It’s a situation we Liminas women know all too well: freshly graduated from college and thrown out into the world with nary an idea of what to do next. While most of us twenty-somethings settle for a ho-hum entry level job {if we’re lucky!} or apply to graduate schools, Miranda Adler decided to take a less traditional path. Attracted to the nonprofit world, she took it one step further and turned her interest in humanitarian work into a full fledged adventure. She packed up, moved to Kenya, and settled in a rural village. The obstacles Miranda faced are unique to her experience, but the universality of what she learned is of invaluable importance to all of us Liminas women struggling during this transitional time. Follow along as Miranda shares with us her experiences and lessons learned.
Though I never thought it’d be possible, I started to settle into a routine in Africa. Every morning around 7 a.m. (sometimes 4 a.m., depending on where the rooster was hanging out) we’d wake up in our dew-studded tents to the sounds of kids playing, the village women chatting as they boiled up breakfast (butter sandwiches, donuts and tea so sweet it made my teeth ache) and figure out our game plan for each week. The two of us working with orphans and vulnerable children spent most of our days toting backpacks full of kids’ books, blocks, and coloring supplies, scouring the surrounding villages for information about why there were so many orphans and what their life was really like.
We’d hop on the back of slightly dilapidated Piki Piki’s, translators in tow and interact with the community, asking questions and basically soaking up as much as we could from local leaders, school teachers and other NGO’s in the area. We met so many kids and heard so many tales about families devastated by AIDS it was unreal. I’d like to note that remembering names is not my forte, but as I was introduced to each child I tried to imagine what it would be like to go through their particular struggle—I couldn’t forget their names if I tried.
The giving spirit and sense of community was strong in Kenya. So strong that in one village we visited called Ratieny, every single family had taken in at least one orphaned child, some up to five, along with their own brood. Everyone was just trying to get by; many times that meant a young girl’s education had to take the back seat while she became the head of household at 13, or the babysitting duties that begin once a child is old enough to carry a baby on its back.
The mission of our organization was not to hand out food to the needy, build homes, or dole out cash. We saw the pride and strength in the community; our job was to work with them to find solutions. Even so it was heartbreaking to see this level of poverty and not be able to do much. After weeks of playing with the kids, making them feel special and wanted (orphans are often stigmatized and become outcasts in the community), I felt like I was not doing enough. I still feel that way now.
Global poverty isn’t going to end with one girl making one trip to Africa. I wanted to take this trip to push myself out of my comfort zone, and before I left I told myself not to have too high of hopes—if I felt I had truly made a difference in one kid’s life I would feel like I did my job. But I didn’t expect every child I met to make a difference to me. Like Motilda, the chunky toddler with sass to match, whose distended belly almost hurt to look at. Like 10-year-old Ray, who jammed with me to Slightly Stoopid even though he had no idea what the lyrics meant. Like sweet and gentle Scovia, who passed away before she had a fourth birthday and we’ll never even know why.
I didn’t make a dent in solving Africa’s problems but the experience alone, just being able to see how these people live was invaluable. I’m still struggling with some of things I saw and don’t understand how I can help. I know there was a reason I felt compelled to take the trip and maybe just by sharing what I went through, I’ll inspire others to do the same.
~Miranda Adler
Want to know more about Miranda’s adventures? Check out her blog at mirmurs.com.
