The Warm Heart of Africa steals mine again

 Although I will have only been in Malawi for less than a quarter of my time abroad, I know that the memories I have from this part of my adventure will stand out to me when I look back on my time in Africa. I don't have nearly enough time to share everything now, but here are some highlights from the past five weeks.

– Considering this episode has seemed to influence most of my experiences in the past three weeks or so, I guess I'll begin with The Great Shingles Saga... It all started after I was doing a bit of gardening one day and noticed that my face was pretty itchy. I figured that while digging in the dirt I had managed to uncover some sort of angry bug which managed to make its way onto my face, bite me, end of story. (Unfortunately that wasn't the story at all.) Then the excruciating ear pain set in. This time I figured I was just suffering from a raging ear infection. Wrong again. Now all of this was taking place in Gowa, a rural village with no running water or electricity, about a two hour walk from the nearest pharmacy plus a two hour drive from any fully equipped healthcare center. But, Malawi has been far too good to me, and it was certainly looking out for me this time. On the morning we were scheduled to leave Gowa and head south for a few days in Liwonde National Park, I woke up with a rash that was spreading across my face and under my eye. A few days prior we had happened upon some American missionaries who explained that they were organizing mobile clinics in the area. As my luck would have it, one of these clinics was scheduled for the day we were leaving Gowa, and it happened to be taking place right along our route out of the valley. So, we decided to stop in and after cutting about 200 local Malawians in line (serious guilt...) I sat down with Doc Martin, a retired armed forces doc from Arkansas who now comes to Malawi multiple times per year to hold mobile clinics. He examined my face for all of about ten seconds before sharing the wonderful news that I had shingles. (Now it's possible that the only thing you know about shingles is that you recall your grandmother having it at some point or another. Last time I checked, I was not a grandmother or over the age of 65. I guess shingles doesn't discriminate.) I don't think my story quite impresses the pure wonder in the fact that I happened to run into Doc Martin that day. Of course he and his fellow missionaries told me “it's a God thing”, and whether it was that, fate, pure dumb luck, or something else, I have no doubt that things would have ended differently had I not gotten that original confident diagnosis. Because the next day when I woke up, things had taken a turn for the worse, as my eye was now red, swollen, and disgusting. But, now that we knew what we were dealing with, it was straight to the pharmacy for steroids and anti-virals. Then I was off to Blantyre to see another doc, back to Lilongwe for yet another opinion, and off to the eye clinic to see an ophthalmologist. It was an emotionally draining few days as I had to decide whether or not to head home early to seek better treatment and to prevent myself from losing serious vision in my left eye if it had indeed been damaged. Of course, no one wants to be Fred Hayes from Apollo 13, bumped from the mission because he was at risk of contracting the measles. Fred Hayes never got the measles, and I obviously hoped I wouldn't go blind. But while Hayes saves the day, there was no mission needing rescuing for me. Instead, there was only the Warm Heart of Africa, which I wasn't ready to leave yet. But thankfully, I had some great doctors looking out for me in both Malawi and in the States, while my advisers knew when I was in trouble and made sure I got all the right care. So that's the Great Shingles Saga of 2012. Now for the good stuff.

-- One of my favorite parts of this year's trip to Malawi for me was the gardening. Prior to this, my only gardening experience has involved the occasional weeding for my grandmother in addition to the time I tried to grow carrots in a joint compound bucket when I was twelve. (I got way too eager and harvested them long before they were ready. They were about two inches long and as thick as a pencil.) But I learned from some Malawian pros, and my green thumb is thriving!

In Malawi, the majority of people living in rural areas rely on smallholder farming for food and income. Virtually everyone grows maize, the staple crop, in addition to a combination of ground nuts (peanuts), beans, rape, cabbage, or mustard, tomatoes, among others. Most farming is fertilizer intensive, and with rains lasting only two to three months of the entire year, an annual high stakes game ensues in which families must balance investment and yields while considering the risks of limited rains or pest infestation in hopes that they can harvest enough maize to last the entire year.

Enter permaculture. In short, permaculture means think like a forest. In nature, you don't ever find large plots of monocultured land which relies on fertilizer, so why is so much of our environment now monocultured land which relies on fertilizer? I'll leave that answer up to you, but you get the idea. You're probably already familiar with one of the main principles of permaculture. Grow in guilds – maize, beans, pumpkin. You're ready to start gardening!

So, the reason I'm boring you with all this farming theory is because my host family has started their own permaculture garden at their home. It's incredibly exciting because they're the first in their area to do such a thing, and with all of their new bed space, they have the potential to grow a lot more food, for themselves and for sale, and by gardening right at the home, they can reuse all of their waste water, allowing them to grow throughout the year. This was also very exciting because it meant I got to take part! We built compost piles, transplanted young fruit trees, made bird baths, built new brick lined beds, planted, mulched, watered, harvested, and ate. My brothers even let me design and plant my own bed. It has a small papaya tree in the middle, which I transplanted, in addition to maize, beans, sunflowers, mustard, pumpkin, and lemongrass. On my last day in Gowa you may have thought it was Christmas after I spotted a few bean sprouts in the bed. I can't wait to receive picture updates from the garden, and I know my Malawian family is already excited to eat my vegetables!

-- Ostensibly, my main purpose of returning to Malawi was for research (or so the University of Rochester thinks, because they'll be fronting the bill) so I guess I should share a little bit about that. Along with two other friends and my host brother as translator, we carried out a survey on the use of car batteries and solar panels as a means of charging electronic devices in order to gauge the potential interest in a local battery charging station which would be located at the new community center set to be built in Gowa. There are many people using car batteries in the area to operate cell phones, radios, and TVs, and those without a solar panel are forced to hike about an hour and a half out of the valley to a charging station, which takes both time and money. While our time was cut short by almost a week while I was recovering from shingles, we were still able to interview over thirty people on their current electricity usage and demands. One of my favorite interviews was with a teacher from the Gowa secondary school. He has a degree in theology, but we found him at his home on Saturday studying chemistry because there is currently no physical science teacher at the school. I told him I would have been thrilled to tutor him had I not been leaving in a few days. We talked about his energy use and he explained that he had a small solar panel and a car battery, but the panel didn't work yet because he had yet to purchase an inverter. I asked why and he said it was due to cost, but he then said that he learned how you can replace the part with a resistor from a TV, bought at a fraction of the cost, which was his plan. I asked where he learned that, and he told me in a book from the school library. The boy who harvests the wind isn't the only Malawian genius...

