Hot Sun Foundation- whoa mama. My supervisor quit and I was given the honor of filling her position. This means I now work anywhere from 12 to 15 hours 6 days a week and I loooove every minute of it. Sarcasm. I really do enjoy the work, but it's difficult playing catch up for a competition that is now just 3 days away. When I officially started last week we had no venues, a fucked up budget, no judges, 17 groups when there were only supposed to be 6 and trainers who were demanding more than their share of money. After sorting everything out I get to work and know what needs to be done, but HSF is also shooting a film so the 6 people I used to oversee are now on set and I'm left with one girl, Zitah, to help me. She is a huge help, fun and very kind to work with. She asked me last night if she should quit because she doesn't think she is qualified to work here. The truth is none of us at this organization are really qualified, I'm certainly not, but we learn as we go along. But I assured her that she has been a strong leader and great helper to me and without her I would be lost, after saying that she was back to her usual happy self. Our first performance is this Saturday and we have another one on Sunday. I'm anxious to watch the groups perform. I've been to rehearsals and there is room for improvement, but watching the kids get up there and do their raps or choral verses is so great.
Nyumbani (home): All quiet on the western front. Things at home are great. I went to my mama's motherland, Meru, a few weeks back and met her mother and father. Her mama is this old as hell, full of gusto woman with no front teeth and every 5 minutes my mama asks, "where did your teeth go mama?" Her dad just sits there while his hunched over wife races around gathering sticks, fetching water, cooking and waiting on him. It's frustrating to watch, but that's how it is in the country and with people of that generation. Think about your grandparents- chances are your grandma does more at home than your grandpa. In Meru we attended a Harambe, which means come together, and is a fundraiser. We raised over 1 million Kenyan Shillings, which is over $12,000 for the school my mama used to attend. It was fun and the MC called to me asking if I could make a foreign investment- I happily obliged. Then another weekend I went to a funeral, which was very eye opening. The niece of the man who had died did not believe he was dead and demanded to open the casket. She was pushed away and started to hysterically cry and then she started convulsing on the ground. A few other women dropped to the ground with sadness at the funeral. People just go crazy and cry for 1 or 2 days and then they move on. The past is the past and you can not dwell on the deceased.
Queer Life: Me and Jake had been following a blog called Rants and Raves of a Gay Kenyan before we came. We contacted the blogger, named Peter and met up with him. After getting a drink with him on a Thursday he then took us out on a Friday treating us to dinner, drinks and a night of clubbing. We had so much fun and have many stories. My best one is a married man tried taking me to a hotel. For two hours he kept me captivated with flattering words and tempting invitations, but the ring on his finger was a bit distracting. He wanted to go to the country for the weekend and stay at a hotel, but I declined much to his dismay. People are soooo forward here and the things he was saying made me a bit dizzy and I could not stop laughing (After reading that it sounds like he ropphied me, don't worry that didn't happen). Jake and I are supposed to go out with Peter again, so hopefully we'll have another exciting outing and I will bring back more stories.
Until then nimejitoya (peace out)!
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