The Duke of Titles

During some swimming competitions, swimmers may be asked for a “bio” or “history of accomplishments” so they can be read as the swimmer's name is announced. Perhaps if someone was National Champion in a certain swimming race, it would be a perfect title to jot down on the bio. Being a swimmer, I also turned in my fair share of bios, and one of my favorite things to do was to write interesting (yet true) facts about myself which have nothing really related to swimming. For example: Ranked 1st on the Cal Men's Swim team in table tennis, or 2nd place in the county spelling bee competitions in the Second Grade.

Now that I have been in Kenya for over a year, I have broadened my repertoire of skills. Here is a list of titles I can now claim upon myself, surely many of them will be very handy on a resume.

The Dung Decipherer. Whether it be a cow, goat, chicken, elephant, camel, buffalo, monkey, dog, or human, either by size or by shape and texture I have the ability to tell which animal has taken a poo. I can even give a list of uses for many of the dungs I come across.

The Green Thumb: Even without much water, my small backyard garden is showing healthy, consistent growth of tomato and kale plants. Just being among the growing vegetables gives me a sense of accomplishment, and the first time I picked and prepared vegetables for a meal entirely from my garden, I felt more proud of myself than anyone rightfully should.

The Drip Irrigator. The benefits a farmer has by implementing a drip irrigation system are substantial: less water use, better crops, preservation of the soil. The biggest negative aspect, especially for poorer farmers, is the high costs involved. One way to get around these high costs is to assemble one yourself. And I have done that. Just a bucket, a ½ inch rubber hose, a needle, a lighter, and a few plastic plugs will water 80 crops with less than $20. Now if only there was some water to put in to the bucket...

The Charcoal Maker. A very handy trick for all the times the charcoal runs out at a barbecue. With just a 200 liter metal drum, any solid biomass, and 3 hours, some fresh charcoal will be ready for use.

The Iron Stomach. When we first arrived in Kenya, the medical team warned us never to go without treating the water and always encouraged us to soak vegetables for at least 20 minutes in chlorinated water if they are to be eaten raw. After one year and some months here, I eat raw fruits and vegetables sometimes without even rinsing them, even straight from the garden. Many people I know observe the “5-second rule” where any piece of food, if dropped on the floor, is still edible if recovered within five seconds. But I dare to extend my rule...to a few days. I feel like I could drink from a dirty puddle and come away unaffected.

The Masaai Bead Weaver. Recently, a fellow volunteer taught me how to weave bead bracelets like a Maasai, and now I am teaching anyone in my village who wants to know how to do it. I was teaching one specific group of former sex workers how to make these beads, and among their group was a Maasai woman. I grinned at the irony of teaching a Maasai the very skill they are famous for – especially because I represent the demographic that purchases these beads at extraordinary prices.

The Water Harvester: Perhaps this is more of an unhealthy complex now, but any drop of rainfall from my roof puts me all hands on deck trying to save that water as if it were my very child falling to her death. Once, it started raining when I was at work. I looked outside and saw the dark clouds extending as far as I could see, so I assumed it was raining ten kilometers down the road where I lived. I instantly dropped everything I was doing, saddled up on my bicycle and furiously pedaled home so I could put my buckets, basins, and pots out under my roof. I don't think I ever cycled home so quickly, and though both my backpack and I were thoroughly soaked, it was worth it.

The Sound Sleeper: One year has thankfully granted me immunity to the morning rooster crow. I know other volunteers live near more difficult animals (donkeys in the morning could substitute large church bells), but I soundly catch my Z's until my body naturally wakes me up – at 7:30am.


It's too bad I don't have another opportunity at those swimming bios. I would have quite a few more titles to put down.