Meditations on the Summer of my dreams.

(This is long. I figured I'd put the link to my pictures in the beginning. You know. Just in case. I uploaded 500 of almost 800 pictures. The editing was minor, you'll get the gist.)

picasaweb.google.com/jill.mccool

Okay. Here we go. The reflection blog.

I've only been back about two and a half weeks. No time at all, really, yet somehow my season on the Dark Continent seems ages ago. A dream remembered, a story read, another person's life visited. I try to drift back to it often, arguably too much, and try to rustle up the feelings. The ones that I tried so vehemently to burn in to me; knowing all too well how quickly time fades the acuteness of memories. And when I do get to that place, where I can taste the air and feel the rhythm of the days, it is like finding my center.

My time in Nairobi (and pre-grumpy airport post) was a perfect cap to the trip. It was a tearful goodbye to Mama Joyce, the program manager, and both Martin and I were pretty quiet while he drove me to Bungoma to catch the bus. I was desperately gulping everything in and sat on the bus silently mourning my departure. I'm fairly sure the bus took an unfamiliar route and it was absolutely beautiful along the Eldama Ravine. For the first time ever the 8 hours seemed to go by too quickly. After finding a taxi to the hostel I had some beers with a New Zealander who had just spent 6 months working for the UN in The Sudan and a economist from Montreal who luckily enough was on the same flight to London with me the following night. The following day the kiwi and I went to the David Seldrick Wildlife Trust: an orphanage for baby elephants whose mothers have been lost either to poachers or other more natural circumstances, lunch at Carnivore again, and back to the hostel where I was introduced to a German radical who is cycling South through the continent and had amazing stories about his time in the currently unstable Ethiopia and Somolia.
The last hours of my time in Africa were spent surrounded by a half dozen people with such amazingly complex and different stories about where they came from and what brought them there. Most of them I barely had a first name, let alone a last or any way to ever hear from them again. But it was more of the exchange that meant something to all of us: the chance to share and reflect and bond- however briefly- over a place that was so deeply personal yet connective. (Oh, and it was also spent getting pissed drunk. But that's a bit less introspective sounding)

"So... how was it!?" Not the easiest question to address, both for the vastness of it and my inability still to fully digest what this experience has meant for me, my life, and my future. But I will try.

Well firstly, obviously, it was freaking amazing.
I mean, come on, I was in Kenya. In Africa. AFRICA!!

It was a lesson in patience. Not only adjusting to the slower pace and the lack of any grasp of "time", but also accepting that change is a slow process. If someone came into my life and told me steps I had to take to improve my life, the life of my family, of my country, I would probably be cautious to listen to outsiders who didn't really understand what is was like to live through my day. I would probably run into obstacles of what change I know I need vs. the culture and "the way it's always been". The problems facing developing nations are so deeply routed in past colonialism, governmental corruption: things that I can't even begin to touch. Working at a local level is frustrating and often times seems futile. But that is where I began to develop patience. Ignorance is not bliss. Ignorance is destructive. I may not see how I've helped, who I've changed, what I've inspired, but it's there. Those people are going to raise their sons to not be abusive, and raise their daughters with a sense of pride about their gender. They are going to speak up to their partner and insist on using a condom or being tested and possibly reduce one more infection. They will seek medical attention and sleep under mosquito nets. They will keep a record of their finances and be able to save money for their families. Those small changes add up. "Haba na haba, hujaza kibaba": little by little fills the measure.
Or maybe they won't. Maybe they passed my test but will practice none of what they learned. But that is life. That is accepting my limitations. That is understanding the nature of people to do what they've always done regardless of consequences.

It was a lesson in humility. It was seeing people with less than the basic human needs. Not necessarily food. Not necessarily shelter. Not necessarily clothes. But more than that, it was seeing those same people give me eggs from their only chicken in thanks for medical attention. My class who got up even earlier than usual to pick me corn from their fields because they knew how much I liked it. People who prayed daily in thanks for all of the blessings they have been given. A positive, warm, inviting, friendly disposition could be found in every corner of that country. It was often discussed how sometimes we as white people felt like Kenyans just saw us as dollar signs and assumed we should be giving those dollar signs to them. It was frustrating but really, I mean, in our perspective, we have student loans and credit card bills and rent and gas and insurance back home and all that money runs out fast. But you can't really blame them for seeing what we have and not understanding how we can want for anything. Can you imagine explaining that your shoes cost more than they make in 2 years? It's not as if I've come back here and don't want to use a stove because "not everyone has stoves" or give all my money to charity because "they need it more". I understand that I was born into a country and a lifestyle that allows me those things. But I am grateful for it. For every bit of it.

Kenya showed me an independence I never knew. Not really the independence itself, but the confidence to take full advantage of it. I just traveled around a country 180 degrees from what I've known my whole life. I've haggled for bus tickets and found myself lost in public markets. I've crossed borders and been questioned by men with really big guns. I've talked to people I shared seemingly no commonalities with (which we all know is never the case, but it can really feel like it). I've white water rafted down the Nile and hitchhiked to a rainforest. I forgot what is was like to doubt myself.

