I’ve always found these long layovers in Europe strange. In the midst of the transition between the place where I was and the place where I’m going, there are a few hours in a place that doesn’t feel like either the old or the new. I wander around in a daze, my mind jumping between remembering the people who I said goodbye to 24 hours ago and the people who I’m about to see when I land in Washington.

I ran into an acquaintance at the Nairobi airport last night who asked me if I was happy or sad to be leaving. I gave the standard response, “sad to be leaving, but happy to be seeing friends and family.” While that’s true, there’s a bit more complexity to it.

Of course I’m sad to leave Kenya because I have really enjoyed the last 8 months and have made great friends who I’m sure will remain part of my life. But, I’m also sad to leave because this signifies the end of this stage of my life – a three year period of moving, studying, traveling, and working abroad. I’ve lived in 10 apartments in 4 countries and have been totally independent and relatively unattached. I’ve proven to myself that I can adapt to change and handle insecurity. I’ve made great friends in all the places I’ve been and have made the places my home for as long or short as the duration of the stay.

The lengthy 2 ½ month transition period I will now begin will end with a final move to San Francisco and a real full-time job (something I haven’t had since July 2004). For the most part, I’m excited about moving into an apartment and filling it with my own things, expanding out of the two suitcases I’ve been living in, and settling down someplace; but I can only imagine that in some respect, I’ll miss the excitement of constant change.

Final Nairobi photo album

The third in the series, this is my mom's blog post about visiting a shantytown on the outskirts of Nairobi. I encourage you to support this project by buying sandals or making a donation to Ecosandals.
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“ Where to?” the Nairobi driver asked as we piled into the taxi.” Korogocho,” Jocelyn replied.

The driver’s jaw dropped as his eyes widened. Why would a bunch of “mzungus” visit one of the largest and most desperately poor shantytowns in Africa? Our daughter wanted to show us Ecosandals, a community-based business she had volunteered for.

After 20 minutes, we turned onto a deeply rutted dusty road; the acrid odor of burning garbage made our eyes water and noses burn. Beyond four-story apartments were hundreds of shacks, rusted metal roofs pressed together, people and children wandering everywhere.

Roselyne, sales manager of 12-year-old Ecosandals, greeted us with hugs and kisses in the office/workshop. Six sandalmakers worked in two 8’ x 10’ rooms, designing, cutting, gluing, and finishing the leather and recycled tire tread sandals sold on the internet or in local markets. Ecosandals has consistently provided employment and free secondary education to adolescent HIV/AIDS orphans and single mothers. The young men and women were incredibly proud of their work and incredulous that American tourists were so interested in what they were doing.

Roselyne wanted to show us Korogocho, I was anxious about safety, concerned about what we might see, uncomfortable where I did not belong. Here 150,000 people live in cardboard, wood, and metal shacks, no running water or toilets, limited electricity. Waste water and raw sewage collect in makeshift open gutters beside the dirt road, emitting a disgusting stench. Children with runny noses, dressed in discarded Goodwill clothes, called out, “How are you? How are you?” -- the only English they knew. Some braved grabbing a finger to touch white skin. Adults glanced up from work and smiled or nodded as we walked by.

I realized I had nothing to worry about. We were visiting a “city” with a real sense of order and purpose. Although almost no one was “employed” in the strictest sense of the word, everyone was engaged in meaningful activity. “Shops” lined the main roads and people sold everything imaginable — fruit, vegetables, meat, French fries, freshly grilled corn on the cob, auto parts, tools, furniture, used clothing and shoes, dirty recycled glass jars, scrap metal, household and kitchen items.

Every morning, doors of the shanties are opened, goods placed on the ground, ready for sale. We stopped and bought two “jikos” (small charcoal braziers) for $3 each from a painfully thin man with a brown-toothed smile. He could hardly believe his good fortune.

Women talked and laughed as they did their wash in the street next to a standing water faucet. Children played in the water as it ran into open gutters. Chickens pecked in the dirt and young boys led goats to open garbage pits to rummage through the trash.

