Elusive Kenya
People are like Gods. I am especially curious what motivates them and do not try to look and to judge too much with Western eyes. Still, even for me it was not easy to understand the motives of the people here in Kenya…

And I have quite some experience in this field I may say! Why are those beautiful people so dependent on money. They sit in church every Sunday, but actually their main God is money. Kenya is on top of the most corrupt countries. Our development funds disappear into invisible back pockets and usually do not reach where they should come. For example, a number of hotels here on the coast are built of our development funds. So let us stop with that! A politician earns a capital and usually enriched himself and his family. Votes for the upcoming elections are already being purchased. In short, from low to high, everybody does it and to nobody it looks evil. Everybody knows, but nobody will change it because after all everyone is doing it!
And if a poor devil, or even not a poor devil, sees a white one is that the ultimate saviour. Something in there brains begin to work immediately. They assume that every white man is rich and find it very natural to ask what they believe they need. And then to wait until they get it or not. If not, just even good friends! In retrospect it is now clear that the whole green house project was put on paper to seduce me, simply to enrich themselves. Rather coarse material, but that’s pretty normal here. After Bishop  Michael Bishop of the Agobe-church had completely taken away the ground under the project by his incredible action in the church, I asked him to repay the money. In response, I received a letter from his lawyer in my mail box! Here too, I no longer lie awake of it!
Few, especially here around Mombasa, come up with the idea that their own situation could change if they would take the matter into their own hands. In short, these wonderful people made themselves incredible self-dependent and subordinate. Dreaming is something everyone enjoys, but every dream demands for an action, people does not seem to understand. In their eyes wealth has to do with money and it feels twisted contradictions when you see how happy and radiant people move outwardly…

Sharing is normal
I take Ali for breakfast. He orders a cup of tea and a chapatti. He tears down a great piece and gives it to the son of the breakfast shop.
Dennis bought a big fish for our day at the beach. Eventually we eat with six. The energy exchange is that today we do not prepare it ourselves! An old woman steps into the matatu (bus). She can not pay the bus fare. Eu, eu, Dennis said. He takes his last shilling out of his pocket and pays for her if it is the most natural thing in the world. And that’s it for him! Just so happy he asked me later that day to pay his fare for the matatu to go home!
One moment we were alone, in a split of a second we are surrounded by bright, laughing, playing children. Little beggars we would say. I have a delightful afternoon. The meal of cassava with coconut, not really my thing, goes mostly into the empty stomachs  of the kids. Quite naturally. In short, little or much, everything you have is naturally shared!

Independent
Young people leave their families because they no longer want to marry a Kenyan (se). Women want a caring white man. How did they get that idea? That’s not so crazy as it looks like. What they see here is the white in the reclining position. That looks pretty relaxed and generally the picture is not what they leave behind after closed doors and what they know from their own black men too well. Black men want an independent white woman, in the first place of course for pennies. There is still playing something else and that is hidden a bit deeper.

No voice
Here in the south and in rural areas the man pays still a dowry for his wife in the form of a male goat, palm wine, corn flour and money. De women are more or less owned by their husbands and Giriama’s can have multiple wives. The most frustrating thing is they have not learned how to love. You could say that women are basically raped. Women do not know better, and have to accept. They simply have no voice. Young people wants’ this anymore but they only do not know how to change it. They are often beaten as a child and rarely hugged. Drugs and palm wine are the answer to disappear into oblivion. With all the unpleasant consequences, such as the increase in gun ownership and the nasty disease AIDS.

In that sense it is true what Daniel said to me: People are not interested in inspiration, they just want cash. And yes that goes far. I dare to say that they in no way are interested in me, as a human. Let stand in what I have in my backpack!

This sounds pretty negative, but it’s not. They’re just facts and nothing else. I express no judgment of good or evil!
I started to investigate how it worked in other countries I’ve been active, such as Indonesia, Curacao and South Africa. Lets take the last one, it less played there. The people, mostly women but also youngsters, whether or not infected with AIDS, were highly motivated in order to develop and showed me a huge power. They did not start to ask directly for money, allthough we have, both Margaret in Indonesia as Sister Mary in South Africa supported ultimately with pennies, but in this order! That’s why it probably worked there and usually not here.

Belief systems
Kenyans first have to change their belief systems. As long as people are convinced they are poor, they behave poor. According to Pauline, Kenya is still a third world country and you should people constantly activate. Kenya reminds me of Curacao. I confronted the people there because they were still behaving like slaves the way they treated the whites ones. People here also still behave like slaves. They like to be saved, especially by the white muzungu. Every white man is born rich, has a plastic card and can have unlimited money out of the wall! People do not know their own strength, have not learned to take responsibility for their own lives and give their responsibility, read their LIFE, out of hands. And that is fare for politics and churches and all other people who are after power…

Plaster
Giving money is an easy solution. It is not really different from sticking a plaster on a wound without taking the sting out of it. Even if you give a average guy here on the coast one million, within a year he is back at the beach at the same level as before. Pure poverty. And maybe unaware that is what he wants. No money and no worries…

The dependence of whites, politics, and churches is enormous. The latter have become business here. Anyone can set up a church and at the end of each service, people are more or less pushed to give money. And they are often standing before the altar, blessed by the priest, so everyone can really see how well they behave.
Then there is another serious block and that are the various tribes. Perhaps that is the biggest stumbling block in the African culture. People from another tribe are not ‘my people’. The trunk is actually the anchor point to distinguish yourself. We seem to need an enemy to manifest and to conform ourselves. Apparently you would say that the various tribes quite accept each-other. It does not take much to get it to explode.
The Mombasa area calls itself the peace part of the country and they like to be independent, but actually they need northern blood desperately to make changes possible.
– And then there is of course the fact of faith and superstition…

