3.31.14

If you’ve been following my blog for a while, you might remember my post “I love you through and through” which was a reflection on the beauty of this land after a long motorcycle ride far out of town with my favorite driver, Victor. I still use him regularly and he still spoils me. A couple weeks ago, I had him take me out of town to meet Elizabeth for something. While we were waiting, he took me for another mini cruise. We just so happened to be in the village he went to school in from age 6-15, roughly. He took me around, showed me his former schools, where he lived with his Uncle while school was in session, and explained to me some Maasai vocabulary, traditions, and his experiences as a kid. His English is perfect so learning from him is easy. That day, I fell in love with Tanzania again. Today, I fell in love once more.

The rainy season has begun and in almost no time, things have gone from brown and dry to green and full, and I just got back from another long ride out of town with Victor. He took me to my project the same way as usual, right through town. Once we got out of town, we were going through fields of wet soil being plowed. It sounds pretty regular and less than thrilling when I write about it, but let me see if I can paint a better picture. We turned off the tarmac onto the dirt road, dodging puddles left and right. To my right are mud huts, bomas with cattle, locals sitting on the ground passing a sachet of the local alcohol between one another. To my left, vast fields as far as we can see. The dark soil has been plowed by the tractor in the distance, and in line with the tractor are men and women in their colorful garments, small buckets in one hand, dropping seeds with the other. Bordering these fields are trees and green as can be, and against the near black soil, it makes for a beautiful sight. In the backdrop, Mount Meru, playing shy today and hiding behind the clouds. The visual is incredible but what really seals the deal is the culture. The simplicity of the lives these people lead constantly leaves me in awe. Every few seconds a group of kids, some with no shoes, in tattered clothes holding sticks runs out to the street to say hi to the passing white person. This is my sight the whole way to the project, with some shrub fences protecting a little “neighborhood” of Maasai [k1] mud huts, or the occasional brick house. I love those ten minutes to the project from the main road and every time I go out there, I’m reminded why I love being here and why I chose that piece of land. I can take all the pictures I want, but it will never do this beauty justice.

I told Victor how much I love being out of town, so he took me on another “off the map” route back home. I don’t know how to describe the trip home, but it was beautiful. There were a couple times I wasn’t so sure we would get out of that spot, but we always did…even if I had to get off the bike and meet him where the rocks stopped or top of the hill. We weren’t on roads, just navigating through bush and forest, then through a shallow creek and up a dusty hill where we found a road and eventually made it back to the tarmac and eventually into town. You know, exactly the situation you would be cautioned about…a girl with a dead phone on the back of a motorcycle with some guy, quite literally in the middle of nowhere. Sorry parents! (not that sorry though)

Days like this motivate me to keep pushing through this foggy time. I love the people, the land and the culture and I can’t believe I almost let one “snake in the grass” take this all away from me. It brings me back to a song by one of my favorites, Ben Sollee…

When love comes, will you release the rain?

Will you change the world to the song you sang?

Or when the smoke clears, will your hope remain,

To make some peace on this land you claim?

 

3.30.15

I thought that when this ended, I was fine. I came out on top, Hill Crest belongs to me. The project belongs to me. The company belongs to me. How could I be sad about any of this? How could I not be okay? It is becoming increasingly clear to me that I have a long road to recovery ahead of me. I even dyed my hair because it was the only thing I felt I had control over. I love it, but that was very out of character for me. I’m trying to regain control now and move forward!

I can’t believe anything anyone says. I’m just waiting to find out who the next “Isaac” will be, because if he could do such awful things, somebody else will too… right? The hardest part of it is that he wasn’t just awful to me. On top of the many other former volunteers, his wife has suffered more than I could ever imagine. Elizabeth is now my co-director but also my friend and mama. Two weeks ago, we were having tea together. Relationships came up in our conversation. We talked about my first boyfriend in Tanzania and how much she hated him. She asked me about the last guy I was seeing, and when I reminded her that his name was Isack, we had a good laugh. It seemed like that opened her up, as if that brought us closer somehow. The entire day from that moment on, we were laughing and talking and loving that we were brought together by this wild and crazy world. We bought a bag of maize that was too heavy for both of us to carry and a ten minute walk back to school took 45 minutes, and we were laughing all the way. She was happier than I’ve seen her, even since my first trip in 2012. She was laughing from her gut, allowing herself to release the joy she was feeling. She has told me several times since we began working together that she knew I would be the one to save her. Since last January, she has been waiting for God to bring her out of the situation she was in, and she saw it in me. She was hoping I would see the truth, and we all know I did. And that’s why she is a happier and stronger woman than I’ve witnessed before. Don’t get me wrong, her marriage was okay until January 2014, but it went downhill quickly from there. Now we get to recover together, from very different situations, but together nonetheless.

