they were not happy sending their children to a Christian school, as it became very confusing for the child to attend Christian school, then Mosque on Saturdays.  They were also not happy with the formal, purely religious, lecture-style education their children would receive in the mosques.  So the madrasas grew out of a local need – apart from most development programmes that are ‘thought up’ by ‘experts’ in a shiny tall building somewhere in Ottawa or Washington D.C. then ‘transferred’ to the local context that the ‘experts’ may or may not have visited or even read about in a newspaper.   (I don’t apologize for sounding so cynical - this is how “development” was actually done in the early 80’s).   And this local need was voiced to the local religious leaders and eventually to His Highness, the Aga Khan himself.  (I’m sorry readers, you may have to Google that one – this blog is already too long).

A holistic and pluralistic Early Childhood Development and Education (ECDE) programme was piloted through the madrasas in 1986.  ECDE focuses on the critical first 8 years of a child’s life (0-8), where the entire foundation of our cognitive, emotional, physical, social, spiritual and moral growth is built.  Hence, those of us who are long past grade 3, are doomed to be as we are. As Shafique, our facilitator from Uganda, says “It’s too late”.  

Now, for us in the Western world, where our children are spoiled to death with free public education and institutions like Montessori schools, where children are graded with shiny stars and smiley faces, where the Ministry of Education continuously finds danger in the playground equipment (Seriously, whatever happened to merry-go-rounds and tire swings?), where the Ministry of Health installs giant hand sanitizer stations on every wall in the schools.... we seriously have no issues with being up and coming with ECDE.  However, in rural Kenya, with thatched one-room houses, roaming cattle, and a lack of basic plumbing – add a per capita GDP of $1,600, an unemployment rate of 40%, malnutrition, and child labour- ECDE is a relatively new undertaking. 

I enter the one-room school house.  The walls are made of concrete, there are wooden beams holding up the ceiling of corrugated metal.  The windows have bars and metal screening.   There are three teachers, and therefore three different classes going on at once.  I can count about 40 children.  Everyone is sitting on the floor, most kids turn to stare at me.  After my experience teaching kindergarten at a private school in China, I figured a classroom of 40 4-7 year olds with three separate classes going on at once plus a strange white lady standing at the doorway would be a recipe for disaster.  I was quite shocked when the lessons went on, unhinged, while some students quietly turned to stare, but continued on with their teacher.  One teacher at one wall was focused on the sounds of the alphabet “aawaa”  “ba ba” “ce ce” “da de” , or something to that effect.  The second lesson on the next wall was focused on the letter ‘f’ and a song about ‘family’. The third wall was occupied by English phrases, such as “The hen has eggs”, and “The cat has a net”.  Each wall had a tiny cut-out of a blackboard.  A few other materials in the classroom reminded me of the ‘model classroom’ we have in the office to show teachers and other visitors.

Practicing the letter 'F' in Ummulqura classroom.

Many of the materials for the classroom are home-made using locally available items – such as corn cobs, bottle caps, used water canisters, and coconut shells -  to promote sustainability.  If everything was bought, such as toys, games, equipment – how can the school sustain itself?  The Madrasa Preschool Programme promotes community ownership and accountability.  The community - including parents, teachers, school committees, political leaders, and elders  -  has to own the school .  They even come together to literally build the school.  The Madrasa Resource Centre, where I work, is simply there to promote ECDE and support the schools.  This is not a hand-out business.

Free playtime in Music Corner with hand-made drums and costumes.
Rahma School.

The Madrasa Preschool curriculum is taught in English, Swahili, and Arabic.  While a holistic education based on active learning, play, numeracy, literacy and creativity is the backbone of the program, so too are the pillars and values of Islamic teachings.  Diversity, humility, prayer, morals, and spirituality are key components of the curriculum.   

Outside playtime at Taqwa Magongo School.

Pretend cooking in Home Corner. Taqwa Magongo School.

An average Madrasa preschool has themed walls or corners:  science, music, home life, health and nutrition, religion, math, language, and creativity.  Outside there is a swing set, slide, and something akin to jungle bars.  There also may be a ‘water play station’ and a ‘sand play station’ – some of us may remember these from preschool or kindergarten.  An average morning at a Madrasa Preschool would go something like this:

Snack time at Taqwa Magongo School.

