The Shamba

At around 6:15, the sun rises directly over the tallest of five peaks, the waters of Lake Victoria reflecting a vibrant blue to the North and South. Roosters start greeting the day at around 3am and by 5, goats, cows, song birds and babies have all joined to make a strangely harmonious chorus. By 7, the residents of Rusinga Island are busy settling into the rhythm of the day as their heavy hoes break the earth.

This shamba, or home, has 40-50 bananas trees lining one side of the plot while young mango and papaya sprout along the other. Aloe Vera grow in the empty spaces and soon corn will cover whatever open ground is left. One massive tree, thick and gnarled, guards the main entrance.

Two dogs, both rescued strays, the older covered in scars, the younger, thin and a bit aggresive, weave through the chickens pecking the dust to find breakfast. Cats often lay in the walkways, immobile and indifferent. A lone donkey munches on the grass and occasionally lifts its sad head.

Two main structures rest on Alphonce's shamba, his compound. Alphonce is the Kenyan director of Kageno, where I am working. The larger of the two consists of four bedrooms made from concrete and a steel roof. Two small beds and a tiny table inhabit my room as well as a number of geckos and a good deal of spiders. At one end of the house hangs a tarp that provides privacy for the shower - a large bucket and old plastic food container. The smaller building is a sitting area with a high thatched roof where Alphonce and guests eat dinner. An outside cooking area stands to the north and 10-15 meters from the sitting area is the pit latrine.

Extending from the roof of the main house is a pipe that runs from the gutters into a 5,000 liter basin. Rain collects here and provides potable water for showering and drinking. A massive basket, 5 feet tall and 3 feet wide, rests on a wooden platform and awaits the harvest.

Once the sun sets, the voices of fisherman preparing for a night's work drift up from the beach and the words of Linford Detweiler seem fitting:

I'm thinking of a place now
Where I used to have to tell myself
Aloud,
Those are not clouds,
They're stars.

While in Kenya, this place is my home. I am so very, very fortunate.