So there are a few highlights for you. You're probably thinking that gardening, surveying, and shingles really doesn't sound especially thrilling, which is true. I think the real enjoyment for me was in cooking every day with my brothers and sister, hiking, popcorn and movie nights, and poop jokes, among other things. (The chichewa word for hyena is fece, and the word for danger is poopsya, so I'm sure you can imagine the fun we had with that one.) When I left Gowa for the first time two years ago, I looked back down the road and knew I'd come back. So when I decided to return, I thought this would end the Malawi chapter of my travels. But I was wrong...walking out of the village I had the same feeling of knowing I'll be back, and I think it's only a matter of time...

But until then, it's on to South Africa and then back to the States. I'm already experiencing reverse culture shock here in Jo'burg. Our hotel complex has a Hooters. Need I say more? The Hamlin parentals are set to arrive this evening, so I'd say the fun's over, or maybe just beginning...

From Sea to Summit

 I was scheduled to leave Kenya this morning for Malawi, but the airline industry being what it is didn't have the same plans for me. Although my reservation was for today, apparently my flight isn't until tomorrow. Of course this is a bummer, but when Kenya Airways puts you up in about the best hotel in Nairobi with free unlimited buffets for every meal, things could obviously be a lot worse. And lucky for you, I've decided to swap my three minute phone call to anywhere in the world for two hours of internet access, so I now have the chance to share a little bit about my last few weeks.

I last updated from Dar es Salaam, prior to heading off to Zanzibar. I will report that Zanzibar does indeed have cars and paved roads and whatever else the song said it didn't. It also has gorgeous beaches and delicious banana and nutella crepes. But don't look for a plastic grocery bag on the island as they've been made illegal as of last year. Regardless of the haves and have nots of Zanzibar, we had an excellent few week. A few days in town offered the chance to get lost a few too many times within the narrow alleyways of Stone Town, the opportunity to learn a little bit more about the island's history, and of course to do some shopping. The second half of our trip took us to the opposite side of the island to the middle of nowhere to be beach bums for a bit. The internet is certainly an amazing thing, as it seemed pretty incredible that we were able to find such a great little place to stay in the absolute middle of nowhere. Our little beach bungalows were a bit like the luxury version of our homes back in Shirazi, complete with electricity, fans, and outdoor bathroom. It was great to go to the bathroom under the stars, but not so much in the rain... There's not so much to say about our time at the beach. There was lots of relaxing, staring at the ocean, and attempting to dodge beach boys. But things did get exciting when we decided to plan a snorkeling adventure at the reef a ways off the beach. We decided to listen to one of the men constantly soliciting us along the water. He gave us the cheapest offer for a snorkeling trip we had heard all week, and being the college students that we are, we decided to jump on it. He told us we'd take a sailboat, and although we were somewhat sketched out by this, we figured it'd be an adventure. And boy it was... The next morning, he and his buddies showed up with an outrigger which had certainly had its fair share of fishing voyages. Although a trimaran, the boat itself was only about two feet wide, and we all stood on the beach thinking how on earth were six of us going to fit in this boat? We also strongly questioned the seaworthiness of skiff, but decided to go for it anyways. Of course it was somewhat disconcerting to watch a large spray of water seep in through a leak between two of the boat's wooden planks as we hit every wave, but it was nothing a little bailing couldn't fix. Despite our worries, the boat managed to stay afloat, plus we enjoyed some good snorkeling.

We were all sad to leave the beach, knowing we were heading back to Nairobi, but we could feel a bit better knowing that this time we would be traveling for less than two hours by air, as opposed to the day long epic journey we endured before. Of the six of us who traveled to Zanzibar, four were soon saying goodbye to Kenya, while my friend Anna and I were preparing for our grand finale adventure to Mt. Kenya.

Prior to this semester, my mountain climbing experience really only consisted of hiking Mt. Monadnock on a sixth grade field trip. So why not start off strong with the second highest mountain in Africa?! I had planned to really start getting back in shape during ISP in preparation for the trip, but neither Anna nor myself really committed much time to our fitness level. This led us simply to laugh at ourselves when discussing our trip. Fortunately, our guide set us a great “pole pole” (slowly slowly) pace so we never really had to worry about keeping up. As it turns out, we had way more important things to worry about during our four days on the mountain.

At times I felt I was becoming borderline hypothermic and at others I felt frostbitten toes were inevitable. I had what I can confidently call the worst headache of my life due to altitude sickness and I can also add a tally to my sparse vomiting history, also as a result of the altitude. And waking up at two in the morning in attempts to reach the summit in time for sunrise really didn't help my cause. (I know this sounds pretty bad, and a few times I did think what on earth am I doing and why did I freely choose to do this to myself?) But finally peaking my head out from the back side of the mountain to see the sun do the same over the horizon made everything worth it. Even though it can't possibly do the moment justice, I'll let the photo speak for itself.

In total we walked about 60 km, peed about six times along the trail everyday do to our diligent increased water intake, and for me, wore seven layers to bed each night, including a soft shell and a winter jacket all inside my sleeping bag. But neither Anna nor myself could have imagined a better way to end our Kenyan experience. And although at times I was sick and cold, having the opportunity to say goodbye to Kenya from its roof is something I won't forget.

And so it is so long to Kenya. It's been a sad few days as I've come to call my neighborhood in Nairobi home, and the relationships I've made are just as strong as those of friends and family. Relationships are highly valued in Kenyan culture, making every farewell a struggle, even to the woman at the cyber cafe or man who fixed my glasses. Maybe one day I'll return, but for now, the south is waiting. Hopefully I'll be off to Malawi in the morning, but then again, another day in this hotel wouldn't be so bad! I'll try my best to post a few updates while I'm there, but I make no promises on my internet connection. So for now, kwaheri (goodbye)!

