Musings of a 40-year-old virgin

As time ticks over into another decade of life, the first thing I'm thinking of is the goddamn huge party I'm missing out on being in Kenya. Two years ago plans were already in the pipeline for an event to rival John Howard's discovery that sex could be enjoyed with the lights on, an event combining the new (house DJ spinning some smooth tunes between live act sets) with the old (Mental as Anything as the live act) played out in a rented pub (including accommodation) on the outskirts of Sydney where 50+ people would be partying the night away. Instead, the evening of my 40th will be spent enjoying a relatively quiet night at a Japanese sushi restaurant in Nairobi with a visit to one of the upmarket clubs afterwards as a reward to the “disco” inside me itching to get out just once in a while.

My liver thanks me.

So what to reflect on from four decades of life?

Recently I've been considering the road I've travelled to get to where I am at the moment, here in Africa. It's certainly a road that could never be called traditional or mainstream. And while I can hold my hand up and admit to my fair share of mistakes, when I look back there’s one thing I feel 100% confident in saying: If I had my life over I wouldn't change any of it. Not one bit. Now how many folk can truly say that?

I recall the first morning I woke up with that feeling. It was actually two years ago, in the middle of my three months in Sri Lanka helping out after the tsunami. I woke up one morning, tired and sore from helping a small French NGO tear down semi-damaged dangerous buildings, but with a clarity of thought that I hadn’t felt for years: that where I was right there and then was exactly where I was supposed to be. And all along my subsequent journey that has brought me to where I am at the moment that feeling has remained. And this in spite of doubts that have been expressed by others at various times, including those close to me. And while those doubts coming from people I would have hoped would support me even if they didn’t agree with me has hurt, and at times have even caused me to doubt my own feelings, in the end I have kept true to what I believed in. Which at the end of the day, when we’re all lying there on our deathbeds and reflecting on our lives, is the most that any of us can hope to have achieved.

So here I am. 40 years old – yes, I'll say that again, just so I'll believe it myself: 40 years old. I’m starting out on a brand new career. I own nothing of substance in the world. I have limited financial security to fall back on. In short, all the material possessions I have in this world I can see by looking around me as I type these words in my room in Africa. But do I have any concerns about this lack of “substance” of the material in my life? Not one iota.

My life isn't measured by the possessions I own. My life is the experiences I have had. It is the friends I have made across the world. It is the feeling I have when I go to bed at night, tired from a day's work that is full of meaning. In short, my life is I. And, just between you and me, I’m pretty happy with it.

So raise a drink this weekend to 40 years of life. A life that's been interesting, full of variety, and above all else, my own!

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Americans and guns - you've gotta laugh!

I mean, if you don't laugh what's the alternative? Crying? It's not so much their belief that no matter what, no matter how many school/University/public space bloodbaths there are, that there should still be no changes to their gun laws coined back when militia were a legitimate part of a country's defense. It's more the unwillingness to even want to discuss the matter in any way, shape or form. And if you attempt to do so, and don't happen to be American yourself, watch out for those accusation to come flying at you: "US bashing", "everyone thinks US = devil" - and the one I love best: "You guys from outside the US just have no idea". Funny though that I don't recall ever putting forward a viewpoint or question on this subject that I haven't read or heard being put forward by an American elsewhere. Seems it can only be an American with any clue about America, even if the information you're presenting is the same. Gotta love the logic!

But then, logic has no place in a discussion with many Americans about gun laws. I mean, what was I thinking?!

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Sleepless in Kenya (and the issue of skin colour raises its ugly head)

It's been a while since my last email/post, and together with a rather restless night with not much sleep I thought it about time I threw some verbiage together to let folks know what's been happening. Good stuff for the most part, but also some issues arising most definitely from the colour of my skin and the expectations arising from that. But first the good stuff.

Our next Michezo Youth Initiative junior football tournament is in three weeks time, April 14. Some of you may (or may not) realise that this is quite a gap since our last tournament, December 9 and 10 last year. Four months? Our original plan has been to hold tournaments monthly, so what's changed?

Well, our original plan had always been that these initial tournaments were merely a stepping stone to creating a youth league in the area. They were a way of raising awareness of who we were and what we were doing, of bringing youth volunteers onboard to learn how to plan and manage a community football and HIV/AIDS education program, and of starting relationships with both the junior teams, schools and other organisations within the community that would be essential for working together in the implementation of our overall goals and objectives.

