Amagoro Primary School

Amagoro Primary School has 840 students and 18 teachers. The building is condemned, the windows in the 2nd and 3rd grade buildings are missing, and the students wear tattered blue and white school uniforms. The poverty is ever-present and intractable. Steps away from the school sits an empty magnificent government building, built by a provincial governor as a monument to his power--it was never used and sits abandoned. I heard that it cannot be used because provincial men still argue about who has authority over the building. So as it lays abandoned, several feet away 840 students ramble over the broken and uneven terrain to sit 5 or 6 children to a desk. It was at Amagoro that I met an extraordinary young girl named Millicent. Millicent is 13-years-old and in the 7th grade. She is as small as an average 4th grader, and wears a uniform with a tear that runs from her left armhole to her belt. Millicent is a natural teacher and leader. As I teach her how to use the computer and create an email account, she leans over and, in Swahili, teaches the girls to the left and right of her. Millicent wants to grow up to be a lawyer, and is the type of student that teachers in the States salivate over: bright, inquisitive and eager-to-learn.  But, it is uncertain if Millicent will even make it to the 8th grade. Her mother does not want her to go to school. Her mother is one of her father's three wives. She lives with her father and second step-mother in Amagoro and hopes that her father will let her stay in school one more year. 

When you meet a girl like Millicent on your first mission trip, your desire is to save her, take her back to America with you, adopt her, support her, keep her safe. You cry a lot, some tears for Millicent, and some for a world that would allow 840 students to cram inside a condemned building while a governmental palace lays moldering steps away. Millicent deserves a building with books, and exam books and pens and pencils. Millicent deserves her own desk. Millicent deserves to go to University and become a lawyer. Millicent deserves a future. It is said that the tragedy of Kenya is that Kenya always wins. We pour our hopes and dreams and tears and sweat into saving the Millicents of the Kenya, yet Kenya always wins. But the only way we can stave off despair and keep going is to lean hard against our small victories. Kenya may always win, but we must never stop playing.

Amagoro, Kenya

Dubai is not what you think

Dubai, UAE
August 18,2010

First of All Dubai is hot! Not arid-no-sweating hot, not bearable hot; but melting hot--tied-to-the-stake hot. At 10pm it was 91 degrees and hot, at midnight is was still really, really hot, at 3am it is still kill-me-now hot.

Once you resolve yourself to melting, Dubai is amazing! It is glittery and mega-sized. White string lights festoon everything; tree trunks, car dealerships, McDonalds. There are also an over-abundance of palm trees and multi-storied new construction projects.

But the most amazing thing about Dubai is the people. Dubai is more tolerant and multicultural than I thought. The Mall of Dubai was one of the most diverse places I've ever seen--Women in Burkas, headscarves, or bare-headed; Men in white head scarves and long ankle-length tunics, men in Polo shirts and dress pants; men in Jeans with dyed hair. They all co-exist and no one gets a second look. Yet, Dubai is definitely a muslim country--Prayer rooms in every building, a modest dress code enforced at the mall, call to prayers at set hours, but it is not uninviting or judgmental. In some ways Dubai reminded me a lot of America--moral and brightly-lit, gauche really, and maybe a little bit gaudy, but surprisingly fun.  We dipped our toes in the Persian gulf, went to the underwater hotel, and saw the world's tallest building. And, oh yes, we went to the Mall of Dubai--but didn't get to see the indoor ski slope.

Stay tuned for our next adventures in Kenya. Internet is spotty and not good for much more than text, so you will have to wait to see all our amazing pictures when we get back!


Love,

Kim

Next week, fifteen travelers are going to Amagoro, Kenya to meet our pen-pals. Our youngest traveler is 9 and our oldest is 51.