Where do I begin in regards to the very surreal visit that I paid to Obama's paternal grandmother, Mama Sarah? I guess I should start at the beginning so that I can bore you with some of the minute details. Nah, I won't bore you but I will start with some minute details. [As an aside, if you have Google Earth, you can type in any of these locations and they will show up. In fact, when I put in Bondo, I can actually zoom in and see the hotel that I stayed in. Not all areas have enough resolution for zooming, but the town itself does.]When I was in Kenya the last time I had done a training in Kasarani near Nairobi. It was for a group of workers from the Ruaraka EPZ. EPZ's are Export Processing Zones. They are tax protected areas where industries can manufacture products quite cheaply. It's where some of the clothing for Walmart, Target, etc. come from. Working conditions are typically very poor. Here is a link to a slide show on the Ruaraka EPZ http://www.slideshare.net/davelettinga/the-lives-of-ruaraka-workers.
One of the attendees was a young man named Kevin. His home is in Bondo which is only about 10-15 miles from the home of Mama Sarah. He is back in Bondo and had invited me down to meet an HIV+ support group to do my "meet and greet." That's not a real good name for what I do, but it's not really a training either. It's more of an opportunity for me to meet a group of people either infected or affected by HIV and hold a simple discussion. The stigma here is still quite strong and so to have a mzungu actually disclose his status is very powerful.
Since I was going to be in the area, I told Kevin that I also wanted to go and visit the birth place of Obama's father. He said that would be easily arranged. I knew that it had become a bit of a tourist stop for the few people that make it to this far corner of Kenya. The area is in the Southwest corner of Kenya and lies about 10 miles inland from Lake Victoria and 20 miles from the Ugandan border. It's people are from the Luo tribe.
One does not go to visit such an important person without taking a present. Okay, maybe one does, but not this one. Even before leaving Bungoma, I talked to my friends to decide what would be an appropriate gift. I had already thought of a chicken and sugar. A chicken because animals are always good gifts and a chicken is easily transported. The sugar because the price of sugar has almost doubled recently. So, after consultations, my list got refined a bit. The sugar definitely remained but some salt was also added. The chicken was good, but I was told that it should be a big hen and should be a white hen.
I wish I could have been a bird and flown to Bondo. It is only about 50 miles as the crow flies, but at least 110 as the matatu drives. It's probably a little longer since the road is so curvy, but that's my best estimate. One travels south to Mumias, east to Kakamega, south to Kisumu and then back west to Bondo. It also means that one changes matatus a couple of times. But, none the less, I made it to Bondo in about 6 hours. Yep, that's right... 110 miles in 6 hours. I had to change matatus 3 times which means waiting between each change for the matatu to fill up. To be fair, I spent an hour in Kisumu eating, so really it was only 5 hours.
My afternoon in Bondo meant doing a little tour and also looking for a chicken. I went to meet Kevin's family who live about 4 miles into the interior. The interior means anyplace that is not really a town. I met his mother and 4 brothers, his grandfather, some uncles, a grandmother, aunts, etc. It was a big deal to have an mzungu visit them. This is something that I've never been totally comfortable with in the sense that I'm afforded a level of distinction that is not necessarily "earned."
Kevin's grandmother had a number of chickens that she was willing to sell. However, it was decided that I should not present a hen, but that it should be a rooster. So, they pointed out one of the white roosters to me and we then agreed on a price. As the rooster strutted around the yard, it appeared really huge. I was to decide the next morning that it wasn't quite so big and scary.
I woke up Wednesday morning and had breakfast and was ready to go by 8:30. Kevin's brother had caught a ride into town with the rooster in a basket. I had the sugar and salt and was ready to go. We had already arranged for a piki-piki (motorcycle) to transport us to the homestead. it's roughly 10-15 miles by dirt road to Mama Sarah's homestead.
We arrived at the gate of the compound. Because of the popularity, a Kenyan Police officer is on duty and you must present ID and sign in to the "official" visitor's book. We were a bit early since, unbeknown to us, she does not receive visitors until 10AM. We went to the sitting area under the tree where chairs are set out for visitors. The compound is certainly well kept. Her house is a permanent structure, meaning brick covered with cement. There were a number of outbuildings. It was a beehive of activity with a woman milking a cow, some sweeping the yard, etc.
At about 10, a woman came out and introduced herself as the interpreter for Mama Sarah. Mama Sarah knows very little English and prefers to speak in her native tongue of Dholuo. Kevin had at least taught me how to say hello and how are you in Dholuo. When Mama Sarah came out and I greeted her in her tongue, she chuckled, greeted me back and then commented to the interpreter that she was surprised.
There was not a lot to ask or say to Mama Sarah. Basically, I made the simple comments about how proud she must be of her grandson. I explained what I was doing in Kenya. I asked about the two quite prominent graves near the sitting area. One, which was made of white porcelain tile is Barack Sr. and the second one is the grandfather.
It was then time to present the gifts. As luck would have it, as soon as I went to hand the rooster to Mama Sarah, it pooped in my hand. Although not pleasant to discuss, I was at least grateful to find out that a rooster's poop is firm rather than watery so I just let it drop onto the ground. I found out that she spoke to her assistant about how nice and larger the rooster was and that they had recently lost many chickens to illness and so it was a great gift. A group of nine Kenyan men had arrived at the compound to visit so I said my good byes and headed off.
It's amazing to think that one can just arrive at the compound and meet with Mama Sarah. As I said, the area is fairly remote. The nearest city is Kisumu and even it does not see a huge number of foreign visitors. Those traveling to Kisumu are usually their to do work for some organization. However, 3 days prior to my visit a group of 8 people from Portland had visited. One signed as an RN, so I'm guessing that maybe they were a medical team. I also saw signatures from a group of Japanese, someone from the Netherlands, and someone from Moscow.
All in all, it was so surreal and will be a great memory to maintain.
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