I know it’s time to update my blog when I get emails that begin, “So are you still writing about the General?” or “Are you alive?” The answer to both of these questions is a resounding YES. And I’m very busy keeping up with both.

I reviewed my last blog entry from (eek!) February and was pleasantly surprised to read how confident, albeit out of breath, I sounded. My form is continually evolving—getting more streamlined, tighter, understandable, better. Most of the improving form is thanks to loads of practice and great coaching. I have a lot of updates for you, so please excuse my bullet-points as I try to make this entry’s length less intimidating.

Here we go:

- A while back, my mentor (“Dr. Ted”) sent me information about a conference on oral history organized by the International Oral Historians Association (IOHA). He encouraged me to submit a proposal to present my work with the General and represent TGHP. I rolled my eyes a little bit, thinking that my mere bachelor’s degree might disqualify me, but I sent in a proposal anyways. It was accepted. (To be continued in a later bullet point…)

- I finished a first draft of the manuscript, the General’s life story, on April 1st, 2010. I had set myself this deadline before realizing it fell on April Fools’ Day. But, wouldn’t you know, I made it.

- On April 2nd, I sent the manuscript to four scholars (professors, writers, historians, super smart people) who agreed to read it and give me their feedback. I vowed not to touch the manuscript until I heard from them, and I caught up on life that I’d neglected for some time. Those six weeks not working on the mss were brutal. I wavered between states of withdrawal, excitement, anxiety, boredom, anticipation, and self-doubt—sometimes, I experienced all these conditions in one day.

- On April 26th, I received the following email from one of my readers: “I’ve read your manuscript. . .My overall impression is very positive. You are certainly fortunate in your choice of subject: King’ua’s life story is profoundly interesting, not only at a personal level but also because of the light it throws on many facets of Kenya’s history and on the way of life and pre- and post-independence experiences of the Meru people; and his way of telling it, no doubt stimulated by your way of eliciting it from him, is always engaging and often engrossing. Congratulations to you both. More later.” Yay.

- In the subsequent weeks, I heard from my other readers, and I received a full report of comments and line edits from the one quoted above. Reactions were generally positive, and they took the potential of my work with the General seriously. They gave me detailed feedback on their impressions and how they think I can improve it. Basically, the consensus was, “It’s good now. It could be excellent.” Or, in Professor Mason’s words, “You should be confident in what you’ve done and humble in what you have left to do.” The critiques were thoughtful, sensitive, thorough, and extensive. This was good. (Read: But I have a lot more work left to do than expected.)

- From the end of May to early-July, I retreated to my workspace in Daytona to begin revising and try to make the manuscript excellent. This, admittedly, was also a pretty tough time. While for the most part, readers did not directly contradict one another, each had something different that he liked, disliked, or wanted to see more of. The scary part had begun: I had to be the “authority” on the material. All of my readers were far more accomplished than me, yet now I was supposed to accept or reject their critiques? Hmm.

And, of course, there was my ever-present awareness that I have no foreseeable income or degree (honorary perhaps?) coming from this work. I’ve fully devoted my last eighteen months to it, and I’m getting close to having a final product, but I’m also squinting at my savings account and watching it trickle down like sand through an hourglass. I’m living in the richest country in the world, yet my biggest donation has come from the General’s fundraising efforts on the ground, in Kenya, from tea farmers (see December blog entry). While I absolutely love this aspect of the project, I’m not gonna lie—I kinda wish a Western friend or fan of TGHP would help me with fundraising. But I’m reminded of the words of my old boss, Director Kenny Leon, when he would say, “You have the right to the work but not the reward.” (He was actually quoting playwright August Wilson, who was actually quoting the Bhagavad Gita.) So, for now, I’m focusing on the work until I can’t afford my weekly ice cream consumption anymore, when I will be forced to find a reward (I’m predicting this time will be at the end of this year.)

- On July 5th, I flew to Prague to attend the IOHA conference. I presented my work (entitled: “In the Shadow of Mount Kenya: Conversations with a Mau Mau”) on July 9th. I spoke for twenty minutes and used audio and video clips as well as pictures from my interviews with the General. I remembered the General’s advice about public speaking:

It is a gift, even, to speak. Not all the people, whether white or brown or red, can speak in front of others. Once somebody stands in a big crowd of people, where he knows these people are of different categories—some are older, some are highly educated—once you come to thinking of that thing, you fail straight away. You get mixed up and once you are nervous, that’s the end of you. You are thinking too much, “How do they see me?”

