Thursday, May 28, 2009

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.

Monday, May 11, 2009

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.

Monday, May 4, 2009

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.


Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Masai Mara

I couldn't wait! 3 days safari on the famed Masai Mara wildlife reserve. April is not really the best time to go as the rains can make the terrain un-navigable, so being rained out was a possibility.

We were staying in a tented encampment on the West side of the reserve. The place wasn’t busy so we were treated well and the food was fantastic. The fact that the weather was chilly compared to Mombasa intensified all our appetites.

The Mara itself is big, over 70 sq miles. As soon as we landed Simon (tour guide) and George (driver) took us on there first game drive. Before we even unpacked we had seen Thompson and Grant Gazelles, water buffalo, warthogs, mongooses, zebras and hippos swimming in a Mara river tributary. Simon was full of interesting facts on the local wildlife; who was part of what family of animals; how to tell the difference between male and female of the species without looking at their ‘apparatus’, etc...


Some interesting facts:
- Zebras and giraffes can prolong their pregnancies by 2 months during periods of drought to give their offspring the best chance of survival











- Giraffes can release a hormone that causes a natural abortion if they know the conditions are not favorable to their offspring’s survival













- Warthogs have a very short memory span. If chased, they run away with their tail in the air like a radio controlled car, stopping after a short time to graze because they have totally forgotten they are being chased. Not sure how that particular evolutionary trait has persisted!
(Warthog ran off before I got a picture)

- Water buffalo are dangerous…don’t f*** around with ‘em










- White Rhinos are not that much different in color to black rhino’s. A rhino’s color is mostly connected with the type of soil they graze in















- A hippos excretes a natural oil on it skin that acts like sunscreen stopping their skin from splitting











And many more facts that I only vaguely remember now…


Needless to say by the second day I was fully entranced by the wonders of the remarkable Mara fauna. But as time went on our tastes started to get more specific. Where are the Lions, Giraffes, elephants, Rhino’s and Leopards?! The tour guide was a model of patience and advised us to be patient and then we’d be lucky.



Leaving the compound that day we immediately got up close to a group of giraffes. These wonderfully graceful creatures connected the land to the horizon, as they eyed us curiously.


Next we got up really close to a Lion who was soon joined by his playful son. As they played only yards from the jeep, totally ignoring us, trepidation mixed with wonder. Their proud postures and movements left no doubt as to who was the King around here.







This is my favourite photo of the trip.









On the last full day safari we saw white Rhinos and Elands close up, and finally got close to elephants, although they were mostly hidden in a heavy thicket.


























That afternoon we went to visit a Masai Village. I will admit I was bit skeptical about it being a tourist trap but the “manyatta” had an authentic feel and we were treated with generous curiosity rather than as walking wallets.

After a welcome dance all the Lads (i.e. Masai Lads and me) did the traditional Masai jumping dance. I think it is usually done to catch a Ladies eye but no offers were forthcoming after I jumped/danced. They were probably just in awe of my natural talent, or more likely frightened off by my manic facial expressions.













After a quick visit to the Masai craft shop we were off back home for dinner. Then the heavens opening and it rained all evening and night. All too quickly the Mara was left behind us, but its wild beauty is something I will not soon forget. It was deadly in fairness.

M.
Cultural learning
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Sitting around the camp fire at night we listened to hyenas, frogs, crickets, birds and occasionally heard a Lion roar in the distance. A young Masai tended the fire, Robert (his christian name), only 20, and just married the previous year. His wife had to singlehandedly built their mud house and he had only paid 5 of her 10 cow dowry. He epitomised the content and peaceful nature that everyone we met on the Mara seemed to posess.








More Pictures










A cute little Dik Dik












Breakfast out on the Mara














Stuck in the mud


Wednesday, March 18, 2009

The Importance of being Irish

I've repeated the same joke too many times. What do Kenyan's call St Patrick Day. That's right, Tuesday. It was only slightly funny the first time I said it. On the evening of Paddy's I was out in the pub when my Mum called. All the family were lined up to talk to me. Mam, Matt, Katie, John, Mary, Dec, Jeanette and of course little Callum. They all had a great time in Cheltenham even though the family horse caught a cold and didn't run. Before I finally put down the phone we had left the pub, got in a taxi and arrived at Bobs "Irish Bar". The barmen had no idea it was Paddy's Day and looked on bemused as we got progressively more boisterous. I got home at some ungodly hour. As you can imagine work today was an absolute pleasure!

Meanwhile back in Bombolulu, the rains have started so I'm not losing my bodyweight in sweat everyday. Running around like a manmad at work hasn't helped. The months are passing and finally we are starting to work on integration information systems. The Production Tracking System (PTS), the product costing, the Product codings...it exciting stuff but I won't bore you the details. The Management meetings have been happening on a regular basis, which is good. I was even asked to say the prayer at one of them. I can't remember what I said but it seemed to be acceptable anyways.

Went over South side to Diani a few weeks back. Just relaxing on the beach and getting too much Sun. Big read head on me I had for the whole of the following week. You have to use the Likoni Ferry to get across to the south side, which is a far from charming experience. Someone tried to pickpocket me on the way over, and on the way back we were left waiting 30 minutes, in the soaring heat, before loading. We got off lightly though, as they often break down. Diani is well worth it though as the beaches are deadly and the atmosphere relaxed. Although, watch out for the Monkeys, one of the cheeky @&*! robbed a doughnut right out from under my nose!
I am fairly well integrated in Bombolulu life now and spend Sunday afternoon sitting with the locals, avoiding the local brews they are drinking, and greeting passersby and having the craic. I often get asked why I'm not married. It is almost unthinkable to be 35 and not married here. I have promised to bring my wife to Kenya when I find one.