Witchcraft
Although Kenyans put their entire faith in the hands of God, witchcraft is still common in Kenya, especially in Mombasa area and in the countryside. Kavu’s brother hanged himself. He was successful, maintained the whole family and became from one moment to the other crazy!
Jealousy lies as the undermining root of this! It is almost impossible to distinguish yourself within your family. It is not tolerated. Young people leave their families to look for a job elsewhere, because once they are successful within their villages and families, they are restrained by forces from the area, such as witchcraft. If you have money or a job they expect you to maintain the whole family or the community. If you leave your country to be successful abroad and you mother doesn’t like that, witchcraft is used to retrieve return home. The family keeps the individual imprisoned. Savings and future thinking is not a part of the system. How beautiful the picture of family and residential communities may seem, the reality is often a bit else…

Complicated
It’s all a bit complicated. In essence, Kenyans are not greedy. It is shameful and even thrilling to see that they always share something from the little they have. How they feed the others first before they eat themselves, even if they are hungry. Undoubtedly the white man has introduced the begging. The tourist likes to go into the villages to distribute candy and cola. On the beach, the cola has grown to complete houses and matatu’s. And so the trouble began. If children see a white person they ask for candy, adults asks for money. This happens without any shame, and is an ingrained self-evident. As obvious as we find it to be looked after by our welfare state! Places like Mwtapa are quite spoiled.
And of course you can not deny that there is no work. The boys do not hang for nothing on the beach. That’s just because they have not anything else to do …

One and the same
The more I deepen in this matter, the more I reach the conclusion that everywhere you will find one and the same pattern. Money is less an issue for us. We live in a society we are taken care for from cradle to grave. In Kenya, everyone has to scrape their own things together, yes literally to scrape. But even within our community you will find jealousy frequently and it is not tolerated if you try to reach your head above the crowd. It works a bit more subtle than here in Kenya, but you should be firm in your shoes would you defy the downturn!

Dependence
The point of this whole story is dependence. And although the form is apparently different, the essence everywhere in the world is the same. Here or with us, we all behave more or less like slaves. We are dependent on the image we create our physical reality. That image we cherish and we adore it! It is the so called golden calf.
We keep saying we want change, but basically we just want to preserve what is old and familiar. We have our divinity, our creativity subordinated to the system. We have given ourSelves away. In the Western world we call these systems, banks, politics, weather, economy, pensions, and aid organizations that have taken over the place of churches.

Modern slavery
Politics and churches have created a handy network to catch the ordinary man. Modern slavery. The poor man likes to blame the government or the corrupt government for his situation. So no need to put his hand in his own pocket, and he does essentially stabbing in miniature what he accuses others. Because education is a huge problem, it is difficult to have insight into what’s really going on. And the training that people usually get does not include this core problem.

Mirror
I really hate to throw everything on a heap. Not all churches are exploiting people. Not all priests are rapists and not all ministers are corrupt. This generality is too often used by people who have not experienced those things by themselves but are blindly following the media and certainly they are not willing to meet their own faces in their own mirror. Worldwide, it are still the religious who take care of the children in the streets, the homeless, etc. In South Africa and India I have seen it with own eyes and experienced it with own hands…

Liberation
To truly liberate ourselves from the bonds of slavery, every man much awake for himself. When the individual is waking up and steps out of the group, in this case the family, the group will change. This asks for the courage of a lion. Rather, we keep ourselves trapped in a life-long slavery than to stabbing our heads above the parapet and to leave the field. The price is rather high, I know from experience. And there is no prospect of a reward. It is simply closing your eyes and jump in full trust  that you are catched. Anyway, when the time comes, there is no turning back. Then you go, whatever the consequences might be. And then and only then, it has some value. Because then the change is a true fact and rooted in your true essence. Loneliness is the price you have to pay for that decision, at this point you no longer can call it a decision. I prefer to call it evolution. You’re an outcast, no longer you belong to the group because you are a living threat to the carefully constructed order. But somewhere inside you know that you are doing well and that is a joy that rises above everything else. A joy you will experience after you fully have experienced and went through all your old fears and have changed your carefully constructed beliefs systems. And then you are in all respects ready for the transition…

Gateway to liberty
Church and state create ingenious systems to get the mob in the grip. That inside those systems the road to true freedom is hidden, most people do not realise. Because of there continual kicking against the walls, they do not see that every wall has flaws, which represent the gateway to freedom. At the moment we stop fighting and no longer are willing to point our finger outward, but take time to sit back, we suddenly see the weaknesses in the siege raised. Without any difficulty there is opening the way out, the road to true freedom.
They are ultimately the same structures that will free us if we continue to see the patterns. In short, it is apparently impossible to realize that we are essentially free, wherever we are, before we lived in a certain way, acquired, experienced and realized. The freedom that is offered to us by others, practitioners or gurus, remains a kind of surrogate.

Dependence
The core of the problem is found in every human being. As long as we need something from anybody else, we have forgotten who we really are. But by the feeling that we need somebody else, we grow slowly but surely towards independence. In short, we must apparently first completely under the spell of our slavery, before we begin to experience an inner urge to free ourselves. And that liberation begins where it always begins. Blame everyone for your situation, shout it from the rooftops and go to attack the enemy, sometimes using the fist. What occurs during this whole process is vulnerability and strength. You show yourself and come out of your cave. And while you have your fist in the sky to the other to give the final blow, he remains suddenly stabbing in the air and awareness begins to trickle. You see that your enemy is not your enemy, but your mirror that will set you free from slavery. And then comes the next challenge around the corner and it’s called fear. What if you have contested your whole life just an imaginary enemy? Well what! Nothing to worry about. We all do. Till we reach the point that it is no longer necessary…

Who am I
And now comes the question who am I, what do I feel, what do I experience! I have the guts to walk my own path, regardless of the opinion of my family and friends, politics, the church, the new age movement or whatever. Oops, that’s not nothing, your tummy  goes trembling  of it and your voice starts to stutter. But dare to feel it and cry about it. All that time you have been your own nemy AND that what you have created between your two ears. That was your safety. Your evidence to others that in any case you was right. And that does not work anymore. Shit! No longer you can blame anybody, no longer you can prove you are right – what to do now – Help!