As it turned out, our first two tournaments were a great success on all fronts. With over 1,000 participants across both events, over 30 volunteers provided with training and the opportunity to help implement the program, and working in most cases through the local schools to reach the teams and their coaches, we achieved all that could have been hoped for within the first few months. And we also learnt a few things that could only be learnt by getting out there and starting.

One of those things was that the way we were implementing the tournaments was not feasible in the medium to long term. We required over 30 volunteers to run a tournament day. With the number of reliable, committed volunteers along with our aims to do a little more than just deliver football tournaments, this was just much too high a number to continue.

So, after much head scratching, more than a few sleepless nights, and even thoughts that I really had bitten off more than I could chew, I came up with a plan that acts as a stepping stone to our overall goal of a league. And it also starts putting responsibility on the young people who want to be involved, rather than have them sit back and let me do all the work.

So now we have divided the local area in four regions, with an "Area Manager" for each region. And their initial responsibility was to plan and manage a qualifying program for the April tournament, to produce area winners that proceed to the tournament. A little like World Cup qualifying, though admittedly in a very small, microscopic, far more amateurish and far more barefoot way than the actual World Cup I guess. It means less teams at (and less volunteers to run) the actual tournament, but overall with the qualifying more teams/players involved in total.

And it's been predominantly a great success!! We have less volunteers involved as such, but are engaging far more kids and allowing the volunteers more responsibility and in turn earning more rewards down the track (training ...etc).

Now, I do say "predominantly", since one of the unfortunate influences on the program in some ways is the colour of my skin.

The Colour of Money (and my skin!)

I'm white. "No?" you say. Yes, yes I am. And as such, I'm perceived here to be rich. Now, those of you who know me well will have some idea of how far from the truth that is. And while I can definitely accept that my capacity to earn may be higher than many here (I could go home and get a "real" job after all, and earn a decent salary), the truth is that in my current circumstance, location and vocation that is very far from the truth. However, no matter how many times I point out to a car and house owning local that I myself cannot afford a car or house, their belief in this is often minimal at best.

So, I have become used to the "hand out" habit. That is, either figuratively or sometimes actually, many folks both young and old hold their hand out to me asking for something for nothing.

With the kids I can usually understand and accept this habit, and I don't let it annoy me so much. I usually turn it back on them, and ask them for something in return. They laugh and I go on my way. And even for most of the adults, those I don't really know, I just ignore and take it as "one of those things". However, there are some that really... REALLY.... should know better. Such as...

Two instances occurred yesterday (and hence my sleepless night). The first:

Mary, my Area Manager for the immediate area, went to speak to the Head Mistress at the school we had utilised for our qualifying games last weekend, just to confirm permission for this coming weekend. The Head Mistress raised the issue of cleaning the toilets after our games, which was fair enough, in principle. When asked how much this might be, she said that we should pay 1,000 Kenyan Shillings (Ksh) for this to be done by their cleaner.

Now, let me put provide some context for the amount she was asking, for cleaning a total of four cubicles. Our housekeeper that comes three days a week, 6 hours a day to clean our three bedroom, two office and two bathroom residence/office, earns 1,000Ksh a week. Our askari (security guard) that works from 7:00pm to 6:00am works 6 nights a week, earns around 4,500Ksh a month.

So why was the Head Mistress asking for such an exorbitant amount for an hour's work at best? Well, when Mary did arrive to speak with her, the greeting was, "Oh, you're the girl who was with the mzungu (white person) aren't you?" Would the figure of 1,000Ksh have been proposed if there was no mzungu involved?

The second instance, and one that was even more cutting on a personal level, due to the prior existing relationship I have with the individual involved:

Action for Children in Conflict (AfCiC) (the organisation I originally came here with for those with short memories) have been working with one of the local primary schools, St Patrick's, on a couple of initiatives: the creation of a feeding program at the school for vulnerable children; and the running of a Holiday Club during the August school holidays to keep kids busy with fun activities and off the streets. Both have been going for a number of years, and the headmaster has been a very cooperative and helpful partner in the schemes.

He had also offered the use of the school field for our local qualifying games. But yesterday, I got a call.

"Hi Dave, it's Peter."
"Hi Peter, how are you?"
"Fine, fine. I am calling with some concerns."
"Okay, what's that?"
"Well, I'm wondering if you're going to provide food for the kids when they play this weekend?"