Ali

Our sketchy sailboat rows away

The bungalow

Freezing cold, but at the summit!

This one speaks for itself...

Trekkin'! (Our porters are enthusiastic...)

We made it back!  Our entire team, including porter, guide, and cook.

The end of one adventure and the start of the next

Technology hasn't really been on my side recently. This is mainly due to the fact that my little toy of a computer (thank you Lauren Pengrin) decided to die on me less than 24 hours before my final 40 page ISP report was due.  That certainly made for a fun evening... Not only that, but it chose to start working again right after I finally finished my paper on a friend's computer.  I was not pleased... Regardless, I'd say I'm having fairly good luck on the technology front today because amazingly I am able to post this out of any wifi range from my Kindle. To be honest, it really sucks to type on it (my thumbs are already sore) but I figure it's worth the update.

My last week in Nairobi was spent frantically trying to finish up my ISP paper. We worked down to the wire, even having to run from place to place to try to find somewhere in Nairobi with power to print our papers. Of course it happens that the time we really need elecricity to write and eventually print is the rainy season when power outages are almost a daily occurance. In addition to the computer issue the utilities really didn't want to cooperate because we also had no water for our last three days in Nairobi...that got real bad real fast after my pre Mt. Kenya stair workout...let's just say no one was sitting too close to me for the next few days...

But luckily, all the stress of ISPs and power failures and all of Nairobi's other surprises is long! The coast just has a way of fixing everything (except some continued intestinal distress...I'm leaving that one to the cipro...)

I don't want to make you all too jealous (sorry for those of you who are currently taking exams as I write) but I've literally spent the past four days in paradise. A paradise complete with palm trees, ocean, four pools, all you can eat buffets,and actual day beds for sleeping in during outside during the daytime. And yes...I'll be getting credit for that...  But it wasn't all fun and games because we had to listen to everyone present their ISPs, however this for the most part pretty exciting as we got to hear all about what our friends had been up to for the past month. This was the culmination of our semester and everythimg we've learned. I'm still struggling to understand that the semester is really over but this just means the start of a new set of adventures!

Our epic voyage to Zanzibar began yesterday after lunch and farewells to all. We hopped a mattu from Malindi down to Mombasa, about a two hour drive. There we spent thenight before an early morning departure to Dar es Salaam by bus. This however ws not without a new technoloical malfunction when the ATm decided to eat my friend's debit card. And obviously the security guard was atotal jurk, the manager of the bank had already gone home, so it's fairly certain she'll never see the card again... :( But we persevered and made it on the bus this morning for our ten hour trek to TZ. I almost got left behind in a bathroom at one stop,but besides that the ride was fairly uneventful. Just your normal rollercoaster ride through the country side in a seat with too little leg room even for me. After our arrival we all decided we were certainly pleased to be flying back to Nairobi on the return trip...

Tomorrow it's off to Zanzibar by ferry! Zanzibar has always just been this mysterious place in my head. The only thing I've ever known about it was from this silly song my dad and I heard on NPR probably when I was six. All I remember was the part that said, "you can't get there in a car! Zanzibar oh Zanzibar!" It also talked about there not being any tar in Zanzibar and just about anything else that ends in ar. (I know this sounds like an incredibly stupid song, and it is.) But thank you NPR for playing it way back when so that my Dad and I could then chuckle about the place any time we ever heard the name from that point on. So not only did I come full circle with the Maasai jumping contest, but also with Zanzibar. I can' wait to find out how much of the song is accurate...I'll let you know...

Ali

Maisha (life)

I know it's been too long and I have no excuses except that I'm now writing up a storm (ie 40 pages) about my treasure hunt through Kenya to find biogas digesters. Yes it's been an adventure! I've mastered many matatu routes out of Nairobi, eaten goat twice in one day with some new biogas friends, walked miles, been picked up on the side of the road, etc, etc. I'm sure you're probably wondering about all of what I just mentioned, especially the part about being picked up on the side of the road (don't worry though, it's not nearly as sketchy as it sounds). I know I probably could have expounded on any of these events and turned it into a nice blog post, but despite the excitement, I've been hesitant to write. Here's the thing – I've reached a point in my time here that I've really begun to feel like I'm living in Nairobi. I've never spent such an extended period of time somewhere besides Ipswich, MA or Rochester, NY until my time in Kenya. A crazy matatu trip has become the everyday, not just some absurd amusement ride like it was three months ago. Marriage proposals from strangers seem normal. And three weeks of diarrhea just seems to have become a part of life. I no longer feel like I'm traveling, just living. But unfortunately (or fortunately...) for you, I sort of feel like it's a little boring to read a blog about everyday life. Thus my lack of motivation to keep you updated. (I apologize if this seems like a cop out.) And now that we're all just hunkering down to write, write, write, I don't think I'll really have anything to share, that is unless me or one of my friends gets swept away by the rainy season flooding. We'll be heading back to the coast in a week for our final presentations which I'm obviously excited for, and then it's off to Zanzibar!

In a digester

Biogas and Elephants

I said I'd share a little bit more about my ISP, and I figured now would be a good time since I actually have some things to share! I think I may have mentioned that things have been moving pretty slowly in terms of my research. (Africa time gets you every time...) I've been busy venturing out into the field but I've had trouble accomplishing what I've actually set out to do, and only had my first formal interview with a biogas plant owner on Friday. My original goal was to visit 20 homes with biogas over the course of the month, so at this rate you might imagine my ensuing anxiety. However, yesterday was a game changer, as one of the biogas contractors I've been in touch with over the past few weeks was able to take me to three sites! And not only that, but because I was going to an area on my side of the city, I didn't have to go into city center to catch a second matatu to my destination. Having walked through city center every other day this week from the bus station to the matatu sector (from here you can pretty much get anywhere in Kenya...) I have experienced far too much sensory overload. If the masses of people don't get you, the massive clouds of bus exhaust will. (And these are the reasons I don't like cities.) I've found this to be the most exhausting part of my ISP period thus far, so I was all over yesterday's simple outbound commute.

