5.23.2007

What the Hell Are You Doing There Anyhow???

I just got my mail. A package from AJ, an invitation to my best friends wedding (which is on the verge of making me cry. Is it really too much to wait one year?), and a letter from AM asking just what the hell I do that I consider "work". Hmm. What do I do here?

I guess I'll just share my diary for the last and upcoming weeks...

Last week was GLOW, and I already talked about it, albeit in a not-so-eloquent blog. I got home Saturday night, had an AIDS talk with some youngin's at a church on Sunday, 3 loads of smelly laundry and my Women's group meeting on Monday, a no-show meeting at the FFS office, where I instead typed my supervisor's resume, then went to an AIDS talk with mamas at a different church on Tuesday, woke early to go pick chili peppers, then went to a 2nd try of yesterday's meeting, then to a lunch date, which took me to an Educational Assessment office for a brief meeting, before I came here to do this, which will be followed by a bit of shopping.

Tomorrow is pretty open, but that is likely to change. Friday I am going to Kisumu to see how much of my "living allowance" I can drink before I have to be back to a church group on Saturday. I'm going to church Sunday, before I move to a different one for yet another AIDS talk. Another Women's group meeting on Monday when we will move our chickens into their new house and (hopefully) discuss what to do about the orphans we support, then 3 days of High Value Tree sensitization in 3 locations, mixed with time at a HIV+ group meeting and a Market Clean-Up day.

The week after is somewhat open - just my regularly scheduled program. The 12th-14th June I have my Mid-Service medical exam. It's a meet & greet with my intestinal parasites, as well as a chance for some deep probing into various orafices of my body. Fun, eh? No idea yet what comes in the following two weeks, but hopefully it will include enough work to reduce the guilt I *may* feel for the month of absence that is July.

I hope that all the above sounds as busy and crazy as it feels. It's really satisfying and definitely exhausting. I'm on a good week, sleeping like the dead every night. I hope that theme continues indefinitely. I don't know why May isn't over yet, though. It should be, by now. Sunday is my 1 year anniversary, for arrival in Kenya. 14 more months of service!!

5.20.2007

Camp GLOW

Alright kids! Something fun to talk about! I just got back last night from Nairobi (Kibera, to be specific) where we had a week-long camp GLOW - Girls Leading Our World. It's something hosted by the GAD committee, which I think I already posted about.

We left EARLY on Sunday morning, leaving Kakamega at 8am. Me, J and 4 girls. We picked 6 more before leaving Kisumu. A decent crowd of kids! All are secondary school girls that were nominated to go by a PCV. They were nominated for showing leadership, success and potential. So, we all left for the painful ride to Nairobi.

Mum, by the way, bring Dramamine for the trip! You'll be sorry if you don't!

We arrived Nairobi about 5p, right in rush hour, and had to take our ducklings through City Center, loaded with crap, to find a bus to Kibera. Know Kibera? That's the biggest slum in all of Africa. On the edges there is a place called Rowlan Scout Camp, where we stayed. Real nice little joint in the woods. They had tents, sleeping bags and mattresses for the girls, mattresses and blankets for us (we brought out own tents and bags), toilets, showers and some choos. The place is surrounded by an electric fence and has a lot of people around, so we all felt nice and safe.

It was a busy week, packed with activities. The PCVs (about 15 of us, I think) all tried to get up before the girls, to show them how enthusiastic we are and all that. But no. These are mostly boarding school girls, who are used to getting up at 4:30a to be washed and ready for the day. So, even sleeping in, they were still up and moving by 5:30a or so, well before us, and we woke at 6a!!

Wake-up stretches and exercise, then breakfast, then activities, then chai, then more activities, then lunch, then even more activities, then second chai and yet more activities, then dinner and some down time. LOTS of eating! I told the girls I expected them to each gain 5kilos in our week together. They all just laughed at me. Seriously, though, it made me happy to see them all eating so much, because I know it is WAY more than they ever get at home.

During all our meals, we were hounded by monkeys. Hoards of monkeys!! The smallish ones with looooong tails. Extremely cute, but theivin' lil' bastards! They stole an entire loaf of bread one morning, and some uncooked chapati dough another morning. Anything they could get to!

Our activities were both PC-based - re: health, sex, gender roles, the washable pads, etc. and DEPOT-based - leadership training, teamwork games, challenges, etc. DEPOT is the Dan Eldon Place of Tomorrow. Cheesy name, right? Yea, until they took us to Dan's room and explained who he was. In the 70s/80s, he was a photo-journalist who went to refugee camps and war-torn countries to photograph the people. His photos are amazingly gorgeous. He's got a book on Somalia and a Journal published, so maybe you can find one? I guess the photos themselves aren't for sale, and that is a damn shame. He's an American and was eventually stoned to death for this crime. His family and friends decided to find a way to keep his work alive and established the DEPOT. Do some research - learn more!

DEPOT volunteers included Wanja, Qui and Anne. These sadistic ladies led the ropes and teamwork activities as well as our morning exercises and served our meals. They are SO energetic! It was crazy to see! So much fun, though.

I hope to be accessing photos relatively soonish. Gotta snitch them from other people, as I was a numbnut and forgot my camera at home. I'll let ya know. In the meantime, I have a few posted on FaceBook now. Go see!

5.07.2007

I Know a Volunteer

I know a volunteer who swallowed white flies. He was trying to tease, by swallowing flies! That's one of those foods I'm still chicken to try...

I know a volunteer who ate up some fish. She had it prepared as a local dish, And told me later, it was rather delish!