Some context for this, before quoting the rest of the conversation: There are no organised sports within the community for children. The best they have is a limited range of school sporting activities, but nothing outside of school hours. In the program we have begun, our qualifying games are being run like a mini-league. That is, each weekend a team plays one game against another team. So they come, play their game, and go home. Done and done in an hour or less. I guess many of us who grew up playing junior sports know the scenario: you arrive at the field with your mum or day, play your game, then head off home or via McDonalds to eat. I don't ever recall the competition organisers providing me with lunch...

"Peter, the kids are just coming for one game. Besides the fact we don't have the budget for this [he knows all about the program and how long it's been going], this is not something we would do just for one game."
"Well, I think it would be fair to do this."
"Peter, as I said, we don't have the budget for that. We are providing an opportunity for kids to play. If they don't want to play, they don't have to."
** Abrupt hanging up on the other end **

Moments later, I received the following text message: "Count St Patricks teams out as its unfair and am unhappy".

I could be wrong of course. This may have nothing to do with the colour of my skin. It might have happened exactly the same if I was a local Kenyan attempting to implement a similar idea. However, certain indicators suggest otherwise. A Bishop of a local church, part of a very large international denomination, who has offices both here and in the US, runs a tournament every year. During this tournament teams may play three of four games during quite a long day. Do they get food? No.

And the most annoying thing about these two incidents: it's the adults ruining it for the kids. The kids just want to play. And they are the ones who, because of this interference by adults, run the chance of missing out on potential opportunities in both sports and education. We already have an agreement from one organisation for a full educational scholarship for the best player once we have our league up and running. We also have two dozen footballs coming our was from Chelsea Football Club. Yes, THE Chelsea Football Club.

So, feeling a little exasperated at the moment. If I didn't have such a definite belief in what we can achieve, and didn't want to help the local kids so much, I'd really start questioning if it was worth it. But, for these kids and what we can create for them, I'll take the crap from some of the adults on the chin, and make sure we work with the kids as directly as we can.

(Oh, and don't forget to skip a beer this weekend and donate $5 you cheap buggers: www.justgiving.com/michezo)

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Tired, tired, tired...

Feeling tired this week, really, really tired. Was to be expected somewhat, with the second Michezo Youth Initiative tournament this weekend, but still, perhaps didn't expect to be feeling quite THIS tired. I have my moments where I wonder if I've bitten off more than I can chew, if what I am aiming for is really possible for one person to manage. It would be one thing to be project managing a community program with paid staff members and a decent budget, quite another to be relying on for the most part unemployed youth and young people, many of them from the slum area outside Thika town, and running on the smell of an oily rag at the moment still. (Yeah, a long way from the $1.5 million that Mathare Youth get every year from their Norwegian supporters, though that has been 20 years in the building.)

But I should probably expect to have moments like this. It's not overnight that someone with barely a high school education and no work experience is suddenly going to be able to manage and coordinate part of a program directly dealing with 700+ children. And that's just the second tournament. Those numbers increase exponentially as we develop our football league (our planned progression after the introductory tournaments), plus start adding other projects in the area of drama, art, the environment and so forth. As I keep saying to my volunteers (and I can't help it, they do feel like "my" volunteers), "poli poli"... or "slowly slowly" in Swahili. Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither is a community football program with the potential to reach tens of thousands.

So, Dave (yes, have made a habit of referring to myself in the third person when tired and dazed), you've gotta remember the bigger picture, and that long road that will need to be walked to reach those goals... those goals that are possible. One of the advantages of replicating (in part) a previously successful program, there is some evidence of what works. Of course, every area has its own unique requirements.

Will be missing home a little more this month too. Christmas and New Year is always a great time to be in Sydney town – "Eve of the Eve" at the Forbes... Boxing Day harbour cruise... New Year's Eve fireworks always huge (and lucky!)... moonlight cinema... New Year's test at the SCG...

Anyway, last touches to be put on the plans and readiness for this weekend's tournament. "Bigger and better" is the catchphrase, with the definite emphasis on "better". We might actually have a few forfeits, with someone else holding a tournament the same day down the road. Stupid thing is, I've heard one of those running it is a guy called Stanley who has been helping us, and yet didn't think to check when our tournament was! Annoying. "Stupid", was how a couple of my volunteers called it. "He's a stupid, stupid man." I wasn't going to be so harsh, but has given me second thoughts on his value as a contributor to MYI.

Oh, reminds me... I've found out that even in community sports, I can't get away from politics. Everyone seems to have a problems or dark history with everyone else around these parts. So-and-so has said such-and-such behind his back, this guy over here was tried to take advantage of someone over there... Sigh... Sometimes feels like I'm the only straight person around the place, the only one with little enough self-interest to have absolutely no problem with gaining nothing at all out of all this so long as it contributes positively to the young people in the community. And you try convincing anyone of that in a country where corruption, self-interest and tribalism are a way of life!