In a new community/health center, funded by international aid, two articulate community leaders discussed mission, goals, successes, challenges. It struck me that similar conversations take place in communities all over the U.S. Health is the biggest challenge: 40% have HIV/AIDS. Dysentery, cholera, TB, worms are common.
We stepped inside a primary school classroom, a dark, low shack with 40 five-six year olds on rough wooden benches. The teacher sat in a chair holding her 3-month baby in one arm while children copied math problems from the blackboard into their composition books. At another Catholic school, children in orange and navy uniforms played a game similar to “Farmer in the Dell.”

As we returned to Ecosandals for “nyama choma” (grilled meat) and avocado salad, lovingly prepared by Roselyne, I realized how fortunate we were to visit Korogocho. Most residents will never leave this shantytown, because of education, work experience, skills, and money. But this is their community, a place where they care for each other and live with dignity, purpose, and hope.
What an eye-opening and humbling experience it was visiting Korogocho!

Carol Wyatt, July 5, 2007

To continue the series of blog posts written by family members about our trip in Kenya and Tanzania, here is my brother Ian's post on Zanzibar.
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It's unmistakable as our plane approaches the small landing strip that we are in the developing world. Looking down at the ground that passes below, we see the outskirts of Stonetown, with tin shacks, dirt roads, and piles of trash. While we are about to land at the Tanzanian island paradise of Zanzibar, we need no reminder that this is still the developing world.

Unlike western beach playgrounds for the well-to-do, Zanzibar's poor is front and center. Where we would expect to see overpriced condos within walking distance of the ocean, we find chaotic markets and dirty streets.

However, that is not our Zanzibar. An hour and a half drive from the airport, we arrive at Evergreen Bungalows on the eastern side of the island. This rustic beach front getaway with eight or ten bungalows and a restaurant and bar could have been built thirty years ago, or much more recently. The rooms that come equipped with mosquito nets and showers with one temperature...cold...are literally on the beach. The beds have the standard African-style thin and hard mattresses and paper thin pillows, which is a stark contrast to our pillow-top mattress with eight oversized pillows at home.

While Evergreen isn't the island paradise that I would have chosen had i been coordinating this trip, is is absolutely perfect and reminds me that we are in fact not in the Bahamas, but instead on an island in the Indian ocean.

The food here is among the best we have enjoyed in Africa, and includes a lunch and dinner menu that changes daily and includes primarily seafood options...whole grilled fish of the day with the head on; grilled octopus; seafood salad. We are however operating on African standard time, where things are inefficient and slow. We order lunch and hour before we are ready to eat, and give the kitchen staff at least an hour and a half to prepare the more complicated dinner course. Drinks on the beach is a must for any beach vacation, but they are similarly slow. If in a hurry for a drink, we order beer or wine, as fruity drinks like pina coladas can take 20 minutes to prepare.

We spend our days constantly outside, relaxing on beach chairs reading, going for a dip in the ocean, walking on the beach in search of sea shells, or out on the sailboat for an afternoon snorkeling trip that leaves our mouths full of salt water.

Our time here has been quiet and relaxing, and reminds me that vacation isn't only about being pampered in a five star resort; occasionally its important to sit back and reflect upon the fact that we are so fortunate and live such privileged lives compared to the people we passed in the van from the airport in Stonetown to our bungalow getaway and those we have seen everyday during this eye-opening trip to Africa.

Ian Wyatt, July 3, 2007

More photos from Zanzibar

Before leaving New York this fall, Acumen Fund challenged each of the fellows to raise $10,000 to support Acumen's work in East Africa and South Asia. Acumen Fund provides capital and managerial support to social enterprises that serve the poor by delivering goods and services related to health, housing, water, and energy.

I have made progress towards my fundraising goal and am now trying to raise the final $3,400 from friends, family, colleagues, and other supporters. Your donation will support the fellows program and allow others to have the type of experience and make the kind of contributions that I've had a chance to make over the past year.

