Daraja and Realizations

I haven't fully explained yet where we are staying in our time here, and what an amazing place it is. We have been staying at Daraja Academy, a secondary school for girls in Nanyuki, Kenya. Daraja means "bridge" in Swahili, and it is just that for the girls who go here. Daraja is a special school, in that it is the only one in Kenya that teaches a womens' empowerment class, WISH, which stands for Women of Integrity, Strength, and Hope. It is also a school that is inclusive of all tribes of Kenya, and values community between them. 

Each and every girl that I have met here has been so inspiring. Their resilience to struggles they have faced, their zest for learning, and their openness and joy in communication is exciting and refreshing. They work so hard, and really value everything that Daraja does for them. They are all such beautiful young leaders, and they are teaching me more than I could ever teach them.

Prior to and throughout this journey, our class has been struggling with difficult questions regarding the savior complex, culture shock, and feelings of being unable to help. Before leaving California, we had a conversation about not being a "savior" when going to work in what is usually referred to as a third-world country. As a class, we acknowledged that many American students often go to countries within Africa, do their bit to "help," take a selfie with a child and post it as their profile picture, and then come home, all the while feeling good about themselves because they, the better ones, just did their bit to save those who are so beneath them. We did not want to be those people. 

That being said, as Americans coming from Moraga, California, we did experience some culture shock. And again, as Americans coming from Moraga, California, we see things that look like problems and we immediately want to help. We see garbage burning on the streets, comparatively weak infrastructures, and less than normal-sized living spaces, and wonder why it has to be like this. We wonder why their normal isn't our normal. 

But as much as we came here to help and to work, we did not come to fix anything but ourselves, and we did not come to change anything but ourselves. Traveling is about gaining perspective and making connections, for your own personal gain. Nobody asked me to come and see what I can do for Kenya. I cannot do anything for Kenya. I will never know what it is like to be Kenyan and to have Kenyan issues. I will only ever know what it is like to be American and to have American issues. And those are the issues that I should work on. What I can do is make connections with Kenyan people, learn from them, and continue to stretch my mind, soul, and heart beyond the limits of the US border. 

And I have done just that. The community and cultural wealth that I have seen here has been overwhelming. The happiness on the faces of children waving as we pass by on the street, the joy of the Daraja girls dancing together on the weekend, the peace of story-telling by the fire, the eye-contact, the handshakes, the hugs and the laughter...this is true wealth. This is wealth that many people in the Bay Area do not possess, and will never possess. This is the real culture shock, the shock that comes from realizing that the people your neighbors think need saving are really the ones that have the power to save your neighbor, who has spent his whole day with blinders on, living in a cyber-world that is constantly picking away at any capability of human connection, any capability to really be alive. 

Enjoy these camels :)