bwindi gorillas.

as I mentioned earlier Gabe and I trekked to see mountain gorillas in uganda. here's the story.

Gabe arrived in africa with big ideas - first and foremost was seeing gorillas. of course as they only issue a certain number of permits per day and the gorillas are only in certain parks odds of acquiring a permit this late in the game I thought would be unlikely but worth a try. after rafting and bungee jumping (awesome!) in jinja we headed to kampala to the wildlife authority office. and lucky us they had two slots on the 19th! all we had to do was drop $1000 and get ourselves to the park - the more remote park without public transport. of course. so after hitting up every atm in the area to get all the cash and getting our permits we took the most miserable night bus ride to kabale, uganda. it was cold and cold and we didnt' arrive until 4 am.

the next morning we had a delicious breakfast of french fries and made our way to the gorillas information office in kabale in search of assistance to the park. none was to be found. they wanted us to take a private taxi @ $200 - undoublty a friend or family owned the car. they were incredibly unhelpful and when we suggested motorcycles they said it was too dangerous and if something happened to us they would be held accountable... a) screw you for trying to rip me off, b) like I care if you get in trouble when I'm mangled beyond recognition in a motorcycle accident because you wouldn't be helpful and do your job.

we motorcycled anyway and at a considerable savings. although I must say my ass was flat and sore after 51 km into the hill on the back of a motorcycle, gripping some dude for dear life. super fun though!

we stayed at dinky little place, but it was nice enough, and walked around the day before we hiked to the gorillas.

the morning of the 19th we headed out to the park gate to meet the group. we had to be there by 8. except Gabe and I walked the wrong way. by the time we realized our mistake we were at least 2 miles in the wrong direction (because it was always just around the next corner... stupid jungle) and beginning to panic. we luckily flagged down and man on a bike, who spoke no english, and fortunately a car passed soon after. of course the driver spoke no english but we managed to communicate our need to get to the park gate and he drove us for a small fee.

we arrived at the gate sweaty and just in time.

our party consisted of Gabe and I, an older professorly couple, and a New York tax lawyer and his miserable adult daughter. she may have been the most unpleasant person on the planet.

we set off and within 2 km of mild hiking one of our party turned back due to health concerns (asthma or something) and we pushed on. the hiking wasn't impossible but it wasn't exactly easy. the trail varies and eventually we were no longer on a trail but following a guide with a machete. trackers had gone out it in the morning and tracked the gorillas from where they slept the night before. we hiked up and down two valleys, across a bog and eventually found them!

THEY WERE INCREDIBLE! better than I could have imagined. there were two young gorillas that played, climbed trees and swung from vines. the dominant silverback put us in our place with a tremendous roar. we got within 10ft. of a blackback. I was definitely in awe.

we were allowed to spend an hour with the gorillas and it flew by. and then we had to hike out. and it was the slowest hike I've likely ever experienced. the tax lawyer from new york, despite having boasted to have climbed kilimanjaro last year, was in terrible shape. he panted and literally had to be pulled up the hills (so did his daughter who complained the whole way.) we had to stop even 20-30 ft. for him to have a rest. at one point we thought they were going to have to send in a team of guides to carry him out. ridiculous. he even had a porter carrying his packback.

but we made it out. although a bit slowly. and Gabe and I made our way back down to kabale (via bodaboda) just as the sun was setting. epic adventure. so worth it.

trains and english breakfast.

so Gabe and I are now on the coast of Kenya, Mombasa to be specific, today at least.

I forgot how effing hot it is here. my skin wants to melt off! but I'll be the tannest kid in alaska so I figure its worth it.

given how many buses we've been on and how little fun they are Gabe and I opted to take the bus from Nairobi to Mombasa. they say its on the last great colonial experiences in Kenya. not to mention you can lay down and sleep.

I wouldn't say its the nicest train I've ever been on and it certainly isn't fast but it is exceedingly more pleasant than the bus! we left nairobi and 7 pm and had a nice meal in the dining car around 9:45. we played some cards and read our book. [Gabe and I bought a copy of Pride and Prejudice in Kampala, it was either Jane Austen or a chemistry textbook and we opted for the epic of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy - we've been reading aloud every night because we sure aren't paying enough for accomodations to have TV... yeah, its super cute and super dorky.]

after a somewhat peaceful, as peaceful as a train that has been updated in 40 years can be, sleep we woke to a english breakfast. beans, toast, eggs, sausage and tea. Gabe must drink at least 5 cups of tea a day - he loves it, and has vowed to drink exclusively chai at home.

we arrived in mombasa on time (10 am) because the train didn't break down! we're staying in a lovely hostel that overlooks the indian ocean. we swam as soon as we arrived and we walked around old town Mombasa today and enjoyed some delicious swahili food.

I definitely recommend the train.

pizza.

my host family has been fantastic. since my program ended they've allowed me to store all my stuff at their house and between trips elsewhere have allowed Gabe and I to crash (I even get my clothes washed when I pop in, and all the chai I can drink... and more.) Gabe and Bufi (the youngest son) get along great and have had some epic playstation matchups.

most recently when we were there we offered to cook dinner for them as a sort of thank you for putting up with us.

now neither Gabe nor I is much to write home about in the kitchen but we figured we'd give it our best.

we made grandaddio's famously delicious tomato sauce, pasta, pizza margerita, roasted vegetables, garlic bread and chocolate chip banana bread. nothing too fancy and within our skill level to execute.

I can't say they've been converted to our way of eating however. they politely ate everything and remarked how good it was but they also slathered the pizza and pasta with sugary ketchup (called peptang) and chili sauce... so how much they actually liked it remains unclear.

the chocolate chip banana bread was a huge success however.

merry christmas.

merry christmas to all. and an early happy new year.

Gabe and I half tried to get into the christmas spirit but its a little hard when its 80 degrees. just doesn't feel the same somehow. instead of pining for christmas goodies, trees, family and friends Gabe and I decided to put our efforts to better use and get some sight seeing in. because we didn't make it to serengeti in tanzania we opted for masai mara in kenya (same area, just divided by a border.)

we found a great deal on accomodations and game drives right on the edge of the park. a charming little place run by a german woman - and predominantly frequented by germans as well.

we took a matatu from nairobi to narok and in narok found a bus/matatu/chicken transport vehicle to masai mara/talek gate. the trip from narok to talek is supposed to take around two hours. but the road is unpaved - and as Gabe and I learned in uganda if you have chickens on your bus its a bad sign for a timely arrival. and then it started raining - pouring in fact. so there we were, Gabe and I, wedged with our packs in the back of the bus (which had a couch, among other things, strapped to the roof) as the rain poured in the window. Gabe was next to the window and used my rainjacket as a sort of smock to protect from the rain and ended with quite a pool of water in his lap. babies were crying, the bus was bumping along... and then we came upon another bus stuck in the mud - and spent the next hour unsticking them. what should have been a 2 hour bus ride ended up taking 6. what a christmas eve.

however once we arrived we were treated to a much needed christmas feast! thank god the europeans take christmas as seriously as we do. turkey, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce... the works. it was grand. and delicious.

we slept in a lovely two person canvas tent - very safari like. and on christmas morning woke up early to go driving the park. the morning was fantastic. we saw a pack of hyenas, giraffes, wildebeest, buffalo, impala, gazelle, a glimpse of a lion's tail and two cheetah! Gabe was super stoked on the cheetah.

there are signs all over the park - DO NOT DRIVE OFF ROAD - which our maasai driver completely ignored. on the one hand it was amazing to see the cheetah up close but I couldn't help but feel guilty about destroying so much vegetation just to get close.

we returned to camp for breakfast and in the afternoon returned to the park. in the afternoon we saw more than 12 lions, including males, females and cubs. some had decently brought down a zebra and they were chowing down. some looked so bloated and full - they were laying on their backs, legs in the air with the most swollen bellies I've ever seen. we saw hippos - our driver told us to get out of the car to get a better look at the hippos - they're only the most dangerous animal on the continent...

