A Typical Day

           A good friend of mine enthusiastically recommended I write about a typical day here at the Madrasa Resource Centre.  First off, I’m amazed at how interested you are, my friend - and thanks for idea as I was running low on them. Secondly, remember I do have an office job and I think the honeymoon stage has faded away after three months of being here.  So... just a warning that my life isn’t always filled with monkeys, bumpy field trips in the countryside, or singing the hokey pokey. (I only wish!)

 I searched around in my brain to find a few examples of a ‘typical’ day. Not every day is the same – and I often come to the office not knowing what to expect.   Today, for example is an ‘office’ day. With no field trips or major meetings going on, we usually stay in the office and catch up on writing reports. I also take advantage of this time to check email, read the local news, snoop on Facebook to keep in the loop with friends and family, and drink coffee.

The office I share with another colleague who works closely with School Committee Members.

       
         
           My alarm wakes me up at 5:30 most mornings.  I slowly crawl out of my mosquito net, throw on my running gear, grab my mp3 player, and head out the door with who is now known as my ‘Mombasa mama’- you all know her as Ms.N.  I’m still half-asleep as she careens in and out of potholes and around tuk tuks and matatus.  We arrive at the Mombasa Sports Club, climb out and set off for our morning run/walk for an hour.  When we get home, I have exactly 35 minutes to get ready for work. Then I’m out the door to jump into my mama’s friend’s car – who is now becoming my ‘auntie’ – and we careen in and out of potholes, around tuk tuks, and almost get T-boned by several matatus before I jump out in front of our office.

Tuk tuk

           A quick ‘jambo’ (Greetings) and ‘habari za asubuhi’ (Good morning) to the guard and his posse at the front door, then I climb up the stairs and greet every single person in the office (as per the proper custom) before I finally settle in for the day. Today I am working on a School Profile and a case study on Islamic Integration.  As a Communication and Documentation Fellow, I do a lot of reporting and research on schools. (I’ve also become the official photographer at any kind of event).  A School Profile is a snapshot of a preschool that we work with, complete with pictures and quick facts on enrolment and school fees.  These not only serve as narrative data for internal uses, but also for promotional and informational tools for visitors or potential donors.

            The case study on Islamic Integration is an exciting opportunity for me to learn about diversity and pluralism in rural Kenya, as well as a chance to put my research skills to good use.  Being originally a Muslim organization that provides support to Muslim communities, the Madrasa Resource Centre (MRC) has begun working with communities that are also Christian oriented.  The main point is that MRC works with marginalized Muslim communities and those among who live. There are a few schools in which there is a Christian majority among the students.   While this is of no concern to staff at MRC, there is curiosity from the upper echelons about how schools manage an Islamic-oriented curriculum with Christian students.  (In previous blogs, I explained how core Islamic principles are taught in the madrasa preschools as part of the curriculum. Islamic principles are a main foundation for the preschools that we support).

            My job is to interview School Management Committees and teachers in preschools that are identified as having a substantial amount or majority of Christian students.   The idea is to showcase best practices in managing diversity and pluralism, while also identifying major challenges and any need for further support.  It is a very exciting and interesting topic to be a part of, as religious differences around the world have created so much antagonism, disruption, and violence. But here, in rural Kenya, in a preschool no less, I am witnessing a microcosm of how communities from two different religious affiliations can peacefully coexist.

           One particular school, for example, has only 5% Muslim children enrolled, the rest are Christian.  The School Management Committee (SMC) consists of a 50:50 ratio of Christians to Muslims. When asked about managing diversity, especially with the part of the curriculum that is Islamic-based, a SMC member simply replied: “Religion should not be an issue. Why can’t we integrate two religions together in harmony?”  As it turns out, in this particular preschool, core Islamic principles are put aside and only very broad religious concepts are integrated into the curriculum.  Cross-cutting themes such as prayer, morals, and manners are taught to accommodate both Christian and Muslim students alike.

            Upon finishing my interviews, I am left with the simple yet vital notion that for this community the healthy development of their children trumps any differences, religious or otherwise. It is a great feeling to see a community take ownership of their school and manage it in their own unique and harmonious way.

             Oh and what else do I do on an ‘office day’?  Well if you must know, I’m attempting to reboot the Operating System on my useless Blackberry, uploading pictures from yesterday’s field visit to the internal office network, and checking up on the printer guys to see if the community calendars that I designed are ready to be sent to out. Often, colleagues drop by and throw more tasks at me (e.g. proofreading, attending meetings, or taking more pictures), give me a fly-by Kiswahili lesson, practice sign language with me (we were given an ad-hoc training session last month), ask me for computer help, or just chat and joke about life. This is a prime example of how a working environment can feel like a family.

One day a pigeon stopped by...

Street view from our office - a Hindu Temple

At 5 pm, after a long day of staring at my laptop and attempting to communicate in three different languages (English, Kiswahili, and signing), I say ‘tuonana kesho’ (See you tomorrow) to everyone, hitch a ride with my carpool or take an exhilarating and bumpy tuk tuk to my compound, and settle in for the evening.  It is not advisable to go anywhere once the sun sets, especially alone.  So I stay in, chat about life and eat dinner with my Mombasa mama (usually curry and rice), read a book, reflect, do some stretches or yoga, or throw on some downloaded TV before slipping inside my mosquito net of a cocoon, never really knowing what the next day will bring.

Quiet reflection.