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.