we didn't see rhinos or elephants but the trip was still a huge success.

on the 26th we woke up at 4:30 for a bumpy ride back to narok and then nairobi. our matatu of course got a flat.

tanzania...well the border anyhow.

we didn't quite make it to tanzania. oh africa, what should have been mildly easy ended up being a trek and a half.

we left kabale, uganda in the morning. we spent the night in a mildly nice hotel in kabale after coming down from bwindi nat'l park and seeing the gorillas. one of our guides gave us a decent price on a ride down on the back of his motorcycle (only a 52 km ride) and got a friend to carry Gabe. it was quite the adventure - my life only flashed before my eyes a few times. but there was something very magical about flying threw the ugandan countryside on the back of a bike. the sun was setting, there was mist on the hills... but I could go on an on.

after the night kabale we were going to attempt to go to tanzania via bus. the grabbed a bus - with the same driver we had from kampala a few days earlier. ugh - that man is the enemy. he tells you the bus is leaving in a hour, the bus actually leaves 4 hours later, and takes nearly twice as long to get there as you expected. not to mention it was freezing cold and we arrived in kabale at 4 am and had to bang on a hotel door to get a room. a $5 room with two mosquito nets tied together to form a high ineffective single mosquito protective device.

needless to say our second bus ride with brian was equally as unsuccessful. we spent 3 hours sitting in a trucker town for no apparent reason (of course the reason being they don't leave until the bus is full to the brim - we had chickens on board both ways.)

we arrived in masaka very late but decided to try and make the border. we borded another bus to mutukula (the border town.) the conductor was very helpful and we it became clear we wouldn't make the border in time he paid for a small car to take us the rest of the way. a small car filled with 9 people. who knew a toyota sedan could hold that many people.

we crammed/flew to mutukula but missed the border by a half hour and had to spend the night. gabe claims it was the worst night of his life. sean paul's delightful music was blaring until 2 am, two cats got into multiple fights that sounded very painful, the loudest mosquitos in history invaded the room and it was hot. needless to say neither of us slept well.

in the morning we made for the border. left uganda and walked across to tanzania only to discover visas for americans cost $100, no exceptions. so we went to the bank for money. except they had no ATM, so we would have had to backtrack all the way to masaka (88km) and then back to border.

needless to say tonight we are in kampala headed back to nairobi. gabe and I decided to time and money weren't worth it. so tonight we catch the bus to nairobi and then we go to masai mara nat'l park instead of serengeti. screw you tanzania.

oh africa!

uganda.

gabe and I are in uganda. first we went whitewater rafting and bungee jumping (three times each) on the nile in jinja. totally epic. no worries there are videos of it all.

now we're in kabale - we trekked to see mountain gorillas in bwindi nat'l park. the experience it nearly indescribable - but I'll do my best as soon as I get more time.

today we're trying to get to tanzania - then ferry across lake victoria - and then onto to see some big animals in serengeti nat'l park.

merry christmas to all - in case we don't see internet before the holidays. its too hot here to celebrate christmas.

Gabe is loving Africa - I think and hope. especially riding bodabodas (motorcycles) all around the uganda countryside.

love to you all.

heinz tomato ketchup.

I'm currently working on a draft of my research paper.

in a cafe with french fries. and HEINZ TOMATO KETCHUP!

do I like ketchup? no.

did I eat and entire bowl of french fries dipped in half a bottle of HEINZ "delicious" TOMATO KETCHUP? absolutely.

I don't want to call it life changing... but it was magical.

no, I don't know kanye west.

I'm currently working on my independent study project. I've chosen to study child welfare in kenya, essential how do they deal with issues of child abuse. I'm looking at what legislation is on the books, how/if its been implemented, etc. its just the most uplifting topic. because believe it or not kid aren't better off in the developing world. go figure.

my professor provided me with a contact, his name is Joseph and he's a pastor as well as running an NGO (I think.) he's a nice guy with good intentions, although a bit misplaced. and still agreed to help me out even after learning I don't attend church. I'm convinced he snorted/coughed/gagged simultaneously when I stupidly mentioned I don't really subscribe to the whole organized religion thing. whoops. he's working with my professor (again, I think, because he talks and talks and eventually despite my best efforts I stop listening, because african men talk using metaphors and analogies and he loses me after ten minutes) on some sort of cultural tourism project in his home district, western kenya. he's also working with an American woman who also runs an NGO to set up internet kiosks in western kenya.

the idea is that these internet kiosks will help generate revenue for women's groups in the region. the region has been really affected by the AIDS pandemic and there are loads of orphans these communities are having to look after. from the revenue these kiosks earn some will go back into the operation of the kiosk and the rest will be used for
other community based projects... like sustainable agriculture, small scale (again, I think.)

anyways, this guy has been super helpful, because as an american and a student and not having my own NGO I would have trouble accessing a lot of the information or least accessing the buildings (because invariably you go and the information isn't there and no one has heard of the document you're looking for) I've been able to.

this guy is really all about connections. and he really doesn't understand how anything in the US works. he introduced me to the assistant to the mp (member of parliament) for his district, a creepy man who saw white and smelled money and proceeded to hit on me shamelessly. joseph said the man could arrange a tour of parliament for me, which would be pretty cool, although an afternoon with creepy mr. creeperson does not sound all that appealing. of course then joseph said that at some point he will have to come to the US and fundraise and then I'll be able to get him a tour of our parliament and introduce him to our government officials. a) we don't have a parliament, b) they offer tours of congress but I personally do not have the hookup, c) this man clearly has no idea where alaska is, and d) I'll write to obama and see if I can get him to clear his schedule but don't hold your breath. wanna meet sean parnell instead? although I doubt I could swing even that.

joseph asked what my parents do, I told him my dad is biologist for the government and my mom works on grants for the government (obviously basic and simplistic interpretations of the hard work they both do.) and he immediately said, "Oh so if we need money to get this project started your mother could help us write grants..." and "So your father would be interested in helping with the environmental tourism side of the project..." of course he's saying all this and I still really have no clue what his whole project is about, plus he has no project proposal. and then he goes on to say "It would be easier to work with your Dad if he had an NGO..."

yeah, because my dad's about to start up an environmental tourism NGO in kenya. that makes sense.

and I, being an idiot, mentioned in passing (and foolishly) that I had a uncle who was an agricultural economist and had done work in developing countries - which I was pretty sure is true. and of course, Joseph is all about networking and contacts. and is now all about my uncle... who's actually job is... well I'm not sure.

he asked me about fundraising, something I know nothing about... I mentioned I'd kinda/sorta helped with a fundraiser for a friend this summer and we'd raised $20,000. which in turn means I know everything about fundraising and could I get in touch with coca-cola and get them to sponsor a concert in kenya. yeah, let me call up my sweet contacts at coke. he wanted to know if I knew any celebrities that could perform at some concert for funds... yeah, cause I'm in the know with kanye west and george clooney. damn, I left my address book at home.

ahhhhh alaska, celebrity mecca.

asante-giving.

happy thanksgiving.

here we've been talking about thanksgiving for months. probably since we arrived in kenya. and we had big plans. big, delicious plans.

after quite a bit of searching we finally tracked down a turkey. we hadn't been able to find one and had either thought of: a) switching to chicken (yuck!) or b) trying to catch one of the mangey wild turkeys that run around kibera slum (double yuck!) so finding a 7 kilo turkey was a huge coup. of course we didn't have a dish to cook it in, anything big enough to defrost it in, or really any idea what we were doing.

we washed out one of our plastic wash basins (because we do our clothes by hand, I suck) and let the turkey ghetto defrost in purple tub in our pantry. the problem then became that the turkey didn't fit in our abnormally small oven. we borrowed a giant stew pot and stuck the turkey on its end... to wild success.

in the end our thanksgiving feast included:

• turkey
• mashed potatoes
• candied sweet potatoes
• vegetarian stuffing
• gravy
• beef (because the pork looked scary) stuffing
• macaroni 'n cheese
• dinner rolls
• salad with fresh mango and citrus
• banana bread
• zucchini bread
• brownies
• pecan pie
• vanilla ice cream
• tusker
• wine (carlo rossi - the jug! classy!)
• champagne (andré - only the best!)
• boiled water

it was a freakin' feast. as we totally pulled it off.

after two failed roll recipes (the first didn't rise enough, the second rose too much) my rolls (thanks mom!) turned out perfectly. I made a spectacular pie crust from scratch (thanks google) that was perfectly flakey. the turkey was juicy and delicious despite its ghetto beginnings.

our guests included other american students, professors, kenyan friends and some host family members. our kenyan guests had never experienced thanksgiving before and were obviously overwhelmed by the variety of food/the amount they were expected to eat in one sitting.

we also tried to explain the story of the first thanksgiving, the kid friendly version - pilgrims, indians, turkey, pumpkins and friendship - and the version that includes smallpox, syphilis, genocide, trails of tears and reservations. not sure we really conveyed why thanksgiving is such a GREAT holiday...

we sat and ate by the pool at our apartment and had just the most lovely early dinner.

it was the best thanksgiving I could hope for given that I couldn't be at home. nothing burnt, the company was good, I ate too much, and now the dishes are done.

I hope you all have equally delicious, and wonderful thanksgivings.

salty soul.

on saturday night I went to a concert. maureen, a kenyan friend, said a really good band was playing near the museum, so my roommates and I decided to check it out.

our plan was to find a restaurant near city centre and grab some dinner first. indian was the plan. of course seeing as how my guidebook is three years old I should've known the likelihood of the restaurant being there was slim. we didn't find it, and after walking through a very sketchy part of nairobi settled on a very kenyan establishment. mmmhmmm nothing like a greasy omelet and chapati when you were banking on chicken tikka masala.

after a somewhat disappointing dinner we cabbed over to museum hill and club galileo. I should've guessed when we stepped out of the cab and everyone was dressed to nines that this was a bigger deal than I'd anticipated.

we bought our tickets and walked it, failing to notice the red carpet to our right. just as we'd entered the place and were about to buy a few tuskers a woman asked if she could interview us... on the red carpet.

of course keep in mind we had NO idea who the band was, what kind of music they played or anything.

but who passes up an opportunity to be interviewed on tv, on a red carpet no less? not me.

as we walked over to the red carpet we quietly asked a man sitting at a table the name of the band. his response, "wait, you've never heard of them?" well, clearly not, if we're asking. what he said sounded like "salty soul." and then we were on the red carpet.

kiss tv is like the kenyan equivalent of what mtv used to be in the states. they show music videos 24/7. so there we were, standing on the red carpet, in front of a giant kiss tv billboard, being interviewed for television about something we knew nothing about.

the interview went something like this:

interviewer: so have you heard of the band?

us: yeah, "salty soul" (name drop for authenticity) is great.

interviewer: which song are you most excited to hear?

us: all of them. we hear they're great live.

interviewer: you're not from here right?

us: no. (really? is it that obvious?) we're from the states.

interviewer: what other kenyan acts do you like?

us: nameless is great. (nameless is also the only other kenyan artist any of us could name... and he's not that good.)

interviewer: well enjoy the show.

us: thanks.

of course we find out later the band is called "sauti sol," but my hope is we said it fast enough no one in viewing audience could tell we had no idea what we were talking about.

the band played. they sounded a bit like boyz 2 men but were all dressed like kanye west... glasses, red pants, suspenders... go figure. but definitely entertaining.

plus I'm well on my way to becoming a kenyan celeb.

matatu.

ah, public transport in nairobi. always an adventure.

today my friend becca and I grabbed a matatu into kibera. becca is working on a project with a girl's school in kibera slum and I volunteered to help her with arts and crafts day.

matatus are fourteen passenger vans that provide cheap transport around nairobi and all of kenya. they are considerably less regulated that the public buses. matatus are decorated with pictures of rappers (most commonly rick ross for some strange reason), quotes from the bible, cash $ symbols and other random things. music blares inside and you can't hear yourself think. although the limit is fourteen passengers that is never adhered to, and its not uncommon to sitting on someone or be sat upon. robbery is common in matatus and you really have to watch yourself.

today was no exception.

we boarded the matatu, becca and I being passengers 13 and 14, and three people boarded after us. a man pushed squished me in, so it was becca and I seated (wedged) between two youngish kenyan men. the man sitting next to me had a bag with a magazine in it. as becca and I talked the man proceeded to inch the bag over my bag (which was on my lap.) all of a sudden I felt a slight poke and realized the man was trying to unzip my bag to get at the goodies with in. he'd managed to unzip it almost enough to get a hand in before I noticed. very sneaky... I glared at him, moved my bag and re-zipped it. I turned to becca and said, "so this guy is trying to rob me right now..." at which point she noticed the man next to her had moved his jacket on top of her bag and was in the process of trying to rob her.

as becca moved her bag out of mr. grabby hands' way the matatu driver told everyone to put on their seatbelts because there was police check up ahead. at this point a shuffle in the matatu began as people tried to find seatbelts. the man sitting next me half stood up and tried to squeeze in between becca and I while attempting to reach into becca's back pocket.

at this point we'd had enough and demanded the matatu driver pull over and we got out.

matatu rides - sometimes you get a good one, sometimes you get a REALLY BAD one.

maasai.

while in tanzania we spent three days with the maasai. driving on insanely questionable roads, we drove three hours from arusha. arusha is green, the weather is temperate, it rained nearly ever night we were there. maasai land is a completely different story. it hasn't rained there in months. the land was cracked and dust billowed across empty expanses - save for a few huts dotting the landscape. riding with the window of our bus open my arm was gray and ashy by the time we arrived. the only plants are acacia trees with very few leaves and the occasional aloe plants that are more gray in color than green.

after darting off the road in our sweet land rover we drove the bush - the maasai don't exactly have paved roads to their bomas (houses.) we passed a young maasai herding goats and asked for directions, he point generally into the distance (real helpful) and asked for water. the drought has hit the maasai hard. not only has the river completely dried up, there is no pasture for their cattle, and the women walk at least five kilometers everyday for water. the maasai we visited had sent some of the young men off with the cattle to ngorogoro conservation area in hopes of finding pasture there. unfortunately upon arriving half the cattle died due to a lack of immunity to diseases in ngorogoro (the land around ngorogoro crater was littered with the bones of dead cattle and maasai herding bones in cow's clothing.) yet despite their recent hardships the maasai were incredibly welcoming.

we stayed in tents just outside the maasai village. no toilets, no showers. just acacia everywhere. the maasai still live in the traditional bomas - mud and sticks. the bomas are surrounded by thorny acacias cut down and placed as a fence - to keep out lions, they say. the huts in surround a central paddock where the cattle and goats hang out at night. they cook indoors and entering a maasai boma will send you into a coughing, eye-watering fit - there's that much smoke. supposedly the tanzanian government is providing food aid (maize) to the maasai because with the drought they are unable to sustain their traditional way of life.

we spent time beading with the maasai women - the old woman sitting next to me was unimpressed with the color combinations I chose and kept throwing beads at me. she also hated the pattern I made (I thought it was nice a symmetrical) and further encouraged new patterns my grabbing my hand and forcing new beads on me.

the women are beautiful. tall, slim and very dark. their tartan and intricate beadwork are glorious.

the men are an intimidating bunch. wiry, muscly and slim, they walk around with tire shoes, tartan and really awesome walking sticks (which also serve countless other purposes.)