As I mentioned, I visited three sites in the Ngong area, and although that's not many, I'm starting to see some trends. Although biogas was introduced to Kenya over 50 years ago, it has only started to gain popularity in the past five or ten, while plant production has grown drastically in the past one or two years due to a new subsidy program which makes the technology more affordable. Even so, most are still uneducated in regards to the technology and its potential, and many who are still find the cost to be prohibitive. As a result, it seems that biogas hasn't reached the people who can benefit most from it, however I'm sure that this will come with time.

The first home I visited was of a middle aged woman named Ester and her family. We started in the kitchen where they had a nice six burner stove (up to this point, I had only seen four) in addition to a microwave. But on the opposite side of the room was the two burner biogas stove. Ester's daughter demonstrated that it did indeed work, lighting the stove and allowing me to see the strong blue flame that erupted from the burner. We went and had a seat in the living room where the boys were playing FIFA soccer on the family's PlayStation. (Haven't seen one of those in Kenya!) Ester grabbed a few eggs from the stockpile in the corner went to whip me up an omelet. Greg Mortenson's Three Cups of Tea may not tell the true story, but he at least got it right about the tea. In many parts of the world it is common courtesy to insist on a cup of chai (or meal) to any visitor. Kenya is no exception, and I enjoyed a delicious omelet at Mama Ester's and an excellent glass of milk tea at my second visit. This surely beat the glass of fermented milk known as maziwa lala I was offered on the previous day's visit... After enjoying my second breakfast, Ester and I talked all about biogas. She has four cows which provide her with two valuable commodities – milk, and now poop. Someone in the family feeds the digester every day, which produces enough gas to cook breakfast, lunch, and part of dinner. When the gas runs out they transfer to the other stove to cook the remainder of the meal. In this way, they've been able to reduce their use of conventional LPG fuel by more than half, which is about a fifty dollar monthly savings. Ester says that she hopes to reinvest this savings into another cow or a milking machine to further her business. In addition, she has realized that the plants in her garden sprout up faster than her neighbors' since she started using the bioslurry byproduct as fertilizer.

Of the families I've spoken with, many aspects of Ester's story are shared by others. Because her home is connected to the grid and she was unable to afford a larger digester which would have produced more gas with enough input, Ester isn't using biogas lighting. Moreover, because her family was using LPG before biogas, they were already benefiting from health impacts associated with indoor air pollution that comes with cooking with wood and charcoal. This means that the impacts for her family of using biogas are mainly financial. I'm excited to see if this trend continues as I hear from others using biogas!

In other news, we decided to play tourist yesterday and visit the elephant orphanage in Nairobi National Park. Every day from 11-12 you can come and see the babies during feeding time, and your toes may even be lucky enough to get a trunk kiss like mine were! The elephants range in age from only a few weeks to three years during which time they're completely milk dependent. They're fed every three hours and have to be watched at all times which means that a worker must sleep with them in their individual enclosures every night. But because elephants are known for strong familial instincts, they sleep with a different worker every night to prevent imprinting. It's an incredible program and boy are the babies cute! And I'm thinking that with the poop of about twenty elephants they could make some serious biogas...possibly a follow-up case study to my ISP??? But for now, just enjoy some cute elephant baby pics.

Feeding time.

Does this make my butt look big?

Love.

No News is Good News

I had planned to give you an update a few days ago, but I'll be completely honest. The primary purpose of this blog is to let my grandmother know I'm safe, having fun, and still alive. But thanks to the wonderful world of technology, she was actually able to see my face the other day on Skype when she was in Ipswich for the weekend. So, sorry for the rest of you, the post wasn't really necessary when I could tell her all about my latest adventures “in person”. But I guess I should still share with the rest of you.

I've eased back into city life after enjoying a relaxing time in Tanzania. Our ISP period is in full swing and the clock is ticking! (I won't go into detail about how crazy it seems I only have a month left in the program because then I'll just get stressed out about all the ISP work that I need to get done...) And because we're in Kenya which runs on Africa time, it usually takes a whole lot longer to get anything done, but I'm trying my best and hoping that things will start to come together.

Because the goal of ISP is to let us loose and see what we can come back with, they really let us make all our own decisions, one of which is housing arrangements. Last week, five of my friends and I moved into an apartment fairly close to our school where we'll be living for the month. It's been weird to be living out of my homestay and I've been missing my family and my mama's incredible chai, but it's been nice having a little bit more independence. Our apartment is also really nice, complete with wood floors, a TV and DVD player, excellent internet, and really comfy couches. So on the few days that I was busy at home writing my final paper, I had to force myself to get out of the house just so I could remember that I was still living in Kenya... I'm not particularly proud of this, but it makes me all the more excited to get out in the field for my ISP.

I have nothing else especially exciting to share. My friends and I went on an upcountry adventure this weekend to hike Mt. Longonot, which was once a volcano (like Ngorongoro Crater) but on a much smaller scale. But, it was still a great climb. I'm really not motivated to write any more (sorry), so I'll just post some pictures instead. Enjoy!

Stopping for a good view and a rest before exploring the crater rim.

Trash at the top...

Me at the top...

And we just missed the rain!

I just got back from our “educational” excursion to Tanzania and have returned with one pressing question. Who needs Jamaica when your spring break involves sacrificing a goat, having a rager Maasai style, going on safari, and hiking on Mt. Kilimanjaro among other awesome things? We all decided that this was indeed the best spring break we've ever had. Just about every experience was a highlight, so my usual highlight list isn't going to work so well, so you'll have to bear with me...

After traveling to Tanzania by bus we made our base camp in Arusha at the United African Alliance Community Center (UAACC), which was no ordinary hostel. The organization is run by Black Panthers Pete and Charlotte O'Neal. Pete is infamously known for starting the Kansas City chapter of the Black Panthers during the civil rights movement and threatening to gun down the House of Representatives. At age 30 he was accused of carrying a gun over state lines. To avoid what would likely be an imminent death in jail, he escaped to Algeria with his 19 year old wife before they settled permanently in Arusha. While most only hear about violence associated with the Black Panthers they had a strong commitment to community service which Pete and Charlotte have kept with them. On their compound shaded by banana trees and brightened by painted murals they teach English and computer classes to adults in the community while caring for over 20 local orphans and also hosting students like us. Having self-exiled from the states and without Tanzanian citizenship, Pete calls himself a citizen of the world. Having learned from his experiences which none of us could ever imagine, he gave us some good life advice and laso cooked us some really great food!