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Rain, mud and football

Damn, time goes by fast sometimes... just a couple of weeks out from the second Michezo Youth tournament and the new, fully developed website is up. More than just a few photos now. A few sleepless nights trying to get this finished amongst all the other work I have going on at the moment. Too busy, too busy, such is my life away from the corporate world, busier than ever!

www.michezoyouth.com

Please check the site out, and (one final mention), please, please if you can spare a couple of bucks do so at www.justgiving.com/michezo/. Was REALLY relying on friends and "friends of friends" to cover the first year's funding for this project. Am very confident of finding local funding for the long term future, but need this first 12 month "breathing space" to get the project up and running, bring the local youth volunteers up to speed with the tasks required, and accumulate enough data to validate the program objectives. You can also download a PDF "poster" that hopefully some of you might be able to print out and post up in your office? If possible... along with sending this email out to your friends...

As I said, won't mention it again, but please, wish me a Merry Christmas by donating a few dollars. I will be able to tell you exactly where your cash goes. And with over 600 kids playing in the first tournament, and around 10,000 children in the Kiandutu slum area, I dare say we'll be reaching a fair few within this first 12 months... with your help.

www.justgiving.com/michezo/

Speaking of getting the local youth "up to speed", have been trying to hand over many of the planning tasks to them for this tournament. It means a lot of hand holding to start off with, but only to be expected. Considering that none of them have ever done anything remotely like this, they're actually doing quite well. As with the first tournament in October, if nothing else the Kenyan youth are adaptable when it comes to completing a task. With a little bit of guidance and training I'm confident of them being able to do much more than just run a couple of football tournaments. We start with little steps...

Been raining like cats and dogs here recently. The "short rains" they call it, but seems like bloody long rains to me! Get anywhere away from the main town or highways and there is mud everywhere! Especially chronic in the slum area where we're running the football tournaments, Kiandutu. Rivers of mud flowing through the streets. Sorry Nat, no high heels here! But the kids love it of course... mud and water and slipperiness everywhere...

Speaking of mud and rain, I see the Wobblies got beaten by the Irish last weekend. Seems like we're a shoe in to NOT win the World Cup next year. I guess it will be kind of relaxing going into a tournament with no expectations for once. Seems that everything else there's all this pressure on us to win, so should be a relaxing tournament for the guys. Might have time to pick up a few French ladies... And ya gotta LOVE them French ladies... ;o)

Okay, that's it from me, just a quickie. Take care all, and hope you enjoy the start of the festive season!

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The mighty Eagles!!

What a great final that was, that one afternoon in September for 2006. Two champion teams going head to head for Australian sport's most prestigious prize (sorry ARL followers, AFL far outranks yours in terms of players, fan base and money. Plus, I personally find league, well, let's be honest here, bloody boring as batshit! I mean, come on, big dumb blokes running into each other, falling down, standing up, playing the ball back to another big dumb bloke, repeat 5 times before kicking to another big dumb bloke on the opposing team. Yawn!). And what a finish! My heart was literally in my mouth, more so being a Perth boy, even though I have been living in Sydney for the past decade or so. But you can take the boy out of the west, but you can't take the Sandgroper out of the boy!

But I was extremely lucky to even see the final. Kenya is not known as one of the AFL's hot markets, and so trying to find a bar or restaurant open at 7.30am Saturday morning willing to show the game on the South African sports satellite station Supersports turned out to be quite a challenge. One that I was willing to take up, doing for the boys who I know were relying on my support!

So, ring around early in the week, trying to test out the waters of the few KC's I knew around the place. KC? Kenyan Cowboy. Basically white Kenyans who speak with British accents for the most part (though a few with South African accents), socialise with other white Kenyans or visiting white foreigners, live in large walled compounds guarded and serviced by low paid black Kenyan staff, drive around in air conditioned 4WDs from walled compound to walled compound, and freak out whenever the idea of them actually coming into town is mentioned.

But they're not all bad... it's more that they're a product of their upbringing and environment. So not bad/evil/ugly people per se, just a little... well... different than the rest of us. And unfortunately the reason why I realised that I didn't really know of any KC who was a close enough friend to invite myself around at 7.30 on a Saturday morning to watch a sport they had absolutely no knowledge of or interest in.