our first night in maasai land there was an elephant near the bomas. our academic directors were inclined (for legitimate safety reasons) not to let us go look for it. so we convinced some of the younger maasai men (through an elaborate miming operation - the maasai don't speak english or swahili for the most part, and we certainly didn't speak Ma) to take us to look for the elephant. it was pretty incredible. they know their land and its animals so well. we roamed around the bush as the maasai tracked the elephant - all aragorn the ranger style. although we never actually saw the elephant - it got dark too quickly - it was an amazing experience.

we woke up the next morning early, 5:30, and hiked into the hill to watch the sunrise over kilimanjaro. it was nice to see snow. kilimanjaro is something else. it dwarfs its surroundings and rises so remarkably from the flats of the plains.

our second day we had a goat sacrifice. one of the girls on the program missed the memo, I think. she grew very attached to the goat, even naming it marshmallow and grew very alarmed when one of the maasai began smothering it. they smother the animal, I think, because then all the blood rushes to the stomach, the reasoning of which becomes apartment when the cut the animal up.

after marshmallow died he was immediately skinned, very expertly using a machete. the meat was then cut off in sections. I received warrior meat to try i.e. raw kidney. it was still warm and tasted salty and bloody. I'm not super eager to eat it again, in all honesty, although I did fell a bit emboldened. some of the meat was cooked over an open fire (started by rubbing two sticks together - took them 30 seconds - as often as I tried I was never successful at that as a kid) and some was boiled in a stew (tasted a lot like dirt and blood.) when the goat's body cavity was pretty hollowed out, save for copious amount of blood, the maasai dumped some cooked bits in and slurped it up. I will say the most intimidating thing I've ever seen is a maasai man hunched over a goat he killed not 10 minuted before, eating the raw meat off his machete and slurping blood into his mouth, as it dribbles down his chin. nothing like it.

we sat around the campfire one night and asked questions through a translator. they asked questions back. we asked a question about rites of passage, i.e. male/female circumcision. they responded in turn with a similar question and thought it was hilarious that all people in our culture aren't circumcised. a fellow student, originally from japan, explained that in japan no one is circumcised, and from the this the maasai determined japan is country of children because no one is ever circumcised into adulthood. bizarre.

our last night we went and danced with the maasai. dancing involved a lot more jumping than I'm used to and the maasai children seemed to find my lack of rhythm/jumping ability particularly amusing. nothing quite like watching the maasai jump by starlight with kilimanjaro illuminated in the background.

all in all it was a fantastic experience. as in many of my experiences in east africa being male would have made it a bit easier. the maasai were much more comfortable with the guys in the group. they didn't seem to know what to make of women/girls who weren't completely deferential to men. ugh.

regardless, its impressive that people still live so traditionally. some children go to school and they use plastic water jugs, so some things have changed but you can imagine people living in reasonably the same way for generations. what remains to be seen is if the maasai can hold onto their culture as everything changes around them.

blessed be the panther.

my trip to tanzania was more than fantastic. and absolutely bizarre from start to finish.

our hostel was run by a former black panther in exile. he left the states in the early 70's after, what he calls, a bogus gun charge, and hasn't been back since. he runs what you might call a socialist compound way off the beaten path near arusha, tanzania. nice enough guy. has clearly mellowed with age. his dog has a dreaded tail and the walls of the compound are tagged with pictures of malcolm x and martin luther king jr. and slogans like "power to the people."

we went to the war crimes tribunal for rwanda which is held in arusha. very interesting. they've managed to accomplish a great deal in a fairly short amount of time. it was pretty intense to sit their and listen to witness testimony about people being slaughtered in churches - sitting 15 feet from the men who essentially ordered the killings.

we climbed up to 9,000 ft. on kilimanjaro. in a rain storm. I'm not sure I've ever been so drenched hiking before - but once we started we were all pretty determined to reach the first camp. the guides and porters we passed are some of the most hardcore people. climbing kilimanjaro had some appeal before actually seeing how its done in tanzania. porters carry everything for the wazungu hiking up the mountain. they balance huge bundles on their heads while wearing second hand columbia/rei gear (purple and teal - real old school.) we brought lunches with us but when we arrived at the hut porters had hiked up spaghetti, what I'll call pizza rolls (with cabbage and terrible east african cheese), fried potatoes and metal silverware. it felt like cheating.

going down was exciting. the rain persisted during lunch. we were soaked and freezing. the trail is well maintained but its still mud and small rivers were running everywhere. myself, two other students decided to jog out the 8 or so kilometers and our guide (because you have to have one) joined us. I fell three times and rolled my ankle (not badly) once. classic gilia hiking trip I would say. people hiking up looked at us like we were nuts - our guide mentioned people don't normally jog off of kilimanjaro. I was a sight when we finished. covered head to toe in mud, blood and soaking wet. most attractive I've looked in this part of the world. scraped my butt pretty good, luckily not in the same place as before (good story for those who haven't heard it), as I feared - cause I would just love those scars to be darker.

we also spent three days with the maasai but that's a story for another time. let's just say it involved dancing, beading, cattle, goat sacrifices, raw kidney and lots of dust.

we visited the hadzabe as well. they are one of the last remaining hunter gatherer cultures in the world. they live a crazy life. the climate they live in is so harsh and unforgiving I can't imagine having to subsist there. we shot bows and arrows, made fire (the old fashioned way, two sticks) and danced. they smoke loads of marijuana - I probably would too if I lived like they do. apparentl they never turn up for the census so when the tanzanian government conducted the last one they bribed the hadzabe with weed. they handed out free marijuana to any hadzabe that showed up to be counted. hehe ...

our last day was spent at ngorogoro crater which I could try to describe but I'm not sure I have the words. it is easily one of the most incredible places I've ever been. we drove up the crater's side in the morning mist, saw lions mating, descended into the crater just as the sunlight was breaking through the clouds. it was like jurassic park meets the lion king meets the land before time meets awesome. we drove around in out safari vehicle (with the pop top - best ever!) for hours and saw lions, cheetahs, water buffalo, wildebeest, hippos, gazelle, elephants, ostrich, zebra, vultures, hyenas ... it was PHENOMENAL!

shorts.

well, learned my lesson the hard way. yesterday evening I was walking down the street on my way to get a cold tusker. a rather shabby looking, possibly mentally confused man asked my friend, denis, for some money. denis said no and the man turned to me and asked. I said no as well.

I should've mentioned I was wearing shorts. not short shorts. I mean on a normal sized person the shorts I was wearing might have been short but on me they were fairly modest. and it was hot and humid. I stick out anyway, no matter what clothes I wear I'm still white, why shouldn't I at least be comfortable in the blistering african heat. here's why:

after I told the man "no" I passed him. and as I passed he took his dirty, long finger-nailed hand and reached right up my shorts for a full ass grab. and I freaked. I batted his hand away, turned around and let loose some of the most foul language I've ever unleashed on another human being. my friend denis grabbed me and pulled me away, clearly confused why I'd instantaneously lost my mind.

two tuskers later I calmed down...

mt. elgon nat'l park.

we were alloted four days this past weekend to prepare for our independent study project. obviously, I was not all interested in preparing to do research or work, so I opted to go hiking instead. I talked ceaselessly about it for a good two weeks and finally had a few other students convinced that instead of work we should get lost in a national park.

