Cosmas, one of the workers with Action for Cheetahs in Kenya, gave me directions to their house/office. I spent the day packing everything up and heading on my way. Though it isn’t far out of the city, I had to take two different matatus and, since the traffic is awful, it took 2.5 hours! I told the guy on the bus that I needed to go to the Mountain View stop and he said he would show me where to get off. However, at the end of the line, he asked, AGAIN and realized he forgot about me, hah. Oh, well. Cosmas picked me up at the gas station and we walked to their office/house, which is in a gated community. They have two dogs. Ginger and Bahate (in Kiswahili, his name means “good luck”) and they were so excited to see us! It’s nice to be around dogs that actually have a home and are trained! Cosmas shoed me around and told me a bit about the project. Basically, Mary (originally from Michigan, yeah Midwest!) started a branch of the Cheetah Conservation Fund in Kenya in 2002. They mapped all of the roads in the country and surveyed them all, meanwhile conducting interviews concerning livestock lost by predators. They Cheetahs are endangered due to poachers; people are poor and they want the meat. Plus, the cheetahs are losing their habitat due to human settlers. Mary, Maike, and Floris were all out in the bush cheetah trapping for the past ten days and showed up at around six in the evening. They freshened up and we all went out to a nice Indian restaurant to eat. The food was amazing! Quite a nice change from the steady diet of instant noodles and drinking yogurt I’ve been consuming.
The next day, I went for a brisk walk/run around the area and then Maike (a German woman volunteering who is on sabbatical from her event planning career—formerly an environmental scientist) and I went to the Sarit center, which is a nice mall in the Westlands area. We went to the cyber café and then chatted for a while over coffee. She went to look for a computer while I sat reading her Lonely Planet. I read a little about my upcoming marathon and got a bit nervous. A man near me said I looked deep in though and I showed him what I was thinking about. He and his friend are from Canada and are Hashers ( an international drinking group with a running problem); they invited me to join them the following Monday and then I could hopefully meet other people who would be running the marathon and even possibly catch a ride—horray! Maike and I wondered around another mall, with yet another cup of coffee before heading back. We had a little family dinner that night of stir fry and champagne☺
I went back to Nairobi for a couple days because I couldn’t afford $15 a day. The money clearly goes to keeping the Cheetah fund up and running, but I am just not in a monetary place, at the moment, to do that for too many days. I went back on Monday so that I could go with everyone into the Camp in Salama. On the way, I got in the matatu that was supposed to go to Mt. View. I asked the driver and he said that was where they were going; they proceeded to charge me an extra ten shillings and then the van did NOT got all the way. The guy who took my money and lied to me bolted at the stop as a bunch of cab drivers tried to harass me to get into their cab. I made the rare mistake of getting all huffy and cussing (which I’ve gotten a lot better at NOT doing) which, of course, only made them laugh at me. Finally, however, the guy stopped trying to get me to blow a bunch of money on his cab and brought me to another matatu that would bring me to the right spot.
After arriving at the house, Maike and I had a meeting with Wallace about the puppedt presentation we’d be doing at a local school about the Cheetahs. Basically, the presentation was going to start with a questionnaire to see what the kids already knew and then we’d do a skit with a story incorporating puppets, have a lecture/discussion, and then give them the quiz again. After, this I really had the day to do what I wanted and went back to the Sarit Center to use the net; I also bought Barrack Obama’s book “Dreams from my Father.” I veg’d out that night watching the worst movie, possibly ever, “Nacho Libre.” We were supposed to go up to the camp the next day, but due to some car troubles, it was postponed, so Maike and I went to the Kenya National Museum. It displays the history of the nation, including the animals (large mammal exhibit), and impressive collection of stuffed local birds, an exhibit on rock art and the top floor is all about the people and its culture. It had displays on the clothing, weapons, coming of age rituals, and body decorations (beaded jewelry, ear plugs) etc. It was all very interesting to see how cultures have evolved, where they have incorporated Western influences (such as using glass/plastic beads instead of shells and seeds) as well as what they have retained. When we arrived, I tried to get a student discount, but they don’t offer one. Insetad, the guy said he would charge us as citizens; I joked about passing as a Kenyan, though he clearly didn’t pick up on my sarcasm he somberly informed me that he was giving us a break…oh, um…sorry, thanks.
The next day Maike, Cosmas and I headed up to the Salama camp. The roads are awful; I think I should start wearing a sports bar whenever we get into a car. Alsong the way, we got some supplies at the Nakumatt,. As we got out of the car, I pointed out to Cosmas that his fly was down. “Don’t worry,” he said, “it’s only the envelope.” HAH. The funnier part was when we got inside and we passed the stationary section maike said, “Oh, here are the envelopes!” Cosmas and I burst out laughing; Maike clearly hadn’t heard the conversation clearly. I went on a search for some new hair ties but the workers kept pointing me to the weaves. I’m sorry, none of these will blend in! Finally I found a couple by the cash register and we were off again.
The camp is on a divided farm plot where they have a fenced area with a small brick building as a kitchen. There’s an open area with a fire pit and three large tents with actual beds inside, tin roofs over the top, as well as two drop toilets and open air “showers” (or rather, a space to bring a bucket to rinse yourself). We sat around, chatting and reading over dinner and headed off to bed. It’s pitch black out on the countryside; the stars here are absolutely insane, I don’t think I’ve seen a sky like this since I was in New Zealand.
I went for a run/brisk walk along the orange dirt rods in the morning; then, Maike , Wallace and I headed to the Kiima Kiu primary school for our presentation. They had a total of about ninety kids in grades five through seven in one room, all in maroon sweaters over green shirts and green shorts—maybe half of the kids wore shoes. Their teaching style is very interesting in that the kids repeat an important (usually last) word of the sentence. Ex. Prof: “ I’m here to teach you about cheetahs. About?” Class: “Cheetahs!” This makes sure they’re all playing attention and I’m sure it helps them with learning English, as well. Anyway, after they filled out the questionnaire, we brought out the puppets and the kids went NUTS. They all started screaming and jumping around in excitement like when someone wins a car on the Price is Right. Though they probably didn’t absorb much of the story because they were too fascinated and interested in our little show. Plus, I think the kids were more interested in staring at the Muzungus; a couple of the girls in the front kept giving us the thumbs up, trying to get our attention. At the end, they all started whistling and clapping in unison; then, we were surrounded by kids touching us. They were all fascinated by my hair,, stroking and lifting it; it was fine at first, but as they got more excited there was a bit more pulling and I had to tie it up—you can touch it, just as long as I can still take it home with me! They surrounded us as we left and chased after our car, waving the whole way.
When we got back to the camp, we hung out with some of the scouts, Jimmy, Lamumba and Sam. Sam is HILLARIOUS. They were all telling us the differences between some of the local tribes. Sam’s tribe, the Luos, LOVE chicken. He was saying that, as kids, they were so excited when visitors came, not because someone new was around, but because they then could slaughter and eat a check. They would get upset when no one would come because they couldn’t eat the meat. He’s so expressive; he has a mouth full of big white teeth and when he laughs it’s so contagious that even if you don’t know what he said, you have to laugh along. Cosmas also told us about a darker side of Kenya, the Mungeeki (sp?). This is like the Kenyan Mafia; it originally started because they wanted to separate from Westernization and go back to tradition. They’d beat women for wearing trousers, for example. Now, they basically control every home and business, forcing people to pay exra to them for their homes and matatus, their produce sales and roadside services. If they don’t pay, there will be disastrous consequences. A woman’s matatu was burned, people die, they’re run off the road, decapitated and dismembered—it’s not pretty and quite dangerous for the locals in the areas where this group rules.
The net morning they had a scout meeting to discuss their progress with accumulating data on local conflicts, interviews, areas they still needed to cover, questions that needed to be more thorough, etc. It was quite interesting, but I clearly had nothing to contribute because I didn’t know the area or much bout what they’ve already accomplished.