And the stories! One day I'm going to get to tell my children about when an African spider laid eggs in my foot, and how I learned to slaughter my own chicken. How baboons stole the toothpaste, and how live termites tasted. I have a whole stock of once-in-a-lifetime stories.

It inspired me to learn more. It showed me holes in my knowledge and new interests to pursue. It forced me to be fearless. It asked me to take chances and rewarded me handsomely. It put me in a position to evaluate what I thought and believed and really challenged me to be objective and critical and honest in my answers. I didn't like everything I found out about myself. I accepted flaws that I had previously talked myself out of believing I had. I have a firmer grasp on when I'm wrong. I definitely got knocked down a peg in the best possible way. I saw things in my life more clearly, for better or for worse.

I simultaneously found myself selfless and selfish.

Life back here is not necessarily hard adjusting to, it's not like you forget how to drive a car or microwave popcorn. I think one of the hardest parts is translating how I felt about myself while I was there. I don't think I've ever been more completely me. I was unapologetic for how I felt. I didn't care, at all, what people thought of me. I never felt judged and I'm sure that wasn't because it never happened: it was just because I was so sure of myself that what other people may have thought didn't cross my mind. It was the kind of confidence you only hear about from motivational speakers. I said what I was thinking and acted on urges. I didn't feel the need to ever apologize if I didn't feel like talking to a single soul one day.. If I felt like something or someone was not good for me there was no pussyfooting around it. It was as if I knew how valuable of an experience it was and I had no time or patience for anything that was going to ruin it for me. I think my life here would really benefit from learning a little something something from African Jill. And I am. But I must be patient.

I cannot begin to express my gratitude to the people who supported me through all of this. Who dealt with my pre-travel jitters, encouraged me. Who wrote to me, thought of me. Who listen to stories that I'm sure ramble sometimes. Who welcomed me back with open arms. Who respected my decisions. Who shared this incredible experience with me. I took so many people with me. I could not have been luckier.

A final wrap up line is really not possible (trust me, I've been trying for like 15 minutes). I'll probably be discovering fall out from this for months, maybe years to come. It isn't a stagnant experience. It will not just stay in the recesses of my mind. It will grow with me and help influence (along with so many other life experiences) how and where I go from here. And where I go from here, although unknown, is going to be amazing. Because life always is.

Heathrow

Things that occupy my time on long layovers:
-Eating (in 5 hrs I've had breakfast, lunch, and a whole sleeve of hob nobs)
-Sleeping (since my seat wouldn't recline on the flight here thus making sleep impossibly hard)
-Deciding how to properly raise my future children so they don't end up like the obnoxious brats here

Kwaheri, Kenya

Wait, really? I have to leave? Ugh.
I'm not ready to go, in the literal sense of I haven't packed (which, if you know me, isn't much of a surprise) but also in the greater sense of it all. I've been trying to soak as much of it in this past week as possible and found it a bit overwhelming at times to realize how attached I am after such a short time. I keep catching myself just staring, at nothing in particular, but at everything. I'm not sure what factors make it this way, but the African sky never ceases to look like it's painted from a storybook. Whether fluffy white clouds or an ominous angry sky... it's always breathtaking. And in my opinon it's been showing off this past week just for me to remember it in all it's glory.

The rains caught everyone a bit off guard all week. Downpours that lasted for hours at a time washed away roads or at least turned them into unmanagable rivers. It even hailed every couple days making programs most difficult when the building I was in, like most places here, had a metal roof that made hearing anything impossible till the rains let up. Most interestingly is that the hours before and after are still hot, beautiful, and give no indication what else happens.

My last Empower class was small, only 6, but allowed for a more intimate class and in the end all passed and it was a great way to end my teaching.

I was grumpy to be getting home past 8:00 on my birthday but found that my friend Annie had helped cook and created a feast! Mashed potatoes, spaghetti; complete with guacamole, garlic bread, and fruit salad! And a box of hob nobs which I contemplated saving but knew better. All of the volunteers (and we filled up fast! English, Swedish, Norwegian, Italian... only one other American) went rafting this weekend so the farm is eerily quiet, with only me and Carmen here.. a Canadian not affiliated with ICODEI but staying here for a year working on a water purification project. Friday night we set up making cinnamon rolls from scratch which amazingly turned out good even by Western standards... surprising considering the lack of electricity (i.e stoves, ovens, etc.). Mama Betty helped us make a traditional oven. The family thought they were amazing and Carmen and I went to bed so ill from the sheer amount we ate.

I had to come into town today because I needed a little extra packing space and so bought a small duffle bag just to house the last of everything. I'm hoping to get a little more shopping done in Nairobi... but taxis are so bloody expensive there it's very possible I'll just hang around the hostel for the day before setting off for the airport!! There are a million things I wish I would have bought but "souviners" aren't exactly big here.... so the few times I was somewhere that had a market catering to that it is a bit overwhelming and left me arriving back home saying "why didn't I buy more!" So I'm going to try to get out in the city. I leave the farm tomorrow morning and my flight in Tuesday almost at midnight.

