kenya dig it?

race

Here in Kenya, my whiteness defines me.  Completely inconsequential but equally inescapable, in Awasi I am one of three “mzungu” (the completely politically correct term that means “white traveler”) and am hooted and hollered at hundreds of times a day.  Kids generally pair the mzungu part with “how AH you?” or “give me the money!” whereas male twenty-somethings who think they’re cheeky generally stick to “Mzungu! Will you marry me?”  Imagine if an African American walked down the street and each and every caucasian they met yelled “Black girl!” or if everyone yelled “Asian!” at every passing person of Japanese/Chinese/Thai descent.  It would be straight unacceptable.  In our culture, where racial sensitivity has become the norm, this blatant compartmentalizing would never be tolerated.  Let me be clear - I am not trying to imply that racism has disappeared from the United States. Not at all.  Or that my plight in any way mirrors the experiences of minorities back home.  All I am trying to say is that here in Kenya I am reminded on a moment to moment basis that the color of my skin defines who I am - my ability to get a sunburn connotes incredible wealth and privilege, and people won’t waste as second reminding me of that or attempting to capitalize on the opportunity to get their proverbial chunk of the American dream pie.

Kenya reminds me each and every day just how much I have back home in Wisconsin.  I DONT have to walk miles to get water - I just turn a tap and voila.  I never had to worry that my parents would help me through college, and I took for granted the primary and secondary school given to me by my government.  In a country where school fees disappear into the pockets of corrupt politicians, this is a luxury denied to many  innocent children.  My society is the largest contributor to the climate change that is directly affecting Kenyan rains and therefor the country’s ability to feed itself - and although we are the wealthiest people on the planet we continue to increase our carbon footprint without a second thought.  My family has never been devastated by AIDS, my gender has never limited my opportunities, and never in my life have I had to worry about where I would get my next meal.  I know I have more.  I feel it deep in my stomach every time I see the sheet-metal shacks of a slum or a child without shoes.  Never again will I take shower pressure or internet access or women’s rights or political freedom for granted, and I’ll always be grateful to Kenya for teaching me that.

And yet its hard, because as a poor college student I honestly cannot afford to give money to all the kids who ask, or even to the ones who desperately need a few shillings.  And even if I did, putting money into that outstretched hand only perpetuates the cycle of dependency which I have seen slowly choking Kenya’s NGOs, government, and future prospects.   I know we live in a world where the divide between the rich an the poor is HUGE and growing even bigger, and that it is deeply unfair that some of us have so much when others have so little.  Someday I really do hope I can help to change this.  But for now, I’m just trying to do a little studying, write a few papers, and learn as much as I can from the beautiful people who surround me here.  After 7 months (in the words of my friend Seth) I’m nowhere near tired of Kenya, but of being white in Kenya?  That I could definitely do without.

Which is why a week and a half getaway to South Africa was exactly what the doctor ordered. After only a few minutes in Cape Town it was clear that this South African city has no Kenyan equivalent.  With its infrastructure, restaurants, arts culture and shopping, It had a cosmopolitan feel I’ve only experienced before in Europe.  Yes, it is decadent, and yes, Cape Town (with its townships only a short drive away) certainly has its share of inequalities, but to me the cities beauty definitely out-shined its faults.  There’s the obvious physical beauty - cradled between mountains and ocean, the scenery was beyond compare.  But what I loved even more was the melding of cultures.  Walking down the street, you can see people of just about any race or culture standing side by side.  I could eat sushi or an Indian Dosa and just as easily pick up some traditional Cape Malay cuisine.

Again, the shadow of apartheid necessitates an interjection - Cape Town definitely still has its share of ethnic problems.  My experience in CPT was pretty much restricted to the liberal student-dominated areas, which are not representative of the city as a whole.  All-black or all-colored townships are very much still in existence (we visited one and drove by many more), as are areas of intense white privilege.  Places such as the District Six museum and events like the 20th anniversary of Mandela’s release from Robben island vividly remind us that it wasn’t so long ago that racism was institutionalized, and that its legacy is far from over.

And yet, when I was in Cape Town I felt an incredible sense of hope about the viability of a racially integrated future.  I think the internet has the potential to be the universal equalizer, because by learning about each other tolerance is born.  However, what you read on a webpage can never compare to what you experience day to day, and if we could all go to school at a university as international as UCT, or wander the streets (barefoot, of course, in true Cape Town fashion) of blended neighborhoods like Obs without judgement of those around us, an attitude of tolerance could trickle through society.  Couple this with a more equitable distribution of wealth and it might be possible for future MSID-Kenya students to be defined first for their personality and their values rather than what shade of skin they have.  In that way, Cape Town did more than just provide me a spring break I will never forget. It gave me a renewed sense of hope for a racially integrated future, and for that I cannot thank it enough.

Anyway, these are nothing more than the ramblings of a confused college kid on a 7 hour bus trying to make sense of everything I’ve experienced thus far.  If anyone who reads this finds anything I said above offensive, please know that was not my intent.  Get in touch with me and set me straight.  Race is complicated and inconsequential and life-changing and tricky and stupid and I certainly don’t understand it anywhere close to fully, but I’m trying, and that’s all I’ve got for now.

more cape town stuff to come - in the meantime, much love from kenya!

SOUTH AFRICA

I just got back from the most epic spring break of my life.  Details will follow, but for now the adventure itinerary’s below:

Wed Feb. 24th - Flew in from Nairobi.  Had dinner in Observatory with Aly and Alex - couldve talked with them for hours and hours and hours.

