By Dean Horvath
November 12,2011

By Dean Horvath
November 11, 2011

After leaving Solio, it was time for me to leave for the airport. The rest of the group are going on safari but I need to head home. After the goodbyes to the group, it was time for me to go.

The four-hour ride to the airport gave me plenty of time to reflect, although it was tougher to hide the tears after giving away my sunglasses. So many kids to help, so little resources to accomplish it. We could have done so much more had we planned better.

(Warning: this “rainbow” bit sounds a bit cheesy and isn’t something I would normally write about, but it’s 100% true so I’m including it!)

While I was feeling bad about how much more we could have done, a bright rainbow appeared, stretching across the sky.

Honestly, it was like a switch was flicked on. It felt like a personal message to me. We did good for some kids. We can’t dwell on what we didn’t or couldn’t do; we need to feel proud of what we were able to accomplish.

By Dean Horvath
November 11, 2011

After the ceremony finished, we made our way to the truck and grabbed Evelyn and two of her brothers. It was time to go to her house and present the gifts to her family.

Once there, we sat her mama down and explained (through an interpreter) that we were going to build her a new house. Once with a proper roof, proper walls and a concrete floor. Also we had cooking supplies, plates, mattresses and food. Best of all, we’re able to have their field ploughed, so they can make a living growing crops*.

Everything she needed for a new beginning with her family of 10 kids. It was a nice moment. Although I couldn’t understand what she said, her smile said it all.

It was time to say goodbye to Solio. On our way out, we saw a few kids on their way home wearing the new shoes, carrying their old ones in their hands. They were skipping, jumping, and running after our truck with huge smiles.

We did some good today.

* Every family in Solio was given four acres of bare land for farming, but virtually all of the land is still useless because no family can afford the 50,000 Kenyan Shillings (approximately $50 CAD) to plough it. Our group provided the funds to plough their parcel of land, as well as many other families’.

By Dean Horvath
November 11, 2011

How fitting that today is Remembrance Day. By all accounts, it was shaping up to be a day to remember for all of us. It was Ceremony Day at the school where we would do the official presentation of our classroom to the school, as well as all of the other gifts the group has purchased.

The day started with a trip to town to pick up over 200 textbooks for the school and cooking supplies, beds, linen, food and lighting for Evelyn’s family’s new house.

We arrived at the school for the 11am start but of course they are on “Kenyan time”, which means “11am” is simply a suggestion. It was obvious it wasn’t close to beginning.

Because of the delay, we had the opportunity to mingle with the kids. At first, it was fantastic. But slowly, we all found ourselves seeking the shelter of our truck. There were 450 kids but only 12 of us. It was simply too overwhelming.

On my way back from the washroom (I use the term ‘wash’-room loosely-there actually wasn’t much ‘washing’ involved), a teacher pulled me into a classroom filled with the older kids practicing their singing. She told me they were ready to sing for me and asked if I could watch.

Could I?!? Of course I could! Out of nowhere, I had a private viewing of an amazing performance of singing, dancing and acting.

The Ceremony started next. We all sat at the front with the kids spread out in a semicircle. The Headmaster began with a short speech followed by an amazing performance by the same group that had just given me a private performance.

One girl’s heart wrenching performance brought tears to all of us. Her monologue was a passionate plea to God, asking Him why he had put her in the predicament she was in. But it wasn’t their true predicament of no food and meagre shelter that we would expect. Instead, it was an imagined predicament of alcoholic parents that didn’t love her.

Imagined predicament or not, truly it was a question to God of why he can make some people face so much hardship.

For me, it summed up the entire trip and was one of the most touching moments.

After the kids performed, the village parents got up and did an impromptu song and dance of thanks. Something you would never see in North America.

Next, it was our turn to perform a song and dance: a rendition of Bob Marley’s “Three Little Birds” with Clayton playing the guitar and Rachel choreographing our dance. We were quite proud of it going in, but that was until we saw the kids’ performance. It was embarrassingly inadequate compared to theirs, but of course we only had a couple of days to prepare and they seemed to enjoy it.

After the performances, there were some speeches. I had a chance to speak to everyone, to thank them for having us. I had the kids chant “Thank you Mason Horvath” for the rest of our company back in Vancouver who helped to raise the money for the classroom.

After the speeches, the shoes, textbooks and school supplies were presented. Pictures were taken with all of the kids holding the gifts.

The event was the culmination of a year’s worth of planning, a long journey, a week of hard work and a roller coaster of emotions. In the end, it was extremely fulfilling.

