Africa

Once upon a time an innocent (relatively), young (even more relative) Irish country lad came to Kenyan. After an initial period of being pointed at and called 'Muzungu'-White man, he came to be commonly known as Mr Mike. Mr Mike busied himself with all manner of IT related projects and enjoyed many highs, with only the odd "What the hell am I doing here!" moments.

Things happened in Africa that could never have been predicted. Who could have foreseen defeat at the feet of a 14 old girls soccer team; Or our intrepid volunteer being consulted on the design of a chain cutting machine, or helping out by drawing yellow arrows on the ground.

For you see, Africa is not predictable. Any given Tuesday you may be met by a picket line at work or armed policemen at the gate. A simple act of kindness from your neighbor can bring the realization that you are a valued part of the community. Implementing new payroll processes can mean that you, unintentionally, cause a family to go hungry. Saying that some historians surmise that Buddha and Jesus could have been one and the same, can lead to a sustained campaign by a colleague to save your soul from dark forces. We eventually agreed that everybody’s God is different, but in truth He is just the same.

He missed his Ma of course, and all his friends and family. He missed having a washing machine and the taste of a frothy pint of Guinness. He was poor by Western standards but well to do by third world ones. The lack of the merciless commercial onslaught he got at home meant that he, with time, forgot about all the new fangled accoutrements that would make his life easier and more modern. He never walked with his hands in his pockets, as it was just too damned hot. He sometimes walked hand in hand with male colleagues around Bombolulu cause that's just the way it is here. (But in truth it will always be a cultural adjustment beyond his comfort zone).

Side by side he worked with his African counterparts. Proud to call them friends. The Trocaire box pictures of his youth seem misplaced in memory. Come and see for yoursells. Mr. Mike ain't no preacher. That Muzungu doesn't have the answers.

He only has a vague idea as to what he'd do next year; but that's alright. When the time comes the decision will get made, and he’ll make the most of that decision till the next decision needs to be made.

I guess I’ll live happily ever after. That’s the plan anyways.

M.

A Family Wake

In 1982, the Galway Plate was won by 'The Lady's Master'. I was at home, outside, trying to calm me cousin Mark down after he fell. Even though we were both still in short pants we realised the importance of the event from family reactions. My Uncle Matt, the trainer, was the toast of Galway. Sadly, he'll toast no more. His last bottle of Brandy was, well, his last. The family buried him today.

This is the man who helped me get my first job...my grant in college...my first car insurance...a stranger to me now. He hasn't talked to me for years. The liquor did his talking for him these last few years.

What a waste. What a complete bloody waste. He is at peace now. At least that's something.

I wish I was at home. I'd stand my Da a drink...and he'll stand me one back...and he'll say...'tis a grand day out'..and you'd say...'I love you too, Da. Sorry for your loss.'. Then, I'd need another drink.

M.

HALF TIME, CHANGE SIDES!

The highlight of last month was the Masai Mara trip of course, but the VSO committee meeting in Kilifi (80km North of Mombasa) was the other memorable occasion. We are the envy of the Kenyan VSO volunteers as the coast meetings are always a riot. After the necessary order of business was completed, masterfully chaired by our outgoing chairperson Cocky and outgoing vice chairman Wayne, we lined up against Cocky's under 14 girls football side. (The Lads are going to rip me to pieces about this when I get home). Despite a lively start our lack of acclimatisation training in our preparations (i.e. in the 5 minutes it took to pick the team) lead to a defensive scramble that put us a goal down. That's how it finished, 1-0 to Moving the Goalposts under 14 girls team. The girls were gracious victors, and morale was high, as we mixed the players for the second half - a nil-all draw.



The girls are part of an empowerment through football program which has worked extraordinarily well. Go to http://www.mtgk.org/ to see more on this great initiative. In her 4 years here Cocky has really made a difference. My hat is off to you girl.



Closer to home my quest to leave such a legacy seems a long way off. I'm half way through my year and the time to face the tough question of sustainability has arrived. The cold reality has set it in that this isn't going to be easy. My motiviation is waning as I chase my tail day after day, battling the realities of working in an African NGO. I have unwittingly joined the firefighting mob and made the classic mistake of spreading myself too thin.

I am trying to step back from my ever growing 'to do' list and concentrate more on capacity building, that is, training, mentoring etc. Often I am asked if I will extend my contract for another year. It's unlikely but my trip home in June will give me a chance to assess my options.

Bombolulu is a great place, drives me mad at times, but while I want to solve all their problems I know that is not possible, neither is it my place. It's a lot bigger than me. I can make a small difference in my time here. Will have to put off saving the world till next year.

While adjusting my expectations has been difficult, there is no point running myself into the ground. Also,VSO trainings sing patience as a virtue. At times I think 'you can kiss my virtuous ass!'. Don't get me wrong, it's a good motto. Just hard to live up to. Patience needs to be refueled by time off, nights out, nights in, having the craic in the office and recently by getting a lend of a guitar off James...I can play ten chords a minute on that sucker!

I want to remember my experience here and smile. I must remember to stop and smells the roses every so often. Everytime I blink a month has gone by...6 months already...soon Africa will be a memory. That memory is now in the making.

The 'Masai' Duggan jumps to impress the women.

M.