No longer you have ready made answers to all questions you get  bombarded with and just you say with shivers in your stomach because you’re afraid they will find you stupid: I really do not know!

Quick answers
And there are not. There are no ready made  answers. Each answer raises up a new question. We can only act in this moment. And any time requires a different action.

Living in the moment as people do here is something divine. For us Westerners it is the ultimate redemption. For people not living in a welfare society, it is a drama!

Anyway, I can not resolve anything for another. I can only walk my own path and by trial and error, be a living example which others can emulate. And believe me, that is more than enough for me…

Conclusion
As I learn to be part of life here, I understand more of the people. As we are entangled in various patterns and habits is asking here just a habit. No you have already, yes you can get. Just even good friends. Nobody looks ugly to you. Sharing is also a habit. You are responsible for your family. Outside the family the caring stops. On the beach there is also a kind of family. If necessary, you support each other. Like John. He has AIDS. The boys have raised money for drugs so he can keep on doing his work. The one in the family who has money is the dupe. Like Daniel. He comes from a poor family and has reprocessed. Now he maintains the whole family. His mother and the rest of his seven brothers and sisters simply sit on their ass waiting until he pays the rent and school fees for their children. Is it any wonder he has such different faces? That I have seen regularly. Bishop Michael of Agobe-church literally changed from an archangel in a devil when I invited him for an interview. His ego was so hurt that he in front of the church made public my personal mail with the intent to subvert me completely. What he got was the ultimate undermining of the project itself. Although women are not supposed to open their mouths, they leave the church by now. Similarly, my very dedicated Motorman. At the moment I asked Bishop to repay the money, he sent me and threatening letter from his lawyer. One big lie. Too bad for him: I am no longer sensitive to these kind of actions. Believe me, otherwise I really had a problem! Thank you Kenya! I am immune to all disharmony around me.

Nakupenda sana
And maybe it will surprise you, but I feel at home here as a fish feels in the water. Every morning in the dark I’m on the road to the beach. I am not afraid of nobody! Before I take the path I seesaw just inside the shack of Mary to give her a hug: Nakupenda sana – I love you very much! And that is just how it is and was already there before I paid the tuition of her daughter. I leave my bag at the beach, walk, meditate, swim, do my exercises and teach Dennis, a real Giriama, Qigong. You see the change in him. His angular body gets even curves! But from one moment to the other also he can change from light to dark! Fortunately he is willing to look to it…

Shameless
People ask for everything without any form of shame. I have to get used to the self-evident that everything what is mine is also theirs. I am raised that I’d rather die then do admit that I need something from someone else. But, believe me, that’s also just a habit. Nothing more and nothing less. All you have you share. So why should I not share? And I would like to share. The boys know it, so they come to me if they have problems. But not only then. If I go back on the path, most of the boys come to the beach. The loving greetings are sincere. No business for Mama Africa! Thursday we gave all beach boys a free meal. This is my farewell to them. They have given me more than many ‘normal’ person. And they have taught me more! And undeniably I love them all. Still I walk my own way. It is unprecedented that a woman like me every day roams on the beach and has no bodyguard. I am my own bodyguard, but have many bodyguards. The boys and the girls watch over me. At the beach, in the matatu, everywhere. And I feel safer here than anywhere else. And full of life. Every moment I sparkle of energy, despite the fierce heat of this period. Life or Love flows through me in an continuing flow. Life here is quite complicated, tough, simple and divinely beautiful all at once. There is no room for luxury problems. No question what you should like to eat that day. That is simply pap and ougali if you already have something to eat! No question if you’ll do yoga today, attending a witch ritual or like to visit a spiritual fair. Walk ten kilometres every day and that keeps your body fit and your mind relaxed. The churches are not just places where people are exploited, it is the weekly outing for almost everyone. There is no more! And singing is a great strength.
I am privileged. I can choose. I can even buy lettuce, even though I have to go for it to Mtwapa and the quality is so bad that our shop would never sell it. They never eat it, and I’m really pleased! The sea is my sanctuary where I feel more divinity than in any church. Every morning I see the sunrise. Pure magic. I love this country, I love the people. I love myself and they love me. And now not only because of the pennies!

Dear Lazarus and Selpha. If you continue to transform your daughter Faith into a beggar then we cut down our relationship by now…
They are shocked. As a foster parent I am up in order to solve all their needs, is not it? Meanwhile, they like me, they appreciate my company and they even like to cook a nice meal for me. Faith flies in my arms when she sees me without asking for anything. I love them dearly. Thank you for what you really have given us, they say from their hearts…

Seed
Changes happen slowly. Everyone says he/she wants to change, but when push comes to shove, the price is too high and it is much safer to just stay where you have been. Essential changes are not occurring in groups, but take place in the individual. If the person has more than enough of all this he is ready for the transition. And it is this one seed which will grow into a big tree and will fertilize other seeds. And that’s not good or bad, that is simple as it IS …

Mungu Akubariki – May God bless your …

Yasmin – Mutanu: Akamba-name given to me – it means JOY.
Kenya, March 27 – April 15 2012