It's hard for me to process everything right now, so next time I'll write will probably be comfortably from home once I've had a chance to sort out what this whole trip has meant for me. It's a strange and surreal feeling.

Coming to an end

Returning to life on the farm took a bit of readjusting to and I was pretty cranky. I had hit that wall where everything African annoyed me: the roads, the showers, the bathrooms, the transportation, the food. It only took a day or so for me to shake it off and fall back into the routine of it all, but for that day I was pretty sure I wasn't going to last another 2 weeks. Once again now though I'm mourning having to leave. I'm on a plane in 10 days. Unreal.

I suppose the novelty wearing off and the reality of it all setting in: life here is hard. And not even really for me, I have it luxurious compared to the stories I've heard over the past 2 months. This is not an easy place to live, to raise a family, to survive. Some of the things I've seen.. heard... it's all sometimes too much to process. Some of it downright makes me sick. But I've also seen incredible hope and faith, the kindness of strangers, the unwavering belief that Kenya is a blessed country who will rise above the politcal mess, the disease, the poverty, the violence and who will eventually see a better future for their children.

The farm itself is different. I'm once again sharing my hut, now with a Swede and an English gal. The numbers are dwindling but it's a cozy bunch. Schools are on hoilday so all 8 of Reuben's kids are hanging around and it's great to see them all. I only had 2 programs last week but got to accompany the women's health clinic which is a newly up and running program but it's so needed and the girls running it are amazing advocates for change. I'm spending my last week doing and Empower class and I'm looking forward to that. The weather has been bipolar. Yesterday was almost unbearable to be in the sun it was so hot, but the late afternoon brough rain and cold disgusting humidity. It's gorgeous right now but I'm sure that won't last.

Oh... my toe. A few weeks ago I had a throbbing pain in my baby toe which I attributed to stubbing it or just to the general disarray feet seem to fall in while here. While in Watamu I noticed it was swelling and a bit discolored. Being a natural picker and prodder, I played with it until 50 or so miniature pieces of rice shot out and left a big open pocket where they had been festering. I composed myself a bit and calmly sterilized the colony and since then it's actually healed quite nicely. Spiders? Flies? Who knows, but I'm glad I didn't find out the REALLY hard way.

I'm foreseeing an eventless day at home, so I'm going to go try to enjoy that.

It's okay, I'd be jealous of me too.

I. Nairobi & Safari
Thusday morning started off with that glorious bus ride to Nairobi where I managed to control my stomach thankfully. After dropping our things at the hostel we splurged for dinner at Carnivore. I suppose it's a bit of a tourist thing as the environment had a bit of an Epcot feel to it, but worth it. The center of the table housed a carosel of sauces and sides and a flag that was not to be put down until your stomach exploded. Men came around with hunks of ever type of roasted meat I could imagine: from multiple varieties of pork, beef, crocodile, ostrich! We all happily gorged ourselves. Bedtime was early as our guides picked us up early the next morning to begin our safari. The ride south of Nairobi was very reminicent of the Africa I always had in my head: dry grasslands dotted with Acacia trees, tall thin Maasai with their bright red wraps herding cattle across open plains. Unfortunately, it was quite cloudy and cold and Mount Kilimanjaro illuded us once we had driven the 5 hours but we did see everything from herds of elephants, wildebeasts, hippos, ostrich (which only served to remind me how yummy dinner was the night before!), and heaps of zebras. We were a bit caught off guard come nightfall though, because the sleeping arrangements on safaris that had been reported thus far included self contained tents, electricity, running water, beds, toilets, etc. So it was a bit of a shock to see our guides start rolling out the old school canvas tents. "What? Nobody brought blankets or pillows? Oops, maybe we should have told you." After griping about it for a bit and ultimately "renting" some blankets from the maasai village in the park it set in just how beautiful it was to be sleeping under the open sky in Amboseli under Kilimanjaro. So we shut up a bit. Enjoyed the company of some monkeys and had a surprisingly good night sleep. The next morning if we squinted hard enough we could make out the mountain's peak as we drove to the gate of Tsavo West. The landscape changed so dramatically into hills and mountains with dry brush and large fields of lava rock. Sleeping arrangements were the same and it was definitely a more "wild" feeling park which was appreciated. We saw the same animals as Amboseli adding in lots of giraffe and even some crocodiles at Mzima Springs. The morning brought a campful of curious baboons who hijacked the toothpaste and played a bit of a game of tag it seemed. More driving through amazing scenery which landed us eventually at the town of Mtito where we enjoyed a late lunch and departed from our tour guides as we departed for the next leg of our holiday. Round the fire at night it was pressed upon us that we should have gone to Maasai Mara because then we would have seen the cats and a greater volume of the other animals we did see, but my friends and I agreed that it was nice to not have a half dozen other safari buses around us as we meandered through.

