Weekend Roundup

Ah Monday… the sound of jackhammers pounding away on the construction site next door, cleaning up the household detritus of the weekend, and the stress of getting everyone where they need to go….

For this weekend, I thankfully don’t have terribly much to report.  J is still under the weather, so we spent most of the time at home.  Before we knew that he was sick, we went to synagogue on Sat morning.  On the one hand, it is terrible shame that there aren’t more kids who come for J to play with.  On the other hand, since he’s the only one, he gets the run of the place and he’s cute rather than annoying.  So Sat was nice.  And then we had some new friends over for brunch on Sunday, and that was nice too.  For the lack of a better word, the weekend was nice overall.  I could’ve done without J’s nighttime wakings, but other than that, fine. 

I’m getting serious about planning my research trips, which will take me to Israel 5 times this year.  Being in Kenya means that I’m in the same time zone, so I’m hoping the trips won’t be so arduous on me.  I know that they will be hard on DW…. solo parenting is ALWAYS hard.  The evil part of me thinks that he should have the experience of parenting without a partner because this is what I dealt with while he traveled over the last two years.  The kinder side of me knows that we can hire someone to live-in and help DW with parenting during my trips.  The kinder side will win out on this occasion.  It will definitely be a challenge for me to be away from DW and J, but I know that this is what my career choice requires and I am excited to be able to have that focus again.  I miss it.

Guests come this week.  First, an old high school buddy of mine will fly in this afternoon.  Then DW’s close friend, also from a high school trip, will visit for a few days.  We are so lucky to have these visitors and to be able to host them easily.  For those of you who have considered coming, remember that we are still here.  And you are still welcome.

Tooteloo for now.

A Return… to Normalcy?

The last few days have brought a welcome distance from the Westgate attack.  I am no longer reading googlenews like it’s on a slow IV drip.  We aren’t turning on the TV anymore.  (Although a lasting impact of the whole thing is that Jonah now knows the word, “TV”.)  I am attempting to focus down on my research and running out for groceries when I need to.  You know, normal life stuff. 

My brother, GB, asked if it felt here like it did in NYC after 911.  Well, I wasn’t there, so I don’t know for sure.  But I think not.  I don’t feel shell-shocked and terrified.  I am a bit more vigilant when walking into the mall, but I’m not holed up inside my house waiting for the next attack to happen.  Also, Nairobi isn’t my long-term home.  I don’t know if that makes all the difference, but it does give me some aesthetic distance from the attack. 

We are told that some of the attackers at the mall changed into everyday clothing and walked out with the rest of the rescued civilians.  They walk about this city.  They could be buying milk ahead of us in line at the grocery.  This is, of course, unsettling, but it serves as a reminder that this world is full of broken people – for certainly only the most broken individuals could commit such violent and indiscriminant crimes.  Individual trauma is all around us, whether it is in the form of those who experience violence or those who perpetrate it. 

A few friends have asked if we are going to leave Kenya.  No, not for the time being.  If there was another attack, and we are fortunate enough not to be victims, then possibly we might rethink our position.  But we’re staying put for now.

Thank you, everyone, who has been in contact with us over the last week.  We are so grateful for your well wishes.  I leave you with a beautiful poem written by Kofi Awoonor, a Ghanaian poet killed in the attack.  Link here.

 

ACROSS A NEW DAWN

Sometimes, we read the

lines in the green leaf

run our fingers over the

smooth of the precious wood

from our ancient trees;

Sometimes, even the sunset

puzzles, as we look

for the lines that propel the clouds,

the colour scheme

with the multiple designs

that the first artist put together

There is dancing in the streets again

the laughter of children rings

through the house

On the seaside, the ruins recent

from the latest storms

remind of ancestral wealth

pillaged purloined pawned

by an unthinking grandfather

who lived the life of a lord

and drove coming generations to

despair and ruin

*

But who says our time is up

that the box maker and the digger

are in conference

or that the preachers have aired their robes

and the choir and the drummers

are in rehearsal?