Maike, Wallace and I then went to another school for a presentation. These kids were much more well-behaved. Maike and I had to shake practically all 80 little hands, Again, a mass of uniformed children (blue and yellow uniforms this time) followed us out to the car and waved goodbye.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Hakuna Matata
I’ve been stuck in the Nairobi area for two weeks, because I didn’t want to go too far away from the race area incase of transportation troubles. Also, I wanted to be able to train (which I have not been doing, fail on my part). Anyway, after lounging around and spending time with other travelers, I decided to actually be productive and see some things. I spent a day near the Nairobi National Park; first I went to the Giraffe Center. Everyone tries to get you to take cabs here and there, but I refused and got on the bus; it may be a bit slower but all the buses and matatus maybe cost me a dollar in total whereas the cabs would have been probably around twenty after all is said and done with.
There really isn’t that much to do at the Giraffe Center besides wonder around a tree house looking at student artwork and learning facts about Giraffes. Also, you can feed the animals if they come up to the platform. You are given a handful of pellets which looks a bit like rabbit food, and you feed them one by one. The one is was feeding was named Daisy; she had a very long tongue and her saliva is extremely slimy, leaving long gooey strands hanging between her mouths and my fingers. You can also get “giraffe kisses” by putting a long piece of food between your lips and letting the giraffe take it out; which left my face all gooey, but it was funny. Also, if you put a handful of pellets at their mouth, you can pet them and even hug them; but watch out once the food is gone because they try and head-butt you. “No food, No Friend!”
After that, I walked back to the bus stop, which is a three kilometer walk each way down a semi-deserted roach through a beautiful forest area, lined with bushes and flowers. The dirt here is this incredible orange/rust color that contrasts beautifully with the green surroundings and bright blue sky. I took the bus to the Animal Orphanage, which is just inside the Nairobi National Park gates. As soon as I walked in, a group of school children were gawking at the muzungo. One man tried to be my guide, but I immediately shot him down; thanks, but no thanks. Two girls then came up to me and started asking questions. I thought they were trying to interview me about my travels, but at the end they just said they wanted to say “hi” because they admired me☺
The orphanage is like a small zoo; all the animals had been abandoned as babies due to poachers. While walking, I ended up talking to a young Kenyan woman, Emma, about the leopard that was making itself vomit in front of us (hah). She was there with her Mother, Jane, and her two-year-old daughter. I ended up wondering around the park with them, looking at cheetahs, leopards, lions, all types of monkeys, a mongoose, warthogs, hyenas, a crocodile and tons of birds. It was like being in “The Lion King.” We were there at the perfect time, because they are only fed once a day. The food barrows come out at 2:30; at this time, the animals start going nuts, pacing back and forth in front of the gate—they know what time it is. Two deer like animals, herbivores, were fed with carrots and beans, but when they zookeeper walked away, the two free roaming monkeys from the Nature Walk nearby snuck over and stole some of the food. They’re quite intelligent animals, though, they knew exactly who to hide from. The same guy also fed the cheetahs huge pieces of meat. He’s been feeding them since they were cubs, so they listened when he said, “up and jumped up on a wooden platform, waiting to be thrown their food. He was only a few feet away when he tossed them their grub and there was no aggression from the animals; they’re quite tame. One lion, however, was throwing a fit and laid down in the corner, growling. Emma growled back at him and he’d actually respond in order for us to get a few good pictures. At the last cage, the warthogs, Emma’s daughter wanted to take photos. I let her grab my camera and she just host away. Her grandmother basically had to wrestle my camera from her and switch it with Emma’s. Before she wrestled it away, she did get a good (read: hideous) close-up shot of me as well as a very focused shot of a warthog’s behind. Warthogs, btw, are quite odd looking creatures; they look like piggies but have tusks and long straw-like fur that looks more like strategically placed hair plugs because it is not a full coat. . They also kneel down on their front legs when eating (carrots and corn OFF of the cob) and have long nails on their hooves. When we walked out, I had to wait for my change from buying the ticket while the other three were going on to the nature walk. They wanted me to join, but I said I was headed back, so Emma invited me to come stay with her and her family for a night for a free bed and food when I hike Mt. Kenya. I guess, since so many people took her in when she was in California, she felt she could and should do the same here in Kenya, which I am extremely appreciative for! It took Emmas daughter about five minutes to finally go; she just stood in the walkway staring at me, waving and yelling “Come on, Kelly!” It was so cute. I actually received an e mail from emma a few days later saying that her little girl talked about me all day ☺
After that, I headed home and chatted with Richard for a bit; the poor guy is stuck in Nairobi because he got a rare parasite and has to keep going to the hospital to get scoped shoved up his bum to make sure all the eggs that were laid )from the two inch worm they pulled out) have died. All this occurs with a bunch of medical students in the room because this parasite has never been seen in Kenya. So awkward. I then gathered up my stuff so I could go spend time with “Action for Cheetahs in Kenya!”
There really isn’t that much to do at the Giraffe Center besides wonder around a tree house looking at student artwork and learning facts about Giraffes. Also, you can feed the animals if they come up to the platform. You are given a handful of pellets which looks a bit like rabbit food, and you feed them one by one. The one is was feeding was named Daisy; she had a very long tongue and her saliva is extremely slimy, leaving long gooey strands hanging between her mouths and my fingers. You can also get “giraffe kisses” by putting a long piece of food between your lips and letting the giraffe take it out; which left my face all gooey, but it was funny. Also, if you put a handful of pellets at their mouth, you can pet them and even hug them; but watch out once the food is gone because they try and head-butt you. “No food, No Friend!”
After that, I walked back to the bus stop, which is a three kilometer walk each way down a semi-deserted roach through a beautiful forest area, lined with bushes and flowers. The dirt here is this incredible orange/rust color that contrasts beautifully with the green surroundings and bright blue sky. I took the bus to the Animal Orphanage, which is just inside the Nairobi National Park gates. As soon as I walked in, a group of school children were gawking at the muzungo. One man tried to be my guide, but I immediately shot him down; thanks, but no thanks. Two girls then came up to me and started asking questions. I thought they were trying to interview me about my travels, but at the end they just said they wanted to say “hi” because they admired me☺
The orphanage is like a small zoo; all the animals had been abandoned as babies due to poachers. While walking, I ended up talking to a young Kenyan woman, Emma, about the leopard that was making itself vomit in front of us (hah). She was there with her Mother, Jane, and her two-year-old daughter. I ended up wondering around the park with them, looking at cheetahs, leopards, lions, all types of monkeys, a mongoose, warthogs, hyenas, a crocodile and tons of birds. It was like being in “The Lion King.” We were there at the perfect time, because they are only fed once a day. The food barrows come out at 2:30; at this time, the animals start going nuts, pacing back and forth in front of the gate—they know what time it is. Two deer like animals, herbivores, were fed with carrots and beans, but when they zookeeper walked away, the two free roaming monkeys from the Nature Walk nearby snuck over and stole some of the food. They’re quite intelligent animals, though, they knew exactly who to hide from. The same guy also fed the cheetahs huge pieces of meat. He’s been feeding them since they were cubs, so they listened when he said, “up and jumped up on a wooden platform, waiting to be thrown their food. He was only a few feet away when he tossed them their grub and there was no aggression from the animals; they’re quite tame. One lion, however, was throwing a fit and laid down in the corner, growling. Emma growled back at him and he’d actually respond in order for us to get a few good pictures. At the last cage, the warthogs, Emma’s daughter wanted to take photos. I let her grab my camera and she just host away. Her grandmother basically had to wrestle my camera from her and switch it with Emma’s. Before she wrestled it away, she did get a good (read: hideous) close-up shot of me as well as a very focused shot of a warthog’s behind. Warthogs, btw, are quite odd looking creatures; they look like piggies but have tusks and long straw-like fur that looks more like strategically placed hair plugs because it is not a full coat. . They also kneel down on their front legs when eating (carrots and corn OFF of the cob) and have long nails on their hooves. When we walked out, I had to wait for my change from buying the ticket while the other three were going on to the nature walk. They wanted me to join, but I said I was headed back, so Emma invited me to come stay with her and her family for a night for a free bed and food when I hike Mt. Kenya. I guess, since so many people took her in when she was in California, she felt she could and should do the same here in Kenya, which I am extremely appreciative for! It took Emmas daughter about five minutes to finally go; she just stood in the walkway staring at me, waving and yelling “Come on, Kelly!” It was so cute. I actually received an e mail from emma a few days later saying that her little girl talked about me all day ☺
After that, I headed home and chatted with Richard for a bit; the poor guy is stuck in Nairobi because he got a rare parasite and has to keep going to the hospital to get scoped shoved up his bum to make sure all the eggs that were laid )from the two inch worm they pulled out) have died. All this occurs with a bunch of medical students in the room because this parasite has never been seen in Kenya. So awkward. I then gathered up my stuff so I could go spend time with “Action for Cheetahs in Kenya!”