They are not there to intimidate. Tell them what you prepared to tell them. Forget what they know. Leave it—never think of them. It is you who has the material, and they are listening. Whether some of them [already] know it—that is good. They will hear now the way that you are putting it. If they do not know, then they will hear it first from you. That’s what I think. Those who know it will be shaking [nodding] their heads “Uh-huh!” Others will just be attentive; they want to hear from you because they have never known that before.

I think my speech went well, and the General would have been proud. I met some very interesting people at the conference and learned a lot. I also desperately needed this break from the manuscript. I think just by rubbing elbows with some scholars in this field, I’m feeling just a little more legitimate. I’m going to try and put up excerpts of the speech online. Now that my technical guru, Lindsay Tabas, is back in the country, perhaps she can help me.

-On August 10th, I will retreat to Daytona again to (I hope) finish this wave of revisions. I’m shooting to complete it by the first of October. I will send the manuscript to my mentor and his wife, Dale, for proofing and any final comments. Then I will take my first step into the unchartered territory of getting this thing published. (Cue “Duh-duh-duhhhhh” music.)

So, I think this pretty much catches you up on things right now. I will promise, as I’ve promised many times before, that I will try to keep this blog updated on how everything is going, but, in case I disappear from cyberspace again, you know what I’m doing.

Thank you so much for your support, your positive energy, and your belief in me and the mission of TGHP. I feel you, and I appreciate you.

I’m. Still. Going.

All the best – Laura Lee Huttenbach / Nkirote

Ps – No need to worry about me—I’m still optimistic that this Grand Idea will come to fruition. I’m keeping faith that a good story will find its place, and I know this is a dang good story. In fact, I can’t wait for you to read it. But I just wanted to be honest that the process has not been easy, in case anyone was thinking about writing a book. I would tell you: Absolutely do it if you think it’s a story that deserves to be told. But, it’s a lot of work and kinda hard. The General trusted me with the history of his life, and gosh darn it—I’m making sure that gets told (because it’s extraordinary).

——-
Cheers – Laura Lee P. Huttenbach/ Nkirote

Maybe I need to say that again to keep myself from shouting it off my balcony: I. Just. Finished. Transcribing. All. Of. The. Sessions. With. The. General.

All 1,148 pages of them. Can I kiss my foot petal now?

And guess what? The General History Project went multimedia. I finished a 4-minute video promo/teaser of the organization with the help of Board Member and editing genius Jessica Musick. I’m talking with webmaster extraordinaire Lindsay Tabas (and Board Member) on Monday and hopefully we can get the video up on the website by next week. I wish I could’ve organized a VIP advanced screening for all you supporters, but I think it will have to premiere on the website due to budgeting constraints.

I also heard from Murithi, the General’s son, that the General got electricity at the tea farm this week. Imagine, after 87 years. So I’m not the only one seeing the light.

As soon as I pick up the transcriptions from the print shop, I’m going to read it and write all over it and figure out how to tell The General’s life story (i.e.: begin a manuscript for his biography). That’s not intimidating at all (gulp).

When I spoke with “Dr. Ted,” he told me that once he finished the transcriptions with Ned Cobb (an 84-year-old Alabama sharecropper he wrote about in the book All God’s Dangers), things came together pretty fast. I’ve got my fingers crossed for divine intervention. (I’m only kidding about “crossing fingers” – superstition never mixes well with the divine.) Luckily, there’s a drive-in church down the road here in Daytona. Maybe I’ll bring my work to the Sunday service.

Anyhow: I wanted to share the good news. I couldn’t have come this far without your support.

Yay – Laura Lee P. Huttenbach

ps: Thank you so much to everyone who voted for me during Nau’s “Grant for a Change” competition. I was not selected as a finalist, but it was a constructive exercise for me to participate. And there are a lot of good people doing good things to make this world a better place. I sincerely appreciate all the votes. And please do let me know if you hear of any similar opportunities that this project might apply for.

Technology: 2,831 versus Laura Lee: 3

I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to put together a five to ten minute video teaser about The General History Project. I returned with fifty-five hours of video footage from Kenya. The footage mostly includes taped interviews but also features scenes from around the tea and coffee farms, church, a family reunion, our safari, and a couple field trips.