Thurs Feb. 25th - Explored Rondebosh, Aly’s neighborhood, and then volunteered with Equal Ed, a local NGO trying to get libraries into underfunded schools that Aly’s been interning for.  Then we returned home after a grocery store raid and homemade Sweet Potato Gnocchi (nom nom.)

Friday Feb. 26th - Went to class with Aly, then shot downtown for some shopping on Long Street.  After we Jammie’d back to the UCT (University of Cape Town) Wine Tasting Club meeting (learned oh so much about the sauvignon blanc)

Sat Feb. 27th - Visited to the Old Biscuit Mill, essentially a locally sourced Cape Town version of Taste of Madison. Had my first crumpet.  Dressed up and went to the Kirstenbosh Summer Concert - listened and danced to the Soweto Gospel Choir in the shade of Table Mountain. Near religious experience.

Sun Feb. 28th - Went morning beaching at Muizenberg with Al-Pal and her roomates, ate lunch at CPT’s best bakery and then took a Full Moon hike to the tippity top o Lions Head with JAKE.

Mon March 1st - Again went beaching with Al-Pal at Camps Bay, had dinner at Panchos (mexican restaurant with the largest portions in town) with all three of my Madison loves, and then hit up a local Jazz club where we saw Craig David, singer of the classic 2003 hit “Monday, took her for a drink on tuesday…&Thursday and friday and saturday chilled on sunday.” - - too too good.

Tues March 2nd - Went daytripping with Aly to District 6 Museum, had a beautiful milkshake and lunch at the top of Signal Hill at the Noon Gun Tea Room, and photoshoot in the oh-so-colorful Bo Kapp area of town.  Also, spice binge at Atlas Trading Company. mmm mmm masala!

Wed March 3rd - Morning class with Jake Jake Jake, visited the townships with Aly and saw an urban garden with a ton of potential, and then joined Aly at choir where I tried my best to be as convincing a lip-syncher as possible.

Thurs March 4th - Hiked up to the Rhodes Memorial with Al-Pal, had a tasty tasty dinner at Cafe Ganesh and then grabbed a jembe and hammered out some rhythms with some rasta brothers and Jake before heading to a chill spoken word/poetry night.

Fri March 5th - Learned to surf at Muizenberg, lunch and book hunting with Jake, and then cooked Rosemary, Butternut Squash and Blue Cheese Risotto for Alex and Aly and co.

Sat March 6th - Took a bike and Wine tour to 3 vineyards and a brandy distillery with Aly, and then had goodbye drinks with everyone.  Perfect sendoff to a perfect week.

Sun March 7th - Flyout.

Anecdotes to come.  Needless to say, I had the time of my life and can’t wait to go back.  Who wants to come with?

winter break part 2

Where did I leave off - oh yes! With the coming of my mama!  2 hours after her scheduled arrival time (pesky snow in Amsterdam strikes againnn) Mama Dums waltzed out of the Jomo Kenyatta Airports sliding double doors and back into my life.  I think I’m always going to remember that moment - the second I saw her I felt like I was home.  We rushed home to find chapati on the stove and an extra matress in my room and pretended to sleep - we had to head back to the airport early early early the next morning to fly back to Zanz!  Of course, there was way too much to say - I refused to shut my eyes until i was was brimming with american stories and news from home.  Alarm went off WAY too early and we were off - kinda.  As a sort of this-is-africa introduction, there was no electricity at my house that morning (a precursor for the still-powerless Zanzibar) but we made our flight fine and took the world’s smallest plane to Stone Town, where we stayed in St. Monicas for the evening.

The next day I managed to trick mom into taking a dalla dalla (the openbacked truck things I talked about in our last post) which whisked us up to Kendwa in no time flat for the well-priced fare of less than a dollar. We went back to Kendwa Rocks, moved into our bungalow and spent the next 2 days lounging oceanside and taking it easy, which was good for mom (who was suffering from a bad case of the I-just-got-to-Africa stomach.)  Those days included a full body massage and a candlelight Christmas dinner on the beach - heaven.

On the 26th, we headed back to Stone Town (utilizing the much more dignified transportation of a taxi) where we hit up Forodhani more than once, (still soo good) indulged in many banana splits at the gelatoria, and did a little souvenir shopping.  The most memorable adventure was the Spice Tour - way back in the day some Asian traders brought all kinds of exotic-but-potentially-delicious plants to the island, and this has resulted in a booming trade in Zanzibarian nutmeg, curry powders and vanilla (to name just a few.) On the tour we got to see all these things you normally only find in powder form (nutmeg is STRANGE looking, let me tell you!) taste all kinds of wild fruits (anyone had jackfruit before?) and ended up hiking through caves to a beautiful beach, where we took a quick swim before heading back home.   Sitting out in that blue green-water and gazing back, i think  that craggy cave-filled shore overgrown with jungle-type plants might have been one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen - honest.

Also, I have to mention - that night, we stayed in the Zanzibar Coffee House Hotel, which I would highly recommend to any mother-daughter pair who happen to be addicted to java.  Having survived on lots of chai and a little nescafe for the past semester, not only was the food/coffee incredible (rooftop breakfast overlooking the city complete with museli and fresh passion juice - SO GOOD) but the rooms had character and, most importantly, air conditioning, which was a godsend in the 90+ degree heat.

Our day of spices and spiced coffee was our last in Zanzibar, and the next morning we headed to the ferry to go back to the mainland.  I was sad to see the island go - over the last two trips, the place had stolen ma heart. Despite the heat, I honestly think I could live there someday.  The food is incredible, the culture beautiful, and the arched doorways and winding streets completely mesmerizing.