Just outside the compound the first tented table is my fruit and veg Lady. I can only buy vegetables she doesn't have elsewhere. I tend to hide anything of that sort deep in my bag if I do, as I have to pass her on the way in. She did after all introduce me to Mango with pepper salt treat. A 5 bob wonder.

My Viasa supplier is the HR manager's wife. I buy off her when she is there. The pili pili (crushed tomato and chilies) is not as good at the other vendors. It has become a staple of my diet.
Have been seriously neglecting my blogging duties recently. Too busy living it to be writing it. Life is busy, but life is good.

Belated Happy St Patrick's Day to everyone!

M.

Cultural Learning

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Corruption in politics is a way of life in Kenya. There are usually numerous scandals on the go at any one time. Most ordinary Kenyan's are feed up to the teeth of it. Recently some protests turned ugly and all the volunteers re-familiarized themselves with VSO evacuation procedures. There is a very small chance that it may happen but sure there is no point worrying about it till it does. Take a look at http://www.nation.co.ke/. Every second story is about dodgey dealings. Some of them Fianna Fail boyos would do well out here.
St Patrick's night - Brendan (Canada), Alan and Seamus (Mayo), all volunteers with various organisations

Monday, February 23, 2009

The Big Day!

The big day arrived. Time to upgrade Jewelry Production!














The Plan





















The Clean up



















Marking the lines























The New Tables





















Painting the Lines






















Assigning the Seats




















Moving the BIG Table




















The Control Flow Arrows

























At End of the Day

Friday, February 20, 2009

Work; Eat; sleep.

Last weekend was quiet. I wasn't feeling well so besides a trip to the bank to collect my ATM card I pretty much stayed in. One of the soccer lads called to the door to see if I wanted to play soccer on Sunday but I politely declined. There was a Muzungu tourist playing so I guess they wanted to balance the sides. The night before was Valentines but I normally ignore that anyways. It is as big in Kenya as at home with the women dressing predominantly in red, and loads of teddybears doing the rounds. At least the women folk are getting treated well here one day of the year.

At work we are planned for the new Jewelry Production floor Plan. I have taken up a Project co-ordinator role, have an implementation plan and all! But it has meant never ending planning meetings which has tired everybody out.


Wednesday evening was different. Makoa the office 'runner' kindly collected a package from the post office sent by Neal, my Irish mate in Canada. All the lads gathered around as I opened and I passed around the books, shared the music and films and papers/magazines. We all had a long conversation about films and music. I even got a packet of rolo's. I gave Nato my last one. It's OK it has no significance here . The Time magazine had The Big 'O' on the front so of course they were all mad to keep it. There was even a bidding war starting...so we agreed that it would stay in the office until everyone has read the Obama story. Most of them borrowed a book to read, in fact I lent most of the books I have read to Makoa. He loved 'Memoirs of a Geisha', thought it was the best book ever. That evening I happily whistled my way home and read for a very long time...Neal you are a legend of a man!

Since my last blog, Abdu's Dad invited us all out to Kikambala (a few miles outside Mombasa) for a BBQ. The family have a beautiful house (similiar to those in Lamu) with four floors each with ever more stunning views of the sea. His Dad spends the Summer months in Canada and lives in Kenya during the winter. He is a advisor (Political science) for the UNDP and the house was was full of books and winding staircases. His Dad stood captivated as he explained that Vasa Da Gama, the Porteguese explorer, would have sailed past here in the 15th century. Cool!


After a hour or two on the beach we sat down to what can only be described as a feast. All the volunteers and Abdu's Da's friends ate and drank with abandon. It was mighty. Later we were supposed to go out but after a few drinks we ended up just kicking back at my place with a bottle of Kenya cane.

Note to self: bring a bottle home for the brothers to sample.


Back at work the Kaizen "Vital few" is forming our way forward. Put simply, we are building the four pillars for future success, which are:


Culture: Motivate the employees to be stakeholders in Bombolulu's future, therefore more co-operative, productive and open to change...and Communicate! Communicate! Communicate! (note to self: speak slowly. Even when tired or excited!)


Finance: Financial goverance to encourage (ahem, enforce) cost awareness, cost effectiveness and accountability


Operations: Improve supply chain methods and controls ensuring on time delivery of quality products

Marketing: Explore and exploit all potential Markets Local and export, using all available resources (especially d'internet)


Oh ya, and every so often just kick back and enjoy ourselves.
M.


BBQ Pics









































































































Personal Learning
One of the first Kiswahili phrases I learnt was 'sina pesa', 'i don't have money'. You need it as you get begged at the whole time. One evening last week while walking to the workshop I was approached (well he wheeled his wheelchair) by a man I only vaguely knew. I said hello and when he stuck out his hand to shake mine, I took his hand. I was still in motion as I was planning a slow walking handshake. But the handshake developed into a grip hold and I was stopped in my tracks. 'I am hunry. Please help me'. I have trained my mind to think, be sustainable, giving handouts isn't sustainable. But before I thought, I had reached into my pocket and gave him what change I had. F*** it, I'm not heartless. I can teach him how to fish tomorrow.