Although I want to focus on the audio recordings and transcriptions, many people encouraged me to include a visual component. I agreed that this was a good idea. So, I tried on the hat of a video editor. It didn’t fit.

I knew the war with technology would be a dirty one when I spent twenty-eight minutes on the phone with a customer service representative explaining my troubles in backing up the original footage on an external hard drive. At twenty-nine minutes, the helpful employee informed me, “Um, well, actually, we’re not set up here to give technical support, but it just sounded like you needed to talk to someone.” I checked to see what number I’d dialed.

I said, “So you’re telling me that, after thirty minutes on the phone, that you can’t help me?” This man was obviously a veteran and unfazed by my frustration. He said, “I want to tell you something, I’m not sure if you’ve heard it before, but I want you to remember: Michael Jordan was not a good basketball player the first time he stepped out on the court.”

I’m not kidding. Oh yes, this technological warfare was going to be dirty.

I recruited more people for my team: TGHP’s Treasurer, Jessica, joined me in the struggle. She has a Mac with a wonderful application called I-Video. We spent four hours at the Apple store last week trying to get our computers to talk to one another. I think my PC got nervous surrounded by all the Macs, and it shut down. It wasn’t looking good for this TGHP teaser. Until yesterday…

I brought my video camera with selected tapes to Jessica’s house. I plugged the camera directly into her Mac desktop (after a quick run to Best Buy to get the right firewire cable). We opened I-Video. A lovely, welcoming screen appeared asking us if we wanted to import footage. We clicked in the affirmative. And it began to import. It was a beautiful sequence of events.

Perhaps my losing streak has ended. I think this video may actually happen after all. And then I’m going back to transcribing and writing. My biggest concern now is that I might have to buy a Mac, but I’m not going to discuss this possibility any further while I’m typing on its competition. ‘Cause that’s just not PC (or in the budget).

So…stay tuned for some video clips from my work with The General in Kenya. They’re on the way (thanks, Jess)!!

Oh, and thank you so much to all those who have voted in Grant for a Change. I currently have 116 votes – still a ways back from the frontrunners, but I’m so grateful for your support. You have until the end of this month to vote at http://www.nau.com/collective/grant-for-change/laura-lee-p–huttenbach-665.html. Instructions are in the previous blog, and I’d love it if you took two minutes to vote if you have not done so. Thanks so much!

Sending good thoughts – Laura Lee Huttenbach

I have exciting news to share! My lovely sister nominated me for a contest called “Grant for Change.” It’s sponsored by a small clothing company from Portland called Nau, and they’ll give $10,000 to “an individual working to instigate lasting, positive change.” Some think that might apply to me and The General History Project.

Now here’s where you come in (I hope): It’s based on votes, and I would be honored if you took 4 minutes of your time and voted for me. I would be ecstatic if you spent 8 minutes of your time and asked your family and friends to do the same. There are some other cool projects featured there, so feel free to browse around.

Here are the instructions:

1. Go to http://www.nau.com/collective/grant-for-change/laura-lee-p–huttenbach-665.html

2. Click on “Register” in the upper right corner of the page.

3. Put in your name, email, and create a password. Then click “Register Now.”

4. Go to the link again: http://www.nau.com/collective/grant-for-change/laura-lee-p–huttenbach-665.html (copying and pasting it in the browser works).

5. You’ll notice some tabs above my text – “Who, Why, Images, etc.” Please click on “Rate/share.”

6. Please click on five stars (or whatever rating you think is appropriate).

7. Please accept a big, sloppy virtual hug of appreciation from me, yours truly.

To quote a recent email I received from a TGHP supporter:

Laura Lee: Voted for you and sent this along to more voters – an interesting site and so encouraging to see so many young people with a service disposition. Sometimes when I listen to the discord in DC and observe the rampant materialism, I lose confidence in the future; this site is a refreshing antidote to despair.

So yay for good people. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Talk to you soon…

Kwa u pendo (“with love,” in Swahili) – Laura Lee

Ps- Thanks to my friend Ashley and her friend Becca for telling us about this grant. As an old colleague used to say, team work makes the dream work…

I’ve been a bit of a recluse these past couple weeks. As I recently told a friend, “I’ve been too distracted doing the work to talk about the work I’m doing.” She assured me that it was an excusable distraction.