This month we get to focus on fixing things at school. Checking the curriculum and adjusting it, seeing where we can improve. We will also continue to have a handful of kids come in daily for lunch. There are two returning volunteers I talk to regularly who contribute financially while they are away. They have been an incredible support system to not just me but Elizabeth also. They have encouraged her to be independent and find her inner strength. Judi, one of the volunteers, encouraged her to go to an empowerment seminar in town, but Elizabeth wants to hold her own. I’m hoping we can arrange for her to go to one before we hold one in the village so we have a better idea about how to go about it. Judi and Catriona have been incredible help and support to us and we are both so thankful. It is their support that I know will pull Elizabeth through, and will help me also. Weekly, we Skype and set up a plan which helps me stay organized and on task because my brain is constantly being pulled in so many different directions! Judi and Catriona also Skype and talk to Elizabeth individually, so as I’ve said, they have played a vital role in our recovery.

Rainy season is here so I have to go find some ratty old converses at the second hand market soon! Getting to school and the project will be real tasks as well. The mud makes things difficult but not impossible. And if anything, just that much more interesting. We are still trying to figure out the best thing to do for Riziki, our student who is on the streets, but it is hard. She has a dad but he doesn’t take care of her. I would like to find someone to take her in, but there is no telling if she will get treated any better if we just place her with another family. We need to figure it out soon though.

I’m off to the project, we have the floors in in three rooms and my workers are ordering more materials as I write this. I will meet them at the jobsite in time for the delivery of more cement and sand! I can’t believe we have floors! Keep sending your prayers and positive vibes this way as we continue to move forward with school and the project J

Just as I began to reread this, I got a text from Elizabeth telling me she just found out that Noella’s dad has been in the hospital since last week suffering from HIV. Amazing how things can change in the blink of an eye. We will figure out what we can do for her dad in addition to feeding the kids. Happy Monday..right?

3.21.15

 

Mama Alice is cleaning the house right now and I am so pleased. She speaks a little bit of English, I speak a little bit of Swahili, so communicating what I want and what she needs is like a game. But I have my Swahili dictionary on the table to fill in the gaps!

I thought I should do an update on here about what we have accomplished since Elizabeth and I took over. Some of this may be redundant if you’ve seen all of my posts on Facebook, but I know some of it will be new!

I’m not sure exactly the date I took over, legally, but we have made some big moves. The first thing Elizabeth wanted handled was our oldest class, Class 1, a primary level class. We had around 20 kids in the class, but Hill Crest was not fit to teach them, as we are a Pre Primary School. Apparently Isaac was keeping them so that when the project finished, we could move them there. We never agreed to change our boarding pre primary school to a day primary school, but that’s what he told the parents of these kids. Elizabeth’s main source of stress was having these older kids. We both knew the teacher was terrible, so I moved quickly and found Maasai Joy, a small Primary school in the hills of Ngaramtoni. The kids got sponsored so we moved them there and fired the teacher, who we found out was not a teacher… just someone Isaac met on the street. Good one, Isaac. Now the kids are at Maasai Joy and doing so well! We miss them at Hill Crest but they needed to be shifted, for their own benefit!

Around Christmas, a girl with club feet was dropped next to Hill Crest to stay with the neighboring family who happens to be the family of a Hill Crest student. We invited Cadogo into school and enrolled her. She was measured for a uniform and a visiting volunteer bought her two beautiful dresses, as it didn’t seem she had anything. With Isaac gone, it was my chance to do something! So I went to a clinic/school/therapy/pre-op house for kids with burns, club foot, benign tumors, etc. It’s a beautiful facility called Plaster House. The Founder explained the process and said she would take Cadogo and get her ready for surgery in either April/May or August/September. I don’t remember the exact details from that conversation anymore! They would start preparing her bones for the surgery by casting her several weeks before, and the surgeons are European volunteers so it technically wouldn’t cost anything, but if the family/caregiver/guardian is able, they appreciate 100,000 Shilling donations (approximately $54). Of course, I accepted and waited for them to call and tell me when to move her into Plaster House! During this time, her mom and siblings came back and moved into a vacant mud hut next to the school. When we took Cadogo to Plaster House, the founder said that she was a “wicked case.” They are confident her feet can be fixed, but it is going to be a long and painful surgery and recovery.