Arrive: 7:30 am

Language (Usually Arabic or English):  8 – 8:30

Creativity Corner (Drawing, Painting:  8:30-9

Social Corner (Home Life, Diversity): 9-9:30

Outside Play:  9:30-10

Midmorning Snack (Biscuits, bananas, or fried potatoes):  10-10:30

Free Play (Children pick corners to play in): 10:30 -11

Math:  11-11:30

Wrap up and go home:  11:30-12

Another key component of the Madrasa Preschool Curriculum is health and nutrition.  Children learn about hand washing before and after meals, dental hygiene, healthy foods, sanitation (use of a proper toilet and keeping the toilet facilities clean), wearing shoes while in the toilet, having a healthy mid-morning snack, drinking clean water, and wearing shoes while outside.  The health and nutrition programme is a whole other story that cannot be captured in this post. 

Outside play at Taqwa Magongo School.
I can't help but notice they aren't wearing shoes.

After snapping my photos, attempting to sneak a few in while the children are not staring blank-eyed at me, I do what I love best – interacting and playing with the children.  It starts out with a ‘Hello, how are you’ and next thing you know we are making monkey faces, reading the “Three Little Pigs”, and playing make-believe with an empty teapot and teacups.  

"And he huffed, and he puffed, and he blew the house down!"

Pretend tea anyone?

- Which brings me back to Greg  Mortensen. (Insert brilliant metaphor about empty teacups and empty schools in the villages of Pakistan).   Perhaps he should have done a bit more research on what schools or programming already existed and invested his millions into true community development.  He obviously missed out on a holistic, nourishing ECDE experience as a child – sorry Greg it’s just too late.

Heading home. Ummulqura School.

For more information on Kenya’s Madrasa Preschools:

  

http://www.akdn.org/kenya_education.asp

We Are All Connected

I dedicate this post to my late Great Aunt Winnifred, may she rest in peace.

It’s amazing how things work out, especially when you almost expect them to end up in disaster, or at least a lengthy set of almost impossible obstacles that make you feel like a tri-athlete at the end of it all.

Upon preparing for my Fellowship in Kenya, I read past Fellow’s blogs, I met with a cultural liaison during training, and I researched the Internet.  As you may have read in my first blog, what I discovered about my first journey to Africa didn’t sound pretty.  Visions of thugs and thieves, cockroaches the size of my shoe, rats the size of dogs,  and gangs of men preying on me danced in my head.

But the story I am about to tell you, and I feel compelled to tell you, actually heightened my sense of spirituality.  Not being a religious person (aside from the praying and pleading with a ‘god’, any ‘god’, to spare my life on my Air France flight), this was an electrifying experience for me.   I’m curious if this story makes you feel the same.

My living situation in Mombasa was in the air for quite some time. I was told I would be living ‘temporarily’ with a host family.  That ‘host family’ turned out to be one lady who lives alone and happens to have an extra room.  Let’s call her Ms. N.  Ms. N and I got along fabulously from the start.  She is generous, kind-hearted, has a great sense of humour, and really knows how to get what she wants.  She is also a pro when it comes to driving in the chaos that is Mombasa.   In the meantime, my supervisor and others were struggling to find me a more permanent place to live that was safe and reasonable in price.  They had no luck. Without knowing this, Ms. N said, as she piled more delicious curries and bhajias onto my plate, “You know what? You’re not fussy.  I think you can stay here for the whole 8 months”.  I thanked her for her generosity, but kept in mind a place I may have to myself, perhaps with some International roommates who could form into my social network. 

After a month, we discovered that place of my own may not be possible after all.  Lucky for me, I wasn’t left on the street.  It was decided I would stay with Ms.N for the remainder of my Fellowship.  But I was hesitant and nervous about bringing up the whole rent issue.  See, I had never lived with my landlord before, has anyone?  And already Ms. N was starting to feel like a distant relative.  How to juggle the contractual business relationship with feelings of friendship? When I finally sat down and discussed the issue with her, I was amazed by the response. 

Now I need to fill in a bit of her back-story.  We already know that Ms. N is an extremely generous, kind-hearted woman.  Before I entered her life, she was struggling to help a local young man pay for his school tuition.  She looked into various scholarships and other avenues for funding, and even offered what little she could towards the cost of his College or University education.  This young man, with 7 siblings and a single mother, works as a guard full-time but aspires to be a teacher.  He earns about 4000 Kenyan Shillings a month (around $40).  Ms.N  wanted to help any way she could, recognizing the value of education as well as the vicious cycle of poverty.  However, she kept running into roadblocks and red tape in terms of scholarships, foundations, and other fundraising initiatives.