I know a volunteer who had a rat. She heard it scurry across the mat, Then killed the rat with a mighty Splat! (It was me, in fact)

I know a volunteer who found a cat. It came too late to catch the rat, So it stole some bread - imagine that!

I know a volunteer who heard a dog. That dog could howl, like a boat in the fog, A howl that woke her, though she slept like a log.

I know a volunteer who would act like a goat, Bleating real crazy, with his eyes all afloat. I miss that guy; I should send him a note.

I know a volunteer who chased a bull. It had come in her house in the afternoon lull And eaten her soap - a half tub full!

I know a volunteer who never could sleep, At least not a sleep that was ever deep. So she sat up in bed and wrote out this rhyme To post on her blog and pass the time.

I wish they were tales, those lines you've just read, But it's all just as real as my comfortable bed!

4.17.2007

A Monsoon By Any Other Name...

Okay, okay, okay. I am NOT gonna be one of those people who begs for something only to whine when I get what I asked for. But, as They say, 'When it rains, it pours' and pours, and pours, and my goodness! I never realized that a "long rain" actually meant a 12-hour rain!

The Long Rains are officially upon us, which is great, as it's broken most of the heat and has inspired the vegetation to grow! Which, really, is the point of it all. Just like the Short Rains, it starts about 3 or 4pm, but these ones will last well through the night. It's insane. And it isn't just a slow drizzle that never stops, it's hard-core, pound on that damn tin roof 'til you're ready to kill someone kinda rain. Intense.

Every day from last Tuesday until sometime in June or so, it will rain. Every day. If April showers bring May flowers, what do the showers of May and June bring? Heaps of maize, I guess...

In related news, I bought a new umbrella (since my super-cool polka dot one was stolen by some asshole on a matatu). It's light blue with this cartoon face drawn on it - definitely Japanese - and, the best part?, ears that stick up when you open the umbrella! I'll have someone piga a snap for you all. It was 160/= or about $2. Not bad! Even has a whistle attached, in case I get swept away in the rains. Safety & Protection.

4.02.2007

Nile River Explorers

I am fresh off the matatu from Uganda and can't wait to tell y'all all about my rafting trip! Here comes the play-by-play, right from the beginning...

I left Saturday morning, meeting K in town and travelling together. We chose to just use a matatu (and not a big bus) for the money savings. The trip went up and through Busia, where the main border crossing is.

On the way there, about 20 minutes away from Busia, I realized that I had left my passport at home - completely forgotten about in the hassle of moving and packing for a trip all in one day! I freaked out! Absolute panic- I really thought I would puke on myself, to get so close and then be turned away for something so stupid. But, we decided to try it, before making decisions about my returning or backing out cabisa.

Kenya's guard looked at me, at my Resident card, and shook his head. tsk tsk tsk! I begged and cajoled until he said, 'Whatever. Go see if Uganda will let you in.' I did, and Uganda laughed at me! There was 3 or 4 of them, just cracking up at us silly little white girls too dumb to remember a passport. But finally he said yes! He said it was fine, tsk'd me some more, and then wrote a note saying I had forgotten my papers, but had a 7-day visa to Uganda and to let me back out of the country! YAHOO!

On the Ugandan side, we met up right away with 9 others of our crew, completely by coincidence. It was great timing! K and I made the last 2 butts in the vehicle, and we headed out for the 2hr ride to Jinja.

The place overlooks a bend in the river and is very chill. Dorm beds, a bar, good food at decent prices, and there's an advantageous fellow with a chapati/egg stand just outside the gate with the most delicious wraps at killer-cheap prices. We drank and drank and drank, only briefly pausing to question the effect that would have on the next day.

Next day came, we woke early and prepared. Several were hung-over or had belly probs, but most recovered in time. One, the Birthday Girl, was rough the entire day, and spent the trip in the safety boat, missing out on the real scary stuff. All together, we were 23 ppl, mostly PC, but some extra folks mixed in. 6 or 7 ppl in each boat, 3 full boats. My guide was Henry, a Ugandan with 10 yrs guiding experience.

We started with breakfast at 9a and began rafting about 10/10:30a. Lunch came about 1p, then more rafting, so we returned to camp about 5p. A long day!! We all were just coated in sunscreen, as the rays are intense and so many people just fry out there.

Our first rapid was a class 4, but a bad one, and our boat totally wiped out almost immediately. Bodies went flying, paddles went flying, and we were all sucked under the water. Henry says we were down for 5 or so seconds, but I tell you what.. it felt like forever! No air, no idea which way is up, I got clobbered on the nose by who-knows-what/who. I opened my eyes and only saw green! Finally I caught a glimpse of a body, figured it must know where the surface was, and grabbed on. Air!!

Our boat flipped 3 of the 11 rapids, and I fell out on a 4th one. None of the flips were as scary as that first, because we caught on the the idea of clinging to the boat! Guaranteed to reach the surface that way!! And, we got better and seeing which of the many big scary waves were going to flip us over and out.

Most of the rapids were class 4 and 5, with a few 3s mixed in to ease it all out. What's this class business, you ask? Well, it's a way to tell people how scary and close to death a rapid is. I think 6 is the highest, and you can't go through a 6 in the big rafts, only in small boats or kayaks. And the 6s certainly look like they will kill you, even then! A class 1 is basically choppy water, and no big deal at all.

In between the rapids there was calm time of just getting through that gorgeous river called the Nile. It is SO big and SO wide! We saw tons of cranes and herons and swimming birds, a couple of monkeys, lots of naked Africans and a crocodile. Well... sort of. One of the guys noticed a water bottle floating up stream, a strange thing to see. He insisted there was something below it, pushing it, but we couldn't tell what, and Henry didn't offer a clue. Later, I heard from someone in another boat, that the rafting people had decided to tag the popular crocs for safety. They stuck empty water bottles to their head, somehow, so you can always be sure to spot one at a safe distance. Is that crazy shit or what?