(E) Bookshop

The circle has completed
Suddenly everything is crystal clear. The circle has completed. I see myself back in September last year with Daniel and Bishop Michael. It is time for Kenyans to take care for the Kenyans…

They fully agreed. Then they put a beautiful plan in scene for those three months so no need for me to sit on my ass! As if I had planned for that! But in all respect it was unique. Thanks to their preparations I have experienced in a short time more of Kenya than many Kenyan! Lots of thing became clear and even as much still stayed unclear. But one thing is certain: the circle has completed. I’m back where I started: let Kenya take care of the Kenyans. I want to inspire people if necessary and when it can be received. Beyond that, basta! If you think now that nothing happened because little visible appears to have changed, then you are really wrong! I am completely satisfied with the whole process and very grateful that I will leave no visible trace here in Kenya. I walk my talk, sow a seed here and there, pull the occasional weed from the ground and all that time I really do only one thing: enjoying and polishing, using increasingly finer sandpaper.

Honestly, I’ve never felt so good in circumstances where I humanly seen should feel pretty frustrated! I can say that something is put in motion. I felt a few weeks ago suddenly what it was. I do what I should do but no longer I let use myself by anyone. I’m in control of everything – without any desiring to have something in hand!

Advocate
After the existing project fell swoop to the ground by the action of bishop Michael, Esther and I decided to take her existing group as a starting point. Something in me was still a little doubtful, while I knew that I walked this whole process to give Esther a base. She has the qualities to be an advocate and an example for women to follow. She is from here, although Mombasa not actually belongs to Kenya, so in that sense she is not from here. But precisely the blood from up-land is necessary to make the necessary changes! She started her relationship with me out of the same dependence as the average Kenyan who sees a white man: rescue me, please find an outlet for our products. That was not were I came for! Now Esther is no longer the same as three months ago. (So do I – haha …). Some belief systems she just hung on the peg. By now we are ready to work together. First I had to take all the bumps to know that I can trust Esther as I trust myself…

Every person has two or more faces. As strong as it is in Kenya I have never experienced before. Small examples are Daniel and the bishop. After my request to pay the money back I already had invested in the project, bishop Michael just answered with a letter from his lawyer. I stay not awake of this anymore, I know by now that everything was put in scene before I arrived. No need to judge him, he himself did that already. Or as they will say here: God is doing that. The first churchgoers, including my dear Motorman Charles, leave the church by now. Yesterday Charles invited me into his family. He loves me and by now he feels free to do so!
Even with Esther, I initially suffered from this opacity. Now I can honestly say that there is an openness between us which certainly is not Kenyan. By the role she played in Big Home, the way she gave the landowners a lesson and refused her ‘commission’, she proved that she don’t wants to play this role…

On the road to independence
I share things with Esther, Kenyans not directly will associate with ‘wealthy’ Westerners. Even if you do not see it, I’ve known pure poverty myself. Literally and figuratively I was broke. I’ve managed to climb from the gutter where many never ever would come from. In short, that we can do only ourselves! Occasionally it is nice to get a loving kick under your ass now and then. I ever missed that, but now I do it regularly with others – haha. Not that everyone is so happy with it in the moment, but later I hear often: thank you so much!

Help syndrome
I don’t want people to be dependent in any way from me or from my pennies. I used that to bandy because I was infected by the help-syndrome, but I’m cured of that! Well, now I was going so well, I wanted to give the women a voice. Even this they can only do themselves. I am convinced that some of these women sooner or later will have the courage to go for it, apart from churches, apart from white ones. Esther is one of the first.

Nevertheless, I realize too well how privileged we are in the Netherlands, where each of us is assured from cradle to grave. How hard life is if every grain of food should scraped together, yes literally scraped! Simply because there is no work, there is no social safety net. Just to show you one thing: the government is using funding for development to fill their own pockets and to built large hotels abroad or on the Mombasa coast. This will never change as long as we continue to fill their plates. So let us stop the development funding! If you personally get touched, so actually you want to do something, prefer to give the rod and not fish!
– And then I feel sincerely and from the hearth that I want to stand guarantee for a base that could be translated as being self-sufficient enough to catch the fish…

Small things
Many ways have been put in movement just by being present here, in church, at the home of Esther, on the beach and not to forget the place where I live here. Small things, not significant, but still. More than enough for me. It’s the little things that make the difference – the little things that change the world!

Project

What I certainly did not want is that something would arise which would define myself. In short, I’m an inspiration, not a project manager! Not one of the projects I have supported worldwide, I have supported personally. Anyway, I could not do anything else then to put myself into the stream, an eerie but beautiful process! After all we have learned and experienced and after having lived-through my initial doubt to the bone, we go through in a stripped, polished form! The starting point is Esther and her women project. Small and workable, up to fifteen women. These women will not only give themselves a place into society, hopefully they will start to educate their children differently. The inequality between men and women in rural areas and especially here on the Mombasa coast finally can take a different turn…

Ladha ya Wanawake – The flavor of women
The registration has been completed and a bank account will be opened for my departure. We drop the name Yasmien Garden, which was a combination of our three names.
The correct translation for: ‘The flavor of Women’ shows just a different tag: Ladha ya Wanawake. A new beginnings asks for a new name. Eventually a real community project, and thanks to the ‘performance’ of Bishop now completely separate from churches. And since I am faced with practices of Bishop Michael that are beyond all imagination, I know that we should thank heaven on our bare knees of being protected so well!