Then I came along.  And Ms.N saw my living here, my paying rent, as an opportunity to help the young man who dreams of being a teacher.  Coincidentally, I am here with aspirations for a fulfilling career in community development and education.   Essentially, Ms.N is putting my rent payments towards his education. 

This really touched me, and when she told me this story we got into a big discussion about how funny life is, and how there must be something out there – some greater thing – that is at play.

As stated above, I dedicate this post to my Great Aunt Winnifred,  a woman who inspires me well after her passing -   A woman who drove to the airport countless times, to provide transportation, warm clothes, and warm food to support newly landed immigrants.  I know how it feels to be scared and unsure about an entirely new place and an entirely new life.  And now I know how it feels to be welcomed with open arms and a warm heart.  

My Kenya Bucket List

I've been trying very hard to write a weekly post to keep myself thinking creatively, and to keep all of you reading this in the loop of my loopyness.

Nothing too profound has happened this week, except for the fact that I feel more normal in an out-of-control tuk tuk, I feel more settled at the office, and I feel more at home in my 'home'.

For this week, I have decided to make a bucket list. I have now made it past the month mark! This whole month felt like two weeks.  So to remind myself of all that I want to get out of this experience and milk it for all that it's worth, I created a lofty list of things I may or may not accomplish while I'm here. Who knows if I will ever get another chance to see Africa.

 1. Learn more about curriculum development in the Madrasa ECE system, as well as NGO challenges on the ground (I'm learning every day!
 2. Gain/improve skills in report and proposal writing, budgeting, and research
3. Lead an entire/or many workshop(s)
4. Visit slum schools/Madrasas
5. Visit / put in volunteer hours at Glad’s house – a local NGO for street children
6. Visit SOS Children’s Village (It's very close-by)
7. Learn local recipes
8. Go to Lamu (Mainly because everyone is talking about it).
9. See the big 5 (Elephants, Cheetas, Buffalo, Lions,  Rhinos – but I also want to see hippos, giraffes, zebras, gazelles)
10.  Dance with the elephants (My supervisor promised me this, the second I landed on Mombasan soil, and I am still not sure what he means by it)
11. Take a mosque tour (There seems to be more mosques per capita than any other city - and they are all so beautiful)
12. Order a beer in Swahili  *Done!* ( Now you see where my priorities lie...)
13. Play soccer/Frisbee with the kids (I totally forgot to pack my frisbee, oh no!)
14.See a traditional dance
15. Go to the Mombasa Carnival (Around November 1st)
16.  Haggle , Swahili style  (I have a good teacher, so I'm almost there)
17. Go jetskiing in the Indian Ocean
18. Go swimming in the Indian Ocean (I've dipped my toes in, but that doesn't count)
19.   Take a matatu, alone!
20. Visit Uganda and Tanzania MRCs (Madrasa Resource Centres)

   

       This is a work in progress, and I will most definitely add more as I learn about new opportunities, things to do, places to see, etc.  And for all you back home, I totally recommend making a bucket list -I mean it doesn't have to be a bucket list in the sense that doomsday 2012 is in fact upon us- but it's pretty fun and motivating!

      p.s. In terms of doomsday, I think as Canadians we are totally immune.  If any of you have ever seen a disaster movie and they show a map of affected areas in the movie, Canada is spared every time!  (i.e. Independence Day, The Day After Tomorrow, Contagion, to name a few).

Sickness, Homesickness, and A Crash Course in Leadership

I had been quite sick over the weekend, possibly from too much R&R, possibly from food poisoning. And some of you who know me well, know that I sort of turn into a baby when I'm sick. So this weekend I stayed in bed, feeling sorry for myself, and was just really missing home.

Today, still not feeling well and debating taking another day of rest, I reminded myself that today I would be co-facilitating a teacher seminar on 'Leadership' , and that I couldn't let people down.

On Friday afternoon I made an agreement with my colleague to help with a training session, stressing the fact that I would co-facilitate and not take over the entire seminar. He was the one who had done this for over 5 years and understood the context of the group and the content of the training. However, this morning when I was still feeling not myself and wanting to run home to crawl into bed – my colleague said to me “I am not feeling well today, you will take over the seminar and I will be there to help”. Instead of saying “Well, I'm not feeling good either, so maybe I should just go home, sorry”, I said “Sure, no problem”. What was going through my mind? The fact that I had been given this amazing, yet terrifying, opportunity to actually run a seminar for teachers – and the fact that the seminars topic was “Leadership”. It would have been pathetically ironic for me to give up, go home, crawl into bed, and remain in the fetal position until Tuesday arrived.