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Jambo!
I boarded my Ethiopian airlines flight to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, which was a 10 hour flight (without a personal movie screen, by the way, not a fan of this airline). I had only one visual entertainment option, which was the second worst movie they could have ever played aside from a plane crash flick. I don’t know what the movie was called, but it was basically about two 19 year old American girls who went backpacking around Europe; when they arrived in France they shared a cab with another boy who said he was traveling, as well, but turned out to be a mob spotter and the two girls were kidnapped and sold into prostitution. Awesome. I never even THOUGHT about something like that happening; thank you for adding this fear at the end of my trip. I’ve shared cabs with random backpackers along the way and haven’t had a problem, but now that idea is in my head so there will probably be no more of that unless I know they were on my plane. Ugh, fools.
Anyway, who hours later, I’m on my two hour flight to Nairobi. On the plane, I met two amazing people, a woman from MN who works for Operation Smile and a gentleman from New Zealand who works with World Vision in Sudan. Their lives are amazing and awe inspiring; they basically travel around the world saving lives; how much more fulfilling could your career/life be? Anyway, I dropped my stuff off after meeting the Manager, Ken, of the Bush House and Camp (my 7 dollar a night hostel on a gated property right outside of the Nairobi city center) and sat down to use the Internet when I met two guys, Vlad from Canada, and Ludwig from Germany. They were on their way to meet a young Kenyan college student to couch surf and I invited myself along, as travelers do.
We took a cab to the Kenyata Conference Center, which is a good place to go to get a view of the city. We had to wait for an hour before Oscar arrived, being that traffic here gets nuts around three. We then got in a Matatu, a local short bus for public transportation that’s basically a party van playing music videos with massive base levels and are decorated with images of hip hop singers and rappers. They also drive like maniacs, swerving between cars, accelerating quickly, and stopping too rapidly and closely to the cars in front of them. I was sitting shotgun, so I had a front row seat for the entertainment, the highlight being our near collision where we literally missed a car by a few inches. Since the jam was so bad, our driver decided to cruise up on the shoulder and then, with one tire on the top of a plank with a deep ditch in between the other tire which was cruising along the curb—like a vehicular tight rope act. We got to Oscar’s apartment in Meatland (I’m assuming that that’s what the area is called because there was a big sign outside with this written on it) and hung out there for a few hours with his cousins. We went around the market buying food and then he cooked a beef stew with ugali (like stiff mashed potatoes but made out of maize flour, like what I helped make in Thailand with the runners) which is all eaten with your hands. We also watched Kenya’s version of “So You Think You Can Dance?” called, “Can U Dance?” where they had a tribal challenge. This was interesting to watch the indigenous dances with their brightly colored, printed attire and expressive contractive movements. After, Oscar's cousin drove me back to the hostel and everyone else went out to a club. They tried to get me to come along, but I was so tired, having been awake for about 38 hours, smelly and greasy. I wasn't in the mood to be a spectacle; the only female Mazungo (whitey) in the room--no, no, no, not tonight.
I passed out until noon the next day and felt magical. I went into town because I was supposed to meet with Vlad and Ludwig to do some sight seeing, but there were cell phone issues, so I went to a grocery store for a while to find a snack. I then sat on a bench with my instant noodles to people watch when I met John, a 25 year old Kenyan. He started talking to me, telling me how his parents had died in a car accident two years ago and he works with flowers while his older brother works at the Hyatt Regency in Dubai and his sister in another hotel in Nairobi. He suggested a few things for me to do in the city and, since I had time to kill, brought me to the Sunday market. There they sell all hand made crafts, carved animals, paintings, jewelry, etc. They heckle a lot and it's more difficult to say no here than anywhere else because they reach you on a more humanitarian level rather than looking at you like an ATM. Luckily, John was there to get everyone to leave me alone. After, he brought me to the Cooperative Bank where there was a terrorist attack in August 2006; no a memorial park stands in is place. I never got ahold of Vlad so I went to a cyber cafe for a while. I had to ask directions from a group of people on how to get to Nakumut Lifestyle, which is a 24 hour shopping center with a grocery story and a cyber cafe, as well as other things. They were trying to figure out how to explain to me how to get there when the older man said he'd take me. Now, in India, whenever someone is "being nice" they want a tip. I'm really not in a financial place for this, so I said that I'd be ok. The woman then says, "Let him take you! He's not going to rob you! He's a born again Christian!" Ok, ok, ah, I'm sorry. He was very sweet but spent the entire walk talking about God and asking me about my relationship with Jesus. Um....I don't know. It's difficult to be honest here, that I'm pretty agnostic and basically find organized religion to be complete nonsense--man has flaws, humans can be selfish, and, I feel, that a lot of these religious texts have been translated to satisfy someone's agenda. Saying this to an preacher was...well...probably not my smartest move because it just inspired a more heated discussion. Luckily, the shopping mart was close by so once we arrived he shook my hand, said "God Bless," and let me on my merry way.
When I got back to the hostel, I met three cool Dutch girls, Cami, Dani, and Mari, who had been working in Uganda. Dani and Cami were leaving the next day and Mari came for a boot call...lol. Anyway, they were on their way out to dinner and invited me along. We went to a nice restaurant called Carnivore, where you paid maybe 20 dollars to get soup, salad, bread, a baked potato, and unlimited meat that they walk around carving off of skewers fresh off the grill. This included sausage, lamb, chicken wings and legs, ribs, beef, ostrich meat balls and crocodile--afterwards, dessert! It was amazing and we were all stuffed. However, the only downfall of the night was our cab ride to the restaurant. They had been using the same taxi driver and though he was reliable. On the way we were in the far right lane on a highway; a bus put on his blinker to merge and the driver, Simon, tried to speed up and pass until one of the girls yelled at him to watch out. The, the same thing happened with a SEMI-TRUCK! We were literally almost crushed because median consisted of a tall curb and a steep hill. All four of us yelled out, which is saying something since we're all used to, and rarely phased by, terrible driving and bad traffic. After, he almost ran over two trafic cones and a strip of nails. Needless to say, we didn't call him to pick us back up.
The next day, I tried to go for a run but failed due to an intense amount of traffic (pedestrian and vehicular). I went with Mari into town to try and find a money exchange and a Lonely Planet book, but we both failed, so we sat and had a drink until she got on her bus back to Uganda. I headed home and said goodbye to Dani and Cami, hopefully we'll all stay in contact on Facebook. Especially because Dani has a friend at Nike who might be interested in me (fingers crossed) and Mari has a lot of film friends. Plus, Mari and I got along really well and we had some interesting discussions concerning religion and philosophy.
I spent some more time wondering around the city the next day. I typed up my blog (here ya go!) and found a company that I can hopefully use to Hike Mt. Kenya. I was going into multiple shops to see where I could find the best prices when I accidentally entered the wrong building and a man stopped me and showed me where to actually go. I thought he was working for the company, but he had actually trailed me and must have been some sort of guide. I only found this out when I was leaving and he asked me if I wanted to see somewhere else. When I said no he agreed, saying that the last place I was wasn't very informative and I probably won't get a better price. Creepy. An odd way to go about it via Western standards, but the people here are generally very friendly and helpful. They love taking to the Mazungu, welcoming me to their country and loving that I'm from "Obama Country!!"
