International Women’s day in Nairobi- Spent in a different but inspiring way this year.

I accidentally found out about a campaign called ‘Panties with a purpose’. I happened to be at Ned and Hana’s school coffee shop (yes, we have a parents’ coffee shop at school) when a very sweet mum walked in and handed my friends and I, small leaflets for a fund raising campaign. Her name is Zarah and she is one of three sisters living in Nairobi, UK and Canada. Having grown up in Kenya, they thought of raising awareness about difficulties girls from poor backgrounds face during their menstrual cycle. Because these girls are so poor, for most of them, something as basic as sanitary pads during their cycle are not affordable, hence they miss 4 to 5 days of school every month.

This phenomenon touched a soft spot. I remember the days before the sanitary pads made it in Albania, cotton and muslin squares were used instead. I remember hearing the noise of plastic crackling when some women would be walking in the street… mmm… it must be that time of the month, I would think. To avoid the embarrassment of coloration on dresses women had to wear some sort of ‘waterproof’ material on ‘heavy days’ and only plastic sheets (sawn by hand on normal panties) were available. I suppose it was equally embarrassing to make those unusual noises, but what was the lesser embarrassment!!!

I remember when I got my first period and my mum showed me the ‘hiding place’ in the bathroom where the muslin squares would be ‘stored’ with layers of soap for a few days till the stains would come out (no bleaching available in the market back then) Then boiling and disinfecting would take place till the ‘rugs would be as white as snow’ as the saying used to go. Of course when we would hang the washing out in the balcony ‘these particular items’ would be hanged on the last line not to be seen, to avoid embarrassment from neighbors, cousins visiting or even people walking on the street…

These three sisters, Zarah, Neemah and Farah, with their good will and passion managed to reach 6,000 girls through volunteers’ donations around the world. They found a local dealer who would match every four pair of panties donated, with a year’s supply of sanitary pads. The supplies will be administered by the schools the girls attend so the donation wouldn’t end up for sale in the market as these girls live in pretty dire conditions and the temptation of selling them when there is no food for the family would only be justified.

In order to celebrate and to be in tune with Google’s campaign to Join Women on a Bridge on the Centenary of International Women’s Day, the three sisters had the idea of a symbolic ‘Bridge of Hope’ where an event was held at the Mathare Community Center. Mathare is one of the biggest slums in Kenya which doesn’t get as much publicity as Kibera, another infamous slum.

As we were driven to the Community Center rows of shacks not bigger than two by two square meters seemed to never end. As I realized we had reached Mathare, I couldn’t help but think about ‘women’s lack of privacy and dignity’ and what they must endure…

On a bright note, the event was fantastic. Inspiring guests and volunteers who donated were invited to join the boys and girls from the Mathare Community Outreach School. There were speeches and entertainment. Amongst others, a  successful Kenyan poet recited a poem called ‘Keep Busy ‘ which invited the children to look at themselves as Stars in the sky with their own little piece of land to shine upon and not be a cloud of rain to be pushed around by the wind. She told them to stand straight and tall like a giraffe and not see themselves as the sand in the beach to be trodden by feet. She told them to roar like lions in everything they do and believe…

At the end three school girls sang a most beautiful uplifting song, with their voices coming from their hearts… one would think they had been trained by top musicians. That gave me and other guests HOPE and a few tears in our eyes.

Reflections on ‘my’ new country Kenya.

When one moves from one country to another that is not your home, inevitably the former becomes your point of reference and comparison; it’s what you have left behind!

I have figured that after the move (from Bangkok in my case), you feel the loss and go through slightly similar stages to mourning. Without being so traumatized fortunately somehow you go through stages of resisting, surrender, accepting the new situation and looking forward to enjoying what the future brings and most probably accept that there is a lot of learning ahead of you.

I may have almost reached the last stage… it’s been 6 and a  half months here and in the streets I don’t notice the electric fences anymore, I notice the different color flowers. I have made friends and some good ones too. I have traded the joys of Bangkok street markets with the jokes in Italian language of the assistant in the vegetable shop. He thinks I’m Italian and speaks his 20 words in Italian with a perfect accent. Today he tested me on onion and apples. For now my beautiful Bangkok PE School has been swapped with a school for Street Kids where every bit of my time and knowledge is appreciated. I go there twice a week and help the little kids get ready for the formal schools. Without this ‘jumpstart’ they won’t fit in the mainstream schools where a certain level of English and reading and writing is expected and they would very easily get back on the street… so going back to today, one of my usual days…

It started with dropping Ben at work first on the way to kids’ school. I have started helping at Hana’s kindergarten twice a week and today we sat at the reading corner and read quite a few books. Hana’s teacher is very Happy that Hana doesn’t need my ‘special attention’, she is used to share mommy with her friends.  I learned that there are a lot of camels in Elnathan’s country, Eritrea J

Back in the car I headed for the British Council where I signed up for ‘another’ test IELTS, and was assisted by a lovely girl who was very efficient and wished me ‘the loveliest day’. It did put a smile on my face.

 Ben and I started Kiswahili lessons last week and today was the second lesson… too early to comment on it, for now it’s overwhelming and let’s hope we stick with it. Hana rushed at her ballet lesson after school and the teacher calls her Hana Darling J. Kids are VERY happy at school.  Yesterday at the swimming Gala, Ned participated on 4 races and won two (hooray for Bangkok and khun Ake). By the end of it I thought Ned would drown, it was quite exhausting, but he managed.

As the bumper on the side of the car had the screw off and started to dangle, I thought I would go to the Shell petrol station very near our home and see if I could get it fixed. The only guy available was the one who I have noticed likes to get money out of mzungus (non Kenyans) at every chance he gets. He offered to change my oil, one week after the car had been serviced, and so on… Today I asked if he could have a look at the bumper so he asked if I had a screwdriver for him to tighten the bumper. I told him I need it fixed properly and as he can see only a screw driver won’t do. Ok, he says, so you need a mechanic. He whistles and brings over a mechanic who tells me that he checked the side of the car (he had to literally put the head on the floor to see what the problem was). He brings four ‘used clips’ and shows me what he is going to use, works on it for a few minutes and tells me it’s fixed. For some reason I decided to examine, I put my head on the floor too, only to see that he had used nothing and had tried to put the bumper back in place by pushing it in… he wasn’t pleased that I discovered his trick…I drove back home thinking: I started the morning with a ‘have the loveliest day’ wish and will have to end it with a HAKUNA MATATA…