You see, these women (some of whom are probably younger than me) have taken on this responsibility to become head teachers in their communities. They come from remote, rural, and impoverished areas. They have decided to take a big leap to come to the city of Mombasa and take a week long training course to improve themselves, their schools, and (insha'allah) their communities. So why can't I also take a big leap, for them?

Before I knew it, I was working alongside my colleague, reading through the training materials and producing flip charts. My nervousness and homesickness melted away. I told myself that, yes I can do this. It may be a slightly different from singing “The Wheels on the Bus” with a classroom of Chinese kindergartners, but only slightly.

Since grad school, where I had discovered the wonderful world of 'capacity building' and 'facilitation' I decided that is where I fit in: to see changes happen in people; to work with others to build their confidence, energy, and hopefully inspire them to make change in their lives and their communities. It is an exciting process when it works. And I had seen it work before. In Guyana we developed a youth leadership skills workshop and taught children 5-15 about positive life choices and the risks they may encounter : HIV/AIDS, teen pregnancy, drug and alcohol abuse, physical abuse, etc. Out of my group of 20 kids, one girl came up to us afterwards and said “I want to be a community leader, I will go and teach my friends and family about these risks and how to make better decisions”. It was that one girl that inspired me to continue a career in community development.

So here was my chance, to see community development in the making, and hopefully be a part of it. My colleague and I discussed the outline of the workshop, and I made sure I knew what part I was taking care of. (He decided to begin the workshop after all). Of course, last minute he decided to give me another part. No problem, right? He opened up the workshop with some brainstorming topics: What is leadership? What are the qualities of a good leader? What is teamwork?

The room wasn't too energetic at this point, and it was at this point when he turned it over to me and sat at the back of the room. OK, I said to myself, just remember all those parents, teachers, and 5 year olds you sang songs and danced in front of in China. It can't be that bad...

And it wasn't. All said and done. I encouraged the group to think about different styles of leadership (i.e. Democratic, authoritative), and different factors that can contribute or inhibit effective teamwork. I then numbered them off into groups, as per usual, and the room was buzzing with activity. I did my usual run around to see how they were faring. We shared some laughs about spelling mistakes and proper grammar (English is their second language). I ensured they elected a 'leader' to present their brainstorming ideas to the rest of the group, and we all did a fine job in discussing and clarifying all the elements that were brought forward. I also had an opportunity to use the 'praise' system introduced to me during the training seminar in Ottawa by a man who flew all the way from Uganda to tell us about Early Childhood Education in Africa. You clap your hands three times, stomp your feet three times, and clap your hands once more as you push them forward, towards someone – and this is how you give praise for their input and suggestions.

These women, these head teachers, have taken on a big role and responsibility within their communities. They are previously trained teachers in Early Childhood Development and Education (ECDE) and have taught for a number of years within the Madrasa Preschool system – the schools that my office, the Madrasa Resource Centre – supports. Within this system, the preschools are community owned and operated. Small amounts of funding trickle in from various donors and funding agencies. But the essence of the Madrasa ECDE programme is that communities take on the responsibility of building, maintaining, and running the schools so that they have the capacity to sustain it. The head teachers are in charge of ensuring the schools run smoothly, that teachers are paid on time and in the right amount, that new students are enrolled each year, and that parents and other community members are active within the school committees. They are the “mirrors” or the role models for the schools. In essence, they are already leaders.

What we learned today is that there are many styles of leadership, and it is possible to possess characteristics from all of them. And I learned that on those days when I really don't want to deal with the world, I should face it head on.  

Food!

For all you foodies out there, this one's for you.

As many of you know, one of the most important aspects of traveling is exploring all of the foods the world has to offer.  Even if it means also exploring all of the bacteria and parasites the world has to offer. (Anything to boost the immune system!)