Word of Cadogo got back to the US through Judi Davis, a former volunteer, major Hill Crest supporter, and founder of Sunflower Kids (her NGO that raises and sends money for food at Hill Crest). A 10 year old boy heard Cadogo’s story and started making and selling bracelets to fundraise for her surgery, shoes, and for Mama Cadogo to go visit her. He’s so excited about it and has raised $200 for her! That definitely pays for her surgery and first pair of shoes, and I will hold onto the remaining and make arrangements for her mom to go visit her for as long as possible while she is recovering. Taxis are expensive and Cadogo has a long journey ahead so I’m hoping Colter can keep his spirit up and keep raising money for her! It will be nice for both mother and daughter to have each other’s support during this process. Her next step is casting, so that’s when we I will start arranging to take her mom, or send her with my motorcycle driver.

The next thing I handled was Noella. We have lost a handful of the kids I started with in 2012, they moved or their parents split and one of the parents took them. I don’t remember when Noella stopped coming to school, but something inside me never stopped asking about her. Maybe it was because her house was right on the way to hill crest so she was easy to think about, but anytime I asked Isaac he just brushed it off with her parents shifted, he was not sure. I asked him at least ten times over time and always settled because Isaac likes to talk, and most days I just couldn’t fathom asking a question that could make him talk for another unnecessary 30 minutes. I settled when I should not have, and I am so angry at myself for that. One day as Elizabeth and I were going to take care of a personal issue, we passed where Noella was living and I asked Elizabeth where the family went. She turned around immediately and started asking the neighbors questions. That was when we found out that her parents divorced and her mom took the three kids, then her dad took them, then their grandparents got them, then their aunt, then their dad took them back again. The dad and stepmom don’t take care of the kids which is why they were being taken by the other family members. We met with the Aunt, who is living in the house they used to live in, and she told us how serious their situation was. We told her to call their dad and tell him to prepare their things because they would be moving back with their Aunt until we figure out the best thing to do for them.

Elizabeth and I went on to deal with this issue, and the next morning Noella and her sister were in school. Before I got there, Elizabeth texted me and told me that I would cry when I see them, and she was right. Noella was skin and bones, her face thinned out and that beaming smile was missing. Her young sister, Angel, jumped into my arms and clung her little arms around my neck and would not let go. Her cheek was pressed against mine as she held me. My heart broke and I was reduced to tears at the sight of them. On my way to school, Angel used to meet me on the street, running to me with her shoes on the wrong feet, a shirt that was way too big, and a huge smile and giggle as she yelled “teacher! Teacher! Teacher!” the whole way between her and me. I always scooped her up, gave her a big hug, then continued my walk to school. Noella was always one of my favorite students, probably because she always wanted so much love. She also did this cute thing with her mouth anytime she spoke English, pursing her lips as far out as they would go. And for being so cute and gentle, she was also vicious. I always adored her. I couldn’t believe the two girls I was seeing were Angel and Noella. Elizabeth and I bought food for her Aunt, who has three kids of her own plus the three she just took in, so it was necessary. That’s when I turned to Facebook, desperate for help for these kids. I’m so thankful for the $575 that was raised for them, it is going to go so far. We will be able to buy so much food over the next several months and we will also go to the market to get all six of the kids clothes, and something special for Aunty Noella also. She deserves it.

That's it for this time, check back Monday or Tuesday!

3.18.15

I have decided to start using this in more of a diary format from here on out instead of sweeping updates. It’s a much less daunting task if I just do this every other day instead of trying to hit every big point in one post every few weeks.

Monday day was nice. Things are finally starting to seem normal again at school as things are calming down and coming together. I met Elizabeth on the road to school at Noella’s Aunt’s house. (If you don’t know the story behind Noella, go back to my facebook and scroll down! There is a status from a couple weeks ago). She needed more food so off we went. Thanks to so many generous donations, we were able to get them enough food for at least 3 weeks! And we will be able to keep doing this for at least 8 months, though I hope longer. We dropped off the food and went back to school. I did some dishes and some budgeting/accounting then went to a meeting after school. On my way to the meeting, Auntie Noella stopped me and gave me two bananas, an amazingly beautiful gesture of appreciation that I should have remembered later that night.