Please consider making a gift to Acumen Fund. You can read more on the website, www.acumenfund.org and can donate online, http://acumenfund.org/Community/SupportOurWork/. When you make a contribution, please include my name in the "Referred By" box so your donation will count towards my $10,000 fundraising goal.

Thanks so much for your support!

I just returned to Nairobi after an amazing vacation in Tanzania with my family. I challenged them each to write a blog post about the trip and this is the one my dad wrote about being on safari.
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It’s the dry season in the Serengeti, and we’ve been sucking dust for four days. With Samuel, our guide, behind the wheel of the seasoned Land Rover, we’ve covered hundreds of kilometers since the leaving the last paved road. Samuel’s self-styled “African massage” has taken us over dirt roads at best—often just rutted tracks through the barren grasslands, past countless Thompson’s gazelles. After an hour in the bush, we rejoice at rejoining the “main road,” which would pass for a four-wheel-drive-only washboard in the States. Red dust, white dust—different geologies, same smell, taste, and feel. Your throat hurts, your nose runs, your sweat mixes with sunscreen and road grit to cake your body in slimy filth.

For all of this, we’re having the time of our lives. Unrivaled sunrises and sunsets. Lions lounging on rocks in the mid-day sun, and a seldom-seen leopard stretched out high on a tree limb. Hundreds of hippos wallowing in a pool. Elephants lumbering past our lodge at dusk while we stand amazed, wine glasses in hand. And the wildebeests migrating, steadily marching north towards the Maasai Mara and water. Hundreds, no, it must be thousands, wait, tens of thousands, but we see just a fraction of the million or more that are on this, their own safari, or journey.

Vast, timeless, this area exposes much yet keeps many secrets. So visually accessible, you feel photography was invented just to share these sights. Yet so much remains hidden from view, in the tall grasses, behind that rock outcropping, at night; and also from our understanding.

Outside the main gate to Ngorongoro Crater, we hit the paved road paid for by Japanese foreign aid. No more sucking dust. Back to “modern Africa”—people walking everywhere; women carrying firewood on their heads; girls with plastic water jugs aloft; fields of maize broken by Coca-Cola billboards; cattle-pulled carts loaded with melons. This too is the “real” East Africa. But I’m beginning to miss sucking dust.

Bruce Wyatt
29 June 2007

Photos from safari

I am now in the final weeks of the fellowship, leaving Kenya exactly a month from today. I will return to the U.S. to spend a month in New York finishing the fellowship with Acumen Fund.

I am excited to report that I recently accepted a position with IDEO, a design consulting firm based in Palo Alto, California. IDEO has done some great work with social enterprises (including KickStart and Acumen Fund) and wants to get into design for the base of the pyramid. I will join the IDEO team to help move this forward and will work to design products and services for the poor in developing countries.

This is an especially exciting time for design as the Design for the Other 90% Exhibit opens at the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum in New York. These pieces about the exhibit explain well the type of design work I expect to be involved in at IDEO.

New York Times article
NPR story

Last weekend, I met Cathy, my childhood best friend, on the Kenayan coast for the weekend. Cathy and her friend, Tanya, came to visit and took a break from safari to spend a few days at the beach.

When I was planning our trip, I asked for recommendations on the coast south of Mombasa (referred to as South Coast) and my colleague, John, recommended Sand Island Cottages on Tiwi Beach. Because we couldn’t resist the rate of $60/night for a cottage for three, we signed up.

As I was on my way out the door on Friday, John handed me an envelope and asked me to give it to Francis (Fuzz) Foster, the proprietor of Sand Island Cottages. I willingly took it, which gave me an opportunity to meet Francis on Saturday.

Francis’s family came to Kenya from the UK several generations ago. Francis is a bachelor of about 70 and has lived on the Sand Island property since the mid 1970’s. Francis no longer manages the property, but stays involved in the juice, jam, and fruit shop which is attached to his house.

