So, I’m a few days behind on my updates. The past week has been a whirlwind of ups and downs, excitement, exhaustion, happiness, anger, fear and love. I think that for a few days, while battling a nasty sinus infection, I was so over-stimulated by my experiences here in Kenya that by the end of each day I had nothing left to give. I am realizing today, as I head off to Diani Beach on the South Coast and then Lamu for my well-earned week long vacation, that I am fully willing to surrender to my emotions, my body’s feelings of fatigue and my minds’ lack of clarity.
This morning I woke up after my last night in the AYP house with Katy, (she’s heading up north to volunteer with an orphanage called Flying Kites for two weeks) and found that there isn’t any water. “TIA”…this isn’t an unusual experience here in Nairobi where the power goes out multiple times per day, wireless connections can take ten minutes to load a page and toilet paper, running water and soap are a luxury in a public washroom, so, I decided to practice being a local and have an ‘African Bath’. I filled a bucket with some water that was luckily saved for reserve, and washed myself with a cup from the kitchen. It did the job and I reminisced of days splashing around in my green froggy pool as a kid!
Here I am on this sunny Wednesday morning attempting to recap all that has happened this past week and a half. Impossible! There isn’t enough time or space on this page…
One thing I can share is that I am incredibly grateful for my experiences with Africa Yoga Project. I met so many fabulous friends who have inspired me in ways that I don’t think I’ll realize for months to come. As I think about our last day with the teachers last Saturday after practicing with 108 sweaty yogis and friends (thanks to a challenging class from Katy and Moses), I’m angry with myself for not having instigated a proper good-bye with everyone. My head cold and feelings of being overwhelmed took me out from being present and enjoying my last few hours with the shining hearts behind this beautiful organization. I will have to initiate a proper ‘good-bye’ next Thursday as I pass through Nairobi for one last day.
Our visits to the slums opened Katy’s and my eyes to a way of life that counters everything we North Americans understand. The living conditions are simple, yes ‘simple’, I’ll use that word, but, there is a sense of pride and contentment with these living quarters and it has made me question my belief systems about ‘need’ vs. ‘want’.
The funny thing is that I feel so deeply attached to Africa, I always have been and now that I’m here, the feeling has only strengthened. I know I’ll be back, probably even sooner than I think. I have been pondering whether I can see myself living here with these beautiful people. I think I might, but where ‘here’ is on this giant continent is still yet to be discovered.
Yesterday, (after our fantastic Safari and visits to the Maasai Village) as we drove from Amboseli to the Tanzanian border with Samson (a wonderful AYP teacher/assistant) and Jacob (our Maasai tribesman buddy), the scenery felt so familiar and out-of-this-world magnificent. When I had pictured myself one-day visiting Africa, this is exactly what I had envisioned. It was almost too much for me to take in. My body was tired, I was emotionally exhausted, and here I was looking out the window at my dream landscape. I found myself experiencing frustration for not being in the state of mind that I had hoped I could be in when seeing this beauty for the first time. Alas, I have to let it go. My feelings are what they are. My experience was exactly as it should be.
Prior to this trip, I considered the possibility that I may be able to live with less after seeing what I have seen. On the contrary, I couldn’t be happier by the thought of heading to an all-inclusive resort this afternoon with a hot shower, big bed and lawn chairs. Despite my deep new found appreciation for the things I have, I am happy to announce that I still want to have them! I don’t doubt for a second though, that I will thank the stars and the moon every day for being born in Canada with the abundance that surrounds my every action in life.
I want to send a special THANK YOU to all of my friends at AYP for their time, openness, generosity and love. I am feeling empty right now as I sit in the boarding lounge completely alone. I miss Katy, my partner in crime; I miss Billy, our ‘dancing king’, Auma, our 'Mamma' and the brightest and craziest teacher of them all, Sadick, our wonderful Rafiki and the ‘please speak in English’ police and all of the warm and happy teachers who have changed my life forever. As I said before, only time can now help me to understand what just happened, but I commit to taking these experiences and causing change back at home and in the rest of the world. If not now, when? If not here, where?