I'd read about Mt. Elgon National Park, which hosts the second highest peak in Kenya (second to Mt. Kenya) and yet receives next to none of the human traffic. we took a bus from nairobi to kitale (near the ugandan border) which they predict takes six hours and invariably takes nine. you do get to see some beautiful country though. we drove across the equator and saw the rift valley. the rift valley escarpment is really something else. so we arrived late in kitale and didn't have time to make the park before night feel. we found the shadiest hotel we could, the bongo lodge. we asked the reception guy about the best way to get to the park in the morning and he said he'd look into it for us. we went and had dinner (they had nothing on the menu, because they never do, why they have menus is beyond me...) and when we arrived back at our room two men claiming to be from KWS (kenya wildlife service) were waiting for us. they invited themselves into our room and proceeded to bombard us with information. it was helpful and yet insanely creepy. after navigating through the information and piecing together what we could use they left and we passed out, five people in two double beds.

the next morning we took a taxi to the gate of the national park. mt. elgon national park clearly receives very few visitors. they seemed surprised to see us. we paid our park fews and declined a guide/ranger. according to everything I've read, and the signs posted at the park entrance a ranger (with crazy giant elephant shotgun) is mandatory. UNLESS you sign your life away at the gate, which we happily did. five american students in a foreign national park, with crazy animals and none of the right gear ... what could possibly go wrong? right?

prior to this trip I'd tried to go to the mountain club of kenya to get advice on the trip. but of course they are only open one night a week, after dark and unless I take a taxi I can't leave my house after dark because its too dangerous. so it's not like I tried to do this hike blindly, its just kind of the way it turned out. anyways, we bought some really terrible maps (the official maps look like a toddler drew them) at the entrance and sort of hoped for the best.

so the first day we hiked probably twenty miles. I'm not sure my fellow hikers were prepared for how hard I wanted to push, haha, but I wanted to see everything and we only had a few days. but they were troopers. we made it almost all the way to the end of the 4WD road. oh yeah, turns out you can drive all the way to back of the park if you have your own vehicle which cuts out like two days of walking. so when everything I read said a two day trip, turns out they meant if you drive almost the entire way. but that's just not how I do things, driving shmiving, plus I don't have a car here.

we hiked until dusk, around 5:30 (we started at around 9:30) and got the tents up just as it started to rain. I should also mention we bought tent at the kenyan equivalent of walmart for $26 each. it was completely up in the air wether or not they would be waterproof or windproof at all. luckily they turned out to be pretty rainproof (we brought tarps as well, just in case.) the first night we camped around 9,000 ft. it was cold as hell! a sleeping pad would have been lovely, but we didn't freeze. we used the tarps to catch rain water for drinking. in the middle of the night john got up to use the bathroom and swore he saw eyes in the darkness staring at him (he claimed they were 5 inches apart.) needless to say between the eyes in the darkness and cold none of us slept very well.

the second day of hiking we made it the road's end and began to climb up towards Lower Elgon and Mt. Koitoboss. we hiked through brush, on what I'm convinced was a game trail (the hoof marks gave it away) and through an obscene amount of mud. my feet were soaked. we stopped for lunch, my guess is 2,000 ft. from the summit, and the weather started coming in fast. stupid elevation. it makes the going slow and the weather unpredictable. as we were up around 12,000 ft. and it looked like rain and we were tired and we wanted time to get down and find a camp we opted not to summit. I was definitely bummed. when we arrived back at the end of the road rain and fog had completely engulfed the summit but also our lunch spot. definitely made a good choice in turning around. it would have been miserable and dangerous up there.

it wasn't raining lower on the slopes so we opted to hike out a ways before camping. we passed out first night's camp and continued on. we had a good camping spot in mind that we'd seen the day before. but as we neared our desired spot the trail was thrashed. there were giant gashes in the forest and mud everywhere. huge trails led through the bamboo forest. and there were giant piles of dung. oh yeah, and the biggest footprints I've ever seen. we'd been commenting the whole way how much this place reminded us of jurassic park. this really felt like it. only instead of looking out for t-rex we were looking out for elephants. FREAKING ELEPHANTS!

mt. elgon national park used to be known for elephants. they were poached heavily and roughly 400 remain but people in kitale and at the park entrance (and my guidebook) said they were rarely sighted. of course, the wreckage was everywhere so we were wary. we turned a corner and I looked down into the valley below and there was a giant brown mass ... pulled out the binocs (thanks Dad!) and low and behold ... ELEPHANT! right there, in the wild, staring straight up at us. this was of course maybe the greatest thing ever to happen. except that now we couldn't camp anywhere near there and had to keep walking ... and we were exhausted. poor lindsay, she had at least 12 blisters. but we powered on until there was no more elephant wreckage and then we pushed further just to be sure.

we camped the second night it what can ONLY be described as middle earth. it was the most amazing old growth forest, moss, and lush vegetation. it was so beautiful. we had a illegal mini-fire and slept like rocks.

on our last day in the park we hiked out most of the way to the most amazing caves I've ever seen. they were so badass! one is known to have elephants in it at night carving the walls with their tusks looking for salt. the second has a waterfall in front and is amazingly picturesque.

after that we stumbled out of the park and taxied out to kitale.

it was one of the best trips ever! everything worked out so well. we had enough water (thank you rain and water filters) and food (although if I never see peanut butter again it'll be too soon) and the tents held up. everyone powered through with the help of lots of Ibuprofen. we saw elephants, black and white colobus monkeys, baboons, blue monkeys, bushbucks, waterbucks, duikers, giants senecios, bats and so much other amazing stuff!

thanks to lindsay, greta, denis and john for coming along and being such good sports, blisters, rain, animals and all!

swahili.

took my final swahili exam this afternoon.

swahili imemaliza. ninafurahi sana. sasa ninaweza kusema kiswahili kidogo. ninapenda kiswahili, kiswahili ni rahisi sana lakini sipendi noun classes. leo nilizungumza kuhusu jamaa yangu katika america. ninapenda jamaa yangu katika america. na ninapenda mrafiki zangu. juma iliopita tutaenda uganda au tanzania. nikienda tanzania ningependa kuenda mt. kilimanjaro. leo mimi ni mgonjua kwa sababu juzi nilikunywa maji chafu.

the examiner said my grammar was good and although my vocabulary was relatively small I had a good handle on it. not bad for one month of swahili classes.

mamas.

the mtv africa music awards. why go? why not.

so we went. and it was great. wyclef mc'd and akon performed along with countless other african artists I'd never heard of. there was a push-up contest on stage and an akon/wyclef striptease. wyclef dissed on lauryn hill.

after leaving the show we stopped at kenchic for chicken and fries. there were accosted by a fellow who was fairly insistent about painting our nails. after spying his bottle of glue (huffing is tragically very common in kenya) we declined.

we then had to convince a cab driver to take us home at two in the morning. cab drivers don't normally drive through our part of town late a night - too dangerous, they say. and I'm beginning to understand why. as we drove along kibera road we came across a man beating a woman senseless in the middle of the street while at least ten people looked on. at which point out cab driver says, "you can't force love" and continued to drive...

cholera.

before you panic...pretty sure I don't have cholera. I mean there is an outbreak in part of the country and I may have similar symptoms but luckily I can trace mine back to some really poor decision making.

it all started with a mosquito. ugh.

I accidentally left my bedroom window open a few nights back and a few of those bloodsuckers found their way into my sanctuary of slumber. okay, so sanctuary of slumber is a bit of an overstatement. I'm convinced the neighborhood dogs are fighting hyenas every night outside our compound, its eight million degrees, and cars are constantly screeching by...so, peaceful it is not...but I digress...

those damn mosquitos were buzzing in my ear for hours. it seemed like days. but of course being half asleep and lazy I kept shooing them away or smacking myself in the head. after a good two hours of constantly smacking myself in the head and on the verge of being mildly concussed I woke up enough to make a conscious effort to kill every last living, buzzing thing in my room.

needless to say it involved a lot of awkward leaping, jumping and flailing.

I worked up quite the thirst but alas was out of bottled water. so I ventured to the bathroom tap...great plan! and proceeded to drink a good liter of unfiltered, delicious, I-live-next-to-a-giant-slum-with-no-proper-sewer water and go back to bed.

I'll spare you the details of the last few days but I've become intimately acquainted with any and all available bathrooms in my vicinity. and I've got to give it the good ol' gastrointestinal system...impressive waste removal system.

gotta go wash my hands.

rain.

you know how the south african swim team at the olympics is always white? I figured out why.

yesterday for the first time in a long time it rained. given the drought I expected kenyans to be stoked it was raining. you know, the country is on the verge of starvation, the rivers are dry, etc. rain should cause some mild celebration. nope. I've never seen kenyans move that fast... if they weren't sprinting ungodly fast for home they were lined up against the building attempting to wait it out.