II. Mombasa & Watamu
The long bus ride brought us to the Coastal town of Mombasa after dark. The guesthouse we stayed at was slightly dodgey at first apperances but was just fine for what we needed. A pizza shop downstairs provided dinner and we played cards till late. As the coast is predominately Muslim, the loudspeakered call to prayer woke us up at 5am. In the morning we toured the Portuguese Fort Jesus and I got my first views of the Indian Ocean. We wandered around the alleys of the Old Town until lunch. The later part of the day was spent browsing the souveneir shops which I told myself I'd go back to later in the week on my way back through (which I never did) and eventually caught a bus to Watamu. Mombasa was okay, nothing special really, a big city with an ocean view I suppose. We once again reached our destination in the dark. It was Ingrid's (my hutmate) last day so we splurged a little on accomidations. A nice little complex with a more resort like feel than the guesthouses I've become accustomed too. But still only 5000 shillings for a double... about $75. Watamu is a Kenyan town full of Italians so we enjoyed a nice pasta dinner. In the morning we had a wonderful included breakfast and spent the better part of the day exploring the Gede Ruins. I possibly could have spent the whole day amongst the remains of a city rising up in the forest but Ingrid had to catch the bus back to Mombasa so she could fly to Nairobi and then home. So we lounged by the pool, napped by the pool, enjoyed some pizza and the remaining three of us walked up the beach making sandcastles in the white sand until well after the sun went down. Then we condensed into one kingsized bed and slept quite peacefully. Another great breakfast and Jeff and I set off to the next leg while Brett made his way back home. (Here's where it gets goood)

III. Lamu
A 4 hour bus ride next to a smelly drunk guy brought us North up the Coast to Lamu. Well, to a boat that would take us to the Island. We packed in like refugees and I was amazed when I looked over my shoulder to where we were going. It was like going back in time. Dhow fishing boats littered the harbor and the old buildings rose up seemingly from the water. Cars aren't on the island (only donkeys). The town is a maze of alleys with intricately carved Swahili doors opening windows to everything from family life to mosques to shops and woodworkers. Cats wander the streets and look quite amusing amist all the donkeys! Our villa was an old Swahili house with terraces filled with antique daybeds that encouraged lounging and catching the sea breeze. We immediately cursed ever having to leave and set into action plans to stay longer. Breakfast the following morning was delicious and we quickly made our way to book a flight to give us an extra day without busses. We decided to spend our day on a dhow. We hooked up with Captain Lehman and his boat the Themani. The day was beautiful and the ride was peaceful over to Manda Island where we fished for lunch and they made us a feast while we walked the beaches. Later on we sailed to the other side of Lamu Island to Shella beach which was just as beautiful but a bit of a resort town... so we axed plans to stay there and sailed back to Lamu Town where a cold shower felt great and dinner was complimented by wonderful locals joining us (including Lehman) and having wonderful conversation into the night. The next day we wandered the town and the markets before meeting Lehman who lent us his donkeys (mine was Watermelon) so we could ride them back to Shella (just as fun as it sounded to me) where we did a lot of nothing on the beach all day and after walking back to town wandered the alleys into the night. We caught the sunset and arrived back at the villa intime to catch the torch being lit with an Arab man and his Kenyan wife. I passed out cold upon hitting the bed! Our final morning was spend shopping!! Fabric stores and woodsmiths were eveywhere and we were swept away by the craftmanship of it all. Before we knew it we had to pack up and leave our paradise, sail to the airstrip, and take a small 12 person plane back to Nairobi. I had to bid ado to Jeff who made his way home while I watched the Olympics at the Hostel with lots of new friends and ate a tasty cheeseburger!! It was a wonderfully relaxing and amazing week getting to see a side of kenya I didn't know existed till now.

Just as a side note, to be discussed later, but it's getting dark and I have to get back to the farm.. something laid it's eggs in my foot. And my cat had her itty bitty kittes. More to come (haha)

See you all in 2 weeks!!!!!!!!!!!