From one of the prettiest places on earth,
Lisa Clark
]]>I am honored to be an Ambassador for AYP & I say that in a way I haven’t felt prior to this trip. The AYP teachers graciously welcomed Lisa & I into their homes, lives, & yoga practices. On & off the mat many memories were created that I'll cherish for a lifetime. Though this past week was especially challenging, given that we spent the majority of our time visiting AYP Outreach Programs throughout the Slums of Nairobi, invaluable lessons were learned & my heart has no doubt doubled in size.
Following our first visit to Kariobungi on Sunday (the day that inspired my last post), my ability to cope with being face-to-face with life in the slums diminished. Though my first ever visit to the slum was one of my most memorable & joyful experiences, that night my dreams were terrifying & startling. My sleep was interrupted by the smells, sights & sounds that I saw in the slums. It's almost as if I was revisiting the slums without the joy of the children.
Though my heart felt sick & my body began to take the pain, I marched on. In experiencing a life so drastically different than my own, there is really is no prescribed way in how to prepare or process the array of feelings & emotions. I came to terms with this thought as we continued to visit the AYP Outreach Programs. Though my heart ached in a way I never thought possible the faces, energy & love of the children in our classes raised me up.
Anyone that knows me, knows that the more time I can spend with children, the greater my spirit grows. So it goes without saying that I was delighted to learn that many of the outreach programs we attended were very children-centric. Shining Hope & the Kibera School for Girls, Gracious Kids, Hamlet Centre, School at the Langata Women's Prison, Rehema & Kings Junior Academy have children with smiles that melt your heart in a passing glance. AYP Class for the Deaf, Kreative Generations, AYP Meetings & Filmings were among our programs in which we experienced Outreaches geared more toward the older generations that were equally as memorable as those with Children.
The response to yoga from generations young & old was so powerful. It was so evident how healing yoga can be for people of all ages. The teachers and staff of AYP are working wonders as they continue to spread yoga throughout their local communities.
On our last day of visiting outreaches, Lisa & I had the pleasure of visiting Kreative Generations. The organization has recently teamed with AYP to share yoga throughout there communities as well. They shared with us a sweet performance including a rendition of “You Raise Me Up”, originally by Westlife. The moment brought me to tears in my reflection upon my last days with AYP on my first ever visit to Africa.
Words can’t express my gratitude for this journey with AYP. To the teachers, staff, & beings young & old in the slums…
You have raised me up to more than I can be.
Until next time, Katy Mason xo
]]>And I stood no chance for defense, because sometimes even the mirror in your house can be delusional, giving you imaginary interpretations and mixed images of what you are.
And so every morning you leave your house with a false ego of what you really are. Just because your mirror made you believe you HAVE.
Time passes by deeply rooting and grounding your character, emanating from that false image of what you have built within.
And though you still stand tall in defense of your ego which you should anyway, you draw lines, demarcating yourself made space and that other one, that other one full of possibilities to wake you up from sleeplessness, enlighten and free the prisoner who for years have barricaded themselves behind freedom bars.
Vinyassa power Yoga is and least a practice I can defend, least because everything should be approached with relativity. Though I can’t shout to the rooftop in its advocacy, I can trace years back before I met my mat and I know I am different because I can feel it, I am now convinced that though I might know my palm very well and the lines on it, which would probably help the fortune teller presume my future, yoga has helped me think about the back of my palm, which I hardly ever acknowledged.
If what is I see is what’s mistaken for dysfunction, I still stand no chance for defense but at least I can defend the fact that the backside of my palm might be darker in complexion but it’s still part of my hand and I love it equally,
I have learned to look at my hand, and listen to your opinion with an open heart because my mind is now transformed and disciplined not to use it use too much but to let it be, and yoga did it.
I wouldn’t blame anyone or get too hard on myself, but let no one do themselves the injustice of judging me with yesterday when I am moving on with my vinyasa flow, and carrying my practice like a crucifix .
I am flow.
Evans Ng'ang'a
]]>Our visit to the slum started with transportation via two Matatus “Minibuses”. The first of the two was stripped inside of nothing but 9 seats & the front bench seat accommodating 2 passengers. Small holes to the road below & exposed body of the car throughout the vehicle were among many of its charms. We transferred buses, after a walk downtown, which was risky in & of itself. Next, we boarded a larger matatu, complete with a conductor & all. By conductor, I mean a man standing outside of the bus yelling its destination & pounding on the side of the bus. In time, the fluorescent green matatu began moving & we were off to Kariabungi.
