The next day I got my life in order and on Tuesday morning, I left to head up to Fisherman’s Camp. I got in the matatu to town and when they dropped me off, an older and ADORABLE woman helped me to find the next matatu I needed to head to Lake naivasha. It took about twenty minutes of asking different drivers to continue heading us in the right direction. Along the way, she told me about how she had been religiously saved as a child and how much she loves Jesus (she asked me if I had been saved. Umm, I’m working on it?) She used to study economics in India and then in the UK and has been back in Kenya for twenty years with her husband and three children (all of which are in universities or soon to be. I was quite amazed with her strength to have the opportunity to live and study in another country thirty years ago. I asked her how old she was and when she told me her age (51) I told her she didn’t look it. She stopped and look back and me and said, “It’s Jesus, honey.” lol, Christianity apparently cures wrinkles. She’s so devoted; she doesn’t understand how people live without faith or “if they’re even happy since they have so much hate without the love of God in their hearts.” She is grateful for what the British came in and did—bring the English language so they were no longer disconnected from each other linguistically, urbanization and, of course, Christianity. I find it so brave and strong of her to focus on the positive aspects of colonialism and that sometimes you have to make a few mistakes in order to move forward. I mean, I agree with her to an extent. But she doesn’t seem to notice or mind that they have lost so much of their tribal history, not everyone agrees with Western integration, just because a group of people doesn’t know the glory of the Iphone doesn’t mean that their lives are sad and pathetic and they need modern technology in order to be happy. I think a lot of the Western world is jaded in that way, that if someone doesn’t live the capitalist life that they must be miserable. I could really go on about this for a while, but the point was that SHE was focusing on the positive and I admired that. We were also discussing how naïve people are concerning their perceptions of Africans. When away in the UK, she’d be asked where she lived in Africa (response; oh, in trees!) and how she got a phone that TAKES PICTURES (umm in AFRICA!) and my favorite was when she was asked how she learned English (Oh, in the airport). hahaha. Her sense of humor was phenomenal.
The bus took less than two hours and from there I got into another matatu to the camp. The woman at the ticket booth said the price was 70ksh but the guy tried to write it out for 200! I laugh and said no, that the other woman already told me another price and he just said, “ oh, ok” and that was it! I got to the camp and set my new itty bitty “two person” tent; this was the first time I set up a tent on my own and I was oh so proud! I know it’s not difficult to set up a tent, especially one that’s the size of a Fed-Ex box, but even small, personal accomplishments are exciting! It was after three at this point, so I didn’t have time to do anything too interesting. I had a snack and chatted with a young Brittish couple and read my book, ate more (surprise, surprise) and went to bed.
The next morning I went to Hell! Hell’s Gate National Park, that is (so cheesy, sorry). I took a matatu to the gate and had to walk two km down the road to the entrance. The woman (Rachel) in the office was so sweet. She asked for my e-mail address so she could write to me after telling me I should find myself a Kenyan husband. I held up my ring finger and said I was married but she was persistent that that could change. They got me a bike to rent and she suggested I hike the gorge before trying to ride around the Buffalo Circuit. Initially, I was being stubborn and wanted to bike the 14 km loop, first, but my bike was struggling to go up the hill, the gears kept switching and it began making a loud clicking noise that I was sure would scare away all of the animals. Also, the path was so sandy I could hardly peddle and my back tire kept sliding out. I decided I might as well turn around and hike the gorge first and, wouldn’t you know it, once I turned around the gears worked perfectly fine—a sign perhaps? Yep, wait for it.
I headed over the painfully bumpy road towards the Ranger’s Post where I would be able to hike to Hell (seriously, that’s what it’s called!). The path cuts through the grassy park and in the distance as well as alongside the road, I watched tens (probably up to 100) zebras grazing, a few giraffes eating off the tippy tops of some trees lining my way, impalas, ostriches, the odd cow, and groups of warthogs scurrying for a place to hide from me (they’re so funny w/ their fat bodies wobbling on stubby legs and covered what looks like hair plugs all over their bodies). Though, generally, the animals were thoroughly unimpressed with me.
Once I arrived at the post, I told the workers that I’d prefer to hike alone (as I stubbornly do). He was a bit weary, but didn’t put up much for a fight. One many showed me to the start of the path, which is quite tricky to get to since you have to crawl over boulders and scale down narrow crevices that are not made for wide, baby-making hips, that’s for sure. He gave me the run down of where to go; basically, follow the water (a small, trickling river of sorts) and when I get to the hot springs about an hour and a half down, take a right at the yellow Acacia tree and follow the path back up. DO NOT PASS THE TREE; then you’ll be in native Masai territory where the predatory animals live. OK, easy enough, right? Follow the water, so I did…and got lost. I followed a path along the water and was looking down into a crevice with three small waterfalls while singing “George of the Jungle” (the Jane remix), to myself when a boy of about ten years old, a goat herder I saw earlier, ran up behind me tel.ing me I was going the wrong way, that I was headed towards the forest—oh, God. He showed me back down, and apparently I had to LITERLLY follow the water, like, IN it. Meaning I had to go through that narrow crevice, UNDER the three falls. Time to get wet! This is called the Devil’s Shower; the first two falls are hot and the third is cold, it’s so bizarre! After that, the path widened out significantly and I was left trekking through the water and sand while staring up at steep, eroded cliffs on either side of me. I saw some steam up ahead to my right and two guys chipping at rocks on the other bank. I thought the steam was actually smoke from a fire, at first, so I asked the men where the hot springs were; they stared blankly so I figured I needed to keep going. One guy then ran after me and brought me back into a wooded area where the ground was rumbling beneath my feet and there was a puddle of bubbling, sputtering muck that was apparently the hot springs. Ok, so where’s the path? He points back to the “river”—nom, there’s another one. He shakes his head “no.” I walk a few feet and see a dirt path heading up, “does this go back to the Ranger’s Post?” He shakes his head “yes.” Ok, thanks.