Francis was pleased to see us (I expect it can get a bit lonely) and immediately took us around his house, showing off the family’s treasures. The house was like a natural history museum – horns of 50 antelope lined one wall, drawings of fish found on Tiwi Beach filled another, and photos of generations of the Foster family were hung on a third. We saw prehistoric giant clam shells and elephant tusks that were 8 feet tall.

Francis’s family settled in Kenya and owns a farm “up country” in addition to this property on the coast. They are well-known within the “white Kenyan” community and in many ways, Francis has preserved the way Brits in Kenya used to live. Sadly, Francis has no children and none of his family remain in Kenya. His sisters and brothers moved abroad where they live with their families and Francis has no one to continue the Foster family tradition at Sand Island.

While Francis’s family may be too far away to hear his stories as frequently as he or they might like, I hope that he continues to invite people like Cathy, Tanya, and me into his home to share the artifacts he has collected and the stories about Kenya during the last 100 years. While he will pass on, his legacy will live on through his stories.

Photos from the weekend at Tiwi Beach and in Mombasa

University of Michigan is hosting the Base of the Pyramid conference in Ann Arbor from September 9 - 11, 2007.

The conference builds on the growing global interest in enterprise-based strategies for serving the four billion poor at the base of the economic pyramid (BoP). In particular, the conference will focus on sharing the latest thinking on three of the most intriguing and timely issues facing organizations that are interested in developing enterprise-based approaches to creating mutual value with low-income communities. These include:
* Generating a deeper understanding of the landscape, including the opportunities and challenges for enterprise development, at the base of the pyramid.
* Understanding the development implications of a BoP approach as compared to other poverty alleviation strategies.
* Developing the new organizational capabilities required to achieve both business growth and poverty alleviation.

Early registration for the conference ends July 1. Until then, registration is $400 and non-profit organizations, BoP entrepreneurs residing in developing countries, and students are eligible for $100 discount.

For more information and to register, see http://www.bop2007.org/. Hope to see many of you there!

A few weeks ago, Francis, my colleague and friend, invited me to his family's "up country" home outside Machakos (about 2 1/2 hours from Nairobi). Francis is a driver for ABE and picks me up every morning to bring me to the office. Francis has helped me out alot here by giving me rides and helping with my errands. He has also taught me so much about Kenya.

Like many Kenyans, Francis's family has a plot of land which his father has divided between the sons. The plot Francis manages is about an acre, but on that land, he has decided to grow artemisia. Francis admits he doesn't how to farm, but wants to see if artemisia will grow on his land so he can introduce the crop to his neighbors and help them improve their lives. So far, the artemisia has done well, and all the time Francis spent listening to his colleagues talk about artemisia in the car has certainly paid off.

If Francis lived in another place, he would have already started a few companies and would likely be fairly wealthy. However, given his background and situation in Kenya, he is full of business ideas which he has not had an opportunity to try. Working as a driver, farmer, and father is tough work, but Francis manages it well.

I have so much respect for Francis and his family and was delighted to see that my colleague, Marc, felt similarly and wrote this blog post for the Acumen Fund blog.

I invite you to meet Francis in this video interview.

Last weekend, I went to the Masai Mara with my friends, Emma and Gail, who were visiting from New York. “The Mara”, as it’s referred to locally, is Kenya’s most popular game park and reportedly has the highest density of animals. In addition to the flat, expansive savannah covered by tall yellow grass, the Mara is attractive to visitors because vehicles are able to drive off the road and directly up to the animals. This, of course, makes for some fantastic photos and scarily-close views of lions, buffalo, elephants, and cheetahs.

Emma, Gail, and I stayed at Olanana, a spectacular tented camp. We were fortunate to spend three days with Joseph, an excellent guide and proud Maasai warrior. Joseph is smart, funny, and knows his stuff about the plants and animals in the park.