They recorded most of our trip and Bwana Kubwa is buying it and will copy it for us all. I can't wait to show it to you guys so you can see what it was like! (Scary as hell, is what it was!) Look at some pics at www.raftafrica.com

Love y'all! I'm outta here to go and eat some food and get home to sleep. Damn, I'm tired!

3.26.2007

Home, Sweet Home

What an original title, eh? Yea, I know. Screw you, too!

Really, though, I'm writing to celebrate my new home, so what else would I write? What?! New home?! You mean PC finally, 2 whole months later, found a new place for you in that big ol' country full of groups desperately-seeking-PCVs?? Why yes, they did! And a nice one, at that!

It is in a "suburb" of Kakamega (isn't that a great thought?), along the Mumias road. Shirulu, or something that sounds like that. I'm with the Wake Up Women's Group, a very dedicated, hardcore group of mamas (my favorite people in this place), who have promised to put my sorry butt to work. They have been told I left ASDP due to lack of work and stinginess on Napoleon's part, so they know they need to keep me busy or I'll leave them, too. I'll let you know work specifics as they are told to me.

My house is a step to the side, really. Can't say it's a lot better or a lot worse. Nice compound, smaller than the old, but more family-feeling. Pumped borehole. Big shamba. House is made of mud, 3 roomed (bedroom, sitting room, kitchen) and is cozy, but should be perfect for one person. Outdoor bafu and choo. Very clean feeling, no bats, still no ceiling, linoleumish floor (to make washing easier). My new mama has a HUGE place with solar power, so I can watch some TV and charge my phone there, if she's into it. She's got around 7 sons and I'm her first/only daughter, so I think she'll be into it!

For mail, I'll share an address in Kakamega with Joe, the SED volunteer to helped me to find this group. It's PO Box 2451, Kakamega 50100. Send letters IMMEDIATELY! Kakamega is 10min drive away, or an hour by bike, which Joe will be pushing me to do.

My favorite part? I'll be eating well here. They grow pumpkin, chili peppers, orange sweet potato, mushrooms, etc. The market is CLOSE, busy everyday, and when I need, I can come to Kakamega town for even more. HOO-RAH! Much love to you all, but I have to get the hell out of here so I can catch the matatu back home. Yet another night of cabbage soup for me... (I've decided, based on the slowness of todays boda drivers, that I need to reduce! That, and, there's nothing else to eat but cabbage. Oh well.)

3.16.2007

Cross Sector

Today is Friday, the final day of our annual Cross Sector meeting. It's just that magical opportunity for PCVs from all sectors (by which I mean Public Health, SED/ICT, Education & BCC) to get together, listen to lectures, share info, meet each other, and get our counterparts out of the village.

Highlights:

  • A rompin' round of Presidents & Assholes.
  • My fight with an obnoxiously drunk Indian who felt it okay to call me a slut, but was angry when I called him an ass for cheating on his wife.
  • Flu shot that left a huge, red, hot patch on my arm. Big thanks to PC/DC for that requirement.
  • Chilling with the new CD, Ken P., who has been turning out to be a groovy dude.
  • Learning Kenyan Sign Language
Housing update:

Bomet is out, as there is no housing. Ziwa is out, as there is no housing. Burnt Forest, Kakamega, Busia and Siaport (sp?) are all options that will be explored next week. I Begged the people at XSector to recommend a site for me. Kibet says it worked, as a number approached him with info on other sites. Keep your fingers crossed...

Weekend plans:

Going back to the G7 house for more daquaris, baked yummies and movies. Then, St. Patty's in Kisumu, hopefully with green beer. Sunday I'll travel to Nairobi, maybe by train, maybe not. Monday is the Gender & Development (GAD) meeting, and I plan on being elected on to the committee.

3.04.2007

150

This is my 150th post on Blogger! Yay!

This weekend was the badass G7 party in Kakamega! We met these two G7 people (it's an NGO) at the lunch with Ambassador's Stand-In, about a month ago. The fellow was silly enough to invite 20 PCVs to his place for a party. 12 of us showed up, and it was a blast!

Lots of food, lots of alcohol (including banana daqaris!) , music and projected movies. He brought cake mixes from home, so we made cake and cookies, just because we were able to bake. I miss baking!!!!! Mmmm.... cake!

I have no idea when sleep came, but it was just like a 6th grade sleepover, with everyone whispering and spread all over the floor in sleeping bags. Bummer that the floor is, you know, kinda hard. But still! It was fun!

This morning we woke about 7:30a, had chocolate cake, fruit, mimosas, eggs, potaters, and sausage for the carnivores. Watched another movie, too. mmmmm.... food! My belly is SO full.

This fella was way too generous - all the food, the hospitality, then a bag of Kisses, a 4-pack of (soft, luxurious, American) toilet paper and time on the internet. Later, he'll actually drive us (partly) home. How freakin' amazing is that!!!

G7 does stuff with computers, taking donated ones from America and refurbishing them for Kenyan schools and such. I'm on the famous IBM Craptop from 1998 right now. Feels like old times... Maybe NMU donates their oldies?

No updates on the move. Sorry. Maybe I'll learn something tomorrow? Bye! I'll be back to the net in a week, when I'm in town for Cross Sector meetings. Tutaonana!

3.02.2007

What a Bunch of Nonsense!

Why did the chicken cross the road? Just to see if he could!

The bees are back in my chimney, or somewhere. Wherever, they are definitely back.