"Sukumu Weki" is said to be kale but I'm pretty sure it's grass

It was a sad day at ICODEI. The dog fell ill and after a week of not eating and increasingly losing his balance he went through a weekend of seizures until the vet could come on Monday and although he proclaimed he would be fine and all he needed was a muscle relaxer and some hydration and it was only parasites that had closed his windpipe and intestines, Louie died a few hours later. So we had a nice little burial and started training a few of the other strays to play with us and not beg for food.
The van broke down on the way to Kitale today (surprise surprise) but it turned out to be the best thing that could have happened! A woman invited us off the road into her village where we were shown a mock-circumcision rite. The boys danced and sung and the one woman who had some English ability narrated what was happening. She said this Sunday night will be the real thing and they will sacrifice animals (and I'm pretty sure she said "wear the intestines around the neck"), dance all night, and in the morning cover themselves in mud, enter the river, then emerge to have the ceremony that we were witnessing finished with the actual circumcision (Did I mention these boys were like 13? And the line that was repeated many times was that they were not to cry out for it would bring shame to the family. Ouch.) She said the increasingly Christian population goes to the hospital and has a ritual-less circumcision but that many clans still choose do it the traditional way. She invited us back on Sunday but I'll be away.. but it was great that I got my own private screening.
Eventually a car met us with the required part but we were still 2 hours away and it was late (and I think they were skeptical that the van could make it there and back) so we were dropped back in town. It's fine, though, because I'm leaving tomorrow so I'll be able to pack and get everything in order.
Yesterday's class was so frustrating. It was at a school and I recommended that levels 6-8 be present so the headmaster packed us into a small room then I had to fumble with the generator for a good half hour before I had anything resembling power. He kept interrupting me asking questions that I knew I had to cover. "You said mothers can transmit to their babies. Perhaps you could explain how?" Really, dude, cause I'm pretty sure that I've done this more than once now and I'm actually kind of good at it. I was in the middle of saying how the virus can't survive in saliva which leads me into my section on myths of how the virus spreads (i.e deep kissing, mosquitoes) and he jumps in explaining if two people have open wounds blah blah blah. Yes.. I was in fact getting to that. Just stupid things like that for a good hour. The icing on the cake was at the end a girl had a follow up question on condoms and other prophylaxis and not a dozen words into an answer he cuts in saying how she shouldn't be considering having sex anyway and that's reserved for marriage and reproduction and if she's already done it it's a mistake. My translator and I just stood wide-eyed. I was not there to teach abstinence only education, although of course I cover that as an option. But here I was talking about how open and honest communication is crucial in slowing the spread and this guy is cutting me off telling me I wasn't to talk about anything else. I was so frustrated. So I sort of pouted my way through the rest of the day, regretting not having something more profound to have said to him or to the girl (or, anything not the least bit profound would have been better than my silence). On top of that my GI tract was throwing a temporary hissy fit which I thought I had under control until we were thoughtfully offered lunch of the two Kenyan foods I have trouble stomaching in large quantities and it was all over from there.
I'm pretty excited for this next week. For the break in general in addition to what I'm actually doing. When I get back I'll only have like 3 weeks left. Whoa.

Did you know I'm worth 4 cows?

The rest of the weekend in Kisumu went well. Boat ride in the morning around Lake Victoria.. saw some hippos!! I am discovering that the zoom on my camera is a a little sub-par so those pictures, much like my rainforest monkey ones, require a bit of an imagination. We ate some fresh tilapia on the shore, shopped some more, and hoped a ride home. Like most long distance travels, our matatu broke down (battery trouble) and then we got tranferred to another vehicle, then about 4km from the farm we passed another car but were in the way of a bike so we hit that car. At that point we were ready to be home so we caught the first available car and left them to figure out the damages.

The first three nights of the week the generator at the farm wasn't working properly so we ate in the dark and more or less went to bed after that. Although headlamps are great, they attrack every flying thing directly to your face.

I had an Empower session all week in Kitale which is quite a distance but also where Reuben's church and office are (he's the ICODEI founder & it's his farm). So on the plus side we got to drive with him in the Land Rover all week but it also meant we had to go and wait for him to be done every day. They did tend to give us lunch and tea but we got home every night between 7 and 8 so there was no time all week to get to the market, wash clothes, etc. So this weekend I'm just relaxing and spending some time around town.

We had chicken last night and Lilian, who cooks for us, let some of the volunteers kill them. It was pretty crazy... step on the wings and saw/cut off the head. The first one went fine but the next go my buddy Neeraj jumped off the wings as soon as the head was off and, like the saying goes, a bloody headless chicken started jumping and "flying" away so Lilian had to grab him mid air then scolded him for a while. Dinner was good, although a little weird.

Volunteers are leaving left and right but we just got a new girl from Dublin and are expecting one or two more that will be leaving around the time I am. Next Thursday I'm going on Safari with some friends. We decided not to do it at Masai Mara. The village I've heard is pretty tourist oriented and a little disheartening if you really wanted to see Masai. And the wildebeast migration was described to me such: "It's not really all at once like it seems on television. They are just all sort of walking casually in generally the same direction" So we're going to Amboseli then Savo which are a bit more wild and have Kilimanjaro in the distance so that should make for some great views! From there I'm taking a week and going to the Coast, to Mombasa, up to Watamu, and possibly the island of Lamu. Watamu has the Gede ruins and you should Google that goodness cause it seems like it will be incredible. Once back in Nairobi the people I'm with are flying out and I'll take the bus back up here for the last few weeks.

I got an offer from a friend/one of our drivers to be his girlfriend. I told him I don't think I'd make a very good Kenyan wife. I can't carry things on my head, I still pee on myself at least once a week trying to navigate a long-drop, and I definitely couldn't decapitate chickens on a weekly basis. He said that was okay, that his current wife would do all that stuff (as well as take care of the 6 kids). He offered 4 (large) cows as the dowry and I told him my parents didn't have the proper land for them to graze. And also that he'd have to throw in some chickens and at least 2 sheep. He said he'd consider but that would make me pretty pricey. It was a pretty funny conversation.