After a day in Arusha, we left the UAACC to spend a few days with a Maasai community about an hour north of town. From the road we drove a few miles into the bush under the backdrop of Mt. Meru. There seemed to be no signs of human life until we found ourselves right up in front of one of the community's bomas. If you are a long time fan of Survivor you will recall that in Survivor Africa the camp was surrounded by a wall of tree branches and pricker bushes to protect the contestants from lions and other intruders. This is all I could think of when we first arrived and I saw the same type of structure around the homes. but don't worry, there were no lions. Our stay with the Maasai was incredible. Let's be honest, when you celebrate an occasion with a goat sacrifice how could it be disappointing? We were welcomed to take part in as much of the process as we wanted, and as one in the “vegetables are what food eats” camp, I felt it was important to participate as much as I could. This meant restraining a flailing leg while one of the local Maasai warriors knelt on its neck with a hand around its mouth. The Maasai kill their animals by suffocation because it's cleaner and preserves more of the animal's blood. In that regard it seems like a good strategy, but after holding on to that goat's leg for what seemed like an eternity, I can tell you that's sure not the way I'd want to go. But I will say that goat pancreas is mighty tasty and liver isn't so bad either. I can't tell you about raw kidney because I just couldn't say yes to the elder who shoved it directly in my face after cutting it out of the body. The goat definitely didn't enjoy the experience, but I certainly did.

Another highlight of the stay was taking part in a traditional Maasai dance. I still remember the time in first grade when we had a Maasai jumping contest as part of our Africa unit. (Mt. Kilimanjaro was also one of our spelling words – thank you Ms. Willig). Morgan Nadai won the contest with the highest jump as I recall. Looking aback on this activity now I can only think that it was fairly culturally insensitive, but it was a good time in first grade. Well, this week I came full circle. I found myself under the stars in the middle of nowhere, singing and dancing while watching about ten Maasai warriors show off their traditional dance moves. I don't think Ms. Willig knew that the jumping is all about showing your strength and bringing home a pretty lady (or maybe she just didn't tell us). Sorry to disappoint, but I did not come back to Nairobi with a Maasai warrior boyfriend.

We then said goodbye to the Maasai and headed off in our Land Cruisers in search of one of the last few hunter-gatherer communities in East Africa. We picked up our guide who makes a living bringing tourists to visit them, and he was able to show us the way. Sitting in this tank of a vehicle, I soon realized that we were on a human safari, and I didn't know how I felt about that. I justified it by considering that the people we were visiting were also compensated, allowing them to purchase new arrow tips, beads, and the occasional sack of maize flour when food is scarce. Although the hour visit was somewhat awkward and uncomfortable, it was still very much enjoyed. This community lives so far from the modern world, that I thought I could only be in a movie or National Geographic documentary for that matter. The men wore baboon pelts on their backs, making them look like serious badasses. I tried my hand at making fire and shooting arrows and was almost successful at starting a fire with sticks, but I didn't quite move fast enough and the men really wanted to smoke their weed. But, with the right materials, I think I might be able to, but don't hold me to it. After an opportunity to purchase jewelry and such we hopped back in the Landies to travel to the next day's location for the slightly more comfortable animal safari.

For our game drive, we visited Ngorongoro Crater, which was formed after a volcano erupted and collapsed about 2 million years ago. The crater is 2000 ft deep and 100 square miles (thank you Wikipedia) and inhabited by a huge selection of animals. After driving up the side of the mountain, we dropped into the crater. The road was extremely treacherous and one wrong move and you're off the edge. The was slightly unnerving, so I tried to distract myself by looking out the roof of the vehicle at the gorgeous scenery. This wasn't too difficult as this place is one of the most beautiful places I've been, which is saying something because I like to think I've seen a fair share of beautiful places. I'll post a picture and it won't do it justice, but when you find yourself in this enormous hole surrounded by green grass (don't get a lot of that in Nairobi), zebra, and bright sunlight, you can't ask for much more. The highlight of the day came with the interactive animal experience when a lurking eagle swooped down and snatched up my chicken leg right off my lunch plate as I tried to seek shelter back in the car. The look on my face was apparently priceless, and I seriously hope that bird enjoyed its lunch.

In case goat sacrifices and safaris weren't enough, we celebrated our last day in Tanzania with a hike up Mt. Kilimanjaro. I could end here and you'd probably be way impressed picturing the 15 of us at the summit, but I'll be honest, we didn't make it to the top. 2700 meters doesn't seem too shabby. but in actuality, we didn't really even make it on the mountain... We hiked to the first camp of what is known as the Coca Cola trail, for being the easiest route up the mountain. (The most difficult is known as the Whisky trail...) However, this is all relative, as the Coca Cola route to us seemed more like maybe the Tequila route. We had a great time, but we definitely paid for it the next day. Unfortunately it was cloudy at the summit so we couldn't really see the mountain from our highest point, but we did get some excellent views of scenic Tanzania.

We were all sad to leave the country and head back to the bustling metropolis of Nairobi to looming papers and ISPs, but all good vacations have to come to an end, just like this endless post, so I'll talk to you later!

Ali

Sometimes you just have to be a tourist...

Attempting to start a fire.

Not quite sure what part of the goat this was...

Sunrise over Kilimanjaro.

Everybody Poops

I'm overdue for an update, but I'm sorry to say that I really don't have any crazy adventures to share. For the last week, things have been all about ISP (independent study project). As part of our program, we're each required to complete an independent study during the month of April. We can pretty much study anything, go anywhere, and do anything...as long as we come back with a forty page paper at the end of the month. For the last few weeks we've all been stressed out trying to finalize our topics and make contacts. My adviser neglected to tell us that in Kenya in order to successfully get in touch with a person or organization, a call or email hardly ever works, and you often have to just go track them down in person. Thankfully, I got lucky...