I forget when its dark out that just because I can't see their faces doesn't mean they can't see mine. compared to people here I might as well radioactively glow in the dark. after a bit I realized I was the only person still walking on the road, and everyone else was just staring at me. nothing like being white and soaking wet to call attention to yourself.

I have a hunch this country may come to screeching halt come the rainy season.

wolverine hair.

while in the village the women who lived around me decided to give me a gift or play a practical joke, at this point I'm not sure which it was. around eid girls/women of a certain age are apparently decked out in henna. I was completely ignorant of this custom.

one day after I returned from class they surrounded me and began jabbering in swahili. I figured out when I arrived in shirazi that nodding and saying "sawa" which means "okay" was generally a good policy. sure it meant I got dressed up like a clown and taken on the longest, hottest walks of my life, but hey, it hadn't led me too far astray. so I nodded and said "sawa sawa" and was immediately plopped down on what I'm convinced was the hardest patch of dirt in the village .... for the next four hours.

they grabbed my feet and hands and began drawing what can only be described as honeycomb pyramids all over them. then they pulled out the henna and began painting the honeycombs, the bottoms of my feet, my toenails, and fingernails... after three hours the henna had dried and I thought my ordeal was nearing its end. oh no! then they whipped out the black hair dye. PERMANENT black hair dye. the box had a happy looking asian couple on the front, clearly elated about their glossy black locks. I was less elated.

they covered the nice, brown, not permanent henna with black hair dye. so I had PERMANENT black honeycombs on my feet and hands. my toenails and fingernails were black. I confess it was not my best look.

I scrubbed solidly for 3 weeks, in the salt water, in the sand, in the shower, with soap, without soap, when I was sweaty, when I wasn't. after awhile the black began to fade and I'm elated to say I am now honeycomb free. the black has faded from my finger and toenails which now have an orange (from the henna) and black marbled look. they look like their all going to fall off. real pretty.

the most unfortunate realization I've had is that I have a fine layer of hair on my hands, fingers, feet and toes which is all now JET BLACK. awesome.

maasai badassery.

I have yet to see anything more badass in kenya than the maasai – well maybe a rick ross matatu (but more on that later.) take the coolest person you know (its okay if you’re thinking of me) and multiply their awesomeness by a million.

people in nairobi make fun of the maasai all the time, and they’ve certainly gotten a raw deal over the years but they might be the COOLEST people ever. I mean it take a certain confidence to herd your cattle through the middle of an enormous city, right?

example: when we were in the village, chilling down by the water this motor boat sped into the dock. no sooner had it bumped the dock then out jumped two maasai in all their red and purple plaid wearing, gauged ear, thin muscled glory. strapped at their side were two machetes. they walked up the dock and off into the village and left us completely in awe. also they just left their boat, apparently knowing no one would dare mess with it. they were like the maasai mod squad of awesome.

maybe it the traditional diet of milk and cow’s blood. maybe its their ability to rock crazy plaids better than the scottish ever could. I mean they wear shoes made of car tires. I can’t quite put my finger on it. but damn.

maternal heartstrings.

a few weeks ago my host sister took me to nyumbani, which means home in swahili. she volunteers there every day before school. nyumbani is a home for aids orphans. cutest kids ever. I helped feed the infants and put them down for naps and played with the kids under two. I got mobbed by the toddlers. just visualize eight little kids simultaneously climbing all over me, like their own person white bounce-y castle.

some were orphaned when their parents died of aids, others were abandoned when their parents discovered their condition. they were all adorable. really sweet and mostly happy. their caretakers are lovely and very nurturing.

while I had a fantastic time playing with the kids I was terrified, in fact, I was straight up panicked. a) before arriving I was nervous I would be overcome with what I have dubbed angelina jolie-it is, the need to adopt everything and anything helpless. I mean if infant aids orphans don’t pull at your maternal heartstrings, what will? b) I was pretty convinced I was going to break one of the infants. my host sister laughed hysterically at my expense. she said I looked scared to death of the babies. it turns out I have no natural instincts when it comes to babies. I know you aren’t supposed to drop them. but apart from that I got nothing.

I dodged both bullets. didn’t drop any babies (score!) and left childless.

but if you know anyone looking to adopt…

bite marks.

The term is three-in-one. A room used as the bedroom, living room and kitchen. This room had two beds, a few chairs, a makeshift countertop with a stove, and a bookshelf that housed books so dusty the covers were illegible. The room itself could not have been more than ten feet by ten feet. A single mosquito net hung from the ceiling, and clothes adorned the walls. This room is home to a single mother and her four children. The mother is a client of WOFAK – Women Fighting AIDS in Kenya. Diagnosed with HIV in February the mother has been struggling to come to terms with her condition.

WOFAK began working with the mother three months ago (date of our visit: September 11,th 2009) after she was referred to them from her diagnosing hospital. She had been sick for some time and sought treatment only to discover she is HIV positive. On their first visit WOFAK found the house in a state of disrepair. All the pots and pans were dirty, the sheets had not been washed in some time, and there were no clean clothes and no food to be found. The children were dirty and underfed. Upon receiving her diagnosis the mother had begun to neglect herself, her home and her children. The eldest daughter (eight years old) was playing mother to the other three children (a boy age four and twin girls age two.) Although she is of school age she had not been attending school to look after her siblings. Their mother is gone during the day, although she works only sporadically, and returns at night and promptly retires to bed. Their mother has a bed to herself, the eldest daughter shares with the twins and the boy sleeps on the floor. The twins were well behind developmentally, unable to walk at age two. The mother had also begun taking out her frustrations on the eldest girl. The girl was covered in scars. The scars were bite marks from her mother, and they covered her back and shoulders. One on her cheek had just begun to heal.

By the time of our visit there were some small differences. The twins where walking. There was food – WOFAK provides food everyday. The room was reasonably clean. However, much remained the same. The mother was absent. The eight-year-old daughter was not in school. The scars from wounds inflicted by her mother were still very fresh.

According to WOFAK they have submitted a request to have the children removed from the home. The upper management of WOFAK and then the governmental organization that handles child abuse must handle the request. Only then will the children be, at the very least, temporarily removed from the home. WOFAK believes that if the mother can receive the psychosocial support she needs she may in time be able to care for her children. According to the staff, she has made progress since working with WOFAK, and they’ve seen the clear evidence of minor improvements among the wellbeing children.

The children were extremely pleasant during our visit. The toddlers played on the bed, as their sister looked on. The eight-year-old girl answered the questions of the WOFAK staff. She looked tired. She was very thin, but smiled almost continuously. The four-year-old boy was in and out of the room playing with friends. According to WOFAK staff he is the mother’s favorite child and he looked to be the healthiest.

Despite the condition of these children and the neglectful behavior of their mother they remain in the home. WOFAK staff visits as often as they can, and during the visit another community health worker stopped by to ensure the children had eaten. She said she stops in everyday, because she often finds the children have not eaten by the afternoon. The WOFAK workers repeated that they felt the mother was under a great deal of stress, which is why she is unable to care for her children properly. They cited her recent HIV diagnosis, the fact that she has next to no education, little money, and four children to look after. According to the staff members she views her children as an unnecessary burden.

There are two reasons these children have remained in an abusive home. First, WOFAK believes the mother will in time have the capacity to take care of her children, once she has come to terms with her diagnosis and is back on her feet. Second, the process by which children are removed from abusive homes is slow. The recommendation has to be made from the WOFAK staff and passed through their chain of command and onto the government agency that handles child welfare. Bureaucracy takes time. Kenyan bureaucracy, I would imagine, takes longer. The WOFAK staff said that in the past if the government failed to act they themselves have removed children from the homes and looked after them while the government agencies played catch-up. Yet, they have been working with this individual family for upwards of three months. The children are still neglected and the eldest is certainly still abused regularly. The children remain with their mother, a mother who has exhibited no interest in their wellbeing.