How to greet in Kenya: Find a person who's REALLY far away and shout "How are you? How are you? How are you? How are you?" until they are too far away to see anymore. Pick someone new.

The rain is back, big time. I guess this means it's time to plant, and time to get the hell out of here, before the rains destroy the "roads" and lock me in.

I'm in Kakamega for a party tomorrow night. I came early in order to a.) Use internet, b.) Avoid packing, cleaning, working at home, c.) Get really drunk and pretend I'm someone else, or d.) All of the above, plus a little more, if the opportunity strikes.

The Wonder Spot, by Melissa Bank, is an extremely good book, which I am enjoying tremendously. Please find it and read it.

Seriously, though. I'm convinced that a chicken's need to cross the road is just because someone is approaching. And their speed of crossing is inversely related to your own travelling speed. Meaning, if you are slowly walking, they'll haul ass to get across before you. If you are in a rush, biking or driving, they will slowly scootch their way across, sqwaking at you as you brake/swerve/and otherwise avoid crushing them. Sometimes I use this as evidence of the stupidity of birds. But then, at 200/= a pop, these suckers are worth a lot more dead, than alive. Maybe their owners train them?

I have 3 weeks worth of laundry, 1 week worth of clothes line, and no rope for the well (which is jammed with two fallen buckets, anyhow). What I don't have, is soneone reliable enough to wash my clothes for me.

I'm writing new lyrics to that song "She's a Maniac (for Love)", or whatever it's called. 80's tune. In my version? "She's a Lazyass" I haven't made it out of the chorus yet.

2.24.2007

Oh! Did I Forget to Tell You? You're Fired!

(Can someone please pass the word- "She's fired!")

Yea. Napolean, the little man that couldn't, has fired me from the NGO. How awesome is that? I mean, really, how bloody awesome is that? It isn't. Damn.

The big long drama....

I go to work on 29 Jan in Eshinutsa. No biggie. On 30 Jan, I go to the office, as usual. My counterpart, M, tells me that there was a staff meeting last night, and I can't figure out what about, no one will tell me. Yea, well, no one would tell me either. Eventually, he finds out that there was a meeting to discuss my work and how I was going to be removed by PC. Napolean had written a letter to PC detailing my failings and asking for my removal. This was followed with a phone call requesting details on when I would be gone. Then the meeting with everyone but M and I. On Friday I get a call from my APCD saying, "Did you hear? You've been fired."

NO ONE except M will give me any details to this. But they all know, and they all talk about it, behind my back- no, sorry, In front of my face, in Luhya, so I don't really understand what's being said.

2 weeks pass, with no sign of Napolean, no word from him or confirmation of the "rumour". Finally, at the end of the 3rd week, he calls me in to say, "I hear you've been needing to speak to me." I say, no, YOU need to speak to ME. WTF? He spends the next 2hours lying to me about why I am being fired, lying to me about the meeting, and refusing to allow me to see the letter he wrote to the APCD, despite an earlier offer to let me read it.

Big pile of bullshit.

The reasons? There's 3: 1. I feel misplaced (true) and have no work to do in the community (not true), 2. I am completely unsupervisable (because he's a moron, and too stupid to ever call me in and ASK ME), and 3. I insist on having a day to go and buy food every week (true- because I don't have a wife who will do it for me, and it's the only way to get something other than a tiny tomato or an onion).

No, this does not mean I am leaving PC. Kibet was smarter than to suggest it to me, and I'm not ready to do it anyhow. Too bad, Kenya. I'm sticking around! It does mean I have to have a site change. My APCD is looking in to Bomet, a town south of Kisii, in the Rift Valley, with the Kalinjins. I'd be dead center between Kisumu and Nairobi, close to the Masai Mara, and in a supposedly beautiful area with a good project. Still no stima, still no maji, still no sign of civilization. I'm not excited about this, but I'm trying to look on it as a possibly positive twist of fate.

Meanwhile, the Chieves have declared I am not allowed to leave, and are searching for a new org. in the Kisa area. I really like that - makes me feel LUVD. The community is upset, and Napolean is losing a lot of respect.

Who knows how much longer this will take. I am in Kisumu this weekend to party with the PCVs and bid farewell to S, my MI girl, who got AdSepd. Bullshit, of course. (There's now only 30 of us from the original 39 who made it into Kenya.) But so much fun to be here!! I will let you know as soon as its all official. In the meantime, mail can be sent to the Nairobi address, from PST - the PO Box 30518.

Much love to you all.

Where's my damn letters?!?

2.06.2007

Gosh, Baby! I Hardly Felt a Thing!

Today was my very first time! I say that with an exclamation, and I'm not really sure I should. I mean... your first time is always exciting, if only because it's new, something to put on the list of "Done That"s. But then... Maybe this isn't something to be all that excited about?

Mum, Dad, calm down. It's nothing nasty!! Well. Not the nasty thing you're thinking about (ewww! I'm your Daughter!!)

Today I had my very first operation. Real, live surgery, and I got to be awake for the whole dang thing!

So, about a month ago now, I gave myself a "pedicure" with a toothpick. My 2nd toe on the right got a little weird a few days later, prolly from my digging around. No biggie. It looked like a callus, on the tip (past the nail), and I figured it's full of pus. So, what do I do? I play. I dig. I poke. Gotta get it out, right? But it wasn't coming out like it should, just little bits of water, not the real stuff I could see in there. So I got a lancet, conveniently included in my med kit, and continued to dig deeper. But still, nothing coming. Damn.