Considering I've spent the past week writing my ISP proposal, I figure it's a good opportunity to share what I'll be doing next month. I came to Kenya knowing that I wanted to study something related to energy use and alternative energy. When you think of alternative energy, the big five come to mind – wind, solar, biofuels, hydropower, and geothermal. But, I can bet that when you think of alternative energy, you probably don't think about poop. But let's remember the wise words of Mama Ham - “poop is always funny”. And, if you're the Denver Zoo which has just unveiled its new poop-mobile (see here, courtesy of Alexa Freedman) or a rural Kenyan farmer for that matter, “never underestimate the power of poop”. So yes, for the month of April, I'll be studying energy from poop, more specifically, biogas digesters.

For my project, I'll be working with a business, Takamoto Biogas. My aunt in Michigan is good friends with the aunt of the guy who started the business (small world, right?), and she had given me his contact info before I headed off. My new friend Kyle is a recent Brown grad and started the company just about a year ago. He and his childhood friend Graham have worked hard to get the business up and running, and Kyle's sister Laura has also recently come over to help out. They also have an extensive local Kenyan staff. A biogas digester is essentially a big sealed hole in the ground that you throw a bunch of poop and other organic waste into (they say cow poop is best). You wait a while while bacteria eats away at the poop, and then you're left with methane gas which you can use for cooking and some really great fertilizer. So, for my project I'll be studying the economic and social impacts of biogas digesters on rural farms north of Nairobi. I'm very excited because it really means that I get to have a two hour matatu adventure every day, visit families to talk about their cow poop (among other things), and drink a whole lot of chai (Greg Mortenson's story is debatable, but he's definitely right about the tea). My goal is to visit about twenty sites throughout the month, so I don't think I'll have too much time to sit and pick disgusting black Nairobi boogers out of my nose.

In other news...in order to give us time to prepare for our ISPs, we haven't really had any formal classes this week, but we had a visit on Thursday...to America (sorry I didn't come visit you all). Actually, we just went to the US Embassy to visit the USAID offices, and I guess technically it is US soil (at least I think that's how it works), but if I were to have been drugged in America, taken to Nairobi, and woken up in that building, I would never have known the difference. How could you when there are US power outlets, American style bathroom stalls (you're questioning me, but really they exist), and automatic flushing toilets? It then became clear why Mr. Embassy who came to visit us during orientation had never ridden in a matatu and likely knew five words of kiswahili...

I'm sorry I don't have anything more exciting to share now, so you'll have to hold out for next week. We're leaving early on Sunday for our “educational” excursion to Tanzania where we'll be spending time in a Maasai village, going on some game drives, and climbing part of Mt. Kilimanjaro (be jealous). So I'll talk to you in April!

Ali

I will preface this post briefly with a few words just to let you know that I am safe. If you're like most of America and don't follow the news from Subsaharan Africa then you might ask why. (I don't blame you for this – the news giants need to get their acts together). Anyways, this weekend there was a small suspected Al Shabab attack near the city center. This definitely put us a bit on edge when we first heard about it, but we actually live pretty far from the city cetner and don't go there too often. At this point most Kenyans I've spoken with don't see this as a serious threat, but it certainly makes you remember the security we share at home.

In other news, this wee our schedule was a little bit different, giving us some extra free time. We had our kiswahili oral exams all day Monday and Tuesday. I strategically chose the second possible time slot on Monday, giving me plenty of time for extra adventures. A few of my friends and I decided we'd like to visit the Ngong Hills just outside the city. We had read that it was suggested you hire an armed guard to escort you through the park and I was rather sure that wasn't because the area is home to lions and other dangerous animals...this turned out to be a true assumption as the only animals we saw were goats, sheep, and a few cows. Regardless, after informing our academic director of our plans, he immediately got on the phone to enlist the service of a friend. He then gave me the phone number, instructed me to call when we were on our way, and the person on the other end would come to meet us and set us up with a guide. After picking up a picnic lunch from the grocery store, we were off!

I think this is now an excellent time to share with you a little bit about matatus. Matatus are 14 passenger vans used throughout Kenya and its major cities. (The 14 passenger limit really means 17 or 18). Each van is numbered and follows a specified route (don't ask to see a map) and many matatus have really gangsta names while also proclaiming God is great and similar sentiments all over the windows and sliding door. They blast music and if you happen to be riding at night, which you shouldn't in Nairobi because it's not safe, you may be lucky to find yourself in a matatu with some groovy neon lighting. In this way, matatu is synonymous with party bus, but in another way, a matatu is all business. The driver and conductor work together with the goal of bringing in as much money as they can. For the driver, this means driving as fast as you can, in any lane (that is if you choose to use the road), and dodging anything that comes between you and the prize. For the conductor, this means yelling loudly anytime the van makes a stop in order to find more passengers, and if it's already full, no need to worry, he'll find a way to squeeze you in. The conductor is also responsible for effortlessly orchestrating the fare collection and drop off of each passenger. With a few taps on the van's metal frame he communicates with the driver to stop, and a few more taps signals to go.

On first observing a matatu in action, I felt that this venture was complete and total chaos. How could you possibly know which number to take? How would you know how much to pay? Etc. Since this time, I have come to very much appreciate matatu culture, and I have found that instead of the total chaos I had thought, matatu operation is highly choreographed organized chaos.

So, if it wasn't clear from the long digression, we chose to take a matatu to the Ngong Hills. Who needs amusement parks when you can instead pay 50 cents to wind your way up and over steep hills on Kenya's narrow roads? Upon arrival we agreed it didn't matter if our hike worked out because we had already had a great matatu ride. Soon after arriving in Ngong Town we met up with our tour guide/body guard. However, we were unaware that the hills were actually quite a distance from the town center, and we would need more than a matatu or our own two legs to get us there (thank you internet travel sites for your insufficient reviews). But in Kenya it's all about the Kenyattas, so after shelling out way more than we would have liked, our new friend Jackson went to collect his car and we were on our way. We drove high into the hills along a narrow dirt road. The small sedan circa 1995 was already struggling, then we hit the serious off-roading. Just as I had imagined my grandfather's disapproval regarding our boating safety a few weeks ago, this time it was my Sharrigan grandfather's cringe as we tried to drive over a series of rocks protruding from the “road”. After hearing the awful grinding noses of the car on the rocks, I can only imagine what the undercarriage looks like.