I am a lucky traveler who has the opportunity to be living with a host who is constantly piling food on my plate.  Among the conversations about cultural differences, work, and family, you can hear my host saying "Here, try this", "You should eat this", "Please finish this up", "Have you had one of these yet?", "Eat more".    Along with the trays and trays of food I've been fed at home, I have been frequenting the Aga Khan club - which has a restaurant - located exactly 30 seconds away from the office.  Since my colleagues have all been fasting for Ramadan, I've been eating alone, with the crows.  So I've gone ahead and tested out what most of the menu has to offer, and would like to share my culinary delights with you all back home:

   (Note: I have yet to delve into Swahili cuisine, including ugali and bbq goat. But don't worry, I will get on that ASAP!)

Chana bateta: a curry soup with peanuts and chick pea dumpling things.

Lentil bhajias: the j is pronounced dish - it's not Mexican. It's a fried mash of lentils,spices, and fresh coriander. My favourite so far.

Potato bhajias: same thing with sliced potato (basically fried potatoes with a batter).

Pack potatoes: fried diced potatoes with curry spice in a batter.

Samosas: you can get all kinds here, very cheaply!

Spices that come with every meal it seems.  The red one is just plain hot (I think they call it pili pili sauce). The white one is shaved coconut with hot peppers.  The green one, I have no clue but it's also spicy.

My lunch companion.  These guys are daring, obnoxious, and rule the town.

Coconut curry: made with fresh coconut water.

Vegetable curry: with lentils, hot peppers, and other things.

Avocado! These are in season, and they are all massive!

Custard apple. They are sweet and custardy inside with lots of seeds.

Passion fruit:  We had a lot of them and they were getting dried up, so I decided to make juice!

Splitting it open.

All of the fruit is out and ready to be put in a blender.

                                                   Sifting the seeds from the juice.

Add salt, honey (from Honey Care Africa of course), and ice cubes.  Serve chilled!

   This is a shout out to my fellow 'fellows', especially Alex.  (And of course, Farouk). When in Kenya, buy some Honey Care Africa honey - it supports small-scale sustainable bee-keeping enterprises!

Travelling Alone 101

So here I am, taking a giant leap across the Atlantic to live and work in a completely different world for an entire 8 months. And I suddenly realize, I am completely alone. I have never actually travelled alone before. My first experience overseas involved a tag team of 20-somethings as volunteers in Guyana. My second and third experiences involved my partner in crime and a few other ruffians who decided to give teaching in China a shot. So here I am, alone, awoken suddenly by the muezzin calls to prayer at 4 am, in Mombasa, Kenya. And I say to myself, “What have I gotten myself into?”.

It has now been exactly 4 days since I landed turbulently on the island of Mombasa (yes, I am living on an island, who knew?) and I was greeted by my supervisor and his wife, and promptly taken to a highly secure, walled compound, complete with guards, bolted doors, and razor wire. I am told “ You will be safe here”. Safe from what, exactly? And in those 4 days, here is what I learned about travelling alone:

Lesson #1: Friendliness (and tips) gets you (almost) everywhere.

I have been eating at a local restaurant within seconds walking distance from the office, and was finding I was getting absolutely horrendous service. My first time there, it took around 30 minutes to get the menu and another 45 to be served. This first time, the tab was taken care of. The second time I arrived, it took about 20 minutes to get a menu, and another 30 to get my food. This time, when I received the bill I panicked and struggled to remember if we learned anything about tipping in Kenya at the orientation. I paid an extra 5 shillings (1 cent) and promptly left, embarrassed. However, my third time dining at this particular establishment, I was ready with the knowledge that Kenyans, in fact, do not tip. But I noticed something peculiar. The waiter greeted me with a smile and brought me a menu the second I sat down. Attempting to be adventurous, I decided to ask the waiter what he recommended. With a great smile, he said that they had the best 'chana bateta' something or other. Knowing from my Guyana experience, chana is chick peas with Indian spices, so I went for it. I couldn't believe how fast my food came, about 5 minutes. Needless to say, I tipped an extra 10 shillings, and walked away smiling. (Oh and the chana bateta was a spicy soup with peanuts and kind of chick pea dumpling – and it was delicious!)

Lesson #2: Learn the local language, and learn it fast.