By Dean Horvath
November 10, 2011

This morning, it was back to the Rescue Centre to spend some time with the kids and to finish off the new food storage structure before heading back to Solio after lunch.

Most of our now familiar young friends were there this morning, as well as some new ones. We played games, taught them about our life and learned more about theirs.

Britain, one of the boys that I had been talking with over the last couple of days, was noticeably absent. I was concerned that we would leave without being able to say goodbye.

Britain and his 16 year-old sister have no parents and sleep in a storm drain at night. She is one of only two girls we met at the Rescue Centre. Street girls out of school are rarely seen during the day because they are up at nights with prostitution.

Nicole, who also spent time talking to the two, asked his sister where he was and discovered that he was out trying to do some work this morning in the hope to earn enough to buy his older sister a cup of Chai tea.

Imagine. No home and no parents. And he’s spending the morning looking for enough money to buy his sister a 2-cent cup of tea.

It was almost time to leave for Solio, but before we left we were able to stop at the local school that Moving Mountains refurbished. There are over 1000 students in the school, most from the surrounding slums.

We were lucky to be there to see the Grade 8 class immediately after their final exam. Grade 8 is the final year of Primary School and for most of the students it marks the end of their education.

There was an impromptu ceremony for us. During the speeches, the headmaster asked the crowd of Grade 8’s to raise their hand if they eat their lunch at the Moving Mountains Rescue Centre. Nearly half of the students raised their hands. For many, Mama Rescue’s meal of rice and beans is their only meal of the day.

It was time to leave for lunch and then the journey back to Solio. We said our goodbyes to street kids that had followed us to the school.

During the ride back to lunch was quiet. We were all lost in our own thoughts. Thoughts of the kids we had grown to know over the last couple of days yet would never see again.

And that’s when the emotions started. One by one, over the next couple of hours, the last week’s experience began to hit us. Some succumb to tears; others were stuck in silent reflection.

I sure I can’t explain how we all felt because we are all different. But to me, there was a mixture of admiration and futility.

Admiration. These kids hold their head’s high, they joke with us, they play games, they learn, and yet they’re faced with a life that would make any adult crumble. Of course, not all. Some of them fall to the street vices of drugs and alcohol. But for those that don’t, you can’t help but admire them.

Futility. It’s the admiration that leads to the sense of futility. You want to help but you can’t. There’s simply too many. How do you help everyone?

I’m sure that I wasn’t the only one whose sunglasses hid tears on the ride to Solio.

By Dean Horvath
November 9, 2011

The plan was to have lunch at the Rescue Centre. The kitchen cleanliness (lack-of?) and the street kids hanging around made many of us a little squeamish, so the majority of the group walked up to a nearby restaurant instead.

Up until this point, Eva the tour cook or the hotel cooks had made all of our meals as a group. Eva’s a great cook but we were all looking forward to ordering from a menu.

For me at least, the food at the restaurant was a complete disappointment. It ended up being no different than anything we had been served up until that point. So much for the excitement of ordering from a menu.

When we returned to the restaurant, we were met with a mouth-watering smell wafting from the kitchen. Eva had made Beef Pilau with rice and salsa.

Although I was full from lunch, I had to try some. I only tried a small scoop but it was easily the best meal of the week.

And that’s when the irony hit me. My own fear of being uncomfortable kept me from having a once in a lifetime meal, shared with a great group of kids. It’s a decision that embarrasses me, and I know it will weigh on me for long time.

By Dean Horvath
November 9, 2011

Back to the Rescue Centre this morning. Many of the kids that were there the day before were there again today.

We were making new friends with many of the kids. Telling them stories of Canada and learning about their lives. They were excited to be talking with us. The kids all speak Swahili as their first language, but they all know at least basic English. Some of the kids were very bright and spoke English fluently, asking surprisingly intelligent questions like “The British colonized Canada, right?”

Down on the field, the Under 12-year-old Black Cats Football team were warming up for their big game…against us.

Years ago, Moving Mountains realized they needed something for the street kids to look forward to and give them a sense of pride and self esteem. Naturally, Football (soccer) is huge here in Africa, so they decided to form a team made up entirely of street kids.

Now, seven years later, they have multiple teams (including an all-girls team) in Nairobi and Embu. They consistently win championships and are highly rated in Kenya. One of the Black Cats’ players, Victor Mugabi, now earns millions of dollars playing professionally for the Celtics in Scotland.

This morning, the group of youngsters were taking us on. We all warmed up and stretched on the dirt field with a thin layer of mud from the previous night’s rain.

The skills these kids processed was amazing. The coach had them passing the ball around us in circles and although the game ended in a 1-1 tie, anyone watching would tell you that these kids kicked our butts.