While all of us were a bit on edge regarding our driver's renegade tactics, we quickly became distracted by the view. Not only were we impressed by the view of the plains below, but we also found ourselves within a wind farm, driving beneath the massive turbines of seven of the giants. (I will say, I now understand people's concerns about turbine noise and shadow flashes.) We parked right by one of the turbines, took our lunch, (Jackson took his club) and we started our hike. After building up an appetite we stopped for a lunch of cheese and crackers, green beans, and apples. This was quite a luxury because not only did we have cheese, but having bought our lunch from the upscale grocery store we decided to forgo the boil it, peel it, cook it, or forget it rule and enjoy our green beans raw and crunchy. I'll let you know if that was a good decision later... While eating, I was reminded of our hike up Fragrant Hill this past summer in Beijing. In both cases we stopped for a scenic picnic, except this time we took an armed guard. And by armed I mean he was carrying a stick. I don't mean to scare you with all this guard talk (yes, Grandmother, that means you to!) but “Nairobbery” doesn't occur just within the city center, and thieves are notorious for preying on both tourists and locals alike up in the sparsely populated hills – thus the guard.

After lunch, we hiked back down the hill, while also heading over to the other side in order to see the view of the city. Although you don't hear about Nairobi with cities like Beijing, Shanghai, (or any city in China for that matter), or LA for its environmental problems, the city has a serious problem with pollution. This became evident as we looked out onto a hazy horizon of smog. But we could just make out the city center. Satisfied , we returned to the car to head home. After stalling out more than a few times and just barely starting again, the car managed to get us back to Ngong Town where we climbed aboard another matatu for yet another crazy, exciting ride.

Our trusty guard, Jackson.

Thumbs up to alternative energy!

Picture Time!!!!!

I stayed late at the office today and the internet was super fast because no one else was using it, so I figured I'd take the opportunity to upload a few photos. (I'm sorry, I have no idea why this is blue and underlined...)Here's a group shot in Shirazi. I apologize for my friend Lily picking her nose...but please note the attire. Our mothers loved to dress us, and let me tell you, that blue get up I've got on was not at all breathable in the 90+ heat...

One of my jiggers in all its glory.

In Shirazi with my host mother on the left and my sister on the right. The hat was a gift from the family...

Food is Love

Before leaving for Kenya, some of my more culturally insensitive friends would joke asking “Ali, but what are you gonna eat in Africa? You're gonna starve!” Well, I can confidently say that I have done just the opposite. I've eaten a lot of great things, as well as some not so great things.

Here are some of my favorites:

- chapati – this is essentially the Kenyan equivalent to naan, except it has way more artery clogging potential. I often helped my Mama in Shirazi make it, and I'm excited to try myself back in the US. The cooking process involves mixing the dough (don't forget the lard), dividing it up into fist sized balls, and then rolling the balls out flat. The first time I made chapati, I was under the assumption that once you rolled out the dough into circles you were ready to cook it. However, I was unaware of the most critical step in which you paint the circle with oil, cut it in half, roll into a snake, then roll again into a cinnamon bun shape, but instead of cinnamon you've got cooking oil. Then, you ready to roll the now grease soaked dough out into another circle and cook it. And don't forget to add a few spoon fulls of oil as the chapati cooks to nicely brown the dough and add a few more calories.

- mandazi – add some yeast to fried dough so it puffs and instead of huge circles cut the dough in small triangles, and you've got mandazi (except there's no powdered sugar). But what's not to love?!

- mangoes – I will be seriously disappointed to return home and purchase a mango for wayyyy more than they cost in Kenya and discover that it doesn't taste nearly as delicious. I often buy a mango on the way to school for a quarter to eat with my lunch. I've tried experimenting with mango cutting techniques, but so far I've been most successful by peeling the fruit, going outside, eating it like an apple, and making a huge mess. After a long morning of kiswahili lessons, this is an immediate pick me up.

- matoke – Kenyans call these green bananas in English. I'm not quite sure if this is correct, or if they're actually plantains. Or maybe plantains are green bananas? I don't know...but regardless of what they are, they're tasty! They're cooked with garlic, onions, peppers, and tomatoes, and after adding some water, the tomatoes reduce into this nice sauce. I'm also looking forward to making these in the states if I can get my hands on some green bananas/plantains/mystery food.

- tea – the tea I've had in Kenya is some of the best I've ever tasted. My mama in Nairobi makes it for me every morning before school. It's made with both water and milk and she usually adds some cinnamon or ginger which I think is why it tastes so good (and don't forget the heaps of sugar – Kenyans love their sugary tea). Mama let me make the tea the other day and it wasn't nearly as good as hers, so I'm really hoping I figure out her secret before I head home.

This list could be a lot longer, but I won't bore you. Here are a few of the least favorite:

- rice bread – I enjoyed this the first time I had it in Shirazi. Of course I was disappointed to find out that this was all we'd be eating for dinner, but it tasted pretty good. However, the second time around I was less than pleased. Rice bread has this very porous consistency, and I think that it's supposed to be pretty light, however when you're cooking over a fire I think it's sometimes hard to control, and the bread was incredibly dense, leading it to sit like a brick in my stomach.

- sweet spaghetti – I had this for breakfast on my last day in Shirazi, and I'm really sorry but I found it to be truly vile. I didn't watch my Mama make it, but my sister said it had both coconut and sugar. I felt like I was in Elf when Will Ferrell puts maple syrup, sugar, and any other sweet he can find all over his plate of pasta, except he very much enjoyed the experience.

I'm happy to say that that's all there is on the bad list. I hope this gives you a taste (no pun intended) of some Kenyan culinary highlights. In other news, I had three more jiggers, making the grand total 5! The program record is apparently close to 30, so I'm hoping not to compete with that.

Also, I need your help! I have to choose between going to Uganda or Tanzania in a few weeks. Uganda highlights include seeing the source of the Nile and a gorgeous waterfall hike, while in Tanzania there's a Masai village homestay, hike to Camp 1 of Mt. Kili (and complementary I climbed Mt. Kili t-shirt) and trip to Ngorogoro Crater. What do you think?