The kitten that was sleeping with me hasn't been there lately. And now she's pregnant. Whore.

It's been a pretty uneventful week. It's rained almost every afternoon but today seems like the sun will stay out so I'll have to wash my clothes/myself when I get back. I'll miss lots here when I leave, but bucket showers are not one of them.

I thought they served beef last night till I recognized the Swahili word for "goat"

I find my relationship with Kenya mirroring any other relationship. I believe I am still in the honeymoon phase. I am partially blinded by the newness and still find novelty in that which eventually I will tire of. I am continually awestruck and probably still see more of what it wants me to see rather than what really is. I hope, as time goes on, that I become more comfortable looking deeper and possibly losing some of the glimmer but trading it for more substance. I am starting to be closer and more comfortable opening up to and with staff, interpreters, drivers, strangers, headmasters, etc. Many of them sugar coat all that they are feeling but the more I genuinely listen, the more that is revealed. I await with anxious anticipation finding the real Kenya, and what part in it and it's future I play. I am falling in love.

I am currently in Kisumu which, despite what I thought, is very much South of Bungoma. It is the third largest city in the country and with that comes the novelty of seeing other white people (though still only a few). It is almost funny how accustomed the handful of volunteers have become to being the only ones. Also with tourism comes Western food. It was the first time I've had cheese in weeks! We indulged heavily for lunch, haggled our way through the market and came out with many wonderful things, and will head over soon for what will probably be an equally indulgent dinner. Two of the newest volunteers came with and all of a sudden I found myself playing the role that many of those who left played for me, and with a great ease. It never ceases to amaze me how quickly we can adapt. Tomorrow morning we'll take a boat onto Lake Victoria (hopefully seeing hippos along the way!), some freshly caught tilapia, perhaps some more shopping, and back the 3 hours home.

I start my Empower week on Monday and both of the co-teachers have left so it will be exciting to be able to run it by myself. I'm sure by next weekend I'll be ready to have a long sleep but it is hard to pass up opportunities to explore. I'm considering taking my last week or so here to safari and also do either Mt. Kilimanjaro or possibly Zanzibar. So far the last of the volunteers leave the week of the 14th so it may be good timing for me to venture off. But alas, that is very far away and anything could happen.

Oh, and the local tribe's circumcision ceremony is in a few weeks. Every night this week they've done some sort of ritual where they run through the villages screaming and drumming... I'm not sure exactly the point but what I am sure of is I plan on attending. Yeah. You heard me.

Time for more milk based products.
All my love.

We pushed the van/got out and walked more than we drove.

It's quite the bittersweet night. A few of the volunteers are celebrating their last night. So there will be drinking, eating, and heaps of laughing I can be sure. Luckily many of them are going to school in Philadelphia so they won't be far away.

I've been teaching at primary schools all this week... many of whom have never seen a white person so it's always a swarm of hundrds of children. Like little African paparazzi. They have been far from the farm, though, and with the van breaking down more frequently there's been a lot of sitting and waiting. My one yesterday didn't start till 3:30 so I hung around at the mobile clinic all day then ten minutes in to teaching it started pouring and I just had to call it quits. A 9 hour day with nothng accomplished. It has been storming at night the past few days so the temp drops a lot for sleeping. Still perfect days though.

Life on the farm has been full of gin rummy tournaments. I had to start taking my Cipro, which for those of you who have travelled know the misery that lead up to that. One night, I'm in the bathroom stall around 1am, I heard one of the dogs in a fight with something outside and refused to leave until I knew it was over. Probably just another stray dog but you'd be surprised what can go through your head when it's pitch black and you hear growling and fighting and you remember you're in Africa. I also found a black widow spider that night. Not as threatening a feeling as growling in the dark.

I'm going up to Kisumu this weekend to see Lake Victoria then I start another weeklong session on Monday. I'd love to write more but there's quite a line for this computer and my hutmate has a cold Tusker waiting for me at the bar down the street.

It's as common to hear "Obama!!" as it is to hear hello.

The last two mornings I've woken up with a kitten sleeping with me. She must wiggle her way under my mosquito net in the middle of the night. It's a nice little ammenity!

My class "graduated" on Friday and I was so happy to see just how proud they were of themselves. They all wanted pictures with their certificates and we even had a woman in Bungoma make us a cake :) I think next week I just have a few one day awareness sessions scheduled, but I have another week long session after that. Time is flying!