Monday night I got so frustrated with things and people here that I cried for about three hours. I should be used to people seeing me as money, but I’m not. I can’t wrap my head around people just assuming I have money all the time because I’m white. What people don’t realize is that since “the incident” I have gone without lunch or dinner at least 15 times and owe my motorcycle driver money because he was constantly sending me phone credit because I couldn’t afford it. Monday night, I got two texts that just sent me over the edge. I texted my friend asking if I look like an ATM machine, because that is what I felt like. I guess their excuse is that neither of the people that texted me are directly related to Hill Crest but they both knew everything that happened… and after everything that happened and how much money I spent recovering hill crest, why don’t people understand that I don’t have a bunch of cash just lying around? Do these people have no appreciation for me and how willingly I forked up every penny of my savings to keep things together for the kids? Nope. Not a bit. And that really hurt my feelings and made me livid. I even texted my dad, fuming and sobbing, a message with the big fat F bomb in it before I finally took enough Melatonin to knock me out for at least 12 hours. I turned my phone off, fell asleep, woke up, took a shower and read an entire book before I turned my phone on again. Tuesday was a ‘me’ day and I deserved it. I also realized that if something is going to be done and done properly, I have to do it. Another frustration I’m facing daily but I can only take on so much, so I’m choosing my battles.

Today I met a friend of Isaac’s who is a contact for the sponsor of one of our students, Alice. When he heard about what was going on with Isaac, he contacted Elizabeth who put him in contact with me. The sponsor was contacted and didn’t send any more money. Nobody knew that Alice was already sponsored until I held a parents meeting for our older kids who needed to move to Primary school. Gregory, the contact, met me today and explained to me that they agreed for Alice to be sponsored at Hill Crest for $250/term-$750/year. Outrageous. Gregory spoke to Isaac and said that because of the high school fee, Isaac needed to give some of that back to her family to help them. Then Gregory told me about what a bad situation Alice’s family was in. He also said that Isaac evaded giving the family any of the money the sponsor sent. Gregory gave me the sponsor’s phone number and I will be in touch with him. I asked him to take me to Alice’s house, so off we went. We were met by Mama Alice at the water well on the street, where she was having a big cup of tap water. Then she took us to her home, a mud hut which is falling apart at the seams. It is two rooms with one bed in each, the whole house approximately 10’x12’ give or take a bit. I asked who lived there. To Alice, her Grandma and Grandpa, mom and sister, two Aunts, one Uncle and three cousins. Alice’s dad died last year. Only the Grandma works, and they are suffering. The only security they have is knowing the Grandma’s job is permanent.

So I told Gregory to ask Mama Alice if she would like to come and clean my house and wash my clothes four times a week, maybe even cook for me sometimes. She agreed and will start tomorrow. What we still have to settle is her sponsorship. Now Alice has two sponsors, something that needs to be fixed. So ill be working on that situation this week and hopefully resolve it and have another post about it in the coming week or so.

The Class 1 students we got sponsored and moved to Maasai Joy got their new uniforms today. I’m so excited to go and see them tomorrow! Maybe I will just meet them at the bus stop in the morning again, it’s the best way to start a day!

Don’t forget about the trip in June. Two weeks in Tanzania at Hill Crest and a safari?! How could you pass that up ;) Email me for the itinerary! Katherine@hillcrestpreprimary.com

Rocked.

My world was rocked almost two months ago when everything I knew and trusted about (former) Hill Crest director, Isaac, came crashing down right in front of me. When we bought the lumber for the roof of the project in October, he lied to me about the payment and payment agreement. So on January 14^th, I found myself at the lumber yard surrounded by angry employees, abandoned by him, locked in an office, almost arrested and forced to sign a contract. I was crying and shaking so badly I could hardly use my phone. I was humiliated that Isaac was the reason for all of this so I didn’t want to call anyone and tell them what was happening. Thankfully, the police officer that arrived recognized that he could not arrest me and gave me a ride. It was then that I called my former housemate and best friend in Arusha, Hans, and met him at our friends’ house where I sobbed into him for a few minutes before telling him everything that happened. He said it was all a setup, as did everyone else I told over the next few weeks. If you know me, you know how hard it is for me to cry in front of people. The fact that I melted into Hans and then six of my other friends should tell you how absolutely traumatized I was by what happened.