The next few days were filled with travel, travel, travel - ferry to a cute hotel in Dar Es Salaam, wake up early to take a 10 hour bus to Arusha, then taxi to Le Jacaranda, our Tanzanian hotel nestled in the city’s “garden district.”  We chilled there for 1 night and the next morning met our safari guides - Juda (our guide) and Khalidi (our driver) who were going to take us to the town of Karatu and then early tomorrow to Ngorongoro Crater to see some elephants!  The drive was beautiful and uneventful - although Khalidi did insist on playing his ABBA’s Greatest Hits CD on repeat the entire 3 hours there (a trend that would actually continue anytime we were in his car - my GOD i was sick of Dancing Queen by the end) and before we knew it we were in Karatu, a town known pretty much exclusively as a kick-off point for Ngorongoro safaris.  We stayed at this incredible lodge named Eileen’s Trees Lodge (this is a shameless plug, by the by) that was upscale and full of good food and cold beer for very little money.  We woke early the next morning, (new years eve!) ate a quick breakfast and headed up the crater so that we’d be coming over the rim at sunrise.  Ngorongoro is beautiful - unlike the Mara, which was lion-filled but mostly brown, the crater contains a flamingo covered lake and lush, green scenery.  Watching the sun rise behind as we got our first glimpse was a sight I hope to never forget.

Next, we headed to the ranger’s station to pick up our guide. Our safari was actually a bit unusual - normally, trips to Ngorongoro are quite expensive due to a per-person entry fee and an additional $250 dollar vehicle fee for entering the crater.  However, because Molly Dancr gave me an incredible hookup, our trip coordinator Donatus Gadiye got the fees waved (which made the entire safari for the both of us cost LESS THAN $100 - epic!)  Instead of going down in a typical safari van, we ended up in a ranger-jeep with a ranger-guide who had full reign of the park.  After descending the crater, (which takes like an hour) any animal we saw was ours to meet - up close and personal.  Rangers, unlike safari vehicles, are not obliged to stay on the park roads, so our trip went like this “hey! there’s an elephant family! wanna see it close up? LETS GO.” and then we’d motor off to have a staring contest with a big mama elephant.  Many lions, rhinos, flamingos, cheetahs, hyenas, zebras and too many birds and baboons later, we were more than satisfied - what a dream safari it was!

The only downside is that my bad-camera-karma made an appearance, and we ran out of batteries pretty close to the beginning of the trip, so the majority of the photos are strictly mental.  However, I promise to upload what we do have from the safari and from Zanzibar soon soon soon - I’ll be back in Nairobi in a week!

After a super-gourmet lunch at the local Serena Lodge (for free - Don had another hookup) we piled back into Khalidi’s Mama-Mia-filled car and headed back to Arusha. We grabbed a bottle of champagne, ate a delicious dinner at Le Jacaranda (we did not order the special of the evening - sizzling warthog, but believe-you-me i sure thought about it) and made it til maybe 12:04 am TZ time (great success!) before hitting the sack.  The next morning it was back to Nairobi so mom could meet my host family, (the Ndegwas) I could go to class (barf) and we could do a little exploring (we saw some traditional dance and went to Karen Blixen’s house from the movie Out Of Africa - really cool stuff.)  And, on the night of the 4th it was back to the airport for a very tearfilled goodbye as mom headed back to the states and I headed back to my Jamhuri home.

Words cannot express what it meant to me having my mom here for the holidays. First of all, our trip was perfect -  not only did all the planning go off without a hitch (a rarity for africa, let me tell you) we also had an oceanside candlelight Christmas dinner AND a New Years Eve safari to boot - my god we’re lucky.  However, beyond that, the strength that seeing my mother gave me, coupled with the fact  that I was able to share this experience with someone I love so much was exactly the rejuvenation I needed before starting second semester. So many of the things I see here cannot be expressed through facebook message or email, and because of this trip my mom (one of the most important people in the world to me) can understand those complexities a little bit better.  Her willingness to try anything and her joy in life are so infectious - I can hardly imagine a better travel companion.  As I’ve gotten older, our mother-daughter relationship has taken a friendship turn, and I love the way our relationship has grown and changed.  My mother is one of the rocks that keep me stable and sane and happy, and having her her was the best present I can imagine. the very best.

Anyway, that’s enough sappy talk, and DEFINITELY enough info about my winter break.  if you, loyal blog reader, have made it through the above novel, I commend you and PROMISE future entries will be much more succinct AND timely.  Stay tuned for pictures of the trips though, as well as a little more information about my oh-so-delightful family here in Awasi - they’re on their way I promise!  In the meantime, I hope everything is going well stateside - as always, I’m sending much Kenyan love your way!

zanzibar (part 1)

WARNING: for those of you suffering from the subzero temps Wisco currently has to offer, this post may be a bit painful. It involves quite a bit of beaching and tank-top wearing and other warm-weather shenanaigans. Pole sana. If it’s any consolation, Christmas without snow doesn’t really seem real - and after sweating pretty much constantly for the past 5 months I’d trade just about anything for a snowball fight and that tingly feeling you get in your fingers when you come inside after a long winter walk…but i suppose for now 80s and sunny will have to do. :)

Anyway, this blog post is entirely centered around my winter break adventures, which, due to the wonderful people I have in my life, was near-perfect in every way. It started early with my friends Seth, James, Joe and I leaving our last week of class on Wed, Dec. 9th and using just about every means of transportation possible (overnight bus, ferry, matatu, tuk-tuk, bus, taxi, bus) to get to the small town of Pangani, which is fairly unknown except by people, like us, who hope to use it as a launching off location for sailing to Zanzibar. (eee!) That first night we camped on the beach and saw some incredible stars complete with meteors - a good omen for sureee.