Women a voice
Training is the base: Give women a voice! In addition, the women are running small businesses based on micro credit, merry go round and private banking. In the rainy season they want to hire a Shamba to grow and sell their own vegetables. By registering the project is now open for NGO fundsing of Kenya itself and that is a huge profit. Eventually they can get support from Kenya itself, so we finally will go for: Kenya for Kenyans.
We will not buy land, far too expensive, provisionally we will hire. Relatively inexpensive and a perfect way to experience or a Shamba eventually is going to fit into the overall picture…

Wings
With frequent trial and error we finally polished to a concept which is clear and workable. A project I feel confident to leave in the hands of these women without to damage my own free wings.
Your pennies go to the bank account of the Foundation. That money forms the base to set up some small projects and to pay the rent until that can happen from the proceeds of the Shamba itself. And the rest, these women will do themselves. I’m still convinced of that!
– A proportionate amount I invested in the former project, projects, lunches and a farewell party for my beach boys and girls, in the adoption of kids – paying their school fees etc.

Grateful
I flow like I have never flooded. Any obstruction of the world have not deterred me from what was truly important: ‘Stay centered in the hearth and nothing can go wrong’ or putting in into my own words: ‘Love is All That Is…’

Mungu Akubariki – May God bless you
Yasmin – Kenya
1 to 30 March 2012

(E) Bookshop

It’s still hot as I go to the beach. While I walk the trail, I met the first boys on their way home. Wow, I really love those guys, and they love me…

Many cordial greetings. It takes me quite some time to reach the beach. Finally I come to Mohammed, a Muslim and integer person. He is not really part of the rest of the herd. We talk about the mentality of the boys. They live from one day to another, not even thinking about tomorrow. To some extent that is charming! Money that comes in today, many or few, will spend today and tomorrow. But it is also a disaster in a society were is no social security. If there is something wrong tomorrow, too bad, there is no money.
Muhammad grew up with cassava. That there exists something like breakfast and lunch he actually learned from the tourist. I watch him properly. He looks very healthy. Maybe now he eats something more than only cassava, but their food is simple and one-sided I know by now. Probably it contains everything they need.

Beka
My thoughts are going back to yesterday. Said picked me up at two o’clock to take me to his home. He told his wife Isya that he had a friend on the beach, which means something like: maybe she can help us out of misery. The misery was worse than I had imagined. Said posts himself always as a happy and humble boatman. In September I went for boot ride to Copacabana and I repeated that this time. I take those guys now and then for lunch. Because I do not like to give money, I take a bag of groceries. The family rents a room in a ‘house’ where three other families live. There is nothing to eat. Besides their two children Beka and Hysin, the place is overloaded of playing kids. We sit on the porch. Isya hardly speaks English and continues with the daily load of washing. All that happens by hand, and every litre of water has to be carried. What a life! Anyway, we plunder the local store for fruit and vegetables. Not really a success. It’s Sunday and the quality is horrible. Yet they are happy. Today they will not going to sleep with hunger. After a while I get it for granted and Said and I go back to the beach. Beka of seven has found the safe spot on my lap and does not like me to go. He cries his eyes out. Okay Said, I will take this guy to the beach. We climb with four on the motorbike. First I take Beka to my home. Give him lemonade and cookies and enjoy the kid. What a beauty! Okay, up to the sea. I am touched by his confidence. He puts his fist in my hands in complete surrender. At night the water is quite rough. Shoes off and dredging through the water. He loves it. Okay, we remove the rest of the cloths and play together in the water. I carry some toys and a ball and we enjoy playing on the beach. We amuse costly. With our belly in the sand we bake mud pies…

Lunch
I get accosted by a beach boy. He said he had not yet the opportunity to talk to me. Why I do not take him for lunch. Why should I? Simply, I can not maintain all Kenyans. If I want to buy a necklace. No thank you. But I get it for a special price. Even if you give it me for nothing… Than I’ll give it you for nothing…
While playing with my small friend Beka I ask the guy: what’s your name? Ali. Ali, do you want to learn something from me? Yes. Okay, maybe it helps if you want something that you start to give something first. ‘I was not really polite is not it?’ No, you was not really polite! Why are you so sad? ‘I’ll have to walk to Mwtapa’. Gosh, let you be really lucky, I guess I just have twenty cents in my pocket for the matatu. And yes I have! A radiant Ali thanks me. Today I took him to our exclusive beach-boy-restaurant. It was his reward for being looking in the mirror so honestly. He walks a bit uncomfortable at his worn-out shoes and feels completely overwhelmed…

Acrobat
Beka wants to go back into the water. He thinks it is possible to reach the boat from his father. I fear we will not succeed, but I carry him in my arms and we just try. He wants to swim and quickly he makes natural swimming movements. Wow, if the water would be calmer, he would even swim today. This seven year old boy who speaks no English understand me perfectly. Despite a few times I barely could save a ducking, he has full confidence in me! We play for a while with the ball, laughing and joking through the sand. He feels so free that he spontaneously start making headstands, this small acrobat! I pick him up and hug him tightly and we shower together at Serena Hotel. I can afford to do this! Bring him back to his father asking him to bring him more often to the beach. It will be a blessing for both. At seven they start there journey home. It’s an hour walk. They clearly do not want to…

Every morning
Going to the beach one fond embrace with Mary, the gypsy woman from the breakfast shack on the corner. I gave her my skirt. She pays me back with unconditional love and a radiant smile: ‘I love you …’.