If those boys had not received me and comforted me the way they did, I would have gotten on a plane home that night and not looked back. I would be home saying, “yeah it was a good two years.” I would be getting back on society’s assembly line. I would be looking into going back to school this summer, getting a job, and hoping to create the white picket fence life in a couple of years. I would be returning to false happiness. I was so close to losing everything I love. I was about to go back to the life I was so miserable in because I knew there was no way to recover my relationship with Isaac after what he did that morning, which meant my time at Hill Crest was over also. It isn’t easy being betrayed in a foreign country by the first person who is supposed to take care of you. I spent three days cooped up in my apartment before I gathered the courage to tell the three people who needed to know; my mom, dad, and Bernard, the American who “adopted” the construction of the project shortly after we bought the lumber in October. I met Bernard in a café in town, crying as I told him. Before I finished, he was calling his people to get things taken care of. That night I had to tell my parents. I went through a strange range of emotions. Would they be disappointed in me? Or mad, or make me go home…would they stop trusting my judgment, would they regret sending me here? How could I tell them what happened? For some reason, I thought they would be disappointed in me. They weren’t. For those few days, I was realizing everything I thought I lost. I would not be welcomed at Hill Crest again; I lost my kids. I couldn’t imagine facing Isaac again; I lost him. His wife had become my mama, my sister, my friend, my rock and root; I lost Elizabeth. Two days prior, I moved into an apartment far away from my friends and close to Hill Crest, now a mistake. I was scared to pass the lumber yard on my way to town. I was relieved nobody knew yet where my new apartment was, at least Isaac wouldn’t show up on my doorstep with the police. That was the only sense of relief I felt for a long time.

I also thought I was going to lose the project but then I heard that Isaac said he would keep things peaceful and stay away from the project. The next day, he changed and said he was going to fight. That’s when Bernard called in the “big dogs” and my dad flew in. Isaac didn’t know what a mistake he made by making things vicious. The people that came to my side are powerful and Isaac had no grounds to stand on. It came out that he was here illegally since 2008. Hill Crest was not a registered school. He was probably planning on taking the project for himself when it was done. He told the court that I was stealing project money and spending it on boys at the clubs. He tried to say that the money for the project didn’t even come through me. He made a fool of himself and ruined his chances of winning the fight. Over the six days that my dad was in town, we were in a hearing and then had meetings with some of the most powerful people in Arusha. They asked me what I wanted to happen to Isaac, and at that point I just wanted to scare him. I wanted him to know that I wasn’t messing around anymore and that he had better not come near me or the project, but I needed assurance that his wife and kids would be taken care of. I was in complete denial that his wife knew about anything he had done over the last two years; partly because I know my heart just wouldn’t have been able to handle betrayal by Elizabeth, partly because I genuinely believed she knew nothing.

Over time, the truth unfolded and my respect for Isaac diminished. His life was being revealed and it was horrifying. Everything I knew about him was a lie and the truth was disgusting. He is a coward and a pathetic excuse for a man. Now, even Elizabeth thinks every word that came out of his mouth was a lie. I know that because, as I suspected, she knew nothing.

After two weeks, we came up with an agreement that put me on top and let him walk away. I would get the project and Hill Crest, he would not get arrested or deported. He refused to sign and walked out of that meeting on February 3^rd and that was the last we have seen or heard from him. Because he is Kenyan, we realized later that he did not even need to sign the agreement. Elizabeth, as a Tanzanian, was the one that needed to sign. She did.

The trouble that Isaac tried to get me into ultimately ended with me as director of Hill Crest, owner of the project, and now a CEO of a company that I just registered in Tanzania. I am also being given land to develop into a community project through my company. Isaac gets to live in hiding. He knows the police are looking for him, and when he is found he will face the law. Sure, he left us in debt and I spent all of my savings recovering Hill Crest, but I can find more money. I would never be able to replace my kids, my relationships, or my life here.

I’m thankful for everything he put me through. It’s still a very open wound and writing this has been a challenge, but I would never have known the strength I possess. I’ve learned to fight, to stand up for myself, and to defend the kids. The passive person that I was for 23 years is gone and I welcome challenges now. Elizabeth and I are working hard to restore the integrity of Hill Crest and turn it back into the school it was before Isaac chased her away and lied to me about everything. We have a lot of work to do and it is going to be a long road to recovery, but it will happen. Nobody is going to stop me now. I would like to see someone try.