All this time, it has both itched and hurt at the same time, like a mosquito bite you've already scratched too much. I scratch, say ouch, and scratch some more. And keep playing with the new bloodblister/scab that has formed. Play, pick, play, pick.

Last night it starts THROBBING. Damn, did that mo-fo hurt. I took a couple codeine and nothing. At midnight I finally call medical who says, 'hey dumbass, you take Ibuprofen for inflammations' and that I need to haul butt to a doctor in the morning. At the PC office, L says, "Oh, prolly just a staph infection. They're really going around right now. Don't worry!"

The good Dr. S had a different idea. "That's jiggers", she says with hardly a glance. It's WHAT?!? I want to stand up and vomit, just like the kid in the waiting room did minutes before. I have ^shudder^ critters living in my foot?? She says she can cut it out, no prob, it will just take a second. I, for those of you who don't know me, immediately turn into a baby and beg for a local anesthetic. PLEASE! Please don't just cut me! Turns out, for needle jabs between the toes isn't really a nice feeling. (Mum, Dad: This was further affirmation that I could NEVER be a heroin addict. Please breathe a sigh of relief) I made a promise not to kick her, like the kid before me (who was attempting to have a roach removed from her ear canal) and strangled the IV pole instead.

10 minutes later, she had me laying, sort of, on the table for the katikati of the jiggers. The anesthetic was amazing! I hardly felt even the pressure of her touching me, and certainly not the pain of a knife slicing me! But did I whimper and whine? You betcha! She packed it and sent me on my way, with a bloody crater in my toe. G-Ross. It still hurts like a toe that's been sliced, but I have pills for that. I'm not afraid!

Her advice for avoiding jiggers in the future? "Go back to America."

1.25.2007

Whatever

Not really anything good to say... Oh, I should follow up to the last stuff, eh, and finish whatever I was talking about. Maybe.

So, like I told you, I was in Kakamega, on my way to lunch with Mr. Ambassador. Well, he actually had a meeting in Nairobi to smooth over the bombings in Somalia and couldn't make it. All the other grown ups cross their hearts he was really looking forward to meeting all of us. I, of course, accept this response proudly- who wouldn't want to have lunch with us?? We suggested a re-do, but who knows if it will happen.

All in all, it was still really a good time. I got to meet 5 or 6 new PCVs, remeet some old ones, and get a free lunch, followed by free beer. 2 folks from this G7 group were there and super friendly to us, buying the beer and announcing a party at their place in a few weeks. And the real teaser? They have an OVEN! You bet your bottom I'm coming!! The government people were all really cool, though, so it was well worth going to, and I only wish I could have more of those opportunities.

That night was a sleepover at Joe's place. 7 total, and we made spagetti and then french toast for breakfast. Fun times.

At site (oh yea! work!) I have finally started to earn my pay. I was really sick right after Lamu, but have mostly recovered. I'm just snotty now, not near-dead like I felt before. I sat in the office last Monday, doing NOTHING and feeling lame. The voice in my head came on and suggested that, if I want work, I need to get off my sorry ass and go find it. Introductions are over, it's time to talk serious commitments and schedules. And, since Napolean hardly talks to me, let alone offers suggestions of work projects, it's truly up to me.

I now spend Mondays in Eshinutsa, first at the clinic and then at the Secondary school to talk with the female students (all male teachers there). Tuesday afternoons will be at Mundaha Primary, with the Health Club. Wednesday morning, for the next month at least, will be back at Eshinusta 2ndary, to talk with boys and girls. That leaves me a lot of open space, still, but I ain't done! That's just a week worth of effort!

The key to passing the next 18 months, and passing them in a way that will cause warm fuzzies when I reminisce (sp?), is to be busy, busy, busy with work. Sitting around is just too boring and makes time just crawl along.

Another bonus here? I bike to Eshinutsa (maybe 30 min?), and have been biking to Kilingili again. I ran out of money, so biking was the only way to get to the Posta and to get to the market. My tushy and quads are soooooore now! But, maybe this belly I have will take a hike...

I am in Kisumu today. I'm here for research -no really!- and to pick up a package. The camels have finally made it across Africa, bringing a package sent in early July. Take notice, those of you who send groundmail - it takes about 6 months to arrive! That means, don't stick any yummy cupcakes in there, eh? So, anyway, 6 months of waiting reveals that I have the Worlds Greatest Mum who really missed me a lot. It's awesome! FULL of sauce packets for sauces I didn't know existed, let alone came in little packets! And cheese for Mac&Cheese, M&Ms, a new cap and even a mouth gaurd for my Nalgene, and shirts, knives, towels, ... a lot of damn good stuff!

I'll be back in 2 weeks, if all goes well. In the meantime, write me letters! You know who you are! I expect mail from some of those unheard from peoples. Sawa? You don't get a letter unless you send a letter, and it starts with YOU.

Cool. Peace out, dudes.

1.19.2007

Just the News, Please

Right-O!

Back from Lamu. I didn't have the money to spend in Kisumu, so you all didn't get to hear my pretty words on the vacation. Just now got to Kakamega (going to be taking lunch with the Ambassador today. Yes, thank you, I know I am important!) so I have some time, though still no money, to write you.

Lamu was Amazing! The trip there sucked eggs, but it was worth it, in the end. So, remember how I said we were going to take the train to Mombasa? Haha!! Silly girl! We all hopped on, set up the laptop and speakers, pulled out the booze and got settled. About midnight we started falling off, but woke to a strange feeling at 2am. The feeling of not moving. hmm... Whatever, let's go back to bed, get some sleep. Sawa. 8am I am awake again and no, we still aren't moving. WTF?