Funny story this one is. For a couple of days now, my colleagues at the office have been encouraging me and bugging me to learn Swahili. I have been practicing some basic words, such as 'jambo' (hello), 'habari' (also hello), 'asante' (thank you), and 'mzuri' (i am fine). Also, I made a goal to learn how to count to ten. This is quite challenging, since every time I go to count on my fingers I start speaking Chinese. But I practiced and practiced. And today, I thought I'd try it out on my colleagues, since they were bugging me (in a playful way), yet again! Well let me tell you something: The word for number ten in Swahili is 'kumi'. However, when I got to number ten I instead said “kimu”. There was quite a lot of laughter and I was corrected. Later on in the day when a female colleague had me alone for a moment, she informed me that the word I spoke actually meant a certain body part. Lesson learned. And I will never forget the number ten in Swahili.

Lesson #3: Relationships are key.

Greeting everyone in the office and at my 'home' has been an important part of my staying sane. It is also a great way to practice Swahili! There are a number of people in my life now that I would never have back home. The host-lady I am living with, the maid, the driver, and my office colleagues. I do my best to greet everyone, ask them how they are, and in doing that, attempt to build some kind of connection. The most challenging part is learning everyone's name. So I have a running joke with my colleagues, asking them not only “How are you” in Swahili, but then “And what is your name...for the 5^th time?”

Lesson #4: Sharpen your internal reasoning.

Without having someone nearby to toss questions, ideas, and concerns around, it becomes pertinent to think clearly and on the spot. With a travel companion, you have the advantage of experiencing something together and deciding what would be a good or bad idea depending on the situation. I came to a few conundrums this week already:

1. Should I eat this?
2. Will this power outlet make my computer explode?

Maybe I am spoiled, but I am accustomed to having a travel companion who either pretends he knows the answer, or he's just super smart ; )

Lesson#5 Go exploring.

As I mentioned earlier, one of the first impressions I got of Mombasa was that I had to be on lock-down in a high walled, high security compound. During orientation in Canada, I was warned of the many 'don'ts' to ensure my safety: don't walk at night alone, don't wear jewelry, don't carry lots of money, don't carry a fancy phone, don't go to an ATM but go into the bank, etc etc. I was again reminded of my vicarious position when my host padlocked and dead bolted a series of doors and gates from within her own house. (Add this to the already high walled compound, guards, shards of glass, and razor wire). To add to the fear of whatever I was supposed to be afraid of out there, I was informed I would have a driver to and from work every day. And I asked myself, “Am I ever going to get to see Mombasa?” “Am I allowed to go out?”

So what did I do today? I went out. I saw Mombasa (or at least one block of it) and it was exhilarating. I felt a mix of thrill, then fear, then thrill. I was stared at. But I wasn't robbed. I wasn't harassed. I was free!

Lesson #6: Be patient.

I have learned over the years, that when you get to a new, totally foreign place where people may not speak your language, it is important to find the essentials: grocery store, bank, cell phone/internet provider, gym, and a local hang out. My second day here, after what felt like 12 hours of sleep, I had all of these things on my mind. How can I get Internet? Where can I get a SIM card? How do I get money? Where will I go running to stay sane and in shape? Where are all the expats? How do I get food? Who can answer all of my questions?

But instead of freaking out, which, as my family and close friends will attest I enjoy doing, I decided to “take it day by day” : a motto my Mom has insisted upon me, but I never followed. (Kudos to you Mom!). And things have been coming along slowly but surely, and in the nick of time too. Just as I was whining to some of my other 'fellows' about my sense of loneliness in a totally foreign place, a young woman stepped into my office. She promptly introduced herself as a fellow Canadian who had previously worked in Mombasa within the same program I am currently in. We exchanged numbers, made a date for lunch, and exchanged laughs about being 'alone' in another world.

Another lesson in this story? Listen to your mom, she is a world of wisdom.  

My dream job

         As many of you know, I will be heading to Kenya for an 8 month internship where I will be pursuing my passion for child and youth development in marginalized communities.   Even after a month of intense training and meeting and socializing with 15 of the most amazing 'fellows' I've ever known, I am still beside myself about this once in a lifetime opportunity.


        What many of you may not know, is what I am actually going to do in Mombasa.  I have been placed at the Madrasa Resource Centre, which is a project of the Aga Khan Foundation.  It provides support for preschools in rural areas of Kenya.  From what I know at this point, I will be collaborating with the resource centre and preschools to improve and produce reports, case studies, articles, manuals, and briefs. My main area of focus will be gender, HIV/AIDS, and early childhood education.


       And what do I expect? To absorb it all, learn, and have fun!


       I hope that this blog will be a place to connect and share with everyone back home, as well as place for me to reflect on my experiences.


      Hello and thanks to all who stop by!