POR #1 for Country Analysis

Just thought I'd post something I wrote for class. I'll try to post as much of my writing on here as possible. This is my first POR for Country Analysis. They are personal observation reports about anything we're observing/experiencing. They are short and informal assignments but I think they will still be worth sharing. We write two per week...so we'll see how many I can get on here.

Borders, Bars, and Barricades: Reflections on Safety and Security in Nairobi

Metal bars. Shards of glass. Barbed wire. Gated compounds. One way in and one way out. This may sound like a horror film but it is, in fact, what I see and experience at every moment in Nairobi. I sleep at night "protected" by barred windows, a locked door, a locked immediate gate, and a locked main gate with a security guard. The view from my room is a beautiful garden with spirals of barbed wire adorning the top of a fence. When I walk to school, every building, restaurant, and home is barred, gated, lined with fences and chunks of broken glass. There are police with guns walking the streets. It is such a violent form of security. I have never felt so confined, protected, and excluded all at the same time. Every time someone has to open a gate for me or teach me how to open my window through thick, cold bars, i am reminded that I am an outsider.
What are people keeping in? What are they trying to keep out?
I noticed my first day here the way this "security" has infiltrated every day language. I remember the comfort of my neighborhood back home--friendly and welcoming. Neighborhood. My 7-year old host cousin talks about her home in a compound. This word remains harsh to my ears. What does it mean to grow up in a compound? Maybe I am just imposing my connotations.
Beyond language, I wonder what these fences and gates mean in a culture struggling with imposted divisions and debilitating ethnic polarization. Don't all of these physical barriers just perpetuate the borders that are so destructive to Kenya? Don't they dictate who belongs in each area, further institutionalizing difference and segregation? Can Nairobi be a "melting pot" province--with all 42 ethnic groups and a drastic range of classes represented--if everything within it is sectioned off for the sake of "protection"?
I wonder, how safe are we? Why are there no sidewalks but there are rows of barbed wire in all of the bushes to scrape my legs as I try to dodge speeding matatus? I guess someone thinks those plants deserve more protection than pedestrians just trying to get somewhere. Safety? For whom? What is the price we must pay for this?
I don't feel inherently unsafe here. I am just intrigued by the measures taken to create an illusion of safety by appealing to our visual senses. It looks safe, so it must be safe, right? This phenomenon certainly doesn't start here. Borders in the name of safety. Homeland Security in the U.S. Segregation. A fence between the U.S. and Mexico. Power on the inside, exclusion and dependency on the outside. I don't know which side of the fence I live on. Is this the inside or the outside? Am I being kept in or kept out? I have never felt so confined, protected, and excluded all at the same time.


That's all for the first one. Let me know what you think. It's not formal or really over-worked...just some thoughts I had. Hope everyone is doing well. Things are still great here as I wrap up my 3rd week. Unbelievable. We're planning a trip this weekend, hopefully to Ngong or somewhere else outside of Nairobi. Simon said he'd tell me more about my internship tomorrow after classes so I'll post whatever I find out as soon as possible. I'm sending my love to all and I'll write again soon!