Turns out there is a lake lying over the tracks, just before Kabweze, which is only 2 or so hours outside Nairobi. Crap almighty. We wait there until noon, hoping the water will magically disappear (honestly), and when it doesn't, we wait another hour to be pulled back to Makindu, where we are supposed to get buses the rest of the way. We just got our own matatu, filled it with all 15 of us and all our luggage, and left. Oh, the horror!!!

At least this way we could get to Malindi, not just Mombasa. Our vehicle arrived at 2am, when all the hotels were booked. So, we just went to the gas station where our bus to Lamu would leave from and crashed there, in the middle of it all. Nice, eh? We pass the night in the streets and do okay.

7:30am, the bus arrives. It's okay, 'cause we have tickets and will get seats, hurrah! Until the next 200 people cram into the aisles, mushing us into our seats, forcing us against the windows and raising the temperature considerably. For 8 hours. KILL ME.

We arrive, hot, sweaty and angry, and boat over to the island ("it's an island?", I think). It's a 3-story house, owned by a very cute Frenchman with a boyfriend, where we fit 16 people into 3 bedrooms, 6 beds and 2 tents.

Hey, sorry, I'll finish this later... No money...

No, Really Dude! We're, uh, So Sad You're Dead!

To all my future visitors, I can only hope you'll be so lucky as to arrive in time for a real Kenyan funeral. They sound like such a riotously good time (from my bed, at 3am) that I would hate to have you miss the fun, the culture, the experience.

Someone here told me that the newly dead should not sleep alone their first few nights in the grave. So, families will rent HUGE sound systems and blast their music all through the night. Maybe the idea is to forcefully keep themselves awake by cranking the volume until sleep is impossible. Which might be acceptable, if they didn't aim the speakers outward, toward their sleeping neighbors! Or maybe the aim is to wake the dead, and the family is kind enough to try and reach out to everyone. Who really knows?

The hills and valleys in my area, though, they have an Amazing ability to transport sound so that music from 2 or 3 kilometers away sounds as clear (and loud) as music from right next door.

The problem with this comes at 2am, after you've been struggling for sleep for the last 4 hours. You stumble into your sandals, arm yourself with a panga and step outside, prepared to murder your neighbor. But then you realize, the noise isn't, in fact, from next door, but rather from some chump's place, waayyy over there, across the valley. Sure, you could probably make it over there and complete your mission. But if the music is this loud here, then.... damn! How freakin' loud is it over there?!?

I just don't understand how people known for their hospitality can be SO RUDE as to keep their hard-working neighbors awake all night! Or, how these people tolerate such behavior! That's what you get in a town with no cops and no phones with which to call them, I guess.

The part of me not desperate for sleep wants to get dressed and go over to shake my booty all night. I mean, really!, an all-night disco with no cover charge? In Kenya?? I'm there!

And just when you think it will be worth every effort to find this home and slaughter them all, one by one, it stops.

Peace!

And it's only 4:30am, so, that's like, 2 hours of sleep, and, I could almost survive the next da- Cock-A-Doooooodle-Dooooooooo!!!!!!! And you realize, with a tear, that the music has only stopped because it is dawn. Time to get up and start the chores, start the day. The whole night has passed with hardly a wink. Where was my sleep????

But sleep does come, finally, lulled by sweet dreams of snapping the neck of every rooster in the land. Joy!! One, by One, by One, by One....

12.27.2006

We're on the Way...!!

In Nairobbery today, in transition to Mombasa. Yahooooo!!! All us PCVs keep happening upon each other, so it's nice to have buddied up with a couple folk. After this, I'm gonna try to squeeze in a waxing to be sure I am ready for the beach. I hope I can make it!!!!

The ride out here was nice - I took the train. As we are leaving Kisumu, I'm watching the city go by out the windows, nice view, yadda yadda. Whoa! What the hell?? Yes, this IS, in fact, a little boy riding a camel down the tracks. Riiight.... Karibu Kenya, I guess..!

Christmas was nice. Went to the other mzungu's house, met her hubby and her family and kula chapati nyingi! Santa was really good to me. He sent peanut M&Ms (lots!), new jammies with obscene logos (and from K&L! Who'da guessed it?), my jeans!!!!!!!, and banana breads. YUM! I am SO happy to report that YES!! I still fit easily into my jeans!! I'm sorry to say the breads are already gone. Damn that's tasty bizness!

So, the next train leaves tonight at 6:30p, check-in at 5:30p. *sigh* I don't know if/where/how expensive the internet is in Mombasa or in Lamu. Hopefully you'll get some posts from there. I got some things to say, but I really wanted to get this all in there first. I have an excessive amount of liquor now, and the full intention of rotting my liver on the beach a la Caymans. I mean, c'mon, what goods the liver anyway? Right?

Happy Christmas and a Merry New Year! Hello 2007!! (and exactly 18 months left!)

12.17.2006

Love for the West Side

Back in Kisumu. I had a bus ticket, leaving at 9p on Saturday night. We really left about 9:30, and took it slooooow. Didn't get in until 6a, 2 hours late. And my dumb ass was foolish enough to believe I might sleep on that ride, and be able to tune out the horrible roads. NOPE! The horrible roads, coupled with the driver's need to swerve around the giant holes in the road kept me awake and just short of seasick.

Seriously, I think these roads were paved by the Brits; 50 years ago, before they left Kenya. Once I get back to Michigan, I swear, I'll never complain about the roads again! Like, there, the roads are mostly paved, with big potholes. Here, the roads are mostly holes with some patches of pavement. Worse than a gravel road, I swear.