Our drive to the slum was smooth, despite it being my first experience in a matatu. My heart on the other hand was feeling much more bumpy. I found it hard to keep composure as we drove past a large slum with mountains of garbage piled high, just a few feet away from living quarters. Even now, I find it hard to put in words how heavy my heart felt & how I hard I was trying to make sense of such devastating reality. While these thoughts passed through my mind, the small child standing beside me was holding her toy… a miniature, plastic machine gun. A few tears fell as the smell of trash continued to infiltrate the bus & I reflected on what life could possibly be like living in the slums, especially for youngest generation. I was lost for a moment & unsure of how I would physically & emotionally be able to make it through my first visit to the slums. I began to feel lighter as Irene continued filling me in on the local spots & places in which yoga has taken place through Africa Yoga Project. Then we arrived…
The conductor was amazing as I hopped out of the matatu like a pro… But I didn’t see it any other way. Lisa was on land, while our Rafikis “Friends” were still in the vehicle. In Nairobi, Matatus don’t necessarily stop… ever. Nevermind the absence of traffics lights, there are hardly any designated bus stops. It’s come & go as you please, even in the midst of traffic. Following my leap of faith, we continued walking through the Kariabungi Market as we made our way to Wanji’s home. I began to feel heavy again, as I was faced with the realities of walking through a slum, as opposed to seeing them in a distance. It wasn’t until I heard a sweet chorus that my heart lifted & the world as I knew it changed forever.
Imagine hearing “How are you? How are you? How are you?” from the tiniest voices, reaching from behind doors, between ally-ways, at your feet, up on roof-tops (literally) & balconies. The sweet, sweet Children of Karibungi!!!
They were there in abundance and thrilled to greet Lisa & I, the Mzungus “White People” (Formally, people of Foreign Descent). The celebrities were in town & each & every one of the children were reaching their hands out to us for a Gota “Greeting” (Super informally, “Fist-pump”). Words & pictures can not describe the smiles of these children. My heaviness completely lifted as I realized the oneness of us all through the universal language of a simple smile… Actually, hundreds of simple smiles.
We arrived at Wanji’s home, after taking a flight of stairs never seen by the light of day. Lisa & I were graciously welcomed as we met Wanji’s neighbors & friends. We walked to the balcony to observe life in the slums from above. Catherine shared the intricacies of life In Kariabungi. Despite conditions you can’t imagine, the smiles & the joys expressed from all generations place unimaginable joy in your heart.
Wanji, Sandra (age 6), Adelheid (age 7), & Irene walked us through more of Kariabungi. We passed the community center, a large building with broken windows & just enough coverage to host yoga classes, & through the soccer field where we were greeted my the most cheerful boys I’ve met thus far. Pictures & poses summed up the followed 10 minutes, as each & every one of them hammed it up for the camera! A local young man, Steve, took quite a liking to me with hardly knowing my name. “Are you single?”, he asked “Because I am”! People certainly have no fear in speaking their minds here, or in connecting through eye contact. I love them for it.
We passed though a larger street, as the chorus of “How are you?”s, seemed to grow louder & louder. With each little question my heart became more & more full. The sweetness alone in greeting us with “How are you?” vs. “Mambo”, “Sa-sa” or “Hello” made me smile more than you can believe. Imagine living & knowing no life other than that of the slum. Imagine the happiness & joy that can be created by such innocence. There is such beauty & possibility visible through the smiles on the faces of these unforgettable faces.
We arrived back to Wanji’s home just as the heavens really opened up, but alas it is a blessing to be rained on according to the locals. Then, the fun really began. Scarlett, age 3, greeted us after waking from her nap. According to Wanji & Esther, this little young one has to be told that she will get to visit “White people” in order to get her to eat. She was thrilled to see us, though with a language barrier, we decided dance was the best form of communication.