The next day we woke early to catch the wind heading off the mainland and trekked down to the beach, where we were surprised to find a fairly-average-not-so-sail-y boat headed our way. At first we were quite upset - we wanted to SAIL to Zanzibar, not motor there, but we came around when we learned that actual sailing the distance takes 4 days…and our trip would only take 6 hours. So, we boarded the boat and set off! The first two hours were absolutely beautiful - every time the boat paused to pick something from the shore we would jump into the ever-beautiful waters of the indian ocean and swim swim swim…but then the weather took a turn and all of a sudden we were boating through quite the storm. My designated seat was right in the very very front (the prow?) of the boat and instead of moving back to the covered area joe and I decided to weather the weather under a piece of tarp, which was not very dry but had an extra-fascinating view. The storm was never so big as to be unsafe, but as the raindrops pelted the ocean surface it created an incredible optical illusion, and the whole experience was quite unreal, like something out of swiss family robinson or moby dick. Unfortuantely, I did get a tidge bit seasick, which joe assured me was pretty cool (and i assure really wasn’t) but besides that the journey went all kinds of smoothly. Our lil boat made the journey just fine, and before we knew it we had landed at Nungwi beach at the northern tip of Zanzibar Island.

There was one unfortunate casualty - our intrepid captain dropped my camera in the water RIGHT after landing and throughout the duration of the trip the little guy never recovered. Since then it’s been fixed, but therefore, I don’t have too many pics of Zanzibar Part 1 but i promise promise promise to upload the few I do have as soon as I get back to Nairobi!

Anyway, after landing we hopped down to Kendwa Rocks Hotel, a beautiful resort with bungalows perched on a hillside right next to a hammock-filled white sand beach. I think I wrote about this in my Mombasa post, but the Indian Ocean is this incredible blue-green color and WARM - essentially, it’s so delightful you never want to get out. We spent the next 2 days swimming, exploring, snorkeling, watching the epic sunsets and cooking (in the interest of saving money we bought a little jiko, some charcoal, a whole lotta veggies and rice and feasted on makeshift ratatouille every evening - nom nom nom. Apparently Kendwa doesn’t like you to self-cater, so we had to do this cooking on the sly, but the stealth-factor made it all the more exciting.)

After straight relaxing for a few days, the boys and took a dalla dalla (essentially a pick-up truck with benches in the back) down to Stone Town, where we stayed in St. Monicas, this beautiful old hostel with an islamic flair that’s most well known for it’s slave tour (Zanzibar was quite a slave trading hub until the missionaries said enough-of-that!) and cheap prices without too much of a sketch factor. We spent the rest of the day exploring town, checking out the Old Fort, hunting down Freddie Mercury’s house, and searching for cold beer. Apparently some wire/pipe/thing responsible for providing all the power to the whole island of Zanzibar burst while we were traveling, so the only way to get power was via generator. Zanzi is HOT - constantly-dripping-caliber-hot - so air conditioning wouldve been nice, but honestly, the lack of power added a throwback sort of feeling that really resonated with the beautiful Islamic architecture and old-world-feel. Stone Town is all twisted streets, beautifully carved doors and arched windows surrounded by beach and ocean - pretty damn close to paradise if you ask me.

And, as the proverbial cherry-on-top-o-the-sundae, right at the center of town next to the ocean is the incredibly beautiful Forodhani Gardens, a well-manicured park complete with epic playground that absolutely comes alive at night. Kids of all ages and races climb around the jungle-gym, an international medly that gives hope for a more understanding future, and, as the sun sets, a veritable herd of cooks (complete with double-breasted white coats and chefs hats) take the stage and being barbecuing oh-so-fresh seafood, zanzibarian pizzas, plantains, and coconut bread. Others crush sugarcane with lime and ginger to create a nectar that Seth fell quite a bit in love with (swear to god that boy drank close to a gallon each night) and fresh fruit is abundant. Even better, everything is cheap - we went every night we were in stone town and gorged ourselves for $4 tops. Illuminated only by candlelight, the city comes alive as people flock to the scene and mingle around the fountains and park benches. I was in love - with the food, the sense of community and the magic of the place, and I’m smiling just thinking of it now.

We spent two more day in Stone Town, during which the boys went on a Spice Tour (Zanzi produces quite a bit of nutmeg, curry and cloves) and I meandered around town to get my bearings - see, in just a few days my mom was visiting, and instead of taking her to oh-so-hectic Mombasa we had decided to come back to Zanzibar as the starting place for our tour of Tanzania. Since people pretty much only speak Swahili in all of TZ, and internet connections in East Africa are sketchy at best, the chance to plan my trip with my mom first hand was invaluable. With the boys we could wing things, stay in sketchy-but-cheap hostels and eat pretty much whatever - after 3 months in Africa we were used to that kind of thing. But traveling with your non-college aged mother is a whole different ball game, and I wanted our trip to be perfect. Since I had fallen in love with Zanzi, I couldn’t wait to show it to her, but I needed to make a plan first.