Before I left Nairobi I spent FAR too much money at this market. The good news is, I bought stuff for the lovely people back home. The bad news is, you still have to wait until I return before you'll get to see any of it. Pole! It's some schnazzy stuff, though, so I am pleased!

I also made a point to get to the theatre, as Eragon was playing, and I couldn't be sure if I'd make it in Kisumu. Mum. I hate to say this, but I must: I am so sad that you didn't warn me what a piece of shit that movie is. I spent 350/= (because everything costs more in NRB) on one of the worst movies I have ever seen. God, was it just the cheesiest script you've ever had the misfortune to have paid good money for? And poor, poor Chris P. (the author). He must be so ashamed, 'cause this will never make the sequel. Or, at least, I hope they never film the sequel!

Why, oh Why didn't you tell me?? I mean, I have to assume that you have been to see the movie. I expect you were there in the opening week. Or have I totally flaked out, that there was a warning and I missed it? Well, to my fellow man, let me state for the record: Eragon was a SHITTY movie! Please, just read the book and let that be sufficient!

Okay, enough. I leave fore site tomorrow. I am going to go hippo hunting, climb a mini-mountain and read at least 4 books in the next week and a half. Then, it's the 25th of December, also known as the day before I leave for Coast. It appears that I have a brother and sister that love me very much, and have made it possible for me to have a rauciously good time. Asanteni sana, na orio muno!! I might get another post here before then, in the travel time, or else it will be on the way back, which is on or after the 5th.

Peaceful, loving, happy and healthy holidays to you all. I'd wish you a Merry Christmas in Swahili, but no one has taught me how yet. I'll let ya know.

12.15.2006

IST

IST: Incredibly Senseless Timewaster.

It's Friday, so we are finished with out training. Nairobi has been COLD all week, but otherwise nice. Great to see (party hard with) the other PCVs. Been missing out on some good fun!

With all us out at site, and with the regional borders that keep most of us from seeing the others, it's been like a class reunion. All the Westerners know and love each other, have all the scoopage on our lives, etc. Same for all the Eastern/Centrals. But we're 2 different groups now, that have continued to divide ourselves a bit, unconsciously. I think IST has helped bring it all back.

The cultural adventures in Nairobi have made this one a worthwhile visit for me. Like, Ethiopian food on Tuesday. (C&M: yea, it was a lot like Blue Nile, but better, with the cutest little Ethiopian hostess and the more authentic ambiance) Then there was gelato (Nutella and black forest for me, thanks!). Last night a bunch of us went out for Sushi. Damn!

5 of us sat at the low tables, barefoot, while the rest of the crowd was out in another room at tables. I ate a bunch, and it was SO good! Tuna sashimi, Dynamite and then Rainbow rolls, soup, tea, mmm... All that for less than 1,000/=, which isn't bad, in my book. Add in the cutie-pie waiter, and it was awesome. I will absolutely be back to that place, and to sushi places in the US.

So I was gonna write another article for you all, was even outlining in my nog last weekend, right? Yea. Lost it! It took all bloody week to get the last one written, and it was enough time to lose the other file. Damn brain! Although, to be fair, there was a bit of a massacre this week, so we're working in crisis mode. Whatever. It might return.

You're an Animal!! Part One: On the Boma

On the average Luhya boma (homestead/compound/place where all the sons and their fams live cozied up to Mama) you will find a bizzunch of smelly critters. All for use of some kind, even if it only seems as lawnmowers. Let's start at the top, with the bigg'uns and work our way down, shall we? Let's.

Mooooooo... Moooooo.... MOOOOO... Have a cow, man! Cows, "ngombe" in Swahili, are on almost every single boma around. They are kept for milk, and almost never used for meat, as the things cost some 10,000/= and no one has the refridgeration needed to store all that meat. There's two kinds: traditional and dairy. The traditionals are weird looking and called “zebu” - bony, big sharp horns and a floppy hump on the back of their neck. I don't have the slightest clue what that hump does, so... yea. The dairy cows are more what you see when you think 'cow'. Well, not really the black and whites, but the shapes the same, ya know? Trads are cheaper, but don't give nearly as much milk. Maybe only a few cups a day. Dairys give a few litres, so you can sell to your neighbors and make some cash - it's 10/= for a cup, 20/= for a bottle (maybe 1/2 litre?). Trads can eat Anything and will be taken out to graze, or mow the lawn. Dairys are snots, requiring napia grass, which is either bought or grown in the shamba. Also, as an fyi, cows like mango and banana peels, but not passion fruit rinds, cabbage, or pineapple. Store that away, just in case.

Next down from a cow is either the sheep or the goat. These aren't always around, and I think they are kept for meat, though the idea of goat milk is starting to build. I’m really curious about this one. Rumor is it’s healthier for humans than moo milk, but I think it’s a matter of taste. (B just told me that they sell camel milk at Nakumatt. I think he’s trying to get me to buy it, but, uh… No. Seriously, where the hell does camel milk come from?? Mum, Dad, stop reading this, I think it’s getting nasty.) Bl does an awesome mbuzi imitation, and now I laugh every time I pass one on the bush.

The sheep are totally ugly, with fatty tails that wag uncontrollably. They make weird noises, not baaaaas like you think. More like someone screaming. Kinda freaky, if you aren’t expecting them. And they are definitely are NOT for wool. Why would you have sheep and not get wool? These are the lawnmowers I was talking about.

Uhh... what’s next? Ah, yes, god, how could I forget?? CHICKENS!! Kuku, kuku, kuku!! The Luhyas luv these little guys. They’re everywhere. And most families bring the kukus in at night, to sleep in the house. When a visitor comes along, they race out to the yard and slaughter a kuku to show their appreciation. So, me, I’m really vocal about how I Don’t eat the kuku, so they don’t have to waste 200/= on a mzungu who won’t appreciate.