FOOD CORNER
Mabuyu- This is like a dried fruit with a pit in the middle and is coated with a sugar/pepper powder. I seem to be the only one who enjoys this food. It's a bit sweet and chalky w/ a spicy after taste once you've eaten a handful. I tried to offer it to some of the Kenyan women at the hostel, but they laughed at me.
Ostrich Meat Balls- Light grey in color, tastes a bit like pork (not chicken).
Crocodile- Light colored meat and very tender. The texture is a cross between chicken and fish and there are a lot of bones. It was quite salty, but this could have been due to how it was cooked.
Anyway, who hours later, I’m on my two hour flight to Nairobi. On the plane, I met two amazing people, a woman from MN who works for Operation Smile and a gentleman from New Zealand who works with World Vision in Sudan. Their lives are amazing and awe inspiring; they basically travel around the world saving lives; how much more fulfilling could your career/life be? Anyway, I dropped my stuff off after meeting the Manager, Ken, of the Bush House and Camp (my 7 dollar a night hostel on a gated property right outside of the Nairobi city center) and sat down to use the Internet when I met two guys, Vlad from Canada, and Ludwig from Germany. They were on their way to meet a young Kenyan college student to couch surf and I invited myself along, as travelers do.
We took a cab to the Kenyata Conference Center, which is a good place to go to get a view of the city. We had to wait for an hour before Oscar arrived, being that traffic here gets nuts around three. We then got in a Matatu, a local short bus for public transportation that’s basically a party van playing music videos with massive base levels and are decorated with images of hip hop singers and rappers. They also drive like maniacs, swerving between cars, accelerating quickly, and stopping too rapidly and closely to the cars in front of them. I was sitting shotgun, so I had a front row seat for the entertainment, the highlight being our near collision where we literally missed a car by a few inches. Since the jam was so bad, our driver decided to cruise up on the shoulder and then, with one tire on the top of a plank with a deep ditch in between the other tire which was cruising along the curb—like a vehicular tight rope act. We got to Oscar’s apartment in Meatland (I’m assuming that that’s what the area is called because there was a big sign outside with this written on it) and hung out there for a few hours with his cousins. We went around the market buying food and then he cooked a beef stew with ugali (like stiff mashed potatoes but made out of maize flour, like what I helped make in Thailand with the runners) which is all eaten with your hands. We also watched Kenya’s version of “So You Think You Can Dance?” called, “Can U Dance?” where they had a tribal challenge. This was interesting to watch the indigenous dances with their brightly colored, printed attire and expressive contractive movements. After, Oscar's cousin drove me back to the hostel and everyone else went out to a club. They tried to get me to come along, but I was so tired, having been awake for about 38 hours, smelly and greasy. I wasn't in the mood to be a spectacle; the only female Mazungo (whitey) in the room--no, no, no, not tonight.
I passed out until noon the next day and felt magical. I went into town because I was supposed to meet with Vlad and Ludwig to do some sight seeing, but there were cell phone issues, so I went to a grocery store for a while to find a snack. I then sat on a bench with my instant noodles to people watch when I met John, a 25 year old Kenyan. He started talking to me, telling me how his parents had died in a car accident two years ago and he works with flowers while his older brother works at the Hyatt Regency in Dubai and his sister in another hotel in Nairobi. He suggested a few things for me to do in the city and, since I had time to kill, brought me to the Sunday market. There they sell all hand made crafts, carved animals, paintings, jewelry, etc. They heckle a lot and it's more difficult to say no here than anywhere else because they reach you on a more humanitarian level rather than looking at you like an ATM. Luckily, John was there to get everyone to leave me alone. After, he brought me to the Cooperative Bank where there was a terrorist attack in August 2006; no a memorial park stands in is place. I never got ahold of Vlad so I went to a cyber cafe for a while. I had to ask directions from a group of people on how to get to Nakumut Lifestyle, which is a 24 hour shopping center with a grocery story and a cyber cafe, as well as other things. They were trying to figure out how to explain to me how to get there when the older man said he'd take me. Now, in India, whenever someone is "being nice" they want a tip. I'm really not in a financial place for this, so I said that I'd be ok. The woman then says, "Let him take you! He's not going to rob you! He's a born again Christian!" Ok, ok, ah, I'm sorry. He was very sweet but spent the entire walk talking about God and asking me about my relationship with Jesus. Um....I don't know. It's difficult to be honest here, that I'm pretty agnostic and basically find organized religion to be complete nonsense--man has flaws, humans can be selfish, and, I feel, that a lot of these religious texts have been translated to satisfy someone's agenda. Saying this to an preacher was...well...probably not my smartest move because it just inspired a more heated discussion. Luckily, the shopping mart was close by so once we arrived he shook my hand, said "God Bless," and let me on my merry way.
When I got back to the hostel, I met three cool Dutch girls, Cami, Dani, and Mari, who had been working in Uganda. Dani and Cami were leaving the next day and Mari came for a boot call...lol. Anyway, they were on their way out to dinner and invited me along. We went to a nice restaurant called Carnivore, where you paid maybe 20 dollars to get soup, salad, bread, a baked potato, and unlimited meat that they walk around carving off of skewers fresh off the grill. This included sausage, lamb, chicken wings and legs, ribs, beef, ostrich meat balls and crocodile--afterwards, dessert! It was amazing and we were all stuffed. However, the only downfall of the night was our cab ride to the restaurant. They had been using the same taxi driver and though he was reliable. On the way we were in the far right lane on a highway; a bus put on his blinker to merge and the driver, Simon, tried to speed up and pass until one of the girls yelled at him to watch out. The, the same thing happened with a SEMI-TRUCK! We were literally almost crushed because median consisted of a tall curb and a steep hill. All four of us yelled out, which is saying something since we're all used to, and rarely phased by, terrible driving and bad traffic. After, he almost ran over two trafic cones and a strip of nails. Needless to say, we didn't call him to pick us back up.
The next day, I tried to go for a run but failed due to an intense amount of traffic (pedestrian and vehicular). I went with Mari into town to try and find a money exchange and a Lonely Planet book, but we both failed, so we sat and had a drink until she got on her bus back to Uganda. I headed home and said goodbye to Dani and Cami, hopefully we'll all stay in contact on Facebook. Especially because Dani has a friend at Nike who might be interested in me (fingers crossed) and Mari has a lot of film friends. Plus, Mari and I got along really well and we had some interesting discussions concerning religion and philosophy.
I spent some more time wondering around the city the next day. I typed up my blog (here ya go!) and found a company that I can hopefully use to Hike Mt. Kenya. I was going into multiple shops to see where I could find the best prices when I accidentally entered the wrong building and a man stopped me and showed me where to actually go. I thought he was working for the company, but he had actually trailed me and must have been some sort of guide. I only found this out when I was leaving and he asked me if I wanted to see somewhere else. When I said no he agreed, saying that the last place I was wasn't very informative and I probably won't get a better price. Creepy. An odd way to go about it via Western standards, but the people here are generally very friendly and helpful. They love taking to the Mazungu, welcoming me to their country and loving that I'm from "Obama Country!!"
FOOD CORNER
Mabuyu- This is like a dried fruit with a pit in the middle and is coated with a sugar/pepper powder. I seem to be the only one who enjoys this food. It's a bit sweet and chalky w/ a spicy after taste once you've eaten a handful. I tried to offer it to some of the Kenyan women at the hostel, but they laughed at me.
Ostrich Meat Balls- Light grey in color, tastes a bit like pork (not chicken).
Crocodile- Light colored meat and very tender. The texture is a cross between chicken and fish and there are a lot of bones. It was quite salty, but this could have been due to how it was cooked.