In any case, we closed out our trip with some more swimming, some ice cream eating (we found the most heavenly gelato place and, embarrassingly enough, hit it up 3 times in one day) and souvenir shopping before boarding the night ferry back to Dar Es Salaam. James, Seth and I are all yearsies, but Joe was only staying a semester and had to fly out on the 17th…and I needed to get back to Nairobi to finish up some school work and pick up my mom! So, as soon as the ferry docked James and Seth set out for some island hopping along the coast while Joe and I raced to the bus terminal and grabbed a 16 hour (ugh) bus back to Nairobi, leaving at around 9 and arriving, finally, around midnight. The ride was bumpy but beautiful - along the way we passed Mt. Meru and Kilimajaro, as well as the beautiful Usambara mountains. Tanzania is lush and green and beautiful, and the journey seemed like a sort of teaser trailer for the trip I was about to embark on with my mom. It also seemed like a sort of punctuation for the first leg of my study abroad experience - the semester was finally over, and my midnight goodbye to Joe was emblematic of my goodbyes to all the semester kids who made the first part of this trip absolutely unforgettable. When you do something as dramatically unfamiliar as coming to Africa, you learn just how important having a support network is, and my classmates had become my family here - and I hated that, like my other loved ones, there was now an ocean separating us. However, at the same time, I wasn’t anywhere close to ready to go home - and second semester offered the tempting proposition of learning even more about Kenya, East Africa, and most importantly, myself.

what a trip what a trip!

[god, i’m writing a novel here - I think i’ll post this bit, but just know that my winter break is far from over and that there’s more to come - sorry about making it all splitsies like this!]

met obama’s grandmama

Okay, blogski. It’s been MUCH too long and I have way too many words to ever fit in the next 20 minutes before dinner, so consider this a teaser trailer for the winter break post that is yet to come.  Instead, may I present the (much more managable) story of our weekend trip - off to Kogelo! To see obama’s grandmama! Yay america! And Kenya!

As I already attempted to document, weekends in Kisumu have traditionally been filled with matatu-ing away somewhere exotic.  However, with 2/3 of our classmates gone,  Cam, Seth and I (the 3 remaining students in Western Kenya) have decided to scale back our saturday and sunday commitments due to lack of time and study-abroad induced poverty.  Howevs, there are still a few things on the docket for this semester, and the one topping the list was a trip to Obama land.  Kenyans have a deep, abiding love for the current US president (not that I can blame them - my heart gets all aflutter at the mere sound of his oh-so-eloquent voice) due to his homeboy status.  In fact, many are quite sure that Mr. President was actually born here (that whole US-citizenship-from-birth being a carefully veiled hoax) and tell me at least once or twice a day that my job is to find an “obama of my own” and settle down instead of heading back to the states.  I heard this in Nairobi, but in Awasi, most people are Luo, which was the ethnic group of Barack Sr, and the barrage of obama related comments/pride is near overwhelming.  So, it wasn’t a question - before we left, we had to pop up to Kogelo (his ancestral home) and sit down with Sarah, Obama’s obliging grandmother.  So, this morning we, along with Cam’s host sister Grace (who we all absolutely adore) boarded a matatu headed to Siaya, and then double-dutch rode pikipikis (Kenyan motorcycles) up to the front gate of the Obama homestead.  There, we were met by a very official member of the Kenyan police, who’s primary job seemed to be to get us to sign the guest book before sending us up to meet Mrs. Obama herself, who was quite at home and would be setting out chairs for us shortly.

It’s fairly surreal meeting the grandmother of the president.  As we headed towards the large patch of shade cast by the trees in the compound, we stopped to investigate the headstones of Obamas of the past, including Barack Hussein Sr.  There was a vague sense of something epically historical and yet delightfully familiar about the whole place - from the small shamba (farm) that lined the property to the wicker chairs (with the inscription “yes we can!” across their top) to the obama bumper sticker set on the door, they hybridity made the property Kenyan and American at the same time, an ethnic blend I could identify quite strongly with.  And, when the distinguished mama herself joined us and hugged us each personally, I felt a deep pride to be a part of both these countries. With simple grace and exceptional hospitality, Sarah Obama made me feel completely at home, assuring us that had we come later we could have spent the night at her place and that in the future we were always welcome to stop by.  She regaled us with stories of Obama’s 3 visits, as well as quite a bit about his father and grandfather.  Her good cheer and infectious smile made the time fly, and before we knew it we had to head back to Kisumu.  I gave her a pineapple from Awasi, and we (Sarah, Seth, Cam, the pinapple and I) took a few pics and then we headed back home for the night.

After we left, I couldn’t stop smiling.  Although the visit was short, it was worth every minute.  After being here for 5 months, there are so many things about Kenya that I wish I could change - the culture of dependency, the debilitating ethnic tensions, and the tendency to eat cow stomach multiple times a week - to name a few.  And yet, the hospitality that I, a total outsider, have enjoyed here has been tremendous.  The ability of Kenyans to welcome anyone and everyone into their home and into their lives is beautiful, and the infectious joy and deep satisfaction with which so many here live their lives here are two things I’ve come to love. Sarah embodied both these traits for me.  There’s something to be said for having strong roots, and President Obama is blessed to have such a grandmama - with her boy at the helm, I cant help but feel these next 3 years are going to go very well. :)

weekending.

I’m really sorry blog. I know we’ve been growing more distant of late, and I want you to know its not you, it’s me. I do love updating you and stuff, but I’ve been busy lately.  Internship takes over ma days, family my weeknights, and the weekends? Well, if i’m honestly, I’ve been cheating on you with all the most exotic sights in Western Kenya. We’re going back a way, but if you want an explanation for where I was all those saturday/sundays, it’d look something like this:

Oct. 30-1st : First weekend in Awasi, trucked it over to Kisumu to see my friends. Refused to let the fact that I’m an ocean away from America stop me from celebrating halloween (i DO go to madison) so after visiting the Kisumu Impala Club where the impala run free, I convinced Joe to go with me to Harambee Market (the local farmers/clothing/everything you could ever want one-stop-shop) where we critically analyized each and every pumpkin we can find (all of which were a little smaller and greener than your typical american pumpkin, but would serve their purpose) finally ending on a cute lil guy with quite the stem that we named Julius (in honor of Tanzania.)  We headed back to Dunga beach (Joe lives like 30 feet from the shores of Lake Victoria) and with Marta we sat on the shore and carved him a face as we watched the sunset.  Right then, it was the perfect way to celebrate.