WOFAK is understaffed, underfunded and overburdened. But the work they do is important. Without the support of an effective government agency to promptly handle reports of child abuse their work becomes harder, and real change is near impossible.

The above was part of a report I wrote for our program. I wanted to share this experience because I think about that little girl every day. I’ve never felt so helpless of frustrated. In Alaska, having work for Covenant House and been a mandated reporter, I would have known exactly what do. But here I had no idea. I had no number to call, no social worker to remove the children immediately. I bitch and moan at home about how ineffective The Office of Children’s Services is, and don’t bet me wrong, I stand by that…but here, it’s another ballgame. When I asked repeatedly at what point they would remove the children from the home themselves the WOFAK workers didn’t have an answer for me.

twenty-three.

I think I just turned twenty-three. it was definitely one of the most bizarre birthdays in recent memory, if not ever. as we were in the village it would have been hard to celebrate in any way normally, but who likes normal anyway. the other students, bless them, arranged for a bit a fiesta in the evening, on the 24th. someone brought rum from mombasa and we thought we'd all sit around, drink some rum (I hoped out of coconuts) and look at the stars.

I neglected to mention my birthday to the family I was living with. mostly, I was bummed not be celebrating at home, and in kenya birthdays aren't a big deal, especially in the village because they don't know their birthdays (ps. they tell time by the sun! the equator is a crazy place.) I told them I had a school meeting (a lie we students decided upon together) at 8 and would be back later. well they insisted (despite my protests) on walking me to the designated location (a room in a house near the water with bars on the windows) so I showed up to my birthday party with easily a twenty person entourage comprised mostly of children. and I wasn't the only one, many other students had clingers as well. so there we were, 23 american students, attempting to drink rum, in a muslim village, by headlamp, while kenyan children clung to the bars of the windows, staring at us. AWKWARD to say the least. there might be a special place in hell for those who drink round muslim children, if so, consider my spot reserved.

shirazi.

our rural village stay was in shirazi. from mombasa its a short ferry ride, and 1-2 hours (depending on cattle in the road, traffic, police, etc.) by bus. on the way I joked that if I wasn't living in a thatched hut with coconut trees around I'd be disappointed. as we drove farther away from "civilization" the aluminum roofs became fewer and the thatch more prevalent. we rolled into shirazi and it was thatch and palm as far as the eye could see.

the village chills right on the edge of a mangrove forest on the indian ocean. monkeys hop around the trees and kids climb palm trees for coconuts. there was no running water and no electricity. most of the houses were made of mud and wood, and the roofs were all palm fronds. incidentally, I learned how to make roof from palm fronds so should I find myself in a "survivor/castaway" type situation I'll starve to death but at least I won't get rained on.

we lived with host families and mine was a trip. they were really young, I didn't ask how young for fear I'd be older than them both. the patriarch's name was rengwa, his wife was subira and their three month old daughter's name was mwanajuma. nice enough people but it was a weird situation. I'm fairly convinced the mother was suffering some sort of post-partem depression, she was clearly not super stoked on her life. her baby cried all the time. rengwa was sort of your typical african male (yeah, I'm generalizing, but unfortunately the stereotypes hold true here in most cases, I've found, especially in rural areas.) he told me he was a business man but I never saw him work. he did none of housework. he was there when I left for class and there when I returned, but never seemed to do much of anything. he wanted to know where I was all the time, and wanted me home as soon as class was over - needless to say I found the bossy, overbearing, controlling attitude obnoxious, offensive and tiresome.

this is not to say the entire experience wasn't fantastic. I learned a lot. my swahili improved greatly, helped along by the fact that subira spoke next to no english. she taught me how to carry water on my head (they never gave me a full bucket, cause I was so bad at it) and how to make chapati, which I wasn't very good at either. the extended family lived in huts near eachother and everyone would crowd around to watch me fail at every domestic task. they thought it was hilarious. I believe we all arrived at the same unspoken conclusion: I would make a terrible african housewife.

we went swimming in the indian ocean nearly every day after class. its as warm as bath water. we traveled to place called paradise lost, a giant sandbar exposed at low tide, I'll post pictures when we get back to nairobi, you won't believe it. and I saw BUBBLER CRABS, like the ones in planet earth. I freaked out and took a million pictures, the other students thought I was nuts.

we had three hours of swahili in the morning in the madrasa next to the local mosque. they were all muslims which was an interesting experience as they were fasting for ramadhan when we arrived. we celebrated eid in the village which was a day of celebrations, lots of singing and eating.

I've never eaten so much coconut in my entire life. the moment I arrived I had a fresh coconut to drink/eat in hand. and that didn't stop the entire week, pretty amazing. the whole place often reminded me of the corona ads, if only we'd had beach chairs.

fishing is a major was of life in the village and they fish from canoes made of gutted trees. I ate so much fried fish I thought I would bust. in fact I ate so much fried food I'm rather amazed my clothes still fit (although I've literally only worn a tie-dye mumu since arriving in mombasa so who knows; ah the mumu, nothing more flattering than a dress shaped like a sack of potatoes, I look good.) everything there is fried. fried twice and while you're making it you make sure to knead in more oil. not sure what that was about, my guess is they need all the calories they can get.

the world food program is in shirazi. the primary school children don't return home for lunch, they are fed maize porridge at school. we ate well in shirazi but its unclear whether or not they always eat that well. we brought a lot of food with us and I know every family received a daily stipend for hosting us.

it was a long ten days. I can rough it pretty well, like all alaskan kids, but village life is something entirely different. all us girl got dressed by the village women every morning, and wearing eight layers of cotton or polyester when its 95 degrees out and humid is not my idea of a good time. I took at least two bucket showers a day, and three if I could, and was still sweaty constantly. if I'd had it my way I'd have worn my swimsuit constantly, but as they're muslims that would have been indecent. I was only allowed to wear shorts for my jog in the morning, at 5 am, before the sun and people were up.

it was nice to come back to mombasa, for showers, internet and the comfort of the mumu. mombasa compared to nairobi has many perks: less pollution, less dangerous, and SWIMMING. plus we're living in a hostel which means no host family, which means more freedom. we'll be here for another week, then its back to nairobi.

the lion king.

part of our intensive swahili program is a village stay in rural kenya. from nairobi we bused to mombasa, on the coast. the bus was called 'the mash cool' and had a dvd player, very deluxe. someone put on the lion king. it was the most surreal experience watching the lion king while driving through where it easily could have taken place. we spotted zebra from the windows as 'circle of life' played on screen, pretty wonderful.

we stopped outside of tsavo for lunch. I made a few jokes about man-eating lions, which were completely lost on my fellow students. I think they are a little too young to realize val kilmer used to make good movies like 'ghost in the darkness.'

storm over paradise.

television in kenya is its own experience. as I type this I'm watching "storm over paradise" with my host mama. it is a fantastically dramatic mexican soap opera dubbed in english. the words are over enunciated and delivered flatly. from what I can tell the main character is a mermaid, framed for some crime, locked in jail, in love with a man who is currently in the hospital for a stab wound, whose family owns a failing farm, whose soon-to-be ex-wife wants to kill her child. just another day in paradise. I'm hooked already.

tusker project fame 3 is super as well. its the east african version of american idol sponsored by tusker beer. the contestants come from kenya, tanzania, uganda and rwanda. I'm not yet convinced any of them can sing.

luckily the worst of american tv is currently showing here. I have my choice of the tyra show, hell's kitchen, the bachelor, oprah, america's next top model or survivor - and its all fuzzy. super awesome.

nairobi national park.