Dependent
I invited Gafana to dinner and asked him to take some chapattis. He could not get them. So he walked to Shanzu. To crazy! I made rice with pumpkin and some tomato-onion salad. Gafana, a Giriama with Western influences and a gentleman, knows how to enjoy his food and is a real philosopher. It’s cosy. According to him, the cause of the dependent behaviour towards tourists really started with the white ones going into the villages to buy sweets and drinks for the kids and the grown ups. According to him, children and people are like cats: teach them a behaviour and they will never change that habit…

Radiant
I walk to the beach. A man comes behind me. Wait, wait I wane talk to you. Laughing, I put my hands in the air: no, no, I just enjoy walking. Please, just talking! I know you do not want to buy anything, but you always look so radiant, you always seem happy, so I just like to talk to you. We chat a while. Okay, now if you walk along, just look inside and say hello Sammie, huh? Okay, Sammie, it is quite okay!
It’s still fairly busy on the beach and it cost me quite some time to reach the end, because my friends shear is clearly grown since I have mediated between the hassle of a white young man who quite aggressively wanted to attack my boys. Of course I could not let it go of my hand!

Kilifi
At the end, while sitting on my own at the beach, I remember the wonderful day in Kilifi, last Saturday. I had been there before with Esther to look for a plot and was so captivated by that place that I want to go back. So my weekly outing with my student Dennis, who is developing great and not only in the field of Qigong, was to Kilifi. Although I only come across them on the beach and even there they are minority, to Kilifi tourism largely passed by. There is a delightful atmosphere. I do not like Mwtapa, but Kilifi, it’s quite a trip but I would like to live there. We take breakfast in the cosy local restaurant before we go to the beach. Kilifi is located on an sea-arm, which also has its charm. The beach is full of women waiting on the fishing boats to get their serve of fresh fish for this day. We are constantly surrounded by men and boys (the girls have to work) who are not accustomed to muzungu, but I feel in no way hindered. This time no grilled fish, for there is no firewood available. We eat katsjoembari: onion-tomato salad with chapattis and bananas. Just delicious. I bought this stuff myself on the local market. Eventually the tide comes in and we can swim in the delicious clean water. We walk back to the village to hang around a little more and take the overcrowded matatu back. Dennis goes off in Kikambala and I travel to Shanzu, where I take a boda-boda to my place. I did not see a white one today. In all respect I feel incredibly at home!

One week later
… Today we eat cassava. Dennis runs up and down to his village to pick up the chest-game and repeat this later for the cassava. He returns with five offspring’s from his uncle. Within no time the boys shamelessly start to dance in their nude for me. We dig deep pits in the sand. Of course, the cassava is naturally shared. Brought up in a culture were we only feed our own belly, it is moving. Play one hour with the kids in the water. They chat hundredfold, while touching my soul. Thanks to the wind, the temperature is acceptable today. The girl, Salama, is diligently laying against me. Eventually we bring them home. I’m a bit speechless. Get many spontaneous kisses…

I enjoy the natural way how Dennis deals with his family and the kids. The naturalness with which everything is shared. In there eyes it should be quite normal that I should do the same. And I do not! Dennis loves his family very much. At the same time he wants to leave because he never can build a life for himself or save anything. As long he has hundred shillings in his pocket, they expected him to contribute. That’s the weakness in this community. Everyone relies on everyone…

Basis
I regularly find myself thinking about staying here. And despite of Kilifi I would like to make my base here, because these guys are probably my main project, the beach boys!

Faith – my foster child
A wonderful afternoon at the beach with Faith and her mother. There is growing truly friendship now they know I’m not going to play for money machine. They are sincerely grateful. Faith stopped begging and is much happier since she knows me, her mother said…

Ladha ya Wanawake – The flavor of women
This is the correct translation of the Flavour of Women. Even if you do not hear anything for the moment, the process is going through in a stripped-down form. Currently, the women must do it themselves: the registration, etc. If all goes well, all of this will happen before I fly home…

Om Shanti,
Yasmin – Kenya

(E) Bookshop

While I am walking along the beach, it strikes me that I am shining since a few days. My smile goes from ear to ear, does not even stop when I go to sleep and is still there when I get up. Behind all of that is a field where there is no restriction – there is unlimited space…

It has to do with the fact that for a number of days my body has been fearful out of harmony and suddenly I knew the reason. I wanted things being differently as they were! Without wanting to let go it compulsively, I just let go of. Not only my body feels much better, my soul is shining and brilliant as before. Not yet, it shines even more: there is another bit of insight – a little polishing…

I thoroughly enjoy my morning ritual. I wonder why the boys on the beach, in the hotel and even on the street seems always so happy to see me. I watch some tourists. Most of them ignore those guys or irritated they try to skip them as if they are flies! And as we know, this even does not work with flies! Everyone wants to be seen and recognized. First and foremost these guys. Moreover, they are just doing their job and this is their home. They have every right to be here!
I do not like to compare, simply there exist no law of the Medes and the Persians, but if I should have the guts, I would say that these guys usually have more inner civilization than many Westerners have. Sometimes tourists go beyond limits of the permissible. Most Afrikaners loke more tolerant, they seem not likely to pay the same coin back!
Africans are generally still rooted in the rhythms of nature, although they seem to lose their innocence as they have more money. In short, the sense of Mine and Yours has made its entrance. Fear of loss and shame seems to be a logical consequence.

Radiant smile
I grab my backpack to go home and look into the smiling eyes of a singing security man, named Stephen. Having no teeth not even hinders him to show his bright smile. I compliment him about his voice and there’s a wonderful exchange of energy. No, he speaks, I listen. What arrogance to think that I could learn those people something!
‘God has given me this life and I am grateful. I have a job so I can maintain my family. As a gift I love singing, so on Sunday I sing in church to praise God. For all this is not my merit, it is purely God’s. Just take this Indian Ocean. Is it no miracle? The tide comes and goes. No man can change that. Only God can. Listen to the trees. They are silent now. Where is the wind? Suddenly there is wind again and the trees start to sway. We can not change this, it is just there. Life is a miracle. There is so much to be grateful for…’

Grateful
Yes dear Stephen, there is so much to be grateful for. I feel overflowing with love for you, for your beautiful country, for all the great people I daily met, who eternal seem to shine, whether they have anything to eat or not. It is so easy to love you since I love myself unconditionally!