This path isn’t very well marked in places and diverges into many others; I kept guessing (which is never idea in my case) which to follow and soon I ran across some more herders who told me I was still going the right direction. Somehow the path came to an end and I was left wondering on the edge of a cliff; I kept walking back and forth, but couldn’t figure out where to go. I started shyly yelling out “hello,” but received no answer. I let my fear get the best of me when the thought that I had wondered into Masai territory popped into my head. I let myself cry and flip out for a few minutes and then stood there trying to settle down and figure out my best option. The issue was that I didn’t have all day because huge black clouds were quickly rolling my way. Plus, I had just accidentally stabbed myself in the leg w/ a large pointy plant that I had no idea whether or not it was poisonous (took picture for safe measure upon hopeful survival). Then, on the cliff on the other side of the gorge I was following, I saw a young man waving and yelling “wrong way!” My voice broke as I shouted, “ I KNOW! Where do I go!” I had to head back down and he lead me up to the opposite cliff and brought me to the road. I was only about ten minutes from the post. I gave him some money and water before he set off. I rolled into the hut just as it started to thunder and downpour. I sat under the awning with the workers for a while, chit-chatting until the rain slowed.
“Good thing you got out, when it rains, there are flash floods and you get a free ride, hah, hah.”
OMG! I would’ve been done for!
I got on my bike and headed back the eight km to the gate, only to, somehow, end up climbing to the top of a private road hill before realized I managed to get lost on a circular road. I went back and finally found my way. At this point, it was four PM and I hadn’t eaten since eight and ran out of water in the gorge. I was too exhausted to take photos of more animals, though at one point I looked to my left and saw a field full of baboon on all fours all slowly crawling towards me while staring in my directions—creepy. I dropped off my bike and walked the two km to the road. I ended up walking five km back because every matatu that passed was full. I was in such desperate need of water that I could hardly get myself to smile at the school kids yelling at me, the whole time, “How, are you! How are you! How are you!”
I struggled to take shower and then collapsed in my tent for a few hours before dinner (Ugali and beef stew, mmmmmmm). That night I got to see my first hippo! The camp is on Lake Naivasha and after dark, the hippos come out of the woods to graze between the lake and the electric fence which is protecting the campers (little did I know, Hippos are one of the most dangerous animals). At about 3 30 am, the hippos started going nuts; I could hear them making loud noises and scraping at the ground. In my daze, I was sure they were going to charge through the gate and trample my tent. That’d be just my luck, at the end of my trip to die by hippo stampede. However, it was all in my head and I got up in the morning to a massive full breakfast and to take the trip from hell to Lewa.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Nairobbery 7’s Tournament
When I got back to the Bush Hostel, there were tons of new Wazungu, mostly from the England or Scotland. I got in late on Saturday so I didn't stay up chatting for long; however, I was hanging out late enough to learn there was going to be a 7s Rugby tournament occurring at the Nairobi Stadium. For those of you who don't know, a 7s tournament is basically a bunch of Rugby games where they only have seven people playing on each team instead of fifteen. We all headed over in cabs at 9:30 the next morning and cheered for countries all over Africa, UK, Japan, and France (a lot of the people I met actually knew players on the Bristol University Team). Clearly, a weekend sports event would not be complete without a cold beer in hand and boy was it cheap here. Over the course of the day two 19 year-old Scottish boys and myself polished off six six-packs of Tusker and Redd's (a sweet-apple beer that goes down like juice). To justify at least half of the cases of beer, by purchasing a six pack of Tusker, you received a free hat (a nylon cow boy shaped hat in neon yellow advertising the alcoholic deliciousness) Between serious games, they could say what I guess would be like honorary games; there were two women's games (one where a woman had to switch jerseys and didn't have an undershirt which caused quite the ruckus from the crowd) and another game from what looked to be a geriatrics league. These men hardly trotted around the field, clearly not still in proper rugby playing shape.
Then, surprise, surprise, a massive hangover kicked in around nine Pm. It dissipated around ten, but I stupidly smacked a mosquito on my ear which brought the pounding back with a vengeance. Sadly, I couldn't muster up the strength to go with everyone to the after-party (which was really sad because there were some sexy rugby players that I would've enjoyed meeting:) )
Then, surprise, surprise, a massive hangover kicked in around nine Pm. It dissipated around ten, but I stupidly smacked a mosquito on my ear which brought the pounding back with a vengeance. Sadly, I couldn't muster up the strength to go with everyone to the after-party (which was really sad because there were some sexy rugby players that I would've enjoyed meeting:) )
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Update: I am alive
The internet connection is, well, awful here; sorry I haven't been able to update. I leave for Boston TOMORROW so I will be able to update in a week or so:) Plus, I have over 600 photos for everyone's enjoyment.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Save the Cheetahs
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.
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.
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!
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