Street kids and orphaned elephants

I’ve decided orphaned baby elephants and street kids are very similar. They eat tones (literally in the elephants’ case), like to play soccer, and get very dirty very fast! On May 22^nd we went to one of my favorite places in Nairobi. The David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust rescues orphaned baby elephants and reintegrates them into the wild, just like Emmanuel Rescue Center helps street kids and reintegrates them into the community.

Most of the baby elephants’ moms have been killed by poachers. Some of the babies had to watch their mothers die and so have post traumatic stress syndrome (I’m not kidding). Their handlers have to sleep next to them each night to ensure they stay calm and healthy. Visitors can watch these babies play every day between 11 am and 12 pm, and as I watched them climb all over each other, wallow in the mud, splash in the water and kick soccer balls around I was reminded exactly of the Emmanuel boys!

Since May 22^nd is my mom’s birthday, and because she has started to complain about not having grandchildren, I decided to get her grand-baby elephant! I fostered, in her name, Makena the orphaned elephant. Makena means ‘happy girl’ and Makena is very happy when she gets to play in the mud and with the soccer ball.

Ok now on to the street kids…. On Saturday we had a very special picnic to celebrate my Babu’s (Grandpa’s) visit. At Shalome Hills, a picnic site near the center, the Emmanuel boys piled on to the play ground equipment – something they don’t have in their schools - and quickly began games of volleyball and soccer. From the look out point we could see out over the planes the Masi tribe heard their livestock on, towards Mountain Kenya and the Aberdane Forest, and spot the skyline of Nairobi. Daniel, with help from the boys, barbequed nyama choma (roasted meat) and hot dogs for the 40 Emmanuel boys and 20 children from a partner center.

Most of the children from the partner center are victims of the violence that followed the December 27^th elections in Kenya. For example three brothers, the youngest just five years old, witnessed their mother being burnt alive by their neighbors. The brothers are quieter than most of the other children and cautious of strangers, but their eyes lit up like any child when they saw the swing set and slide. It was a sweet gift to see them laughing and playing.

A picnic is a rare treat even for the Emmanuel boys. Unfortunately our budget doesn’t allow for many recreational activities and their schools don’t offer sports teams and field trips like North American schools do. So we made the most of it, playing soccer until nearly dark. I think we were all exhausted by the end of the day, but the children trekked across the hills back to the center with big smiles on their faces. It was one of those rare and precious perfect days in Kenya.

Buying a Goat and Other Blessings

To celebrate my first full day in Nairobi we decide to have a goat feast (graciously funded by Auntie Janet, as the boys call her). Now goat buying isn’t a simple exercise. Daniel and I head up to Kiserian, a small community not far from Emmanuel Center were the very edge of Nairobi’s suburbs reach Masi-land. The market is a dusty square filled with the smell of animals and garbage. Masi women, with shaven heads and dozens of beaded necklaces around their long necks, sit on the edges selling tea and snacks. Within 30 seconds of stepping out of the vehicle Daniel and are surrounded by Masi goat sellers and young men wearing whites coats stained with blood (the goat butchers). Each seller is dragging a goat by the ear, horn or hoof. The sellers stretch the poor beasts’ gums to show us their teeth and pinch the fleshy stomachs. Bartering begins with each seller pressing closer and closer to us until Daniel and one seller are leaning over a very large goat, whispering in each others ears. They break away from the group for final negotiations, leaving me surrounded by men with ear lobes stretched to their shoulders. Everyone is staring at the strange white woman (me).
The goat sale is finalized and the rejected animals are dragged towards other potential customers. Our goat is carried mercilessly to the slaughter house. As Daniel and I follow, I ask about the sticks many people are chewing on. Daniel explains the Matasi sticks are a natural toothbrush and buys us each one. We scrape off the bark and chew the end till it is frayed. As I rub the end of the stick on my gums (something in it gives of a sort of tingling feeling) I remember how all the travel books warn against eating unwashed fruit – I wonder if chewing on strange sticks is equally dangerous.
I almost gag as we enter the slaughter house. Cow and goat carcasses hang from the ceiling. The floor is sticky with congealed blood. Young men are pulling the innards out of the animals and others are hacking them into pieces for roasting.
Within 30 minutes we have our goat (now in roasting size pieces) and head back to Emmanuel Center. At the center we are welcomed by many happy boys. Meat is a special treat as, like most Kenyans, their diet generally consists of maize, beans, lentils, rice and vegetables. (Though the Emmanuel boys do like to brag to their classmates that they get to eat three whole meals a day!)

As the goat roasts I sit in the shade and watch the boys play football. I watch one 12 year old boy running and laughing, and I remember meeting him on the streets three years ago. In those days he had the same big smile, but was sickly, filthy and addicted to glue. We brought him to the center and he ran away at least three times, unable to beat his addiction. When Daniel finally told him it was his last chance, somehow he found the strength to endure the withdrawal symptoms (migraines, chills, nausea…) of glue, and he never went back to the streets again. Instead he started school and amazed us all with his ability to make up rap songs on the spot.
It’s hard to imagine that the child I’m watching laughing and playing lived on the streets for four years, fought addictions and overcame abuse. His smile is too wide and his laugh is too loud. He is too good at football!
I think about all the fundraisers that have been held for these children, all the hard work that goes into running Emmanuel Center, all the remarkable people that give so generously in time, money and love- and I see that it is 100 percent worth it. This is what we do it for.
Before I have time to get teary-eyed remember how far Emmanuel Center has come, a plate of rice and matumbo is put in front of me. Matumbo is stewed goat intestines! I take a deep breath, and remember that before I reverted to being a soft Canadian, I used to like this special treat. I slowly chew a small rubbery piece and think that if my stomach survives his first day in Kenya I will be alright!