Hej-dor, Sweden
I headed back to Uppsala and went with Krister to see the opening of "Terminator Salvation;" it wasn’t that good, I mean, Christain Bail doesn’t even walk around with his shirt off, which is clearly the point of seeing the movie. Then, we met up with his friends and drank for a while before heading to a bar—I was having a good time, but was freezing, so finally called it a night. The next day was gross and rainy, again, so I went to the gym and that was about the extent of my productivity. My flight was at 9 pm on the 5th of June, so I spent the day packing up my things. I left at five and, half way to the strain station, I realized my camera was still in Krister’s apartment. I had already put my key in his mail box, so I had to go to his work and have someone get me his key, go back and find my camera, then drop off his key and jet to the station. I missed the train by a minute and the next wasn’t for a half-hour. However, my debit card randomly wasn’t working, so I had to go to the ATM; the machine in the station wasn’t working so I had to run back to the city center, take out money there, then rush back, making it with eight minutes to spare—this is all with my massive rucksack on my back and my small (yet painfully heavy) daypack on my front, as well as my purse filled with books on my shoulder, Kelly=sweaty mess. However, there were no problems at the airport and I still had plenty of time. Two hours until my final continent/country of this adventure, Kenya!
Stockholm Marathon 2009
The day before the race, I headed into Stockholm via the train to go pick up my registration packet and then I went back to Uppsala. I then headed out of the city to Gamla Uppsala, which is where there are massive grave mounds throughout prairies and trees and just beautiful nature to walk around in, as well as a church/graveyard. I also spent the entire day carbo-loading…my favorite holiday. I use the day before a race as an excuse to eat everything I normally don’t; this included ice cream, a massive falafel wrap, McDonald’s fries, and cookies, among other things. After wandering around Gamla Uppsala for a few hours, I met up with Krister and some of his buddies for a BBQ before heading to bed since I wanted to be well rested for the race I was painfully unprepared for!
The race was on the 30th of May with a starting time of 2 pm. I had plenty of time to get ready. I left Krister’s at about ten so I could be on the 11 am train into Stockholm. I saw a few other runners, but the mentality is really odd; even in countries where little English is spoken, when you see someone else with a bib or racing bag, you acknowledge each other. Here, no one gives a damn; after a number of people cold-shouldered my warm smile, I gave up. Anyway, I made my way to the 1912 Olympic Stadium, consuming two double espresso shots along the way, making sure I was good and hyped up for the race.
They were giving out bananas and energy drinks, as well as water in the starting area. I dropped off my bags, chugged my Red Bull and went to the bathroom three times before it was time to move onto the course. I met a man from PA that now lives in Germany and we chatted for a while; he was the only US citizen I saw (each bib had a flag with the runner’s country on it and the majority were Swedes). The temperature was a steamy 28 degrees Celsius (88 degrees Fahrenheit) at the start, so I was sweating in the shade waiting to begin. The course was a two loop path around Stockholm, starting and ending at the stadium and passing through parks, over a beautiful (yet steep) bridge, past the Royal Palace, Museums, beautiful buildings and along the water. The city is gorgeous and so was the weather, so it wasn’t too difficult to be entertained. Luckily, there was a lot of shade and plenty of sprinklers to run through, so the heat wasn’t too bad. There were also lots of water/sports drink stands (about every 2.5k or 1.8 miles) so I got my fill of re-hydration. They were also giving out candy, power bars, bananas and pickles, of all things. I understand the point is to get sodium back into your body, but the smell was repulsive, so I stayed on the other side of the course trying not to slip on the abandoned gherkins.
I saw Krister and his buddies cheering for me at Kilometer 34; they’d been drinking in the park all day (jealous). I told him that I would be supremely unhappy if I saw him before k35 and, luckily, he listened. He ran with me for a few minutes trying to pump me up because I was definitely starting to feel the burn. At 2 hours and eight minutes I had been lapped by the Kenyan winner (four minutes from the end of my first lap) My finish time was four hours 57 minutes and 53 seconds, which is my third worst time ever, but exactly where I thought I’d be. I literally only had two weeks of training where I never ran more than 9 miles, I was on a treadmill, and each time I incorporated walking breaks, so I was pretty pleased with the finish. I just made a play list of pumped up tunes and pretended like it was a five hour dance party where I was trolling for hotties ☺.
I laid in the grass for a while, then met up with Krister and we went to his friend, Christopher’s, apartment where they cooked spaghetti for dinner and we watched some mindless TV/YouTube before heading off to the bars. I was struggling to walk, but we went to a few places and then took the metro out to Stockholm University where there was some sort of music festival going on. We sat around drinking/chatting/watching until four am and then headed back to the metro. While waiting, this massive group of 13 year olds came in; apparently, there was a party going on which we weren’t invited to. I feel so old saying this, but I cannot BELIEVE what those girls were wearing (or rather, weren’t wearing)!! One girl had shorts on so small you could see her butt cheeks, a t-shirt tied under her non-existent chest, and F-me pumps , strutting up and down the platform sucking on a lollipop…disgusting. We got back to Christopher’s (he was kind enough to let us crash in his living room) when it was light out, of course, and we all passed out until noon.
Krister went back home and I moved to a hostel for a few days (yeah, the one where I had to pay for sheets, so weak). I didn’t do too much since I could hardly move, so I wondered around Gamla Stans eating everything in sight. I was sitting outside of an ice cream shop contemplating if 6:30 was too early to go to bed when I met Bahast and Christine; two 22 year-old Swedes. Both were very nice and very chatty, having done some traveling themselves (generally, the Swedes are pretty cold towards strangers and don’t just strike up a conversation on the street or randomly say hello, like I do). I ended up going w/ Bahast to his place and helping him cook his roommate dinner, then going to see Angels and Demons with him and his friend, Jakob. Now, a lot of the men here are pretty metro and it's difficult to distinguish those with good (or at least, some type) of fashion sense and those who prefer the male anatomy. I'm pretty sure he was gay, his desire for anything pink and fuchsia was more intense than a five year old girl, but then again, I have no idea.
The next day I walked, slowly, for about eight hours. I wanted to rent a bike and wonder around town but it was 30 dollars for the day! That’s insane and painfully out of my budget at this point. I took myself to Djurgarden and to the Vasa Ship Museum. Then, I walked around the park for a while and went to Skanska, which is this recreation of old-time Stockholm. People play the parts of the townspeople; I wondered into a farmhouse and a girl was just knitting in a rocking chair—what a job! I shouldn’t talk, though, because who knows what type of employment I’ll be finding once I come back to the states! After all this, I took a nap and then met up with Bahast for a few drinks and people watching until I decided I was still way too tired and exhausted and went home. The next few days were rainy ; I spent one more night in Stockholm in hopes of better weather in order to take a boat trip around the Archipelago, but no luck, so I headed back to Uppsala so I wouldn’t break the bank anymore. Plus, Stockholm looks a lot like Boston, so it just made me homesick since I looked like home but I had no friends and no funds.
The race was on the 30th of May with a starting time of 2 pm. I had plenty of time to get ready. I left Krister’s at about ten so I could be on the 11 am train into Stockholm. I saw a few other runners, but the mentality is really odd; even in countries where little English is spoken, when you see someone else with a bib or racing bag, you acknowledge each other. Here, no one gives a damn; after a number of people cold-shouldered my warm smile, I gave up. Anyway, I made my way to the 1912 Olympic Stadium, consuming two double espresso shots along the way, making sure I was good and hyped up for the race.
They were giving out bananas and energy drinks, as well as water in the starting area. I dropped off my bags, chugged my Red Bull and went to the bathroom three times before it was time to move onto the course. I met a man from PA that now lives in Germany and we chatted for a while; he was the only US citizen I saw (each bib had a flag with the runner’s country on it and the majority were Swedes). The temperature was a steamy 28 degrees Celsius (88 degrees Fahrenheit) at the start, so I was sweating in the shade waiting to begin. The course was a two loop path around Stockholm, starting and ending at the stadium and passing through parks, over a beautiful (yet steep) bridge, past the Royal Palace, Museums, beautiful buildings and along the water. The city is gorgeous and so was the weather, so it wasn’t too difficult to be entertained. Luckily, there was a lot of shade and plenty of sprinklers to run through, so the heat wasn’t too bad. There were also lots of water/sports drink stands (about every 2.5k or 1.8 miles) so I got my fill of re-hydration. They were also giving out candy, power bars, bananas and pickles, of all things. I understand the point is to get sodium back into your body, but the smell was repulsive, so I stayed on the other side of the course trying not to slip on the abandoned gherkins.