By Dean Horvath
November 8, 2011

In the afternoon, Gilbert took us on a walking tour around the town of Embu. We went through the market stalls where all of the fruits and vegetables are sold. Mothers bring their toddlers with them while they tend to their stall. The kids end up sitting right in with the produce.

We made our way through the market and walked up the main industrial section. This is where the mechanical and woodworking manufacturing occurs.

Along the way, we gathered quite an entourage. Up to 20 or 30 kids started walking along with us, asking to have their picture taken. It was impossible to say no when their eyes are looking up to you looking for nothing more than to see themselves on your camera screen.

We stopped in the supermarket for some supplies and everyone purchased a handful of suckers to hand out to the kids. We walked out of the supermarket and up to the corner nonchalantly, when suddenly we whipped out our suckers and started passing them out. Pandemonium ensued. Hands were grabbing at us, shouting “Gimme! Gimme!” It was completely overwhelming.

Some of us found ourselves saying “Say please!” and I was making sure no one was cheating by taking two. Of course, it was ignorant of us to expect it. These are kids with no homes, very little food and in most cases, no parents, and there we were trying to teach them manners.

Upon reflection, I think it was another way in which we simply don’t understand and are out of our element. In our eagerness to give them a treat, did we actually give them a lesson on how to beg? That you can get something from tourists by saying “gimme gimme”? That in fact it’s easier to beg for food than to earn it?

Our intentions were in the right place…but in this instance, I suspect we did more harm than good.

By Dean Horvath
November 8, 2011

Over the last couple of days, large, pink and red, oozing welts have slowly appeared on Rachel. They started on one leg, then across her waist, and then more on the other leg.

Now, they’ve started appearing all over. She’s losing sleep because they are extremely itchy.

As they were starting we weren’t sure what they could be, but as more appear we seem to have come to an agreement that they are bedbugs. The Blue Line Hotel has never had bedbugs and Rachel is using a brand new sleeping bag, but we think we know where they came from.

When we visited Evelyn’s house the other day, Rachel was the only one to sit in the house. She sat alongside Evelyn while interviewing her for the film, so it seems that some bugs crawled onto her clothing.

We think she then passed them on to her sleeping bag, where they’ve been biting her continuously for the last three nights.

She’s now thrown away the sleeping bag and the clothes she was wearing have been taken away and washed, so hopefully this will be the end.

Bedbugs – yet another thing we will hopefully help with when we build Evelyn and her family a new house.

By Dean Horvath
November 8, 2011

We not allowed at the school for a couple of days this week because it’s Kenya’s government school exams this week. They were concerned that we would be a distraction for the kids, so we packed up and are on our way to Embu, about three hours away.

Moving Mountains runs a children’s rescue centre here where they feed over 180 street kids every day. In a recent storm, a tree fell on their food storage structure. Since we couldn’t be at the school, they decided we would go and rebuild it.

Thousands of Kenyan children are homeless and live on the streets, sleeping in drains and scrounging whatever food they can. The goal of this centre was originally only to feed them, but over time they realised that they needed to help break the cycle of poverty.

They have an onsite classroom to help teach the kids that don’t go to regular school and to assist the ones that do. They help place kids into programs where they excel, such as mechanics or woodworking, and if they are bright enough, university.

But for every success, there are disappointments. Gilbert, the Moving Mountains representative that runs the centre told us of a number of kids they reached through the years, as well as a few that just couldn’t make the jump out off the streets.

Normally, it’s only boys that come to the shelter during the day (other than at lunchtime when the kids that go to school come by on their lunch break). Unfortunately, street girls aren’t normally seen during the day because they are up at night with prostitution.

The kids were excited to see us. They all want to know our names and have us take their picture. They never tire of looking at the picture immediately after you take it. The kids also seem to have a particular interest in the hair on my arms because they have none. They pull it, stroke it, twist it.

We were warned that some of the kids would be in rough shape and it didn’t take us long to see why. Glue sniffing, drugs and alcohol are prevalent with kids. Some of them hide around the corner for a sniff of glue but many others sniff out in the open. There’s something disconcerting about a 10 year old so high from glue that his glassy eyes can’t focus and he can’t stand straight.

But respect of the rules is mandatory. All kids wash their own dishes and violence of any kind is simply not tolerated. Gilbert once closed the shelter because one kid decided he didn’t want to do his own dishes. Finally, after three days of pressure from the other kids, the boy came to Gilbert and apologized and the centre reopened.

Gilbert spends most of his time counselling the 180 kids. They all have their own problems and he’s the one they want to talk to to sort it out.