(I would also just like to say that explaining a jack-o-lantern to someone who’s never heard of Halloween before is quite a doozy.  See, people in Kenya generally EAT pumpkins, so us scooping out all the edibile parts, carving a goofy face and then asking if we can make it into a lil fire hazard seemed a little on the weird side.  Clearly, we Americans are weirdos.)

Nov 6-8: Kakamega!  This next weekend found me back in Kisumu for a little Ohangala (the local Luo music which sounds a lot like the music of Steve Zissou) and dancing on Friday night, followed by an early start Saturday as 5 of us headed up to the Kakamega Rainforest, which I think is the largest remaining forest in Kenya.  After taking a 2 hour matatu north we jumped on pikipiki (motorbikes) and ended up at the forest, where our cheap selves refused to get a guide and instead plunged into the woods all by ourselves.  A few observations:

1. Rainforests are not actually that rainy. In fact, most of the time the woods looked exactly like what you would find in Wisconsin.  However, considering that I love and miss Wisconsin woods, this is exactly what I wanted.  And of course there are wild and crazy trees that look like something out of fern gulley all around, and monkeys! 

2. Kenyans really arn’t that into maps, so even though we asked at the forest headquarters there was pretty much no way of knowing where we should go.  Although the morning was fun, after a lunch of supa loaf and pbs and jeebs we decided to bite the bullet an get a guide. Moses cost us each 200 kenyan shillings (roughly $3) and was well worth the price - not only did he know an incredible amount about trees, but he worked with researchers from Columbia University with their work on monkeys, and therefore took us to a spot where we were able to see upwards of 30 monkeys from less than 10 feet away.  I think it’s inately human to be fascinated by monkeys, and honestly, we all could have sat their for hours and watched them swing from tree to tree, but eventually we had to move on. Moses spent the rest of the afternoon communicating with the birds and showing us all the choice spots in the woods, so by the time we left we were tired, satisfied, and blown away by what we had seen.

Nov. 14-16:  Two weekends ago was big, as a group of us decided it was time to country hop over to Uganda for a little whitewater rafting on the Nile.  Former MSIDers had used the company Nile River Explorers, and though them we got a package that included food, drinks and guided rafting for the weekend for around $150. After 2 matatus and a few more passport stamps we found ourselves just outside of Jinja, Uganda at a campsite that had cold beer, western style food and a mindblowing view of the Nile itself. I found it really hard to comprehend the fact that that was THE nile - a river i’ve only heard about in relationship to the Egyptians and Moses and stuff, but there it was, taunting us with it’s whitecapped waves.  After a night in bunk beds we put on extra cool red lifevests, helmets, and gobs and gobs of sunscreen and we were off. I was in a raft with Joe, Seth, Marta, Nikki, Amanda and Geoffrey, our incredibly chill guide. We informed him early on that we wanted to be “extreme” so the first thing he did was teach us how to tip (which we did more than our fair share of, MOSTLY on purpose) but with his guidance we had the most INCREDIBLE day, navigating everythign from class 2 to class 5 rapids with ease.  Whenever there was a long calm stretch he’d tell us to jump in the water, and after a few forward flips we found ourselves swept down the river by the current.  There have been few days in my life that i’ve felt more adrenaline, laughed more, or felt more completely and entirely happy.  The scenery was beautiful, lunch was perfect (pineapples and cookies for the win) and our boat was significantly more accomplished and faster than my main MSID rival, Doug’s - I couldn’t have asked for anything more.  They made a video of the trip that I’ll have when i get back in the state (and can hopefully post on here someday for your viewing pleasure) but needless to say Doug might have summed it up when that night he proclaimed “that might just have been the best day of my life.” (and HE was the pokey-est raft on the riverrr.)  Weekend perfection to be sure.

Nov. 20-22:  Although I thought nothing could outdo rafting, these past few days defintely came close.  This weekend 6 of us decided to visit Mfangano Island, a large island in the middle of Lake Victoria where Martas friend Anika, a former MSIDer was staying and working.  It was one of those trips where the journey was almost as good as the destination (which was good because it was LONG!)  We left Kisumu at 8:30 and took a bus to Luanda, where we caught the ferry to Mbita and then took a small boat to the island itself.  I don’t know what we all did in the past to make everything work out so well, but the karma pot was extra-full and everything went smoothly (or at least, as smooth as transportation can BE in africa. The did throw a goat on the roof of the bus at one point and there was a chicken two seats down from me at one point, but you know, whatever.)  Hopefully I’ll put some picutres up soon, but the weather was PERFECT, not too hot and only slightly cloudy, and as we ate our pb and js atop all the foodstuffs the island would need (Mfangano has no cars, only 1 road and no shop larger than a kiosk) we looked out upon a horizon speckled with sailboats and green mountanous islands.  We pulled up to Kiwawi Beach after a good 5 or so hours of traveling and were met by Anika and Kelsey, the 2 American student who are currently working on building a community outreach center/counseling center for HIV/AIDS and helping out on the local WOOFing farm (an attraction that I was extra-dorkily excited about.)  We met Joel, the charismatic and incredibly kindhearted organic farmer who hosted us and donated the land for both the farm and the project, and spent our evening swimming in the lake while the sun set and cooking up spaghetti (we splurged on some parmesan cheese - best o my life for sureee) and then woke up the next morning and scaled the islands mountain-y peak, which was slippery and humid and BEAUTIFUL, offering increidble lake vistas and a taste of the life of the people who live and farm at the top of the bluff, a treat in and of itself. We left Sunday afternoon sunburned (only a little mom don’t worry!) content, and completely infatuated with the life of the Mfangano people.  Seth (my year-mate) and I want to go back for a week, and I cant wait to make the trip again - it was an unforgettable journey.

