Deaf Games: Kilifi, Mombasa, and Mumias / Kakamega

After the departure of the last of the folks from the Coast Deaf Ed (plus two) trip yesterday, I tackled a bit more of the mountain of my laundry (I am happy to say that it is now down to a manageable level, rather than the get-eaten-alive-by-the-mountain level), watched a couple of movies and read a bit, I am finally sitting down on the computer with a couple of cups of coffee to finally start writing. I did not realize how much I missed writing – usually I will write in my journal or for the blog a few times a week, but over the past few weeks, I did not have any time or chance to do either, so you could say I am definitely catching up for lost time.

So, let’s start at the beginning, when the whirlwind all started – right here at Kibarani! Sarah came out here for a week during the last week of March with her students – we were to “compete” and practice together to develop a team representing Kilifi District. Now, Sarah’s unit is relatively new (started in 2006), so some of the teachers here at Kibarani was still a little resistant to the idea of including her kids, so that was a challenge right off the bat, and I should have seen that as a sign of things to come, but, naturally, hindsight is 20/20. Regardless of the issues between her unit and Kibarani, it was grand having Sarah here, meeting her awesome kids, and cooking up a storm.

As the pieces fell in place, the 80 kids were picked to represent Kilifi District, and the 10 teachers were picked to accompany (including Sarah and me), we were headed to Mombasa, at Ziwani School for the Deaf (Paul’s site) where we would meet upwards of 500 children from various districts throughout the Coast to compete and create a team representing the Coast. After panicking slightly about packing for a month and tying up all the loose ends here before I headed off, I buckled down and packed, cleaned up the place, and was ready the next day.

We piled up a meter or two of mattresses on the top of the bus, crammed the children and teachers in the bus, and drove the hour and a half down to Mombasa. Communicating via the secret language of the high beam flashers known only to the drivers of Kenya, our school driver got us all there in one piece.

Upon arrival, I was not only excited about the Games, but also to see the other Peace Corps Volunteers and trade stories. We got into Ziwani, after a couple of hours trying to figure out where the kids are sleeping, where the teachers are sleeping, and where the PCVs are going to sleep, we finally got everything settled up. Paul’s tiny one-bedroom place has been assigned as the PCV headquarters, and originally seven of us (but later we found out one could not make it), was expected to sleep crammed in there.

Hey, we told ourselves, we’re PCVs! It’s all good! This began to become our mantra for the next few days (and my mantra for the next few weeks).

The first night, we found out that there was a major miscommunication (to put it nicely) between two of the PCVs that worked with Malindi District and one of the teachers about the dates of departure (Sunday versus Monday), so that was frustrating for us. The communication difficulties did not end there. We worked hard, spending time with the kids, trying to figure out how it all worked, how to make sure all the kids are where they should be, and constantly talking with the other teachers. Marveling at how smoothly and effortlessly the older PCVs interacted with their children, I had to keep reminding myself that they all had been here for one year longer than I had, and I would get to that point sometime in the future.

Regardless of the smoothness of the interaction with the kids was, all of us PCVs, including the older ones, had a struggle with the clear communication with the people who were running the competition. Cultural differences definitely plays a huge part in the whole thing, as it seemed to bother us PCVs much more than it bothered the other Kenyan teachers / Deaf Kenyan staff.

In addition to the communication issues, there was a huge problem at Ziwani, in where Paul has labeled, “The Water Problem,” and it is exactly what it is – there was not enough water for the people staying at Ziwani. As Paul mentioned, there was not enough water to begin with for the 150 students and the teachers of Ziwani, not to mention the additional 400 children and 80 teachers, so needless to say this created a very interesting situation on its own, but when you throw in equatorial heat and track and field at high noon, it created an even more interesting situation.

Making sure that the kids of Kilifi had enough water and glucose to prevent dizziness was a task upon itself, working with the kids on dealing with the choo issues (not enough water plus 500 kids plus too few choos creates a huge mess), trying to deal with Paul’s choo (which was invaded and clogged), it was definitely an obstacle course that we had to run.

Regardless of the communication issues, “The Water Problem” and a major case of sleep deprivation, I had a great time meeting the kids of the other schools, chatting with my kids, watching the games, the performances and dances, celebrating Megan’s birthday with a cake that Sarah and I baked on my stove, eating a few meals out in Mombasa, and just basically celebrating the fact that I have survived my first three months at the site (which, supposedly are the hardest three months next to training).

Kilifi District did well in many areas, and we sent off quite a few kids to represent the Coast Province, and I was proud of the kids representing Kilifi. After the trophy ceremony (which we waited five hours for – in training they told us to make sure we had two pocketfuls of patience – I think this piece of advice paid off that day), the kids and teachers going to Mumias / Kakamega was chosen, and then the rest of the children and teachers started making preparations to head back to their schools, and then home.

I was planning on going to Mumias on my own if not chosen to head there with the Coast folks, and after buying tickets to head over there, I received word that there was an problem with a friend, and the trip was delayed for a couple of days. After hanging out and trying to figure out things, I finally got a ticket heading to Nairobi, sleeping over, and then continuing another eight hours to Mumias.

As I reached Kakamega, the bus broke down, and they put us all on a matatu continuing to Mumias – I arrived at St. Angela’s School out in Mumias, and met with the teacher who I was to stay with. West Kenya was outrageously gorgeous – the weather was cool and perfect, a contrast to the hot and humid Coast.

St. Angela’s did not have “The Water Problem” as it rained (or as Paul aptly puts it, free water falling from the sky!) everyday we were there, and the kids of the Coast Province happily reported that the choos worked just fine. All of the events were held at the academy in the Mumias Sugar Factory compound (that was the huge sugar company of Kenya, where practically everyone buys sugar from, so that was kind of cool to see where it was all produced), a few kilometers from St. Angela’s.

I arrived in Mumias the night before the day of the cultural performances, and saw the Coast perform superbly regardless of the insanely long day, talked with a few Deaf teachers, and just basically took in the whole scene. The communication problems continue to rear its ugly head, and after talking with a couple of the other teachers, they told me that it was the norm for these events, and it just is what it is.

In addition to checking out another part of the country, I got to meet another PCV that I have been corresponding with for approximately two years (we were put in touch by a mutual friend, and a number of factors prevented us from meeting face to face over the two years), and it was nice to finally meet him in person.

Watching another lengthy trophy celebration, cheering when the Coast won the cultural events day, talking with some of the students who complained about the lengthy bus ride back home, I realized that almost three weeks has passed since the Games technically began in Kilifi, and two weeks since the beginning of the Mombasa competition.

At that point, I also realized that the next day I was to be headed to Nairobi to meet up with a few of the fellow PCVs for a celebration and then a good majority of the PCVs in PC-Kenya at our ten-day inter-service training, and as a result of that, I would be jumping into a completely different world.