It’s damn entertaining, though, living in a land of beasts. Walk through the bush and BAAAAA, suddenly there’s a goat hollerin’ at ya. Or, you carry a stick to thwack the cows and move them out the way. It sure keeps the commute interesting!

12.11.2006

An Update

Deeply sorry it's been so blasted long since I posted. I saw the internet briefly about 2 wks ago, but didn't have anything brilliant prepared. I still don't, but this is free this week, so you'll have to bear with it. I think I'm gonna post 2 essays this week, just to make up. Sawa?

I am in Nairobi, back at AFRALTI for IST. We arrived last night, in time for dinner (yuck. The food here is notsogood) and then celebrated our reunion. There, apparently, was a good sale at the Ukwala, so a few folks had gotten a litre of Special Cane (a mysterious liquor that is made from sugar cane, but isn't rum or vodka) for 190/= ('bout two fifty). Let's say a few of us were a little off our game this morning/afternoon/day. But hot damn!

Oh, yea, and M&D: I shaved my nog again, so it's all super short, even shorter than the snap I had sent. It's fab, cause everyone keeps rubbing my head. LOVE IT!

11.14.2006

Route 11

Transport here in Kenya comes in a lot of forms, each with its own weird title. Boda boda, tuk tuk, matatu, kwa miguu... Sounds sorta foreign to the American ear (and eye, for you all). So, let me do a bit of explaining.

The most popular means of travel in the rural areas is definitely good ol' Route 11. Everyone goes this way, almost every day, almost exclusively. And, you gotta say, it's a pretty good set-up. Free, flexible, your own time, 24 hours a day. 'Route 11? I thought those people didn't have roads' you say? Yes, yes, Route 11 is a little something also called kwa miguu or, in English, your own 2 legs. {Whoa! What the hell is she talking about??} Okay, go over to a full length mirror and take a look. Route ELEVEN. Two ones. Get it? ha? yea...

So, these people walk EVERYWHERE. Ask where a building is and you will be told "not far", because they are so used to walking hours everyday. Consider, in my town, it is an hour walk to get to a real market for food or clothes or supplies. And students are in the same boat - they walk an hour or so to school, then there's the lunch break where they leave campus, then home at the end of the day.

About half the walkers are barefoot for lack of money or for comfort. And I can dig that -me, I love to be barefoot and out in the grass, the mud, whatever. I'd totally be all about it here, 'cept for the whole ringworm thing... PC sorta discourages us from getting ringworm. The problem with walking barefoot all over town (outside the worms, of course), is that your feet slowly turn in to Hobbit feet. They get wide, flat and thick. Ick.

Stepping up from the footpath is the boda boda. Now, I really have to support this method, I like it, I really do. Of course, I like it better in Kisumu with tarmac, and not so much in the village with shitty ass roads. Boda bodas are 2-wheel bikes that have a padded seat (a rectangular patch of padding and bright leather) welded above the back wheel. Usually steps stick out from the center of the wheel, so you can brace your feet, and there are handles just behind/below the drivers seat to hang on. It's cool. All the joys of bike riding, with someone else doing the hardwork! It's great for the environment, it's a mean of self employment for a high number of people, and Much cheaper than a motor vehicle. Of course... some drivers kill time by drinking local brew, and then aren't really great at judging distance or steering or . . . you know. Not bashing their passenger into oncoming traffic.

Next up: the tuk tuk. These do-dads are only in the cities, not in the rurals. It's a small, 3-wheeled vehicle. Bigger than a golf cart, but not by much. The driver is in the front center, and the passengers squeeze into the back. I say 'squeeze' not because they are uncomfortable or overly small, but because we PCVs are cheap and often put 5+ into the 3-seater. They are pretty fun. Like a taxi, it's a private vehicle, so you go wherever you want, and you can fit your groceries, your luggage, whatnot, much more so than on a boda. Price isn't bad, once shared amongst people, but can add up.

After this is probably the 2nd most common transport, the matatu. These are scary, scary vans designed to seat 14 humans, although their contents are never that simple. In reality, the matatus are packed with almost 20 people, chickens, goats, children, big bags of fruit/maize/clothes/etc., a mattress, luggage, and god only knows what else. They drive along the road, on routes, and pick people from the side of the road. Kind of like busses in cities, but far more chaotic.

The other charm to matatues are the Touts, or Conductors. These are the fellas who hang out the side of a matatu and pick passengers. They tell the driver when to stop or go and collect the fare. If the vehicle is packed (always), they are the ones to stand in the doorway, holding on the frame, with the wind blowing through their burgandy vests. Lots are drunks. Almost all are men, young men. They are very active in their work, and will do nearly everything to get your butt in their vehicle. Truly. Do NOT sit in the very back, the seat just behind the door, or the hump by the driver. PCVs have decided the middle middle is best, as, in case of an accident you are well padded on all sides. Fun, eh?

A traveller could also ride a coach bus, like the greyhound, for long distance. These are big, spendy, and not used as often. Or, you could take the train (which is fun). It's been dubbed 'The Lunatic Express'. At first, I thought this was the PCVs being snotty, as this is the world's slowest train. Then I read a book and found out the name is as old as the line, having to do with how it was built. Rumors are abound that the line has been bought by someone with a brain, and it will be repaired and speeded. Who knows...?

Now, had I drafted this essay, as I intended, it would have a great ending. But, since I didn't. Yea. My method of choice is Route 11, and I do it in my Chacos. I love these shoes. I'm never gonna wear socks again...!!!