But in a world that’s starting to expect hourly progress updates (thanks, Twitter), I fear that my online absence is mistaken for indolence. That is not the case, but I will try again to maintain a potent virtual presence over the next couple months.

First, Daytona was an amazingly productive work space for me. I’ve completed approximately 70% of the transcriptions with The General. It is a long and tedious process, but I reap great rewards reconnecting with the material.

Second, earlier this month, I visited one of my favorite mentors – author and Professor Theodore Rosengarten – in McClellanville, South Carolina. He and his wife, Dale, requested a “Kenya debriefing session,” and I jumped at the opportunity to retell all of my stories to a relatively new audience (most of my family and friends have cut me off already). They were excited to listen to The General and watch some of my videos – a tour of the tea farm, a church service, the family reunion.

They encouraged me to keep my head down and finish the transcribing. “Dr. Ted” believes that once I read all of the transcriptions, an appropriate form will emerge to organize the material. It was wonderful to receive their guidance and support. Although it’s nice to hear my parents tell me how smart I am, Dr. Ted and Dale gave me a great deal of confidence that the work I’m doing is important – and mostly, they think that I can do it.

Third, my good friend Katie invited me to speak to her Global History summer school class last week. She teaches at a high school in Brooklyn/East New York. I told her that I only accept speaking fees in livestock, so she bought me a hamburger, and we called it even. She requested that I talk about Imperialism in Africa and the Kenyan Independence movement, but the kids wanted to hear more about life in Africa and how you could possibly bathe without a shower. I tried to strike a healthy balance between what might appear on their exam and what they found interesting – always a delicate dance.

I think they learned something and provided me with some good insight (”Instead of taking that gikama shit, I’d just climb a tree and run away” – said one 17-year-old boy in response to a story about the General’s father being accused of adultery and carrying the red-hot iron brick to prove his innocence. I thought the student might want to reconsider the order of events, “running” before “climbing a tree” but commended his idea.).

Katie was delighted with how the presentation went. She did get a little nervous when I started with, “In 1940, African soldiers fought with the British against the Japanese in World War II. There, they learned that the same bullet that would kill an African also killed a white person. For the first time, they realized the Europeans were vulnerable and defeatable.” All-in-all, a very good experience.

Forth, apologies for this very long blog. I will wrap up now and hopefully do another one within a week’s time. Hope everyone is having a lovely summer and doing their part to preserve a little piece of culture and history.

Sending good thoughts – Laura Lee/Nkirote

1 – Waving at this cute old man who rides his bicycle at the same time I go running on the beach – he always smiles and gives me a fist pump.

2 – Gushing about the generous samples that the Publix deli man gave me yesterday while waiting for my sliced meat. He invited me to come back at the same time tonight and provide my hours devours.

I wouldn’t think that I’d be happy like this – the loner, the weird young blonde locked in her room, her bikini only a drawer away, a sunny day outside on the beach…

I’m hunched over my laptop, frantically transcribing hours and hours of material, pumping my foot to control the transcribing pedal device. My phone’s off, the unsecured wireless network is only available sometimes – if you told me how this would be, I probably wouldn’t have come. But, I am so content right now.

I couldn’t figure it out – is my connection to the beach so strong that I forget to be lonely? Is cable television enough to distract me from the void of human contact? Can continuous access to ice cream in my freezer fulfill me as a person?

Then I realized – I’m not alone. I’m back with The General, reconnecting and reliving all of our conversations, all of our time together. From the recording that was interrupted by a big centipede almost falling on my head, to the many sessions that were interrupted by curious children, visiting to meet the strange mzungu – it’s awesome to reconnect with this material. It’s hard, it’s tedious, it’s long – but, oh my gosh, it’s awesome.

In the same day, I’ll be laughing til I cry and then crying til I laugh – I just thank God that I don’t have to do this in a coffee shop.

So…I guess all I’m saying is that I’m so where I need to be right now.  And it feels pretty good.

Hugs from Daytona – Laura Lee/Nkirote

I can’t believe that my time here is up.  I will miss this place, these people, and my life here.  I’m extremely happy with the material that I’ve collected, and I look forward to sharing what The General has taught me.  I know that I haven’t written much about the “nitty-gritty” (quoting a recent email) of my time here, but I’ve been so busy, working hard – meeting with The General or related figures nearly every day, all-day, preparing questions, and reviewing our sessions – that I haven’t posted many specific updates regarding the progress. 