last sunday my host sister took me to nairobi national park. kenyans can enter the park for a little over $4 USD, whereas foreigners pay significantly more. I paid $40 USD for a day pass - a considerable sum given how much kenyans pay (but why shouldn't they have access to their own parks), although I certainly don't mind helping preserve national parks. unfortunately even though $4 USD seems like a small sum, the equivalent 300 kenyan shillings is very expensive for many kenyans. thus while the national park is seemingly affordable it is inaccessible for many kenyans. not to mention you need your own car to drive about the park.

but...

gggaaaahhhhhh! nairobi national park is maybe one of the best places ever. zebras, giraffes, wildebeests, ostrich, oh man, it was my own little david attenborough special. I tried to explain to my host sister how much I love nature documentaries... she didn't really get it. I wasn't sure how to explain that I've seen caves from planet earth around twenty-five times without sounding like a weirdo. I definitely freaked out after the first zebra. and then there were five zebra, and I freaked out five times as much. we drove around dinky dirt roads and over every dip in the road was some awesome animal I'd only ever seen on NATURE. we turned a corner and there were five giraffe standing in the grass surrounded by zebra. the zebra like to chill in the road, and only move when you get SUPER close. after awhile the novelty of zebra wore off and I wanted to see something else - then I had to remind myself that they were ZEBRA, REAL LIVE ZEBRA and that is SO AWESOME! there were water buffalo, birds of all sorts, and many animals in the deer family I can't name. we missed out on seeing lions, hippos, and rhinos - fortunately for them/unfortunately for me the park is huge so seeing everything in one trip is too much to hope for. the baboons are crazy! at all the picnic spots there are signs posted "please don't feed the baboons" and for good reason. they have NO fear. they sprint up and grab food, shriek and run off and chow down.

the animal orphanage is on the edge of the park - there they have lions, cheetahs, leopards, and loads of monkeys. all the animals were either abandoned, rescued from illegal pet operations or injured. they have monkeys in cages and wild monkeys climbing on the outside of the cages. bizarre.

gas.

some friends and I decided to experience the nairobi night life last night. on our way the westlands area of nairobi our taxi started sputtering to a stop. a little alarming given how safe our neighborhood is at night. the taxi driver informed us his cab was nearly out of gas. RIDICULOUS! after starting, moving 100 yrds. and stopping again a number of times we finally stopped completely. the taxi driver recommended we wait in the cab while he went for gas. LIKE HELL. so my friends and I got out and pushed the TAXI to the nearest gas station... which was closed. so we pushed it to the next one. imagine the spectacle. five white kids pushing a cab into a gas station at night all dress up to go out. the station attendant looked like he couldn't believe his eyes and the spectators were much amused. after filling up (and asking the driver repeatedly if he was sure he got enough gas) we made it to black diamond in westlands. the guy didn't even give us any $ off the fare. out of control. I was laughing so hard the whole time, everyone else seemed less amused. but c'mon, its a great story. its one of those, "hey, remember the time..." tales.

nimepotea.

nimepotea. nimepotea means "I am lost" in swahili. I sort of meant it as a joke although I suppose it could my symbolic in many ways. ugh. just take it as a joke. I'll do soul searching later.

kibera.

I moved in with a host family a few days ago. they are lovely. they are also muslim and fasting for ramadan. one might think this would mean I would not be eating much .... au contraire my friends. my host mother has taken is upon herself to feed me all the corn in kenya. ALL OF IT. yesterday she may have fed me the equivalent of all the corn in nebraska.

kibera, the neighborhood I live in, houses one of the largest slums in africa. we visited a clinic in the heart of the slum. did you see slumdog millionaire? its like that only there's no epic music by m.i.a., you can smell everything and feel everything. the sewage runs down the street, the children have no shoes, the houses a quite literally shanties made of aluminum siding. I don't know how I feel about the whole experience - it was all too overwhelming. we were followed by a chorus of "how are you?" as sung by little children, who, I'm also fairly convinced, were playing a tag-the-white-person game. I felt almost as if I were at the zoo, which sounds terrible, but its genuinely how I felt. these people and their lives were essentially on display for my education. I felt like an intruder.

my host family, although they live in kibera, is very well-to-d0. my host family is retired from the banking business and my host mother runs two salons. the oldest daughter has graduated from college and works for an american NGO in sudan. the second daughter, mary, is wonderful. she goes to college in nairobi and is an excellent guide. she took me all around the nairobi national park (more on this later, needless to say: RAD!) and is happy to answer my questions. the youngest boy is away at boarding school elsewhere in nairobi, and I've spent only a little time with him.

but now its getting dark and they'll freak out if I'm not home before dark. kibera hasn't been the same since the post election violence in 2007, they tell me. and is definitely dangerous if you're out after dark. probably especially if you glow in the dark. like me.

gender violence.

we had a presentation from the Gender Violence Recovery Center at the Nairobi Women’s Hospital. they are the only center in east africa that focuses specifically on gender violence, domestic violence and sexual violence. additionally all the services they provide free of charge. free-of-charge seems to be a fairly uncommon phenomenon in Kenya, so what they do is especially important. since opening in 2001 they've treated more than 14,000 victims. they offer psycho-social services on-site, conduct follow-ups and provide referrals for those patients who need them. pretty important work.

safety first.

during our orientation week we’ve received many recommendations on how to stay safe. our program manual is rather hilarious in this regard. we are to be on the lookout for bank robberies and riots and have been ordered to run away should either take place. kenyan “rappers” apparently like to have american girlfriends. men with dreadlocks are generally associated with “criminals, drug abusers, male prostitutes, and other ne’er-do-wells. many men grow dreadlocks with the specific intention of making it easier to pick-up white women.” like moths to a flame – white girls to dudes with dreads. according to my handy manual dressing inappropriately, asking a man to dance, sustaining eye contact or smiling at a man are “tantamount to a promise of sex.” too bad, I was stoked to wear hot pants and stare openly at every man I met.

water.

the current drought in kenya has far reaching implications. the maasai have brought their cattle into nairobi looking for grass. the cows look half starved and all their ribs protrude significantly. water and electricity are being rationed. this means on monday, wednesday, and friday we have no power during the day. on thursday, friday and saturday there is no water. I’m honing my military shower skills and preparing to bathe like the kings of old i.e. douse myself in perfume and deodorant. I’m sure I’ll smell awesome.

"good times."

orientation is being held on the outskirts (I think) of nairobi. we’re at a facility (the mary ward center) run by nuns, who are very nice, quiet and excellent cooks. there is religious iconography everywhere and the “good times” bible was sitting on the desk in my room. I’m not sure who named the “good times” bible but I question whether or not they’ve actually read the bible. as I recall, not such good times.

christianity is definitely one of the most obvious relics of colonialism. and while the “good times” bible and the cruxified jesus’ catch me a little off guard, I do love the tea. having tea twice a day is lovely. if I weren’t constantly wearing my orange chaco sandals and my stomach weren’t making strange alarming gurgling noises I might almost feel classy. almost.

twelve hours.

getting to nairobi was a journey. boston to london, twelve hours in london, london to nairobi. from boston to london I sat next to a chill guy from australia. he’d just completed a regatta in nova scotia and accused me of giving him poisoned gum. he was on his way to visit family in the UK and sportingly explored london with me for a few hours. thanks sean.

I met up with josué in the afternoon. he took me to a pub for beer, fish and chips. classic london, I’m told. thanks josué.

twelve hours in london and I figured out the tube, saw buckingham palace, big ben, london bridge, parliament, westminster abbey and loads more old stuff, drank loads of coffee, ate brit food and walked til I thought my legs would fall off. not too bad.

airport mosquitoes.

a mosquito landed on me in the nairobi airport. that mosquito elicited a what-the-hell-am-I-doing-in-africa response in my brain. alaskan mosquitoes are annoying as hell but they don’t make you sick. then I realized neither do the mosquitoes in nairobi. I still beat that sucker to a pulp. and irrationally feared I’d already contracted malaria.