On Saturday a few of us went South to the Kakamega rainforest. We hired a guide who navigated us through and was much keener to spot the monkeys high in the canopy. Not a whole lot of wildlife besides the monkeys but some magnificent trees and just a great experience to be there. We had difficulty catching a matatu back into town because it was getting dark so a guy offered to drive us there. That's what I'm finding all over this country. People are so kind, so willing to help. Four peope got out of a matatu yesterday and caught another one just so my friends and I could stay together. Not once have I ever felt in danger or really discriminated against. People stare, they call out "mzungu", but it's all really innocent. I get approached daily by strangers wanting to just shake my hand, and even if they dont know English to just smile. Even during police checkpoints (at least once a day) they smile with their AK47s and chirp "hello madam how are you!" when they peer in (although I did have my driver get arrested the other day but they were just looking for money from him).

Showering this morning was pretty trecherous. Usually there is a kettle of water over a fire and a few scoops of that into a bucket, then filling the rest of the way with water from the well makes a lukewarm way to get "clean" but weekends don't hold the joy of the hot water. And well water... it's freaking cold. I also did my laundry today which is a three bucket system of wash, rinse, rinse. But although it all smells a million times better I'm unsure of just how clean it really is! Handwashing is a skill apaprently.

I'm developing what can only be described as a mild tan (read: freckles). Pretty wild. I'm looking forward to hanging around the farm for the rest of the day and doing a lot of nothing. Maybe a walk if the weather cools down a bit. Today was the hottest it's been in a while.. somewhere in the high 80s I'd say. Nights are mid 70s although last night was about 66 and that felt chilly. I think on the way back I'll catch a motor boda. A boda boda is a bicylce with a seat above the wheel for passengers, and a motor boda is like a motorcylcle only not as fancy. I took one in Uganda and although initially a little scary, it's a fun ride on nice days.

Ha. I'm in Africa. That's crazy.

Who needs an alarm clock when you have roosters?

I got to talk to my parents last night, albeit briefly, but it was so nice to have a little slice of home. I have a phone here now and although it's a little touch and go it's at least a little life line. Calling the States costs about 50 shillings (almost $1) per minute but I can receive calls for free and international texts are only like 10 US cents for me to send. So if anyone misses me enough to get an international phone card I would love a quick hello (0735005012) but you'd have to look up the country code because I can't remember it of the top of my head. I have lots of numbers on me so I'll send out some texts later on. The generator gives us electricity in the "big hut" from about 7:30/8:00 till midnight so I charge everything then, and to my surprise there's even tv so we keep up with the news and watch music videos that are usually about 5 years old.

I'm getting the hang of what is known as "African time". If someone says they will pick you up at 7am it means anywhere from about 7:30 to 9:30. No one is really in a rush anywhere. If a mtatu takes 3 hours longer than you expected and breaks down or stops so the toller can buy oranges no one really seems to mind. (Mtatus deserve at least a whole entry. They're fascinating. It's really only them in great numbers on the roads but roads don't really have lanes and as mentioned before are half washed away usually. So they just speed along and weave through the countless bicycles, pedestrians, and craters, honking at whatever is in their way. They don't like to move unless they're completely full so whenever someone gets off you have to find someone to get on, hence why it can take hours longer. But I digress) It's just a laid back environment to a ridiculous degree.

The class this week is about an hour away from Kabula (my town) and it's going better than I could have hoped. Day 1 is an introduction to the disease and basic awareness, 2 is the immune system and what happens to it, and today was preventing mother to child transmission as well as condom usage. Sex is quite taboo here, and a lack of communication plays a large roll in the rapid spread, so there were a lot of of very shy giggles, but everyone was very receptive to it and continue to have really good questions and dialogue. I'm sure there will be weeks where the class isn't as open but so far so good. Tomorrow is a session on society and reacting to the disease and day 5 focuses on counseling, testing, and being supportive/supported. Two other girls and I caught a mtatu back to Bungoma (a two hour hot sticky smelly bumpy stop every few meters ride) and indulged in some chicken curry lunch. Meat is a luxury we don't often get. Breakfast is tea and bread with either jam or peanut butter or whatever you want to buy for yourself. Lunch is usually rice and cabbage or kale, and dinner is just an elaborated lunch usually with either lentils or potatoes. Chapati, a flatbread of sorts, is to be looked forward to and rumor has it tonight is the night! A few of the volunteers bought some chickens at market the other night and made a wonderful pineapple chicken concoction. I am constantly eating mangoes... they are completely amazing here.

I reflected on my frustration with the medical conditions and was able to be a bit more level headed the next day. It is difficult, and diagnosis with such little information is a very challenging , and a limited access to medication must be hard but it the people that I'm meeting are so committed to doing everything they can with what they have that it's truly inspiring. I'm trying to soak up as much as I can from them, drowning them in questions. It really is forcing me to think outside of the box, think of anything to do to improve quality of life. There is a group here working on a water purification system, a previous volunteer is here buying land to start a farming project, one med student upon leaving here is going to a clinic on the Thai/Burma border who is in desperate need of doctors. I am surrounded with people who are absolutely committed to change and it is contagious. I find myself ignorant on so much more than I could have imaged and there is no shame in it; it is humbling and it is such a great opportunity if I embrace it to grow beyond my wildest dreams.