I saw Krister and his buddies cheering for me at Kilometer 34; they’d been drinking in the park all day (jealous). I told him that I would be supremely unhappy if I saw him before k35 and, luckily, he listened. He ran with me for a few minutes trying to pump me up because I was definitely starting to feel the burn. At 2 hours and eight minutes I had been lapped by the Kenyan winner (four minutes from the end of my first lap) My finish time was four hours 57 minutes and 53 seconds, which is my third worst time ever, but exactly where I thought I’d be. I literally only had two weeks of training where I never ran more than 9 miles, I was on a treadmill, and each time I incorporated walking breaks, so I was pretty pleased with the finish. I just made a play list of pumped up tunes and pretended like it was a five hour dance party where I was trolling for hotties ☺.
I laid in the grass for a while, then met up with Krister and we went to his friend, Christopher’s, apartment where they cooked spaghetti for dinner and we watched some mindless TV/YouTube before heading off to the bars. I was struggling to walk, but we went to a few places and then took the metro out to Stockholm University where there was some sort of music festival going on. We sat around drinking/chatting/watching until four am and then headed back to the metro. While waiting, this massive group of 13 year olds came in; apparently, there was a party going on which we weren’t invited to. I feel so old saying this, but I cannot BELIEVE what those girls were wearing (or rather, weren’t wearing)!! One girl had shorts on so small you could see her butt cheeks, a t-shirt tied under her non-existent chest, and F-me pumps , strutting up and down the platform sucking on a lollipop…disgusting. We got back to Christopher’s (he was kind enough to let us crash in his living room) when it was light out, of course, and we all passed out until noon.
Krister went back home and I moved to a hostel for a few days (yeah, the one where I had to pay for sheets, so weak). I didn’t do too much since I could hardly move, so I wondered around Gamla Stans eating everything in sight. I was sitting outside of an ice cream shop contemplating if 6:30 was too early to go to bed when I met Bahast and Christine; two 22 year-old Swedes. Both were very nice and very chatty, having done some traveling themselves (generally, the Swedes are pretty cold towards strangers and don’t just strike up a conversation on the street or randomly say hello, like I do). I ended up going w/ Bahast to his place and helping him cook his roommate dinner, then going to see Angels and Demons with him and his friend, Jakob. Now, a lot of the men here are pretty metro and it's difficult to distinguish those with good (or at least, some type) of fashion sense and those who prefer the male anatomy. I'm pretty sure he was gay, his desire for anything pink and fuchsia was more intense than a five year old girl, but then again, I have no idea.
The next day I walked, slowly, for about eight hours. I wanted to rent a bike and wonder around town but it was 30 dollars for the day! That’s insane and painfully out of my budget at this point. I took myself to Djurgarden and to the Vasa Ship Museum. Then, I walked around the park for a while and went to Skanska, which is this recreation of old-time Stockholm. People play the parts of the townspeople; I wondered into a farmhouse and a girl was just knitting in a rocking chair—what a job! I shouldn’t talk, though, because who knows what type of employment I’ll be finding once I come back to the states! After all this, I took a nap and then met up with Bahast for a few drinks and people watching until I decided I was still way too tired and exhausted and went home. The next few days were rainy ; I spent one more night in Stockholm in hopes of better weather in order to take a boat trip around the Archipelago, but no luck, so I headed back to Uppsala so I wouldn’t break the bank anymore. Plus, Stockholm looks a lot like Boston, so it just made me homesick since I looked like home but I had no friends and no funds.
Random Uppsala
Over the next couple days, I decided to do a little more sight seeing around Uppsala. I had already visited the Botanical and all it’s wondrous cacti, so I spent the next day checking out the shopping streets, getting lost, wondering along the water, looking at statues and buildings and the infamous Domkyrkan—a beautiful Gothic cathedral from the 16th century (photos on the flickr page). I was basically enjoying being able to walk around and not get any attention; no one was looking at me, trying to sell me things, just being plain creepy--I was completely safe and it couldn't have felt better.
The next night, Krister had to work, so he gave me his phone number list if I wanted to call any of his friends to go out. I texted his friend Ben, whom I had met the night before and is from Chicago because A) I desperately wanted to hang out with Native English speakers and B) thought he was cute☺. So I’m a little superficial, don’t judge! We flirted a bit via text for a while and then I met up with him at eight for a drink and his friend Alex came, as well (a SUPER adorable, pocket sized Swedish girl). We also met up with Matt, who is Canadian, and went to Krister’s bar but the line was out of control, so we decided on an impromptu pub crawl—the fun ended at around one.
The next night, Krister and I met up with Ben, Matt and a few of his other friends to watch the Soccer Finals at a bar. Unfortunately the crowd was nuts, so we decided to go to Matt’s phenomenally huge and well-decorated apartment to have our own party. We ate pizza, Krister and Ben shot-gunned a beer (which I haven’t seen done in ages, amateurs), and we all did some tequila shots before heading out to another bar to meet their Irish friend. I threw in the towel early, but Krister stayed out quite late and the next morning I his jeans were soaked in the entryway with his money, phone, and keys strewn about…no clue what happened. Clearly, he had a better night than I did, lol.
The next night, Krister had to work, so he gave me his phone number list if I wanted to call any of his friends to go out. I texted his friend Ben, whom I had met the night before and is from Chicago because A) I desperately wanted to hang out with Native English speakers and B) thought he was cute☺. So I’m a little superficial, don’t judge! We flirted a bit via text for a while and then I met up with him at eight for a drink and his friend Alex came, as well (a SUPER adorable, pocket sized Swedish girl). We also met up with Matt, who is Canadian, and went to Krister’s bar but the line was out of control, so we decided on an impromptu pub crawl—the fun ended at around one.
The next night, Krister and I met up with Ben, Matt and a few of his other friends to watch the Soccer Finals at a bar. Unfortunately the crowd was nuts, so we decided to go to Matt’s phenomenally huge and well-decorated apartment to have our own party. We ate pizza, Krister and Ben shot-gunned a beer (which I haven’t seen done in ages, amateurs), and we all did some tequila shots before heading out to another bar to meet their Irish friend. I threw in the towel early, but Krister stayed out quite late and the next morning I his jeans were soaked in the entryway with his money, phone, and keys strewn about…no clue what happened. Clearly, he had a better night than I did, lol.
Fancy Pants
I spent one day going into Stockholm to get my Kenya visa. This took maybe fifteen minutes. It was the most pleasant, hassle free international logistical experience I’ve had. I’m pretty sure I filled out the card incorrectly, they didn’t even check for my vaccinations or my flights, and my photos were taken a half hour earlier in a photo booth in the metro station and looked like mug shots. Since it took no time at all, I decided to go on the Lonely Planet’s walking tour of central Stockholm Unfortunately, it was raining but I trucked on, regardless. I went down Klarabergsgatan which is a main big name shopping street. There was a food festival going on, which would have been amazing if I didn’t have to, somehow, fit into the bridesmaid dress from my brother's wedding two years ago, the next day. Instead of being ecstatic, I was being tortured by the sights and smells of sausages, fine cheese, piles of fudge and other tents full of goodies and needed to remove myself as quickly as possible. I decided to wonder around in Urban Outfitters, a little reminder of home, when my favorite and only pair of flip flops broke. I’ve been wearing these things for at least four years, so I knew it was coming. I had to buy some ugly black slip-ons that hardly fit because I have monster feet. Anyway, I left there because I couldn’t even afford the sales rack and wondered along Kungstradgarden , which is a park where people lay out and ice skate in the winter. Along the way is Sankt Jakobs Kyrka (St. Jacob’s Church) where I sat and listened to part of an organ concert. There are plenty of old building and statues to awe at along the way, well, in the entire city, actually.