No; where the worm eats

a grain grows.

the consultant deities

have measured the time

with long winded

arguments of eternity

And death, when he comes

to the door with his own

inimitable calling card

shall find a homestead

resurrected with laughter and dance

and the festival of the meat

of the young lamb and the red porridge

of the new corn

*

We are the celebrants

whose fields were

overrun by rogues

and other bad men who

interrupted our dance

with obscene songs and bad gestures

Someone said an ailing fish

swam up our lagoon

seeking a place to lay its load

in consonance with the Original Plan

Master, if you can be the oarsman

for our boat

please do it, do it.

I asked you before

once upon a shore

at home, where the

seafront has narrowed

to the brief space of childhood

We welcome the travelers

come home on the new boat

fresh from the upright tree

From “Promises of Hope: New and Selected Poems,” selected by Kofi Anyidoho, University of Nebraska Press and the African Poetry Book Fund, 2014

A Fear of Parents Everywhere…

You never want to hear the pediatrician say the words, “tuberculosis,” “mumps,” or “cancer”…. but that’s what happened this morning.  SPOILER ALERT: J is fine. He has none of those terrible things.  But he does have a hugely swollen gland in his neck, so swollen that his jawline appears lopsided.  Lydia and I had noticed that he hasn’t been his usual bundle of energy for at least the past week.  He’s been a bit lethargic, cranky and basically not himself.  So yesterday when I noticed the enlarged gland, I knew something was wrong.  We decided not to go out right away because the Westgate mess was still going on, but this morning (Tues), I braved morning traffic to get J to the doctor.

Going to the pediatrician in Nairobi is much like the ped in the U.S.  J has now seen doctors in Tucson (2 different docs), Fort Collins (a few different), New York City, Portland, and Nairobi – did I miss any?  His doc here is located at the renowned children’s hospital and I know he’s getting great care.  They took blood to rule out any of those big time illnesses that I mentioned earlier.  Seems as though he has a virus.  We’ll keep a look out for anything else suspicious.  Cross fingers that we don’t have to return to the doc for anything besides the routine checkups and vaccines. 

(For all you concerned parents out there:  J is vaccinated to the hilt.  We are on track with all his shots and added yellow fever and meningitis to regular American-recommended schedule.  Given our travels and the recurrence of polio, meningitis and other nasties here in Kenya, we are taking all precautions.)

Vulnerability and Security

These past few days have been rough going.  So far, the only person we really *know* who has been injured in the Westgate attack is a New Zealander that we met on our Masai Mara trip.  He was shot in the back, but thankfully the shooters missed his spine and vital organs.  I’m told that he’s in surgery today to remove bullet fragments near his heart, but that his prognosis is good.  We have reached out to his wife. 

I am having flashbacks to when I lived in Israel in the fall of 2000.  I was living blissfully on a kibbutz, harvesting sunflower seeds.  I was working hard, getting fit, getting a tan, and meeting boys.  Not bad.  But that moment didn’t last long.  By October, the second intifada had erupted and there was violence nearby.  We were told not to leave the kibbutz.  Apache fighter helicopters flew ominously overhead.  The volunteers sat around, eating humus, glued to the BBC station in our common house watching soldiers being lynched on repeat.  I was so young, so naive.  I had no idea – really – of what was going on.  I was scared and clueless.

This afternoon we turned on our TV to see the smoke billowing out of the Westgate mall.  Apparently, this standoff has taken longer than expected and, even though Kenyan officials are assuring the public that everything is under control, no one really believes them.  DW came home from work early.  I canceled a doctor’s appointment for J.  It just doesn’t make sense to go out on the roads today.

For better or worse, the whole idea of being secure is an illusion. We make ourselves feel better by putting up walls and gates and guards and systems. We reassure ourselves of our invincibility.  We plan for tomorrow.  But we are raw, vulnerable, flesh and blood beings.  It doesn’t take much to damage our bodies or our psyches. 

