Kenya Diary - Epilogue

Photo: A lone antelope silhouetted against the sunset. Masai Mara National Reserve, Kenya (June 23, 2006)

Epilogue: July 5, 2006

The shock of returning to the West seems to me almost as severe as was the entry to the Third World. Everywhere, things are brightly lit, clean, and predictable. It struck me when I arrived at London Heathrow and walked into Terminal 3 – the duty-free shops, Harrod’s, Gucci, etc. It was overwhelming consumerism pretty much in my face. This was exacerbated by having to be there for a 7-hour layover. I don’t know how many times I wandered through the various shops. I didn’t buy a thing. How can anybody pay £60 for a shirt anyway?

Even before arriving in London, from the moment I got to Kenyatta Airport in Nairobi, I have been having a difficult time with the behavior of Americans. Now, I know that this is a broad generalization, but I was incredibly irritated by them. They are not only loud, but also amazingly brazen in complaining about things. It was almost nauseating to watch them congratulate themselves for taking on such adventurous travel (in the safety of a group, on a scripted tour, moving from tourist facility to tourist facility, pampered at every turn). I headed for the Kenya Airways transit lounge, which none of them seemed to have the ingenuity to find (it would mean leaving the herd), and enjoyed tea and cake for an hour while watching the World Cup – the only customer in the lounge (as the “great white explorers” sat bitching about the lack of seating near the gate and the prices in the souvenir shops).

Yesterday, I went to Wal-Mart. I didn’t buy very much (some recordable DVDs), but I was there for over an hour just wandering the aisles. I can understand how people coming from developing countries are utterly paralyzed by a place like Wal-Mart. I had the same feeling at the grocery store. How can anybody who has never experienced this decide which of seventeen brands of butter or margarine to buy? You’d simply stare at the dairy case.

I realized that one of the things most uncomfortable for me in Kenya was the relative ‘information starvation’ I experienced. With no truly easy Internet access, no news television (well, basically no television at all), and only occasionally reading the daily paper, I was very much cut off from the rest of the world. At home, I watch CNN, read various news web sites, and often read the paper, along with several weekly news magazines. This level of input simply wasn’t possible in Kenya, and I missed it quite a bit.

Of course, the opposite problem must occur for those who come to the West from developing countries: information overload. There is so much coming at them from sources they’ve never had before that it must be overwhelming attempting to filter it all and determine what is really important and what is simply background noise. We in the West are used to doing this, and we develop the ability from a very early age. To be suddenly faced with it must be a shock.

It seems that either a society emphasizes community or it emphasizes consumption. Perhaps they are inherently antagonistic ideals. The more things one has, the easier it is to be distracted from maintaining relationships with family and friends. In the West, we have lost a sense of community. Of course there are various types of communities in the West, but the sense of bond that I observed among students at Tangaza College, and among people at Flora Hostel, was far deeper and more genuine than most of the social interactions I’ve known. There is also a much more vibrant intellectual life among the students at Tangaza. They have very few amusements – certainly when compared to American college students – and they embrace discussion and debate with a relish that any professor would be blessed to have in the classroom.

Lest the reader think that Kenya is an idyllic paradise, however, life is difficult for these people. Students are engaged, in some respects, because Tangaza is a haven away from their difficult living conditions and the general grind of life in Nairobi. It is not surprising that they should want to go there and participate fully in the academic process. And, yet, even with advanced degrees, the employment situation is bleak in Kenya. It is difficult to find a position with a solid salary. I suppose that is also why the students are motivated to become educated and to understand their situation: they wish to change it.

I am left wondering how such a beautiful country with such clever, warm, and hopeful people should be in such a state. Perhaps it is too early to despair. It was only in 2002 that a truly free election took place and the press was liberated. It will take some time to sort out how to govern a free society, which is certainly not a very tidy business. The United States has illustrated this last point time and time again. But I also have hope that the young Kenyans I met will succeed in building a stronger, fairer, and more prosperous nation. They are people of integrity and have a genuine desire to move beyond the tribal jealousies of past generations, and to stop blaming the legacy of colonialism for all of the nation’s ills. They will, I know, make a difference.

I have certainly not changed Kenya by being there, but I know that Kenya has changed me. Perhaps this is the most important effect of the Maryknoll Institute. I don’t think people attend the Maryknoll Institute for African Studies expecting to be fundamentally changed (does anybody do anything expecting to be fundamentally changed?), but this is an inescapable outcome if one engages the culture as the program intends. A part of your mind becomes, in effect, African. You become conversant with the cultural norms of the other culture, and you see through that lens, without attempting to filter through your native cultural context. That is an amazing feat for three weeks, and it does come with a certain degree of stress and requires a good deal of effort. But, ultimately, you learn an entirely different way of being human. How can one underestimate the value of that?

For more information on the Maryknoll Institute of African Studies of Saint Mary’s University, please see:

http://www.mias.edu/