The afternoon was spent dancing, singing & watching the sweet kids perform the minutes away. I’m telling you, I think I found heaven on earth. My cheeks were aching & I’m almost certain my dimple (yes, I only have one) doubled in size… I could not contain my smile. Then sweet baby Tully (age 1.5), daughter of AYP teachers Patrick & Catherine, came to visit us. I instantly scooped her up from Irene’s arms & held her on my lap as we continued to watch the performances.
My heart strings pulled when Wanji & Irene came back to take us to the cab that would return us back to the Westlands. I was so sad to be leaving so many tiny, beautiful souls full of immeasurable joy & possibility. I rest assured knowing that I will be able to visit these little ones again on Wednesday, along with hundreds of other little ones at AYP’s outreach programs this week.
My life will never be the same, as the simplest phrase, “How are you?” has taken on a meaning larger than I ever could have dreamed.
With love, light & joy beyond belief, Katy Mason
]]>I’m enjoying the Kenyan food so far, though simple, it’s certainly tasty! There’s a lot of rice, beans, kale, chapati, stewed potatoes, French fries (chips) and of course, the signature, so I’ve been told, ‘must-have’ Kenyan staple: Ugali.
Ugali consists of cornmeal boiled in water, stirred until it creates a sot of paste, forming a large ball or cake and that’s it. You tear off pieces, roll them into a ball in your hands, stick your thumb in a part of the ball to create a crevice and then you dunk this into your kale (also known as Sukuma wiki); a simple, yet dense necessity to the local diet. Apparently, you can eat Ugali for breakfast and it’s so heavy and solid that you won’t have to eat again until dinner. I disagree. Irene and Billy made Katy and I this delicacy the other afternoon and I was happy to eat dinner later that evening (but of course, that could just be me, if you know me well, you know how much I love my food!).
Another aspect about Kenyan food is that there isn’t as much of focus on the caloric value of each meal. As Billy says, food is food- you eat it. I like this, and I wish us North Americans could feel comfortable adopting this approach to our meals. People don’t worry about staying excessively thin and trim here. A woman with a bit of meat on her bones is considered to be beautiful…YES! Isn’t this the way it should be?
Also, the customary approach to a meal involves sitting down, and as soon as your food arrives, you eat and you don’t talk. It is actually considered rude to talk during your meal. This is so interesting. The AYP teachers were giggling during my etiquette workshop because there are so many cultural differences that we both couldn’t believe. I was, however, very touched over the past few days as I’ve observed many of these new friends attempting to apply all of their new-found table manners during our daily lunch. Forks and knives, napkins, elbows off the table, full conversation, chewing properly before taking another bite- incredible! My friend Faith told me that she went right home after the workshop and taught her sister these new skills so they can go out to nice restaurants and eat comfortably.
Yesterday, Billy, Auma, Sadick, Katy, Hassan and I had lunch at the National Theatre in the Artist’s Cafe. I ordered the fish with chapati. After I placed my order and the server had brought us our hot towels to wash off our hands, I peered at the man sitting at the table across from me and noticed that he too, had ordered the Tilapia. Alas, I didn’t realize it would be a full, skin-on, with the head, eat with your fingers kind of a fish. I decided to be open and go for it, ‘Kenyan-style’. The fish came, I dug in, ate everything except for the head. Billy took one for the team by eating that part of my lunch. Apparently, eating the head of the fish makes you clever…Oh well, I’ll have to increase my IQ some other way.
After teaching a packed, juicy, sweaty, fun-filled and energizing 2 hour, Saturday morning class at Sarakasi, I had the pleasure of trying Mokimo. As I asked the woman serving the food what this was, she replied, “Potatoes with green”. I love it! What a perfect explanation. Apparently the ‘green’ in this corn, onion and mashed potato mixture is pumpkin leaves. It’s quite yummy. I highly recommend it.
Well that’s all from Nairobi for tonight. I’m about to finish my delicious Kenyan tea, have some peas with tomatoes, onions and rice, made by our gracious host, Miss Auma, and then it’s off to bed…
Love, Light and ‘Sweet Dreams’ to Everyone,
~Lisa Clark
]]>My experience thus far, has opened my eyes & taught me more about myself than I could’ve imagined in such a short time. I’ve laughed, I’ve cried, I’ve made amazing new friends & become part of a family that I will share a connection with for the rest of my life.