I think that I can use my experience here as a model on which to base future stories and historical preservation throughout the developing world.  I’m excited to get back to the States and make a business plan for The General History Project, Inc. (now an official 501(c)(3) organization!) and organize the material I’ve collected – perhaps in book-form.  At a minimum, I plan to begin the tedious task of transcribing the sessions with The General, so I might disappear for a bit to get the work done.  As always, I welcome any ideas for how to best move this project forward and present the material that I’ve collected along the way. 

So, I will catch everyone up and continue to post information about the project and The General and my Kenyan life after I get back.  But in the meantime, Laura Lee’s coming home…

Kwaheri – LL/Nkirote

“Nkirote, too much of anything is poisonous.” – The General

Many Africans inquire what my English name – Laura Lee – means, and why my parents chose it.  I struggle to make something up or just say, “Um, I don’t know.  I think they just thought it was pretty.”  This does not satisfy Africans.  In many tribes, names and naming ceremonies hold great significance.  In Meru tradition (The General’s tribe), your birth name is given according to the following pattern:

1^st Boy: Named after father’s father

2^nd Boy: Named after mother’s father

3^rd Boy: Named after father’s or grandfather’s brother

4^th Boy: Named after mother’s or grandmother’s brother

1^st Girl: Named after father’s mother

2^nd Girl: Named after mother’s mother

3^rd Girl: Named after father’s or grandfather’s sister

4^th Girl: Named after mother’s or grandmother’s sister

All of these names relate to the actions or character of the person a child is named after.  For instance, if a child is named after a person who likes to cook, she will be called “Murugi” (meaning “a girl who cooks”).  If a child is named after a person who likes to travel, he will be called “Muiti” (meaning “traveler”).

Traditionally, boys would go through an initiation into manhood, culminating in their circumcision around the age of 15.  After circumcision, the boy’s father chose another name for his son, which related to the boy’s own actions.  Because of Western influence, this tradition is not as common today.

If a child died, then the next baby to be born was not named after a person.  Traditionally, the Meru feared that their God would realize another child was born and take them away too.  So you’ll occasionally find someone called “Kiura” or “Kirigu” (meaning “frog” or “banana,” respectively), in an attempt to mislead the God.  Kangai is a common name for a girl who has been adopted, because it means “God-sent.” 

The Meru people also receive an English or Biblical name when they are baptized.  The General’s full name is Japhlet Kithinji King’ua Thambu.

Japhlet – His baptized name (found in Chronicles – he chose it himself)

Kithinji – Named after his Great Uncle, meaning “butcher,” signifying a rich man who always has meat (cows or goats)

King’ua – This is his father’s family name, equivalent to the English last name, meaning “joker”

Thambu – His name given after circumcision, signifying a man who does not like to waste time    

I have been given the name “Nkirote,” which means “generous, a good manager, responsible, and someone who can make a home anywhere because she is easily accommodated.”  The name “Nkatha” means the same thing.  I am proud of my Kimeru name, and I strongly prefer “Nkirote” to “Mzungu” (“white person”). J    

Common Kimeru Names:

Kawira – A hard worker (girl)

Mwenda – One who loves everyone (boy)

Muthomi – Person who likes to study (boy)

Kaimuri – A proud person (girl)

Gatwiri – Someone who finds food for animals (girl)

Kirimi – A person who lies to dig/farm (boy)

Kinyua – Someone who likes to drink (boy)

In the Luo tribe (the tribe of President Obama’s father), names are usually given according the time of birth.  My taxi driver in Nairobi was named “Otieno,” meaning “night,” because he was born at night.  So “Morning, afternoon, and night” are extremely common names.  Names could also mean “harvest” or “planting,” depending on the season of when they were born. 

In Kenya alone there are over 70 tribes, so I will not begin to speak of the naming traditions of all these people, but I think it’s a nice tradition to know the meaning and origin of your name.  So, if you know or meet an African, ask them what their name means and who they are named after.  I predict you’ll get an interesting story.  Also, we should take the opportunity to ask your parents how they chose your name if you don’t know.   

Mom and Dad – feel free to leave a message regarding my name (I think you read my blog?).  J   

Kwaheri – Laura Lee/ Nkirote

This is the view from the house, with The General's tea and surrounding landscape.