And my other Kenyan friends, being black for the most part but also a few mwindi (Indian heritage - white: mzungu, black: mafrica, Indian: mwindi), don't have as pressing a need for the latest satellite stations beamed directly to their living rooms as do us white folk.

Okay, so that meant my only option was to find a bar or restaurant open at 7.30am on a Saturday with the sports channels. Easy in Sydney, not so easy in Thika or Nairobi.

A local Thika option was Thornton's Sports Bar. How to describe Thornton's...? If you can think of a cramped, stuffy, hot, overcrowded sports changing room, with neon lighting and sports or music volume of a similar level as a 747's engines on take off, you might get some idea of what the place is like. Of course, Saturday morning the place would either be closed or in the midst of clean up. If I could rely on my enquiries about being open for cleaning eliciting a reliable response it was an option. But with my nine months (and counting) experience of the unreliability of any accurate response or resultant appointment being met in Kenya, I decided there really wasn't much point in asking at all. No, what I needed was somewhere a little more "un-Kenyan" in its usual operations.

Not that I have anything against Kenya or Kenyans in general, just that they are extremely unreliable when I comes to being accurate with times and appointments. Kenyans' have the intelligence to do anything they want. Many of them, however, need a little reminding on issues of time... They follow what they call "African time", which as I say to my friends, is fine for matters of social occasions, but not where good business is concerned. Anyway, I'm digressing... another subject for another post sometime.

So off to Nairobi it was then. First challenge waking up 6.30 Saturday morning. Groan... but do I hate early mornings! Yeah, I know, whinge, whinge. There's most of you guys trudging off to office to work 9 to 5 while I get to experience African life and adventure, and here I am complaining about the odd early morning. But I gotta ell ya, I've tried to embrace the African life in many ways, and one of those is "poli poli" (slowly slowly), which is how I regard my mornings...

Anyway, succeeded in rising early, and so drive into the city, going through my options - the more upmarket bars/restaurants that would definitely have satellite and might have the best chace of being open either for breakfast or cleaning.

First option - closed.
Second option - closed.
Third option - closed.

Okay, now I was getting a little concerned. If I hadn't gone to all the effort of getting up with the intention of watching the footy no big deal. But now that I had, oh my God there damn well better be a television somewhere I could watch the game! Ugly Dave was rumbling inside.

Fourth option - Pizza Garden, part of the Jacaranda Hotel in Nairobi. Gate was open, good. Cleaners were about, okay. One of the TVs was on, great! Can I watch the game?

"You can try the pool bar across at the hotel sir, they're open for breakfast."

Damn. Run (it's now after 8.00, game started around 7.30) across the road, through the hotel ("Which way to the pool bar?", "Which way to the pool bar?", "Which way to the pool bar?"), and to the pool bar.

Nice big TV cabinet behind the bar, great, looks very promising.

"Excuse me mate, can I watch something on the sports channel while having breakfast?"

"Sorry sir, the barman has got the key, and he's not in until noon."

Damn.

Sprint back to the Pizza Garden. Convince them to let me in despite them being closed, and watch game through grilled TV cage (barman with key to cage not in here yet either). Might have watched a few unrecognisable players with faces hidden behind cage bars, but considering my efforts, all in all not a bad result. Well, except for the breakfast I "had" to buy to stay in the place, which cost about 10 times what I could have bought it for at a local restaurant. Sigh, the life of a mzungu (white person) in Kenya: over charged, over indulged... and over here.

Go you mighty Eagles!!

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I am not a terrorist!

I usually prefer not to just post stuff from other sites, I figure I have enough mindless crap to fill a dozen blogs... however, this did amuse me no end. I will definitely have to pick one up me thinks.

And I also love the featured quote:

"The point of terrorism is to cause terror, sometimes to further a political goal and sometimes out of sheer hatred. The people terrorists kill are not the targets; they are collateral damage. And blowing up planes, trains, markets or buses is not the goal; those are just tactics. The real targets of terrorism are the rest of us: the billions of us who are not killed but are terrorized because of the killing. The real point of terrorism is not the act itself, but our reaction to the act."

Couldn't have said it better myself. Is anyone still niave enough to think this is a "war" that can be "won"? Can anyone even tell me of any terrorist group that has been defeated with out and out force? It took the UK government thirty years to deal with the IRA at a socio-political level, I wonder if it will take Bush and his cronies that long to realise the same thing? Ain't it funny how us humans seem to repeat the same mistake over and over and over...

We really are stupid creatures aren't we?

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