Occasionally I feel that it is a bit difficult to understand and appreciate people I am really close with. There are still some expectations which no doubt has to do with my vision of reality, what of course not have to be their reality! Letting be that what it is, without wanting to put a Tag on it, is still a challenge! So there is always something that can be polished without actually necessarily wanting something to polish!
The understanding, the insight, is more than enough to change what can be changed and what not can be changed to accept…

Monday, February 27
A few days ago I sent Pastor an email. The occasion was the fact that Esther said it was a scandal how Pastor dealt with me. All that time he has not even offered me a glass of water, let alone something to eat. Absolutely un-African. Even after I let know him how it felt just to be good enough for pennies, he did not change that. When Motorman Charles asked me if I was pleased with his bishop, something started to work inside. If we want to change the world, we must start ourselves. If Bishop was not willing to look at his behaviour, how can we expect that women will change. To honour God he should start to honour God in man, in this case in me. I also pointed out that I really wanted women to contribute something small to their training, if only ten cents. I did not know that I threw a bomb in the ego of Bishop…

Bishop invited Esther and me to sit together to talk. It appears he had arranged a meeting with the women of the project. I assume this is a preparation for the training. While we wait Sharon, my former host, comes out of Michael’s door. Strange! But I am totally not prepared for what will happen! I am being accused in front of the group because I have besmirched Bishop’s name! The only thing I asked – crystal clear – to be seen and welcomed as a human being and not as a money machine! Moreover, it is a private mail, but he insists that I read it in front of all women. Everything is neatly put in scene! Esther does not want to translate, so he does! I watch an ego play which is at least impressive. He plays with the women as if the are music instruments, while swinging the one accusing after the other in the air. Esther is not a Giriama, does not belong to his church and is in all respects his equal. Earlier I said that Giriama women have no voice, some try gentle, but those women are not even used to speak up. This nice pastor seems to have something demonic over him. I understand no word of it but the energy is at least uncomfortable! The good thing is that I feel completely calm as if all this has nothing to do with me. I do not get the chance to respond, even when Esther speaks he breaks in. In short it is a large theatre, a big power game, but it makes no sense! Anyway, after an hour I take my leaf and go home. I feel incredibly calm and clear.

I do not even ask myself if I should have addressed it differently. My email was working as a purifying tornado what everything at a stroke made irreversible clear. This man can not even have an umbrella function even more, if there is a sequel than it will be completely separate from the church, how hard it is here!

Charles calls. Although Bishop has forbidden him to deal with me, he still like to be my moterman! Esther arrives later. She is devastated. She says Michael was not him ‘self’. Well that’s putting it mildly! We decide to give it some time and we will focus our energy on what is possible …

Anyway, this is Kenya. Although I descend into myself to investigate whether or not it is time to go home, that’s not an issue. I even do not feel frustrated, I am full of energy and simply go on with doing ‘no-thing’! There will/is definitely something good being born! If there is only one woman who no longer accepts this, that’s enough to change this world. Eventually, they have to choose this themselves, by trial and error…

Afterword
Shortly said the project is more or far on his ass. I suspect that it was not only difficult for Michael to be approached on its functioning, from the beginning he was not happy with the role of Esther as an equivalent figure. The project being independent of the church was probably the last thing he wanted. But it remains a hypothesis!
Actually, if nothing new is born out of this what my heart keeps singing, I will just drop it all. Nothing should, anything is possible! Still I shine from ear to ear…

Om Shanti,
Yasmin – Kenya

(E) Bookshop

Although it is more likely to experience my stay here as a major frustration, meanwhile I feel fully rooted in the African rhythm of life. My life takes place on several fronts. At dawn when it is still dark I walk to the beach…

Every time again my first footsteps on the white sand feel magical. Everything is known and at the same time it is new again. In this early morning hours I charge my battery by walking, exercising, swimming and doing my meditation. In the morning the sea is like a newborn baby. Flat and sweet and intense of colour. But in the evening she is wild and fiery as a teenager with foam cups and lots of noise.
Mama Africa has become familiar and not just on the beach. Bishop bursts out laughing when the Toek-Toek driver tells him about my reputation. In the meantime I am known by all these, popularly unreliable, boys. They do not bother me with any business. I trust and respect them as they respect me. My bag is left unattended on the beach!
One thing they do not understand. An African is never alone. Why in god sake do I prefer the isolated spots at the beach and why the hell I desire at night to be alone! They just want to make me happy!

Today I’m having lunch with Gafana. Uncomplicated and cosy. The guys let me no how much they appreciate my company and I feel very comfortable in their ‘restaurant’. They wish me a nice day and a very long life…

Teacher
Pleading he stays in front of me, this skinny raster-boy. I did not see him before, but certainly he was watching me for weeks! ‘Please will you be my teacher in Kung Fu?’ Unfortunately, I do not do Kung Fu but Qigong. Yet he knows absolutely certain that he likes to learn this from me! More or less a joke, I ask him: ‘How do you actually pay for my lessons?’ He answers seriously: ‘I have no money. But I can catch fish and grill it for you’. Great Dennis, let us go for it!