So you see blog, i’ve been busy is all.  Would you believe me if I said I promise to be better?  Because I really will try. I know I know, I owe you and internship update, need to fill you in on my new family and just my thoughts in general, and they’re COMING i swear.  Maybe after t-give? We’ve got a 8 kilo turkey and pumpkin pie in the works for Saturday night, and maybs a trip to Obammy’s homeland on Sundayyyy - - but soon. I swear.  And until I do get around to it, know that I think of and miss all you folks back in America CONSTANTLY, even when i’m weekending it up.  All the love in all of kenya!

awasi awasi awasi

Sorry about the delay between the last post and this one - lots has been going on a cyber cafes have been few and far between.  The biggest change by far has been my relocation - I now live in Awasi, a town 45 minutes outside of Kisumu in the western part of Kenya.  After having 6 weeks of class in Nairobi our group of 32 students was split in 4, with some kids going to the coast, some to central kenya, some staying in Nairobi for the duration and some coming with me to the western area. There are 10 total in our Kisumu group, although i’m the only one in Awasi. I was placed here based on my internship, which is with CREP Programme, a very cool organization dedicated to helping the community through increasing sustainable agriculture and food security in the region.  I wish I could post pictures, but essentially where I work Mon-Fri is this beautiful NGO neslted among sugarcane farms. The 3-acre compound has an office, a new, modest hostel and a “demo-farm” that grows various fruits and vegetables and serves as a teaching space for farmers in the community. The organization is multi-faceted, seeking to promote better farming practices, increase environmental conservation through reforestation and water conservation, assist people with HIV/AIDS by making sure they are food secure, and also increase the availability of micro-lending opportunities for the community. I myself have spent my first week mostly learning the ropes - I promise a more detailed post about my role later - but have at least started working the farm, visited a rural woman’s micro-lending group, and this wednesday get to travel with two co-workers to see if we can finance dairy goat for a group of orphans and grandmothers of people suffering from HIV.  It’s been interesting, eye-opening, and seems right up my alley - I’m excited to increase my involvement!

Although the internship is great, it pales in comparison to how much I’ve fallen in love with my new host family. I’m staying with Baba Ben, a retired policeman (who now owns a popular local restaurant that gives me free lunch) and Mama Ruth (the owner of the local cereals shop.) They’re both in their 60s but as spry and as lively as a pair of 20 yr olds - they love to laugh, dance and eat ugali.  They live in a compound (group of houses behind the same seafoam green gate) with their son Jared, daughter-in-law Elizabeth and THEIR three children, Mike (7) Wendy (3) and Junior (1 and a half.) Elizabeth and I have become fast friends -every day when I get back from CREP we walk to the market, talk and maybe cook together (unless i’m distracted playing with the kids.)  They have a house, Mama Ruth and Baba Ben have a house, and I have a house, (!) something i was certainly not expecting but which is working out really well. This family loves being with each other, so i’m constantly in the company of Ben or Elizabeth or the kids, but if I need to separate to go to bed, read or study (not that I find much time for that haha) I have a place of my own to go. We have electricity but not running water, although I do have a toilet and a warm bucket of water brought to me each morning for showers (so i really can’t complain.)  In traditional kenyan fashion, my new fam’s decided to fatten me up (i’m always being told ”put more! put more!”) so i’ve taken to running every morning, which, due to the incredible scenery I don’t mind in the least.  Awasi is surrounded by what i would call mountains (they say hills) that rise up indigo from the horizon. EVERYTHING is green (a welcome relief from the red dust of nairobi) and the sunsets are mindblowing. Temperatures are HOT but not unbearable, and they come down after it rains, and, since we are currently in the rainy season, this helps a lot. All in all, I’ve fallen in love with my new home and it’s only been a week.

That being said, it’s a totally different ball game being away from my classmates. I’ve come to adore and depend on the 32 kids I came here with from America, and it’s WEIRD being so isolated from them. Without peers going through the same experience, the homesickness hits HARD and I spend lots of shillings keeping updated on my friends new lives. I’m lucky - although my internship is rural, this weekend I took a 45 minute ride (that cost 80 cents) into Kisumu town and was reunited with everyone, which was GREAT. I’m not going to document the trip now, but highlights included carving pumpkins on the shore of lake victoria while watching the sunset (happy halloween everyone, by the way!) and going to the local reserve where impalas run free. Next weekend we’re planning a trip to the Kakamega Rainforest, and the anticipation is more than enough to keep those homesick moments at bay. Time continues to fly by - it’s only 5 more weeks until i”m back in Nairobi and the semester kids go home - and yet I’m experiencing so much. Constantly sending lots of love to everyone back home - miss you all, and jambo from awasi!

CHAKULA (FOOD)

As anyone who knows me well could probably guess, it was only a matter of time before I wrote about what we’re eating/cooking up here in Nairobi.  I can’t lie, I’ve had some very interesting culinary experiences since i’ve arrived, but for the most part my stomach’s been more than happy with the food here.  Hopefully sometime soon I’ll be able to illustrate the following descriptions with photos, but until then I’ll do my best to describe the tastes of Kenya with just words.