In one of our many Land Rover rides, Joseph taught us about the future value of cows. In rural Kenya, investing in cows can yield higher returns than banks, the stock market, or real estate. A female cow could cost a bit less than $100 and a bull a bit more. If you were to invest $1,000 today on nine heifers and one bull, within a year, you would have 19 animals in a year, plus you would have received dividends of milk throughout the year. Doubling your money in a year isn’t bad, but it does seem like a risky business.

Traditionally, Maasai have measured their wealth by the number of cows they own. However, at a time when families need to be able to save money to send their children to school and put metal roofs on their houses, it’s important that there are a variety of investment options. Better to limit risk a bit and diversity investments by enabling access to banks, savings groups, and capital markets, in addition to livestock.

Photos from our trip to the Mara

Two weeks ago, when we were in Mombasa, Susan, a friend from DC who was visiting, was walking along the beach and a young man stopped her.
“Where are you from?”
“America”
“How’s our brother doing?”
“Um, who’s that?”
“Obama!”

Susan was shocked. How did a Kenyan beach wanderer know about a contender for the Democratic nomination in the U.S.? I’m sure many of you know this, but Barak Obama’s father was born in Kenya and Barak visited Nairobi and his family’s village last summer.

My Kenyan friends and colleagues have frequently told me about their excitement about the prospect of Obama becoming president. They’re optimistic about the assistance Kenya might receive should the U.S. elect “a Kenyan” and tell me how they hope they would be able to get visas for the U.S. if Barak were president.

In the shuttle on the way to work last week, I was reading a New Yorker article about Obama. The first page of the print-out included a small, grainy, black and white photo of Barak. My colleague Rhodah recognized his face and said, “You’re reading about Obama? I hope you will vote for him!”

Kenyan elections will be held in November and people talk constantly about politics. They are amazingly well-informed about local politics, as well as international politics (or at least what is happening in the U.S.). While I should no longer find it surprising, I still think it’s significant that Kenyans follow the Democratic primaries in the U.S. while most Americans don’t know the name of the Kenyan president, or any African president for that matter.

New Yorker article about Obama

Last weekend I went to Mombasa to celebrate Elana’s birthday. Susan, a friend from DC, was visiting and we were joined by Stella, another friend. The weekend was a relaxing one at the beach with activities including swimming, sunbathing, snorkeling, and enjoying the Mombasa nightlife. The beach in Mombasa is beautiful and the resorts that line the coast north of the city are spectacular. Because it is so accessible (via a discount airline, train, and busses), Mombasa is a popular weekend destination for people from Nairobi. Photos from our weekend in Mombasa in my web gallery.

One of the striking things about Mombasa is the diversity of its people. For centuries, immigrants from the Middle East and India have come to Mombasa and have set-up shop as traders and business owners. Many families have now been in Mombasa (and throughout Kenya) for four or five generations and are thoroughly established as Kenyans.

I don’t have much experience with Middle Eastern immigrants in Kenya, but have been struck by the strength of the Indian community. Certain neighborhoods in Nairobi are predominantly Indian and Indians (referred to as Asians) have a reputation for being insolated. Perhaps most striking is that even four of five generations later, Kenyan “Asians” speak with Indian accents.

Indians in Kenya have built large businesses, made significant contributions to the local economy, and employed many many people. Perhaps because of their success, they face discrimination and it is not uncommon to hear disparaging remarks. On her way from the Mombasa airport, Stella’s taxi driver casually remarked, “Asians are buying up all the houses on the beach. They now own everything around here.”

I think about how Indian Kenyans are able to be so entrepreneurial and successful in starting businesses in a place where so much bureaucracy and bribery is required to get anything done. How can their example serve as a motivating one, rather than cause resentment? Many Kenyans are also very entrepreneurial but lack resources to grow their businesses beyond the roadside fruit stand. What needs to happen so they can succeed in starting and building enterprises which can also make large contributions to the economic growth of this country?