I woke up around 2am last night and after a half hour debate on whether I could hold it and fall back asleep, I went to use the toilets. Nighttime is a dark like I've never seen. It's the kind of dark where you can blink for as long as you please and chances are your eyes still won't adjust. So I ran outside and was hit with the most beautiful night sky. It was a perfectly clear night, around 73 degrees, and every star in the sky was turned on. Then one of the farm cats rubbed against me and scared me so badly that I was lucky I had already used the toilets.

Jambo!

I had a whole blog done a few days ago and then the internet wiped out. Let's try this again.
First day or so was hard. Mostly I think because it was travelling, alone, with a pretty bad language barrier, a not so great understanding of the exchange rate, in a country that will rip off any mzungu (white person) they can. But I successfully navigated the hostel, Nairobi, the bus station, and a wicked bad 9 hour bus ride to Bungoma. The roads here are anything but flat. But whiplash aside it was a good way to see the country. Much greener than expected, especially along the Great Rift Valley. The povery level was astonishing, even though I knew to expect it. Most structures are mud or concrete shacks with aluminum/tin roofing. I did, however, pass a herd of zebra and several baboons.
Safely at the farm I met the other volunteers who immediately took me into town to celebrate the last night of a few of them. Now town, however big, is a unlike anywhere I've ever been. Dirt roads, all markets on the sidewalk, and constant approaches by street children. But it was a good introduction to everyone. I slept like a baby that night.
I was whisked away the next day. Mtatus are shuttles/taxis of a sort. They run constantly and pick up anyone by the side of the road and pile you in. For a vehicle that is probably made to hold 10 or so I've been in a few that have had well over 20 people. But it gets your where you need to go and it's cheap. So we took one to the Ugandan border and crossed over, and took another 3 hour one to the town of Jinja. We spent the weekend exploring and white water rafting down the Nile. That's right. And it's just as amazing as it sounds. Granted, I felt like I was facing my death a few times when our raft would flip mid-rapid and the rest just battered down upon you until some helpful fellow in a kayak met you once it calmed and rescued you. We stayed at a great campsite right on the bank and enjoyed a bar-b-que, Ugandan beer, hot showers, and another great sleep. The trip back was not so enjoyable. A bus that broke down, a mtatu who kicked us out because it's passengers had a problem with mzungus, and hitting the border after dark which meant difficult and ultimately more expensive to find a ride home. But all worked out in the end.
Today I observed at the mobile clinic. It seems like such an uphill battle. Someone would come in, pay their 50 shillings (less than $1 US) and it would cover a consultation and any needed medication. But what do you do when someone comes in and says they have xyz symptoms and all you can do is listen to their lungs and take their blood pressure? Narrow it down to malaria, worms, arthritis, infection. But it's so much speculation especially with vague symptoms and no testing available. You prescribe what you can. It was pretty sobering. For the few hours after that till we came back to town I just played soccer with a bunch of the local kids. Kids in general here are absolutely facinated with white people. Most just congregate around and state blankly. They all shake your hand and just stare until you walk away. Just curiosity, nothing malicious. Most know how to say "Hello" and "How are you" and they repeat it over and over. My swahili is getting better quickly, though. I begin my HIV/AIDS classes tomorrow and am pretty excited to see how that goes. Most of the programs go deep into rural Western Kenya and it's absolutely amazing to explore.
So... all in all, I'm getting used to things. Showering from a bucket. Peeing into a hole in the ground (and we're not talking latrines.. I'm talking a hole in the ground... literally). Haggling for the price of everything. And taking chancse I never would have. I can't believe a week has passed already. I think I am going to continue to get comfortable and it's going to make everything that much better.
Everyone is in my thoughts and though I am having a great time, I miss everyone greatly.

First.

I feel like for years I have been saying I'm going to Africa. Never with any tangible plans, only a desire. Sick of all talk and no action in a growing number of aspects of my life, I forged ahead and here I am. Roughly 2 weeks from takeoff.

To catch some up to speed, I leave on July 1. I will be volunteering for 2 months in Bungoma, a rural village in Western Kenya, teaching HIV/AIDS prevention education. The Community Development organization with whom I'll be working provides room and board courtesy of a sugarcane farm and very kind villagers (that's my hut pictured above). But all that's just the technicalities.

I have prepared myself as best I can, knowing that no amount will truly prepare me. I am ready to make the world a little better. I am ready for the world to make me a little better. I've slowed trying to have answers; rather, I am embracing all that comes with finding questions to ask. I have (somehow, strangely, unexpectedly, but gratefully) shed most self-doubt. I am opening my heart and my eyes and my mind. I have that feeling very similar to pondering existence- when you realize it's probably just too big so you might as well just go through it and soak it all up like a sponge. Don't always try to explain, just learn and grow and your own personal understanding of it all will come in time. I am ready to jump in head first and that's all I can ask of myself.

While things like electricity, running water, and mosquitoes that won't give me malaria will be hard to come by, the nearest town does have internet access or so I'm told. Welcome to my adventures...