First of all, by far the most obvious difference between Kenya and America in terms of food (or more accurately, drink) is the addition of tea to just about every time of day.  As a former British colony, Kenya has quite the love affair with the steaming hot liquid, despite the fact that temperatures here are often in the 80s.  It’s my understanding that in England, however, tea time falls sometime around 3 in the afternoon. In Kenya, tea time is ANY time.  When I wake up, I find a steaming pot waiting for me on the breakfast bar downstairs. After our first class, we take a 10:30 tea break (lasting anywhere from 10-45 minutes, depending on how much we’re sticking to the loose kenyan idea of time) and then when I get home from school, I’ll be treated to at least 2 more cups before I doze off for the night.  Chai maziwa (chai with milk) is the norm, although one can substitute for various forms of powdered coffee/cadbury drinking chocolate if the mood strikes. Everyone makes a fairly similar cup o the stuff, whole milk (which comes out of a small plastic, cone shaped bag here) mixed with boiling water and tea leaves is standard, although  my mom also adds ginger and rosemary.  Next, it’s up to the drink-ee to decide exactly how much sugar to add (I used to be a 2 scooper but now am down to just 1) and how many slices of bread to have alongside. There are two types of bread here, white and brown, which can be topped with marmalade or blueband margarine (Millicent bluebands both sides of the bread when she’s making me tea - Kenyans seem to think you can never have too much margarine!)   Biscuits (read: cookies) are also acceptable tea sides, although quite dangerous - whole boxes will suddenly disappear if you’re not careful. I made Millicent teach me how to make tea the other day, but it’s good I’ve got 9 more months or so - amongst a country of tea drinkers, my chai making ability currently sits somewhere around the skill level of a Kenyan 3 year old.

If there’s something Kenyans love more than tea, however, it’s their food.  We were warned before coming that it’s a show of hospitality to feed your guests to bursting, and as semi-permanent guests we should get used to being constantly asked it we want more and more and more.  This is no problem for me - I’ve fallen in love with all sorts of uniquely Kenyan foods!

BRIEF CULTURE LESSON: Something I never knew about Kenya before I left was just how much tribal ethnicity plays into life here. Kenya is home to 42 ethnic groups (the major ones being Kikuyu and Luo) each of which has it’s own unique traditions, language, and traditional foods.  I’m currently staying with a Kikuyu (central Kenyan) family, which means that we eat a lot of githeri (beans and corn) and mokimo (green mashed potatos).  However, when I go to my internship I’ll be staying with Luos (who live on the coast of Lake Victoria) who eat ugali (a sticky cornmeal based substance that you mold into a spoon with your hands to scoop up whatever else is on your plate) and fish. Ethnic identity is not the only determinant of what you’ll eat - my Nairobi family loves ugali and has it at least twice a week, but it certainly plays a role.

Most Kenyan dinners go something like this - there’s some sort of starchy food, most commonly ugali, chapati (MY FAVORITE - a delicious round flatbread I can’t get enough of) or rice.  In my family, this is always paired with a stew (usually beef) and a vegetable, which could be cabbage (seasoned til it’s WAY too delicious) or sukumawiki (a shredded spinach or kale thing.)  We also eat a ton of fruit - the fact that bananas, pineapples and mangos are always in season is a godsend.  My lunch today consisted of peanut butter and bananas and a choco-banana milkshake on the balc and I couldn’t have been more content.

I adore all the foods i”ve been served thus far by my Kenyan family.  However, I consider myself lucky - some of my classmates have been on a much more extreme culinary rollercoaster. Marta was given some porridge to drink (yes, they drink porridge here, and also think it’s silly to do anything but drink yogurt) that was oatmeal seasoned with fish, and my friend Jake was treated to a pile of food spiked with chicken feet. As a matter of fact, the boys in our group are today buying and killing their own goat with our teacher Simon to make nyama choma, the tantilizing roasted meat that we’ve all come to love.  They’re excited about dinner but nervous about the process - no one was particularly excited about having to do the dirty deed!

In many ways, the boys trip today did get me thinking about food systems in Kenya in comparison to America. As opposed to the distant, hands off system of food production in America, the entire process of food production here in Kenya runs much closer to home, an aspect of life I love.  I buy fruit produced an hour away from the Jamhuri fruit stands, and our locally raised Maasai cows become the beef that’s served to me each night. It was because of this local connection that I was willing to give up my 5-year standing vegetarianism/veganism and move back to carnivory.  However, this local connection to food is is a double edged sword - although it makes me, a environmentally conscious eater feel good, it also means that due to extreme drought here in kenya, millions are starving.  Environmental degredation due to deforestation, overpopulation and overuse of the land has made Kenya, a formerly food self-sufficent country now dependent on food aid. As food prices have risen due to a global food crisis, many can no longer afford to feed their families.

It is this process that makes me so excited to start my internship.  I have one more week of school here in Nairobi, after which I head to Kisumu, a western town on the shores of Lake Victoria where I will be working with CREPE, a community based organization that focuses on sustainable agriculture and food systems.  I’ll be working with local farmers to make sure they’re keeping the land healthy while also producing good, sustainable harvests, making sure the region has stable food security.  My internship also focuses on community development and even touches on HIV/AIDS, because there are people in these communities who may have access to medication but don’t have a steady food source and therefore cannot stay healthy and productive. The whole thing seems almost impossibly tailored to my interests, and I can’t wait to get started. And, of course, when I do, I’ll be sure to keep you posted. However, right now I’ve gotta go - surprise surprise, it’s tea time and I’m not about to miss it!