I slept straight through and was up all excited for the day ahead. Breakfast was fruit and coffee, we met the team at the gates of the resort. I was assigned to the south forest group, apparently I look ‘big and strong’, hmmm, what would I be doing?
It took about 40 minutes to get to the edge of the forest, and then an hour and a half of climbing, crawling and walking to get to our destination. We saw a few monkeys and lots of different types of birds. Apparently there were lots of baboons in the area, none to be seen though.
It was getting hot and I was half way through my first litre of water by the time we took a brief break. One of the guys, Tom, a Canadian 19 yr old proudly sat sharpening his machete. Next was my turn, I worked hard on my blade, copying the other volunteers.
The plan was to cut a straight transect in to the forest for 90 meters. Then, at a later date a team would station themselves there to observe and record the wildlife activity.
After a few hours of hacking away (and at one point just missing my thigh!) we packed up and started with journey home. It was very hot and tough going. Then we got lost. As the forest was surrounded inland by the local village and by the beach on the coast we were never in danger – but it still stressed me out! Especially at one point when we had a break, got up, walked for 20 minutes then ended up in the same spot. I was disappointed in myself for not noticing that we had walked in a big circle.
Eventually the forest started to clear and we ended up in the outskirts of the village. I noticed a kid, about 14 yrs old was walking behind us. As he over took I said hello and we ended up chatting. The English premier league is very popular in Kenya. We talked about Rooney, Torres and other hero’s. The kids name was Husain and he plays for the Samba Boys every Saturday afternoon. At one point I asked him what the best part of living in the village, Shimoni, was. He looked at me as if I was a complete idiot. In hindsight – it was a bloody stupid question. The people had nothing. I quickly gave him a way out ‘the people, right?’ and he nodded.
We got to the centre of the village and the volunteers headed off to the house and I crossed through the town alone, towards the place I was stopping at. On the far side of the village, I heard a child shout ‘I said a boom chicka boom!’ and I nearly fell over. This is the start of a song that I learned 10 years earlier in the USA working at a summer camp, and have sung with children in the States nearly every summer since. I quickly fired the line back and enjoyed singing a silly song at the top of my lungs in the outskirts of the slum. With a huge smile on my face I headed back to shower. I wonder who taught those kids that song?
As soon as we got back one of the guys told me the next stop was a local school, the choir was warming up to sing for us. Brilliant. We arrived at the school at it was absolutely crazy. Children shot by at a million miles an hour, all kinds was going on, just like any playground anywhere in the world. There were quiet kids, sporty kids, older kids teasing each other and kids sat back watching. The big difference? The young kids wore rags and had bare feet, the playground was a big patch of mud and the classrooms were hollow.
The choir was taking shape, about 30 children gathered in the shade of a huge tree. One of the volunteers, an Irish guy was trying his best to regain order as he hung the words to the next song on one of the branches of the tree. ‘We are the World’ by Michael Jackson. The volunteer sang a line completely out of tune and asked the kids to repeat it. The next 20 min consisted of fits of laughter and awful singing from the volunteer at the front as the children looked on bewildered. The issue was not the children’s singing ability – in fact they repeated everything just as it was sang to them, rather the issue was the discrepancy between how the volunteer thought he sang and what came out of his mouth. The children actually repeated everything back to him exactly as he sang it, awfully!
Eventually the children dispersed and the head teacher called us in to his office. 10 of us gathered around a tiny desk and a huge pile of paper was plonked down in front of us. Covered in numbers. The head teacher stood back as proud as punch. Eventually it transpired that the numbers were exams results, and they were on the up and up. With the help of the volunteers everything was on the up and up.
In Kenya – school exams are in English. Lessons are generally taught in Swahili, hence there is a problem. School means at least one meal a day, a chance of a free school uniform (instead of the rags that the kids on the street had) and as the head teacher said ‘HOPE’. At 13 the children sit an exam, if they pass they can continue their education, if they fail, they are out. Therefore the work that the volunteers do is invaluable.
We headed to the gates and saw a teacher, sat in the middle of the playground reading with a child. 5 more lined up patiently. As each one finished his or her turn they scrambled off, and another one would join the line, unprompted. More volunteers would mean more kids reading, and eventually passing more exams. Even a 2 week volunteer experience can contribute to the development of the children.
That evening we headed off to ‘4 tables’ Abdullah’s restaurant. We had locally caught fish, coconut rice, cabbage and chapattis with our hands, it was the best meal I had had on the trip. The restaurant was in the middle of the village and the meal cost about £1.
What a great day.

(Source: smallerearth.co.uk)