Stockholm is made up of a few islands; I crossed over the Riksbron bridge to the Island of the Holy Spirit which has two massive stone buildings and cobble stone streets that belong to the two parts of Stockholm’s parliament building. Over the Stallbron Bridge is Stadsholmen, which is the “medieval core of Stockholm,” where the city’s oldest buildings and Cathedral Storykyrkan stand near the Royal Palace. Here, you are in the area of Gamla Stans, which contains narrow, windy streets full of shops, art galleries, cafes, and restaurants as well as Den Gyldene Fueller—serving food since 1722! After all of this walking, and not to mention being soaked, it was time to head back to Uppsala and get some beauty rest before tomorrow’s fancy ball!!
Krister’s Nation, Varmlands, has a fancy ball every year called Vorball. Fancy as in, tuxes with tails and floor-length gowns, a four course meal and all night partying☺ I woke up early to go for a run, my last ditch effort in hopes of making the dress fit properly. I went upstairs and go ready with krister’s female friends, Elin and Meriam (who is actually from Minnesota) and a few other girls. They were gracious enough to help with my hair and make up being that I have no beauty products with me and am not the best at dolling myself up. Around four, it was time to face the music and put on the dress—success!!!! I had no trouble fitting into it; the no sugar/bread diet for two weeks really works (but not for long term effects, unfortunately). Then, it was time to get our drink on! We went downstairs to meet everyone for a drink then headed to the Nation for appetizers and a pre-dinner champagne beverage, as well as mingling. After, we sat down for a three-course meal. They sit in ten to twenty person tables arranged boy-girl-boy-girl etc. First course was a cheese/thistle soup…clearly, no one’s favorite. We also received beer, wine and shots of Snapps along the way. The Snapps tasted like “peppermint death” as I liked to call it. The Swedes are really into their singing, everyone has a song book and throughout the evening there are speakers and songs. After each song, you hold your shot and cheers to the left, the right, across drink and back again; each time making sure to make eye contact (the saying goes that if you don’t make eye contact you will be cursed with seven years of bad…um,...relations…yeah… relations); this is quite the easy way to get plastered. Krister kept warning me to pace myself; I was the one that had no problem with this. He, well…it’s Krister and he does what he does, hah.
The Main course was potatoes and smoked salmon and there was dessert, as well, which was accompanied with coffee with Bailey’s, cognac, and some sort of drunk punch. I have no idea how I succeeded in scoring all three, but hooray for me☺
After, it was time for the dance. There’s a room with an orchestra where everyone was Waltzing. I had lost everyone at this point and stood along the wall watching and reminiscing of my good ol’ violinist days. Watching was fine with me because, though we YouTubed directions, I wasn’t sure if I really could Waltz in my slightly inebriated state (or stone-cold sober for that matter). Some guy awkwardly tried to ask me to dance but I blew him off; not really in the mood for creeping strangers. I found Elin and we sat outside for a while, then found the real club. I don’t know where the time went, but suddenly it was after three, so we headed to another bar/club. Krister had gone home at this point; not long after I got the worst case of heartburn I’ve ever had (damn pizza) and had to excuse myself to head back. The entire next day was spent eating cereal, chips, and ice cream while watching Grey’s Anatomy (making up for lost carb/sugar time☺ ) until I wasn’t hung-over anymore. A fantastic introduction to the Swedish culture!
Stockholm is made up of a few islands; I crossed over the Riksbron bridge to the Island of the Holy Spirit which has two massive stone buildings and cobble stone streets that belong to the two parts of Stockholm’s parliament building. Over the Stallbron Bridge is Stadsholmen, which is the “medieval core of Stockholm,” where the city’s oldest buildings and Cathedral Storykyrkan stand near the Royal Palace. Here, you are in the area of Gamla Stans, which contains narrow, windy streets full of shops, art galleries, cafes, and restaurants as well as Den Gyldene Fueller—serving food since 1722! After all of this walking, and not to mention being soaked, it was time to head back to Uppsala and get some beauty rest before tomorrow’s fancy ball!!
Krister’s Nation, Varmlands, has a fancy ball every year called Vorball. Fancy as in, tuxes with tails and floor-length gowns, a four course meal and all night partying☺ I woke up early to go for a run, my last ditch effort in hopes of making the dress fit properly. I went upstairs and go ready with krister’s female friends, Elin and Meriam (who is actually from Minnesota) and a few other girls. They were gracious enough to help with my hair and make up being that I have no beauty products with me and am not the best at dolling myself up. Around four, it was time to face the music and put on the dress—success!!!! I had no trouble fitting into it; the no sugar/bread diet for two weeks really works (but not for long term effects, unfortunately). Then, it was time to get our drink on! We went downstairs to meet everyone for a drink then headed to the Nation for appetizers and a pre-dinner champagne beverage, as well as mingling. After, we sat down for a three-course meal. They sit in ten to twenty person tables arranged boy-girl-boy-girl etc. First course was a cheese/thistle soup…clearly, no one’s favorite. We also received beer, wine and shots of Snapps along the way. The Snapps tasted like “peppermint death” as I liked to call it. The Swedes are really into their singing, everyone has a song book and throughout the evening there are speakers and songs. After each song, you hold your shot and cheers to the left, the right, across drink and back again; each time making sure to make eye contact (the saying goes that if you don’t make eye contact you will be cursed with seven years of bad…um,...relations…yeah… relations); this is quite the easy way to get plastered. Krister kept warning me to pace myself; I was the one that had no problem with this. He, well…it’s Krister and he does what he does, hah.
The Main course was potatoes and smoked salmon and there was dessert, as well, which was accompanied with coffee with Bailey’s, cognac, and some sort of drunk punch. I have no idea how I succeeded in scoring all three, but hooray for me☺
After, it was time for the dance. There’s a room with an orchestra where everyone was Waltzing. I had lost everyone at this point and stood along the wall watching and reminiscing of my good ol’ violinist days. Watching was fine with me because, though we YouTubed directions, I wasn’t sure if I really could Waltz in my slightly inebriated state (or stone-cold sober for that matter). Some guy awkwardly tried to ask me to dance but I blew him off; not really in the mood for creeping strangers. I found Elin and we sat outside for a while, then found the real club. I don’t know where the time went, but suddenly it was after three, so we headed to another bar/club. Krister had gone home at this point; not long after I got the worst case of heartburn I’ve ever had (damn pizza) and had to excuse myself to head back. The entire next day was spent eating cereal, chips, and ice cream while watching Grey’s Anatomy (making up for lost carb/sugar time☺ ) until I wasn’t hung-over anymore. A fantastic introduction to the Swedish culture!
Stockholm Syndrome
Talk about reverse culture shock! I got off the plane in Stockholm and everything was sooooooo quiet. A few people were sitting in leather airport chairs, waiting for their plane inside glass-walled gate areas--that was it. I felt like my breathing was too loud! Not too many people flew from Mumbai to Stockholm, so the luggage coral wasn’t crowded; no one was pushing or yelling or screaming or haggling. Order. ahhhh. I purchased a bus ticket to bring me to Uppsala, which was ON TIME to the minute--no waiting for more passengers to fill the bus, oh sweet, sweet organization. The bus was perfectly clean, no one spoke a word the entire 25-minute bus ride to Uppsala. I realized it was 9:30pm and still light out, and the sunset went on forever! It was bizarre coming here after five months in Asia; looking around, all I could see was a perfectly tarred highway running along bright green pastures and forest area, well preserved buildings, flowers, cut grass, and cobblestone paths (not crumbling stone walkways). Pedestrians actually have the right of way and aren’t vehicular targets. There were no people walking in the middle of the road with their fists shoved up their noses or hawking loogies, no random animals/people relieving themselves chaotically, no trash, no cars honking! The silence was literally deafening—I was so confused!