After a tremendous journey with several matatu’s and lots of walking, Dennis takes me on sea safari. Carefully guided in the water, we walk to the reef through beautiful gardens of coral. There so is much to see!
Welcome home, Dennis says. Cheerfully he installs me in the shade and leave me for a while to pick some coconuts for me. It is touching to see that he is entirely at home in his homeland! I also feel completely relaxed at this spot! Happy children are playing and fishing in the sea. No begging! Dennis asks if I like to have the fish served here or in his village. The carefully grilled fish, served on a self-woven table under a shady tree on pearl white sand beach with a turquoise sea view is a real delicacy…

Foster Child
I spend a lovely afternoon with Faith. She likes to swim in the pool, but finds it scary, climbs on my lap and puts her arms around my neck. Together we push boundaries. Amazing how much she trust me as she was hardly talking before! Later on we go to the beach with her parents. Faith feels wonderfully free in the water. I took some empty cans and together we build an entire complex, later absorbed by the water. All this time she is chatting and very natural. Unfortunately that is over when we are again with the four of us…

Monday, February 6
The meeting with the owners of the land on Big Home in Kiropot-Area was anything but easy! What I did not know was that the family liked to have a more than decent fee for this! They call it donation in Kenya! Esther is a good negotiator. We finally come to an agreement which is also acceptable for us. Michael shall put it on paper. We will sign on Wednesday and afterwards we will clean the plot together with the women…

Wednesday, February 8
Charles, my motorman, is very happy to see me! I will pray for you, God will bless you! We slither on the sand paths to Esther and proceed to the Bishop. Three shining people! Michael thought about the name of the project: Yasmien Garden: the flavour of Women. ‘Utama wa Wamama’. The name sounds like music in Swahili! Joyful we sign the official papers. Now the owners and the Chief have to sign. Michael the former businessman awakes! We make plans for the lunch project. I meet Darish. She will lead the soap project and believe me, that is something!

Up to Big Home. Already there have gathered the first women. Bishop goes to the men. They have to sign. We join the women. I’m sitting pleasantly on the ground and listen to the lilting Swahili. Esther does not waste time, she immediately starts her teachings. Esther is a Akamba and comes from eastern Kenya. There women have a voice. She is married to a Giriama and became a fighter for women rights. She has mentally trained dozens of women giving them independence, including the AIDS-women from Likoni. Again, it’s a miracle that I’ve met her!

Giriama women of the coast have no voice. That already struck me at the first meeting on Big Home. Although it is their future, they remained at a safe distance and did not speak. Giriama women are the possession of their husbands. Although they can refuse by law, arranged marriages still exist. Sometimes at the age of 12. Their only right is doing the hard work and bearing children.
Now I understand why I did not hear the women in this church. That’s not because of Bishop Michael. He is certainly an advocate for women rights!

The current passes through: more women, more children. I am greeted. Beautiful pictures. We wait until the men are stopping arguing. But that does not happen. I feel calm. Esther starts to get impatient. There is something wrong. Anyway, the foundation is laid, the training has begun and this flow we cannot stop anymore.

After half an hour Esther goes to the bishop and say that we leave. We send the women home and print them at the heart not to lose courage! This is bad for the image of women! This is a huge dent in their confidence…

Sequel
Ultimately the owners do not sign. Michael feels ashamed! Apparently we are back to square one. And yet it is not. We’ll just start with the lunch and the soap project and we look forward to our own land. Although there is a another price tag on it, for me there is no turning back. I want to give these beautiful women a voice. Everything my head did not want, now my HEART wants for sure. More important than anything else is that we find a place that is appropriate to start a kind of a cooperation and were Esther can start to train the women, so they can grow in all respects to independence and can not only built a future for themselves but also for their children…

Meanwhile
Eventually the development of the project continues. Afterwards Bishop wanted to fast and we forgot the foundation! Yasmien Garden is disconnected from the church by now and is serving the community. Michael has only the coordination. With this everything felled into place for me! We are engaged in the registration and everything that comes with it, such as opening a bank account. Pole-pole, slowly-slowly! This is Kenya is not?

Education and information will form the basis for a cooperation where women can start their own businesses based on micro credit with a private banking system. In contrast with the men here, women can do it! Anyway, success is not possible when we do not change our basic believe systems: Only through IN-sight – and let GO of inherited ideas and acquired convictions, we can change the existing situations.

Emancipation
Although I am very relaxed, I spend quite some time looking for a suitable spot. The land is expensive since many Somalia’s are coming this way! I’m learning! Land purchase is a game where you have no note of if you prefer sitting by the stove! The game takes place between men off course! And they are not served by emancipation, on the contrary! If they know that a muzungu (white one) is involved, the plot is half the size and doubled in price. Every landowner got involved and obviously wants to be paid! You can laugh about it or feel frustrated, it is where you choose for!

Yesterday we stood for more than one hour in a traffic jam. The traffic was completely blocked by a transverse truck, very normal. Nobody cares, I certainly do not! Eventually we exchanged the Toek-Toek for two feet and the boda-boda or motorcycle. And yes, it always works. Afrikaners are unfortunately not as creative as Indians. Otherwise, they should start selling tea and snacks in these situations! Well, Bishop and Esther can sometimes be impatient, but in the meantime I am more African than the average African. The only thing bordering me is the heat!

Shame
Shame is apparently linked to the feeling of mine and thine, something people in Africa do not seem to be afflicted with! Everyone asks shamelessly if you want to sponsor their child, if you want to buy them a bike so they do not have to walk, or want to build a home for them or just pay for their lunch and/or the matatu. If not, well, they just leave you with a smile and an empty stomach and walk home. When Esther and I are on the road, I pay everything. No form of shame, not even in Esther.

Who the hell invented the shame? Children are blatantly honest. They take what they need and share what they have. Also on the beach. John has AIDS / HIV. The boys brought together money for medication so he could continue doing his work. Has somebody nothing to eat and the other a good day, then something is shared. That is even obvious as it is obvious that I can pay the bus fee more easily better than they can…

Om Shanti,
Yasmin – Kenya

(E) Bookshop