A Blog Post by Matthew Cole: Wanderings

Pole, nimepotea. Sorry, I have been lost. It’s been a while since my last blog post, and that has to do mostly with the fact that I have been incredibly busy this past month. Between traveling for work and pleasure and the festive season, I haven’t had the chance to just sit down and write. So, this post is a tad longer than normal and I hope it doesn’t elicit too many TL:DR reactions.

First, in early December I had the opportunity to witness another part of the Samburu circumcision process. Eric’s clan is now beginning the process of circumcision. The first step in this process is for the boys to journey up north to collect a sticky gum from a tree to fashion arrows out of. Before the boys leave, a temporary manyatta (lorora) is constructed purely for the purpose of blessing the boys. So, the eldest boy to be circumcised in each house meets up at this lorora, a number upwards of 800 boys. The elder men then line up in two lines and the boys walk through the lines, singing, while the elders chant. The thing that was the most shocking to me however, was that many of the boys were overcome with emotion. And when I say “overcome with emotion,” I mean in the sense that they quite literally start convulsing, almost appearing as if they are having a seizure. As the journey to get the chewing gum is the first stage of the circumcision process, it dawned on me just how important this day is for these boys, especially those boys who have never been to school and who only know life in the manyatta. Seeing this incredibly raw display of human emotion can be quite powerful and causes self-reflection on one’s own journey in life.

The boys to head out to get tree gum.

Second, I experienced my first festive season away from home.  While Thanksgiving is actually my favorite holiday (ya boy loves to cook), due to the excitement of our choir competition that weekend (see my last post), I did not get an overwhelming sense of FOMO (fear of missing out). However, part of what made Christmas time harder, was the fact that I did not feel much holiday spirit at all. I think most of this had to do with the climate I am in. Having grown up in Massachusetts, going to boarding school in New Hampshire and college in upstate New York, I have never once been in a warm place for an extended period of time in December. Heck, it’s Christmas Eve, a day I usually spend in church in a suit and tie and I was sitting at my desk in shorts and a t-shirt.  But, I remind myself in this situation that I have had the ability to experience so many unique things culturally that I never, ever would have been able to otherwise and quite possibly might never see again. On Christmas itself I went to Eric’s house, where a goat had been slaughtered and we spent the day together, ending with another idyllic sunset.

Sundowners Christmas Day with Eric and two of his kids, Fidel (l) and Melissa (r).

 And last, as my visa was set to expire soon, I spent the week between Christmas and New Year’s in Cape Town with my mother and girlfriend, and was also able to meet up with the two other Minerva Fellows from Union. The journey was both to experience a beautiful region, and to meet up with people I missed, but it also helped to re-center myself as to why I came to work on the water crisis in the first place. In the spring of 2018, I had the privilege to spend my spring term at Union studying abroad in Florence, Italy. I distinctly remember learning about how the city of Cape Town was dangerously close to being the first major city in the world to ever run out of water. And perhaps being in a foreign country helped me to grasp it, but that was the first instance I can truly remember where I felt “This is it. This is climate change. It is here. It is not a future problem. It is a NOW problem.” Due to incredible conservation efforts by citizens and some luck with rain, Cape Town never reached the fabled “Day 0,” the day when water would cease to come out of taps and citizens would have to queue for water. But the remnants are still there, with signs in every public restroom advertising what precautions need to be taken to save water. And then, coming back to Wamba, where some families rely on as little as 20 litres per of water per day was a further reminder. Being in these two places serves as a stark reminder of what issues my generation will have to solve.

A view of Table Mountain enveloped in it’s so called “table cloth” overlooking Table Bay from Robben Island. A serene place

It’s crazy to believe that I have only a little over 3 months left in my fellowship. I hope to savor every moment here, as I have already done. This month of January should bring new challenges and experiences as we are finally starting to drill our surveyed wells and bringing water to the communities there. I cannot wait to see what is in store and I will be sure to share it with you!