July 29: Quagmire - a funny word I'm always forgetting to use, but one that describes my project rather well, at this point. Those of you who know me well, don't worry, I'm not despairing - rather I'm embracing what is truly a classic problem of economic development: NO MONEY! The problem stems from my large project budget (at least by Kenyan standards) of $250, which was designated for my project by the EAC. But as I'd anticipated, and the EAC now concurs, a $250 irrigation system is about 250 times more than anyone here who needs it could afford. So this sort of design would violate all rules of development in that it wouldn't be adoptable by locals. So...how to build an irrigation system on less than about $10? I've thought and thought, talked with people of varying degrees of common sense, even lay awake at night trying to figure it out (I still can't sleep due to my day now being my night, and also the rooster crows, the ungodly sounds of cats in heat outside my window, and the dueling 5am prayer calls over the loud speakers of the area's five mosques.)

So, in short, and without giving too much away, lest I later discover an obvious design flaw that might render me an idiot, or worse, a bad engineer - I'll just say it has to do with the following two principles:
(1) Shared investments
(2) Mobility

A system that can be moved, can be shared between farmers (business partners), lowering the cost for each user and with the added benefit of discouraging misuse of the system, since noone wants their friends to turn against them. It's always a concern in development that resources whose returns are over the longterm - like irrigation systems - will be diverted for more immediate needs (i.e. Why water my plants when I need that water to drink?). In truth, I can't take all the credit for this genius, since shared investments (or group loans) are all the rage these days. At least in economic development circles. So as of now, the basic components of my woefully dwindling drip irrigation system are a bike and a plastic water jug!!

So before I go, I have to come clean on something. I spent this afternoon (Saturday) at the Mnarani Beach Club, a luxury beach resort, conveniently located roughly in the middle of nowhere, a short matatu ride from Takaungu. I laid by the pool, read my book, and felt guilty. Though I paid my penance in part, since the entire time there was 1980s cheesy Christian Rock blaring from the speaker systems (Kenyans have strange tastes) and an obnoxious European couple whose constant, frenetic, and high-pitched laughing made my stomach hurt.

When I started this blog, I had a goal to write only three short paragraphs per entry, but that just isn't going to work. Too much happens here. Or maybe, too little happens, and so everything seems like something worth mentioning. That said, I have to tell you quickly about my experience fetching water - just like real Kenyan women - except someone had to lift the jug of water for me, and the jug was only a quarter the size of the other women's, and also, I had to brace it with my hands, which obviously, noone else does here, since they can milk goats while carrying things on their heads. But anyway, the point was, that the FFS students (these are the farmers at the EAC sponsored community plot, for whom I'm designing and demonstrating the irrigation system) welcomed me this past week into their group, which I half thought they would decide not to do, since they had to have a group meeting in Giriyama regarding the subject. Finally, they broke out into a cheer and a peculiar clapping rhythm - something similar to what we used to do at Friday night football games when the visiting team cheerleaders would come to our side and we'd yell "Hey y'all, Hey y'all, Listen here! These are the Bulldogs, let's give 'em a cheer!" But I digress. Anyway, afterward, their English speaking leader informed me they'd agreed to accept me and now wanted me to help them fetch water. Needless to say, it wasn't easy (and they were carrying three times as much water as me) and it certainly wasn't efficient. When we returned to the fields with our water, we dumped water from these huge jugs precariously into tiny plastic mugs and then dumped this water on the plants - or most of the plants. Since noone was really going in any order or really paying much attention, several plants were missed or over or under-watered. Anyway, the experience was formative, because it proved to me the real need for irrigation here. Fetching water is really hard, time consuming, and it's a terrible way to water your plants. Okay, so seriously, you must think all I do is update my blog. But you're the one still reading, so don't blame me.