This video interview is with Winifred, my colleague Rachel's nanny and housekeeper. Winifred lives with Rachel's family, takes care of her children when Rachel and her husband are at work, and cooks and cleans for the family.

Winifred has her own baby who lives with Winifred's mother, allowing Winifred to work and provide for her family. In Kenya, it's common for middle and upper class families to employ full-time nannies and housekeepers. Many times, these women leave their husbands and children "up country" and go home on a monthly basis to see them.

While this is certainly not an ideal situation, employment options are limited for poorly-educated single mothers like Winifred and working as a nanny will allow her to provide basic provisions for her daughter.

Meet Winifred in this video.

Last week I had the opportunity to spend two days in a Maasai village in Tanzania. I had gone to Arusha with Eric and Marc from Acumen Fund to spend the weekend with Keely and take some time to meet Tanzanian farmers that ABE works with to grow artemisia. I had mentioned to my colleagues in Arusha that Eric and I would love an opportunity to spend the night with the farmers, but hadn’t heard back so I thought it wasn’t going to happen. Fortunately, they had read the email and had been thinking about how to satisfy this strange request. After assuring my colleagues that we understood that we would not have a real bed to sleep on and that we knew the village would lack modern conveniences, my colleagues agreed to make arrangement for us to stay with a Maasa family about an hour outside Arusha.

We spent the day interviewing and video-taping a group of 15 farmers who work together to grow artemisia. Each of them told stories about how their income has increased as a result of the new crop and how they can now afford to sell their children to school and put metal roofs on their houses. They can now even afford to buy the malaria medication that the plant they are growing is used to make.

At one point, we stopped to take a soda break and noticed that the farmers we all talking about us and laughing. I asked my colleagues to translate and found out that they were excitedly spreading the news that Eric and I would be spending the night with them.

That evening, the family ceremoniously slaughtered a goat in our honor as we sat around a fire sitting on short three-legged stools chatting with my colleagues from ABE and the farmers. One of the farmers asked why we were visiting them in Tanzania and Eric and I did our best to explain our work and our relation to them. We explained that we were all connected – Eric (Acumen Fund) has the money which it gives to Jocelyn (ABE in Nairobi) who in turn gives the money to Peter (ABE in Arusha) who gives it to the Maasai farmers in exchange for their artemisia. The smiles on the faces of our hosts when they realized that we are working together and that the supply chain of which they are an integral piece stretches around the world, was unforgettable.

As I mentioned in my last blog post about ABE, it still blows my mind that ABE’s scale and reach in East Africa is so large. That this company is able to work with thousands of small-scale Tanzanian farmers (including this group of Maasai) is incredible, as they have had to overcome so many logistical and infrastructural challenges to make this happen. Through our interviews and by getting to know these farmers, Eric and I were certainly able to see the social impact on the lives of these people and truly feel inspired by our work with ABE. Stay tuned for the video that we are making for the company.

Until then, check out this short video I developed about what I’m doing at ABE and these photos from my trip to Tanzania.

Read Eric's account of our visit

My friend, Maryanne, recommended her hairdresser, Daniel, and I made an appointment. I expected the salon at the Holiday Inn to be swanky, but I did not expect my hairdresser to be Swiss. When I met him, I figured he had come here with someone or had grown up in Kenya. However, I was surprised to learn that he applied to a classified add in Zurich recruiting European hairdressers for a Nairobi salon.

My first instinct was to think that the expat and mzungu influence was so strong in Kenya that not only do development agencies import talent from abroad, but this mentality has extended to hairdressers. I brought this up with another friend, Elana, who had another perspective. Elana goes to an Ethiopian hairdresser in Nairobi because the woman’s hair is like hers. We want confidence that the person who cuts our hair knows how to handle it. We’re all vain in some ways and hair is an important piece of the way we look. Elana thought it was natural to seek a stylist who has experience with people whose hair is like ours. While I still can’t imagine seeing an Italian hairdresser in Bolivia or India, perhaps seeing Daniel in Kenya is not as disturbing as I initially thought.