This attack feels real to us despite the fact that we aren’t in the vicinity of the mall because people like us were the targets.  The attackers meant to punish Kenya by terrifying those with wealth, those who enrich the country.  Even though we weren’t at the Westgate Mall on Sat, we could have been there, sipping a latte when the gunmen threw grenades and shot innocents indiscriminately.  The veil of safety has been lifted and we are confronted with our vulnerability.  It isn’t pretty.

Answering some questions

1. Are we stranded in our apartment? No.  As I mentioned, we were out and about this morning, visiting friends in another neighborhood.  The city did feel empty and calm, but some folks were at the grocery and going about their day.  We did not go anywhere near Westgate, nor do we have any plans to see that part of town. 

2. How are we feeling? Very much on edge.  I have spent a large part of the day watching news feeds, hoping to see something new, hopeful.   We are still waiting for an end to the standoff.  There are rumors flying around that the gunmen have rigged the mall with explosives and will make a big final exit.   But those seem like just rumors.  The State Department's advisory recommends staying away from malls and crowds over the next few days and we intend to take their recommendations seriously.

3. What's in store for us tomorrow?  Who knows? Let's hope that the police are able to rescue the hostages before morning and then we'll go about our day as planned.  DW will go to his office, which is south of the center city, far from the Westgate area.  I will stay in and work from home.  I plan to try and give blood tomorrow because the Red Cross has made a public plea for more blood reserves to treat the wounded.  

Sending love and hope.

That Elusive Feeling of Safety

Dear Readers,

This has been an emotional and difficult last 24 hours here in Nairobi.  As of last night (Sat), we were still waiting to hear from a friend (she’s fine) and we heard this morning (Sunday) that our nanny’s cousin was rescued at the mall at 9am unharmed.  Without a doubt, it was the scariest night of her life. So many people dead.  So many injured.  The city is reeling.  As far as we know, at this moment (3pm Sunday), the standoff continues between police and the Shabab terrorists.  It is rumored that they have hostages.  Just awful.

One small spark of light from this horrible situation:  everyone we know has been really great, being in touch, trying to comfort one another.  We attempted to give blood, but the line outside the hospital was too much for J.  Hopefully I will go tomorrow without him.  It is the only thing to do.  Considering we arrived in this country only 2 months ago, it feels like there was an entire community of people concerned about us and we about them. 

Whether it’s the guards at our complex, our electrified fence, or our distance from the mall that was attacked, we feel safe.  We went out to the synagogue sukkah today and visited with the rabbi and his family.   The streets were eerily empty.  Our local mall and grocery are still shut. 

When I start thinking too hard about the attack, I wonder if I , in a similar circumstance, would act fast enough to protect myself and J.  I wonder if I would make the right decisions – run or hide?  DW reminds me that this is ridiculous thinking, that one can never know what will happen in life and that there is no real way to be prepared.  I suppose he’s right.  After all, in this day, you can be the victim of random violence in a mall or school in the U.S. just as commonly as you can be the victim of terrorism here or anywhere.  That lack of control is disconcerting, but uncertainty is part of life, right?

We appreciate all the kind words that came from Israel, Jordan, the U.K, Mexico, both coasts of the U.S. and places in the middle.  We’re doing OK and are praying for the lives of the hostages to be spared. 

Keep them in your thoughts,

Love, M/D/&J

We’re fine.

For those of you following the news, there has been an attack with a number of gunmen opening fire on civilians at a very popular mall in Nairobi called Westgate.  My understanding is that there have been 20 casualties and at least 50 people are hurt.  We are following the news closely while trying not to go crazy.  We are, thank god, fine, having gone to see the studio of a local artist this morning to the south of the city rather than heading north toward the mall.  We know people who work there and are very concerned about them.