Most of you know the {full/true/real} story, which is cool; you're family. There's certain privileges with that. Briefly, though, for the rest of you, here's my story, and I'm sticking to it. I suggest you do the same and don't ask annoying questions {about details/validity/witnesses}.
Essentially, I felt the need to apply all of my leadership and activist training I received at University. Having a group of active, strong women at my fingertips, I felt the time was ripe. So, we rallied together to have a big protest. It was amazing, beautiful, powerful, {topless} and loud. I don't remember what we protested, but I do remember feeling SO proud of my mamas. I mean, we had the whole district involved! Thousands!
Turns out, though, the Kenyan government wasn't so proud and enthusiastic. Might've been the content. {Or the partial nudity.} Whatever. I was kindly asked to leave the country and not return.
Broke my heart. I cried my eyes out, an activity not supported by the native women. I got two men to nearly cry with me, but the women seemed offended just by watching me. I had an entire year of service left and a lot of things to accomplish. I was asked to leave right in the middle of dinner, knowing what was for dessert and knowing I wouldn't be able to have any. Majorly shitty.
Here I am, again. I leave the nest time and time again, but just can't seem to stay the hell out. Gonna try again. In the next 4-6 weeks I plan to relocate to the East Coast. In the region of AJ and my dearest Jeffners. Work, school, and life to follow...
{Edits} inserted by author 23/8/07. Seems my deodorizer was so strong people couldn't smell the bullshit. Pole sana, wote. Better noses next time.