Krister, a good friend of mine from High school who is working on his Masters at Uppsala University, met me at the bus stop and walked me through the little cobble stone town to his apartment. A narrow river runs through the city center and a significant amount of people walk or rides a bike for transportation (there are actually a ridiculous number of bikes throughout Sweden, the only place I’ve ever seen more was in Tokyo). The first thing I did when we got into his apartment was drink water straight from the tap and then roll around on the ground (not joking or exaggerating; Krister can confirm this) I was so excited and grateful to be in a country that entertains these liberties. It’s difficult to realize how lucky we are to have so many amenities and luxuries at our fingertips when they’re stripped away and your left w/ a dirty squatter and a little bucket of water to “wipe” with. First thing he did was bust out the boxed wine and start cooking while we caught up on each other’s lives since we hadn’t seen one another in about six years. We sat up talking, drinking almost an entire 3-liter (4 bottle) box of wine, and eating until five in the morning. At this point, I had pretty much been awake for 48 hours, so it was time to get some much-needed shuteye.
To be completely honest, my time in Sweden was pretty low-key. The country is painfully expensive; for example, the cheapest hostel I found was 25 dollars a night and I had to pay for SHEETS; I find it astounding that the poorest of countries give you your own bathroom, clean(ish) sheets, a personal room and sometimes a TV, when the better-off countries won’t even provide the necessities…and btw sleeping bags aren’t allowed, what backpacker has the luggage space to carry around sheets????? So, being that I was over eight months into my trip at this point, the funds were just not available to tour around the country. I spent most of my time at Krister’s; he was gracious enough to let me sleep on his couch and cook me food (quite the cook I might add—some of the best meals I’ve had in a while); I usually did the dishes as an attempt at repayment. I was really pretty lazy, which was quite a necessary change from the hectic on-the-go lifestyle I had been living for the past eight months. We watched movies and went out. He is quite the partier, so he brought me around to meet his friends and we went to different Nations to drink and dance. Nations are kind of like frats except everyone joins one of them and they're not as...well... childish . They have bars where you can drink cheaply if you have a student card. The first night we went out, they introduced me to Fish, which is this clear shot that tastes like Jaeger (vomit) however, I played champion and took them as long as they kept coming. We went to another bar after that and ended up back home probably around four am. It’s ALWAYS light out here. I’m used to being up around 6:30, going for a run and enjoying a full day, but here, the sun sets at about 9:30/10 but isn’t dark until midnight (if you even want to call that dark) and the sun rises at 3:30, so it starts to get light again around two, making it easy to go out all night and not realize what you’ve done.
After that night, I decided that I shouldn’t be drinking too much and start getting myself running and training for the race. I kept going out, but generally stayed sober. We also went to his friend’s place to watch Eurovision. Hilarious. It’s kind of like American Idol but the performers are all professional and from each European country; they are all competing for the highest score. Honestly, the costumes were ridiculous and the performers were overly dramatic, but it was highly entertaining. I suggest YouTubing this immediately.
Looking around the streets of Sweden, the people are exactly what you’d expect, Beautiful. Krister told me that I was probably going to be very average compared to everyone else (thanks, jerk); they all look like your stereotypical Barbie beauties; tall, thin, blonde hair, blue eyed and stunning. I wonder how you make people this pretty or if they’re aliens—maybe they’re manufactured? Anyway, I also found a gym to work out at, though I had to pay ten dollars a day (ouch), but it was highly necessary because I was completely out of shape for the upcoming marathon due to the inability to do consistent running in India; I only had two weeks to train for it! Krister was writing a paper for the first two weeks and occasionally going to class, so I spent most of my time wondering around the city. I went into an interesting cemetery, which was more like a Zen garden, and to the nearby botanical garden in the first few days. Mostly, I was enjoying the foreign concept of returning to the same place and not actually living out of a suitcase (he gave me two shelves to unpack my few belongings onto; what a host!). Though I appreciated the change; it made me homesick, desiring a career, my own bed, all my friends, the bartender that knows how to make me a Kettle/soda just the way I like it…what’s the word? Oh, Stability.
Krister, a good friend of mine from High school who is working on his Masters at Uppsala University, met me at the bus stop and walked me through the little cobble stone town to his apartment. A narrow river runs through the city center and a significant amount of people walk or rides a bike for transportation (there are actually a ridiculous number of bikes throughout Sweden, the only place I’ve ever seen more was in Tokyo). The first thing I did when we got into his apartment was drink water straight from the tap and then roll around on the ground (not joking or exaggerating; Krister can confirm this) I was so excited and grateful to be in a country that entertains these liberties. It’s difficult to realize how lucky we are to have so many amenities and luxuries at our fingertips when they’re stripped away and your left w/ a dirty squatter and a little bucket of water to “wipe” with. First thing he did was bust out the boxed wine and start cooking while we caught up on each other’s lives since we hadn’t seen one another in about six years. We sat up talking, drinking almost an entire 3-liter (4 bottle) box of wine, and eating until five in the morning. At this point, I had pretty much been awake for 48 hours, so it was time to get some much-needed shuteye.
To be completely honest, my time in Sweden was pretty low-key. The country is painfully expensive; for example, the cheapest hostel I found was 25 dollars a night and I had to pay for SHEETS; I find it astounding that the poorest of countries give you your own bathroom, clean(ish) sheets, a personal room and sometimes a TV, when the better-off countries won’t even provide the necessities…and btw sleeping bags aren’t allowed, what backpacker has the luggage space to carry around sheets????? So, being that I was over eight months into my trip at this point, the funds were just not available to tour around the country. I spent most of my time at Krister’s; he was gracious enough to let me sleep on his couch and cook me food (quite the cook I might add—some of the best meals I’ve had in a while); I usually did the dishes as an attempt at repayment. I was really pretty lazy, which was quite a necessary change from the hectic on-the-go lifestyle I had been living for the past eight months. We watched movies and went out. He is quite the partier, so he brought me around to meet his friends and we went to different Nations to drink and dance. Nations are kind of like frats except everyone joins one of them and they're not as...well... childish . They have bars where you can drink cheaply if you have a student card. The first night we went out, they introduced me to Fish, which is this clear shot that tastes like Jaeger (vomit) however, I played champion and took them as long as they kept coming. We went to another bar after that and ended up back home probably around four am. It’s ALWAYS light out here. I’m used to being up around 6:30, going for a run and enjoying a full day, but here, the sun sets at about 9:30/10 but isn’t dark until midnight (if you even want to call that dark) and the sun rises at 3:30, so it starts to get light again around two, making it easy to go out all night and not realize what you’ve done.
After that night, I decided that I shouldn’t be drinking too much and start getting myself running and training for the race. I kept going out, but generally stayed sober. We also went to his friend’s place to watch Eurovision. Hilarious. It’s kind of like American Idol but the performers are all professional and from each European country; they are all competing for the highest score. Honestly, the costumes were ridiculous and the performers were overly dramatic, but it was highly entertaining. I suggest YouTubing this immediately.
Looking around the streets of Sweden, the people are exactly what you’d expect, Beautiful. Krister told me that I was probably going to be very average compared to everyone else (thanks, jerk); they all look like your stereotypical Barbie beauties; tall, thin, blonde hair, blue eyed and stunning. I wonder how you make people this pretty or if they’re aliens—maybe they’re manufactured? Anyway, I also found a gym to work out at, though I had to pay ten dollars a day (ouch), but it was highly necessary because I was completely out of shape for the upcoming marathon due to the inability to do consistent running in India; I only had two weeks to train for it! Krister was writing a paper for the first two weeks and occasionally going to class, so I spent most of my time wondering around the city. I went into an interesting cemetery, which was more like a Zen garden, and to the nearby botanical garden in the first few days. Mostly, I was enjoying the foreign concept of returning to the same place and not actually living out of a suitcase (he gave me two shelves to unpack my few belongings onto; what a host!). Though I appreciated the change; it made me homesick, desiring a career, my own bed, all my friends, the bartender that knows how to make me a Kettle/soda just the way I like it…what’s the word? Oh, Stability.
Procrastination Station
It's clearly been forever since I've posted. Don't worry, I'm alive. I was in Sweden for a few weeks and I just landed in Kenya a few days ago. I have a lot of blogs typed up on my computer, I just need some wireless and you have plenty of 9-5 procrastination:) Coming soon to a website near you!
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