Aside from the wonder of being in the company of the radiant smiles of all of the AYP teachers, I’ve spent my fair share of time in the WC the last few days. Thus my delay in blogging… And among countless new friends, Immodium & Pepto Bismol are right there at the top of the list. It’s so frustrating to have some of my experiences be tainted by the fact that my tummy is singing non-stop, but I’ve come to terms with it & continue to hold hope that it will pass swiftly.
Despite my tummy troubles, this morning I woke up with kid’s yoga tunes & games playing in my head as I prepared to teach a Children’s Yoga Workshop to the AYP Teachers. Unsure of what the morning would hold, I set up paper plates & crayons & had the teachers set to work creating their suns.
The teachers giggled & glistened as purple, pink & blue streaks marked their canvases. As I led a class, identical to one that I would lead for children, radiance was bursting from every teacher in our circle.
I shared my knowledge & wisdom learned from Next Generation Yoga’s founder, Jodi Komitor. The training I completed with sweet Jodi in April lit up my life & it was inexplicably inspiring to share passionately what I learned with the AYP teachers.
Through the eyes of the teachers present, the workshop left them feeling inspired, wise, happy, playful, knowledgeable, childlike, playful, light, & empowered. My world, my life & my self took on a new meaning as I listened to their words of gratitude & joy.
I continue to be lifted up, inspired & encouraged by each and every AYP teacher every morning. I can’t express my gratitude & appreciation for this opportunity to be here as an Ambassador for AYP. Tummy troubles or not, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world than right here with my Kenyan Family.
With Love & Light, Katy Mason
]]>Everyone here is incredibly generous. It seems that the Kenyan ‘way’ is to invite you into their lives with open arms saying, “Welcome! You are welcome!” When you’re sitting at the Hare Krishna temple eating lunch and you want to share the heaps of food you put on your plate, you say, “Karibu! Welcome, welcome…have some”. This is just one example of the eager spirit to be friendly, gracious and welcoming that is so obviously a huge part of this beautiful culture and Katy and I felt this warmth and support today in our first workshop at Sarakasi in Ngara…
Katy and I are still attempting to sync our sleep patterns with this side of the world, but let me tell you, being woken up at 4am by the guy sweeping the driveway for an hour and a half doesn’t really help! It’s so interesting observing daily life and standards in this country. People take good care of themselves. Everyone on the street looks neat, clean and well-dressed and it doesn’t matter if they came from a home with electricity or running water, there is a self-respect that is evident and this made me feel a bit ‘slobby’ walking to the mall in my yoga clothes yesterday. Every morning when Hassan comes by to drive us to our daily location, he spotlessly cleans the car inside and out. I jokingly asked him this morning if he would mind coming to Canada to give my car a clean. Despite the mud, dust and pollution on these streets, our car sparkles! The same theory applies for the up-keep of homes and even driveways for example. A 4am sweep is quite common to ensure that the ‘home’ is respectfully clean and welcoming. I actually think us ‘westerners’ could learn something from this. We are genuinely lazy at times. I mean, when was the last time I cleaned my car and swept my driveway. It certainly wasn’t yesterday!
Once our car sparkled, the driveway was clean and we had ‘taken’ our tea and breakfast, we were off to Ngara for the first workshop of the Ambassador visit. I found myself feeling anxious and slightly nervous- Would I be able to offer something useful? Would I be able to communicate clearly? Would I inspire? Then…I woke up and realized that I’ve been waiting my whole frieken’ life for this opportunity to share myself, (the good, bag and the ugly) with these people. I decided to leave my worries at the door because how is that serving me or these people who are taking the time out of their days to listen to me? A wave of excitement, calm and anticipation pulled me out of my head and useless ‘stories’ as we drove into the parking lot…
Getting ready to share my knowledge of professionalism and etiquette, (from the viewpoint of a North American), I was standing in the AYP office printing some information and greeting the teachers as they arrived. I was warmly introduced to Sami, an AYP teacher who is considered to be one of the best African dance teachers in the community. Alas, how could I let that slide by without a request for a dance, so we were whisked away, into the big red room to join the rest of the teachers for an impromptu African dance warm-up. It was fabulous! If you know me, you know that I love to dance. Karen…I thought of you as I was up there flailing my arms and legs to the sweet beats. This was a perfect way to come together, laugh, sweat and smile before the offering.
