Banging my head against the wall

God has a way of making us humble.  Yesterday, I was opining about how great I felt that all of my experiences had prepared me for this work, and all that rot.  Today I tried to merge my two passions, computers and Kenya, and the result was "splat."

My goal today was to meet with our guys and cover a few items of orphanage business and then spend some time working on their computers and training them on how to use a new email program and Picasa, for managing pictures.  While I was looking at their laptops and installing software, Paul was leading them in a great presentation on vehicle maintenance and driving tips.  He had prepared manuals for them and everything. The software installation went well, so I was encouraged to continue on with my plan.

When we started the training, I discovered immediately that I was in trouble.  I know these programs very well, and to me, they are simple to use.  But "simple" to a man who has owned every major class of personal computer since they were invented is different than to an African who has only used it to do one thing. Here's an example.

Me: "Go ahead and launch your web browser."

Them: Blank stare, no movement.

Me: "Okay, double click on the Firefox icon."

Them: Blank stare, some little movement. Shuffling uncomfortably.

Me: "That orange, round picture on the desktop?"

Them: Some intense staring at the screen.  A few mouse movements.

Now, don't hear me saying that these guys are stupid, they are not.  They're just from a totally different mindset than we are.  It would be the same if they were trying to walk me through how to milk a cow, or plant sugarcane.  Chaos. In the end, there were so many problems uncovered during our training that I scrapped most of it and had to be content with the few tidbits of something that they might have picked up.  Paul's, deal was good, though.

After most of the guys had to leave, the rest of us went for a stroll in downtown Kisii.  It was interesting, like a walk back in time.  We saw brand new things that our great-grandparents must have bought.  Hand drills, two person bow saws, a plow made for an ox, side by side with Nokia cell phones and pirated DVD's.  We thought we might find a restaurant, but no luck.  Everyone in Kisii eats at home or from a street vendor, and I'm not that adventurous.

We are bout to go back to the restaurant to wait for a couple of hours for the same food we had yesterday and for lunch both days.  The Kenyans don't mind, it's what they eat every day.  Americans are spoiled to variety.  Even me, Mr. Kenya, is seriously craving pizza.  At least we will be able to watch another episode of "Soy Tu Duena", a Mexican soap opera, badly dubbed in English, on Kenyan TV.  This Is Africa!

A pitiful few pictures are here.