“… the power of “no”, the power of “yes”, and the power to speak up.” Daraja Through Olivia’s Eyes
I cannot say enough good things about the AMAZING young woman who wrote the following blog from the Daraja Academy campus. Her last blog was written as she evacuated her London School of Economics dorm-room en route to Kenya. She certainly is there now, and I wouldn’t even try to count the number of elated “info-blasts” my wife Jenni has sent me from Nanyuki describing her accomplishments and aptitude. Below, she shares one of the most insightful perspectives of the school and its students than I have yet to hear. I sincerely know that Daraja Academy is a better school because Olivia Capra is there. – Jason Doherty
Habari! These three weeks have flown by as I have tried desperately to savor each remarkable African sunrise and sunset; each day I find myself wishing my stay here would be six months instead of six weeks. I’ve also come to the consensus that Daraja Academy plagues you with a sort of “reverse writers block” where you have so many words and emotions swirling around in your head, so much you want to describe to those back home, that you don’t know where to start. Hence, my excuse for why I have waited three weeks to write my next blog. Pole sana, (very sorry)
My first day was everything I expected… for the first thirty minutes. Breakfast consisted of awkward glances at the new volunteer, and I stared into my porridge thinking “come on Olivia, when have you ever been shy, start talking!” As soon as Jenni introduced me to the girls, they all turned to acknowledge me, and then started cheering and clapping when she announced I would be here for six weeks. It was beyond the warmest welcome I could have envisioned, even though on the inside I was thinking “I hope they still feel this way in six weeks!”
Since that first day, it has been nothing but warm welcomes. Whether in Daraja or downtown Nanyuki, there is this aura of openness and invitation to any visitors and anyone will smile and wave, even the Masaii herding cattle on the side of the road. Where else can you see an interaction between extreme cultures without any remnant of hostility or ulterior motives? There has also been some funny interactions, like when Jenni, Kayla, and I were driving through Nairobi, and managed to bribe our way out of the routine police check points with a bag of candy we had just purchased. Or yesterday I had to move Mad Cow, the female cow, out of the way so I could get into my house. I don’t do that everyday in London!
Each day I am with the girls when they are not in class, teaching women’s empowerment and meeting in small, intimate settings. I have begun to create a picture of what it is like growing up in East Africa as a fifteen/sixteen year old. I spent my time preparing for this trip this past year comparing the U.S. to Kenya, affluent to the destitute, and now I see you can not draw those stratified lines easily. Here the innate way the girls speak to each other is unique, they do not exclude or separate, they know their tribal differences and religious segregations but to them this is no reason to divide. In group they show an unconditional love for one another by laughing and talking with whoever is in the chair next to them, and as they roam about their duties on the weekends you never see the same two girls together for very long. Unification comes easy.
Sharing, however, does not. Friendship to us back home in the Bay Area means you share your heart, as a close friend you are expected to share your feelings, and I am sure it would take hours if one were to flip through the yellow pages under “Psychologist”. Here there is a silence, an underlying knowledge that to share too much is to be weak, to show emotion takes away the strength you exude. The battles they have fought in childhood are rare among even the old and wise in developed countries, and while it has molded them into driven, hopeful young women, it has also carved a harder shell in which I am finding it hard to break. Silence should not be the only option. It has become the reason women are “second class citizens” in Kenya, the reason inequality of opportunity and treatment is darkened and defined over and over. My hope is that these 26 women learn the power of “no”, the power of “yes”, and the power to speak up and find their voice.
Daraja is developing fast and finding a careful balance between teaching and preserving tradition and initiative. It is not a “U.S.” school located outside Nanyuki, it is a Kenyan school full of builders and teachers who have fought their battles as well and stayed in their homeland to invest in the youth of this generation. They are a perpetual encouragement for the girls to be prideful of their roots, and to dream big. My time with the teachers has been an extreme learning opportunity for me, as I look at Kenya as an infrastructure I am studying to develop, they help complete this vision by sharing the cultural challenges and responses.
As my days here continue the world from my eyes has ceased to be black and white. While the obvious states my life has been filled with perpetual opportunity, support, and resources, and theirs intertwined with battles and poverty, the right answer no longer lies within the “esteemed” red, white, and blue. For where I am weak, they are strong, where I find joy in certain things, they know it is a conscious choice to live their life in joy. Where I find faith in my country because it’s Obama standing at the podium, they raise their flag every Monday morning in song and prayer because they find faith in Kenya, the country. They are not oblivious to what it lacks, to how it has failed them or challenged them as girls trying to become women, they simply choose to spend their energy on cherishing the hope that exists. As we star gaze in our nighttime small groups, the girls often share with me their dreams of seeing the U.S., Great Britain, and many countries whose existence to them merely lies in their history textbooks. Contrary to what we might think as proud Americans, these girls yearn to travel but do not want to call these countries their home. To them, there is only one place that will be home, one place that will let them praise God loudly, sing and dance the traditions their tribe passed on to them, and give them the abundant opportunity to use their education and passions.
Next week, we are having a birthday party for all the girls whose birthdays have taken place in the term so far, complete with decorations, party hats, cake, and possibly a few games of “Honey I love you, will you please please smile?”- which they love! Hopefully Andy will grace us with his opera voice again, and the girls won’t go into a 5 minute giggling fit at the sight of my dance moves this time! We are also working on reforming study hall, WISH classes, and I am starting to understand the details behind the development side of Daraja, and how fundamental water sourcing is. It is an exciting place to be, Daraja Academy, I feel so fortunate to be here, and I will write again next week and let you know how everything is going!
Kwaheri!
Olivia
Tags: Andy, Jenni Doherty, Kayla, Mad Cow, Olivia Capra
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Comments (4) :
Jun 30th, 2009
June 30th, 2009 at 8:39 AM
Wow, that was incredibly fun to read – insightful and filled with the pride and hope that is Kenya today.
Dennis
July 1st, 2009 at 10:55 AM
This is the first time I have EVER commented on this site, but I am just SO amazed at the rumination of thought that went into this post. Olivia, you clearly (!) observed and reflected on all that you saw before you jumped to conclusions. If only this were true for all of us, I believe the world would be a much better place.
J.R.D. – Founder in Exile
July 5th, 2009 at 11:46 AM
That was a wonderfull read.
Thank you.
January 5th, 2010 at 12:07 PM
As a first generation American, with family roots in Sierra Leone West Africa, I truly appreciate the thoughtful depth of this investment you have made. I work with your father and was moved by the decision you made for such a mutually edifying opportunity.