To my surprise, the workshop was a great success. This morning was my turn to lead the workshop and I was deeply honoured to share my knowledge and experience to ensure that these already powerful teachers could become even more inspiring in their communities. We started the day focusing on the definition of team, setting up the week by creating ground rules in order to support, listen generously and respect everyone participating. We decided to hold each other accountable for our ‘way of being’ during the session and I hope this can be integrated into the weekly AYP meetings so everyone can feel seen, heard and valued. Next, we set our one-year goals, wrote them down, shared them, clearly stated them to the whole group and followed this with a short visualization where we created our experience of living our goals in the present, physically, in our bodies, instead of as a distant wish.
The next topic was ‘table manners’. Mom, this one’s for you- I guess all those years of you nagging me to sit up straight and remove my elbows from the table finally paid off!!!!! It was interesting to share the North American perspective on fine dining. After setting up a mock dining table, with napkins, cutlery and glass-wear and running through the typical etiquette that so many of us have become so accustomed to that we take for granted, I was swamped with questions. This surprised me and I felt a sense of pride in having the opportunity to offer new skills to a different culture. One of the teachers shared at the end of the lesson that she was so happy to now feel comfortable to walk into a classy restaurant and feel confident that she knows how to act. WOW. I didn’t realize the impact that this could have. My favorite part of the workshop was the suggestion at the end, that all of the participating teachers should be invited to attend a dinner at an upscale restaurant in order to apply what they learned. Paige- what do you think? Hehe
We concluded the morning with a discussion on professionalism, personal grooming, punctuality and customer service. All in all, I feel it was a great success, and I think a few of us may even have had some fun. I want to thank the teachers who participated this morning. Your willingness to listen, learn and immediately apply the suggested ground-rules was inspirational. I can’t wait for the next one…
But, tomorrow is a National holiday so we will all be taking an official day of rest. Katy and I are hoping to visit the Elephant Sanctuary and maybe take a little visit to the roof-top pool that Billy pointed out on our walk yesterday. That’s the latest from Nairobi-did I mention this place is awesome, because it is. It’s AWESOME!
PS. My new favourite Swahili word is: TANGAWIZI (meaning GINGER)
~Lisa C.~
]]>Namaste.
Bryan Mungai
]]>Soon after community yoga class on Saturday, Don approaches me. He asks whether my project on telling people’s stories is still on. I am excited but I wasn’t quite prepared for what he was going to say next. It turns out he is a 24 year old male who could easily pass for an 18 year old. He has sickle cell anaemia.
His story reads like a medical miracle. On a routine visit to the doctor, he was told he needed to do some form of exercise. Lucky for him, he had just been to Sarakasi and had learnt about yoga. He told this to his doctor who encouraged him to take it up.
Sickle cell anaemia, as a hereditary disease, prevents someone from doing what other ‘normal’ people do. Tasks that we take for granted, such as running, are a tad more difficult for him.
When I ask him how yoga has helped him, he responds that he enjoys it because it is a personal experience, it his practice. His friends and family have noticed the change in his health and outlook. He has endurance, and can do the whole two hour sequence comfortably.
Thanks to yoga, he feels ‘normal’ again.
That is the miracle of yoga.
Brenda Orata
]]>His story reads like a medical miracle. On a routine visit to the doctor, he was told he needed to do some form of exercise. Lucky for him, he had just been to AYP and had learnt about yoga. He told this to his doctor who encouraged him to take it up.
Sickle cell anaemia, as a hereditary disease, prevents someone from doing what other ‘normal’ people do. Tasks that we take for granted, such as running, are a tad more difficult for him.
When I ask him how yoga has helped him, he responds that he enjoys it because it is a personal experience, it his practice. His friends and family have noticed the change in his health and outlook. He has endurance, and can do the whole two hour sequence comfortably.
Thanks to yoga, he feels ‘normal’ again.
That is the miracle of yoga.
Brenda Orata
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