This blog entry was written by Morgan, one of our younger expeditioners.
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| Morgan and a young Kenyan |
As you all know, during the summer after your senior year of high school, a lot of kids go on a “Senior Trip.” My parents had been making arrangements to take me on a European tour - Germany, Austria, Switzerland, etc. As the school year came to an end, classes got harder, AP tests started, and I complained about school more and more. One Sunday during church, a lady in my ward named Sue Tingey mentioned that she went on a humanitarian trip to Kenya. My dad confronted her about it, and asked if her and her husband would come over the next day and tell us more about it. At this time, we were just interested with no intention of actually going. They came over with a slide show presentation, and it hit home. They showed us their pictures, and told us about their experiences. Before they left that night, I knew that I needed to go. Two months later, I found myself in a place of beauty, poverty, and utter amazement.
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| Morgan and her dad, Burt, during layover in Amsterdam |
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| The last flight of the trip, flying from Nairobi to Mombasa |
After a long journey of flying and layovers, driving through streets of poverty and extremely bumpy roads, we finally arrived in Mombasa, Kenya where we would spend our first night.
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| Bombolulu worker making jewelry |
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| Wheelchair and hand-pedaled bike workshop at Bombolulu |
Once we arrived, we went to a place called Bombolulu, a community where disabled individuals work in workshops to make merchandise so they can earn their room and board. We went through the workshops to find blind, deaf, people without limbs, and others with miscellaneous disabilities. Although they were disabled, they were making beautiful things - woodcarvings, hand pedaled bikes, jewelry, clothes, handbags, and various items. As we went into the workshop where they made hand pedaled bikes for those who couldn’t walk, Bret informed us that if we wanted, we could buy a bike for someone in need. Everyone in our group insisted that they wanted to help by giving bikes to individuals in need, with an understanding that they wouldn’t meet the person who received it. My dad and I decided that we would buy one for someone. Soon after we started the paperwork, we noticed a young man crawling into the workshop on his hands and knees. We asked if we could give our bike to him, and we did. We presented him with the bike, and he was ecstatic. Although he didn’t speak English, we knew how grateful he was.
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| Morgan and the recipient of the specialized bike |
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| It is obvious the need this man has for a specialized bike for mobility |
One of the highlights of my trip was really getting to know the people. We didn’t jump from place to place sightseeing, but we lived in the village, and I got to watch and experience their everyday life.
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| Several of our group after teaching at the Windridge school |
Every morning at 7:00, the children run to school yelling “Jambooo!” as they pass with a bucket of water on their head, a stick to give so they can build a fire to cook their lunch - if they are lucky enough to get lunch, and a small plastic container so they can put their lunch in something if they get it. The women do their chores, which would consist of making breakfast - they have to peel the maize (corn), pound it, sift it, dry it, and then grind it. They then boil dirty water and stir in the corn flour until thick to make the staple food of Kenya, ugali. They take numerous walks to the watering hole so they have enough water for cooking, laundry, and cleaning. They go to their “shamba” (garden) and weed and till the rock-hard dirt. They walk miles to chop down branches with dull machetes so they have fuel to cook their food. And, they hand-wash all the clothes. This is their day… everyday.
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| Morgan and her grandma, Claudia, spent a day shadowing Betty |
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| Girls from the expedition became friends with Koins sponsored university students |
I had the opportunity to go to the Secondary School and play games with them, and talk to each other like we’ve been friends for years. I learned how differently we live, yet how similar we are. We all want the same things - we want to feel beautiful, to feel loved and accepted. One thing I learned is that school is precious. Primary school in Kenya is free of charge, but once you get to secondary school (high school), tuition is $300 per year. Many children don’t make it to secondary school because they can’t sacrifice the money. In some cases, an extended family will save their money to send one of the many the children from that to school. And only a fraction of those who make it to secondary school will make it to the university level, which is $1,500 per year. None of those students can afford to pay a university tuition, and are completely dependent on sponsorship to go to university. I will never complain about school again.
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| Morgan and Burt and the secondary student sponsored by their family |
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| Morgan and her dad teach about airplanes and rockets |
Our main project while we were in Kenya was teaching in the in the primary schools. My dad and I taught the seventh and eighth graders about airplanes and rockets. We showed them how to make paper airplanes, and they were amazed. We brought a simple rocket launcher and a rocket, and they we so excited! Everyone would gather in a circle, count down from ten, yell BLASTOFF and everyone would scream as the rocket flew into the air. Not only did the whole school come to watch, but also all the teachers would gather around. We went from shooting into the sky, to shooting their headmaster in the behind. I was amazed at the things they knew, and didn’t know. They knew the whole solar system by heart, but couldn’t make simple folds in a paper.
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| A student prepares to launch the rocket |
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| The rocket takes a different trajectory |
Words cannot describe the experiences I have had, before I had seen pictures and heard about it, but you have no idea what it is like unless you experience it first hand. In the words of Anthony Yama, “You have no idea.”
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