Ali

Coastal Adventures

Well, it's been far too long since my last update, so I apologize for that. We've spent the last two weeks on the coast, the first in a small village called Shirazi and the second in Mombasa. I loved both of these places, making me realize how much I maybe don't like Nairobi. (It's the New York of Kenya. People mean business, and you'd never greet a stranger you pass on the street.) But I had a great time on the coast and in Shirazi. It's a small isolated village that if you were to quickly see a picture of, you might mistake it for a resort in Fiji or something of the sort. Coconut trees dot the skyline, and palm frond thatched roofs are the norm. But life in Shirazi is no relaxing vacation. With no running water or electricity, life is tough. While learning Kiswahili, I was curious as to why the language had a verb meaning to be tired, as opposed to the English where you use the adjective tired along with the verb to be. Well, I quickly realized that to be tired definitely deserves it's own verb in Kiswahili because if working all day to prepare the next meal doesn't make you tired, doing so in a 90 degree room next to an open fire definitely will. There's something to be said for when stirring the pot of ugali (staple food of Kenya, made from maize flour, consistency of playdough) is way more of a workout than the game of volleyball you played earlier that day.

Overall, my experience in Shirazi was excellent. My host family was kind and welcoming, and the week offered a great opportunity to practice my language skills. However, I'll be honest. The week had a few disappointments...here they are...

1) I broke my nearly six year no vomiting streak. My last bout of upchucking came in 9^th grade when we went to see Spamalot at the Colonial Theater. I spent the second act thinking about how I maybe didn't feel so great, then proceeded to run out of the theater after the show and puke behind a dumpster on Boston Common. This time was also fairly comical as my host sister is apparently a domino puker, so I found myself in good company as we both sat there looking at our lunch for the second time. After about 24 hours of some more puking and explosive diarrhea, the miracle drugs kicked in and I was thankfully able to recover quickly.

2) Let's be honest, my toenails are less than aesthetically pleasing. Just think of that Lamasil ad with the little dude who climbs under a toenail and makes himself at home. Need I say more...? Well, over the past six months my toes have been aided by a second miracle drug (not to be confused with the diarrhea drugs) and they were looking great. That was until my Shirazi sisters broke out the henna. I watched them make it themselves using the henna plant, lime juice, and tea. They then told me to sit down and they each took a foot. Part of me felt like a Shirazi princess getting a luxurious pedicure, but another part of me know understood what it was like for my teachers in the Lower School when they'd let me do their hair at recess. Except my sisters in Shirazi are 22. So, after about an hour of lying on the ground, I had my Shirazi name, Amina, written on one hand, a heart turned into a bell pepper on the other, and my fingernails and toenails covered in henna. Much of it has faded on my skin, but I'm sad to say that I'll likely have to wait another six months until I can enjoy some clean, natural toenails.

3) Speaking of toe health, my last disappointment of Shirazi was another living thing looking to make itself at home in my feet. This time, it was a jigger (two actually). These little creatures apparently burrow themselves into your skin, then start laying eggs, resulting in a little raised bump. And, this can occur whether or not you wear closed toed shoes, which I did for pretty much the entire week as suggested. I guess if you don't catch them early they can grow pretty big, lay more eggs, etc., but I'd rather not think about it. They're fairly common along the coast, which means that everyone is an expert at removal. I realized my jiggers once we were back in Mombasa while sitting in class one morning. And not only was I surrounded by jigger removal experts, but our class was on health in Kenya and was being taught by a doctor, so he was able to oversee the removal process. It's really no more difficult than taking out a splinter, except you have to be careful not to burst the sack of eggs resulting in jiggers drifting through your blood stream. Fortunately things came out fine, except I was really close to adding another episode to my puke history as I watched this little white ball emerge from my toe, thinking about the little bugs inside. And don't worry, the process was well documented with pictures! (If I happen to find myself especially patient, maybe I'll try to upload one).

One might actually consider these events highlights, myself included, so here are a few more to add from my past two weeks.

1. I finally caved for some American cuisine and ate a burger. It was incredible!

2. Took a ride on a piki piki (motorcycle) through Shirazi to a neighboring village. I'm always excited for an opportunity to channel my inner John Sharrigan.

3. Got three marriage proposals in one day in Mombasa – I'd call that a success!

4. Made it home from our boat trip after our engine malfunctioned and we were left to drift for a while. There were about 15 of us in this canoe shaped skiff which we had taken to a huge sandbar known as Paradise Lost. We joked and said that this should definitely be called Paradise Found because it was so gorgeous, but we soon realized the reason for the name as the sandbar was swallowed by the oncoming tide. So, after quickly grabbing all of our things and hopping back in the boat before the land completely disappeared, the engine soon malfunctioned. And obviously there were no life jackets on board, the boat did not appear especially stable, and it was particularly windy on this day and the surf was a bit rough. I could only imagine Pop rolling over at the bottom of the Thread of Life at our lack of proper safety. But luckily after a large “oh shit” moment and a few minutes of drifting, our captain was able to restart the engine and we were off. (That was definitely not the only “oh shit” moment for me as we fought the surf on our way home, but this was likely only due to my occasional boat anxiety, ie – sailing on Blue Skies).

5. Ate enough carbohydrates in Shirazi for a small army. This is no place for the Atkin's diet!

6. Lost a little faith in humanity waiting on the bus for three hours in order to take the ferry out of Mombasa. The city is technically an island (who knew!) and there's a bridge allowing access from the north, but because of the port present on the southern end, the country has not been able to construct a bridge which will still allow access to the port for the massive ships that come through. So instead, they have two ferries that continuously come back and forth, carrying cars, trucks, buses, and pedestrians to and from the mainland. Sounds like an acceptable alternative, but when you have to sit in line for three hours (no exaggeration) on a bus with no air conditioning, feeling hotter than you've ever felt in your entire life, this operation is simply laughable. If/when I one day make billions, I will personally fund the building of a bridge, no questions asked.

After a great two weeks, I'm now safely back to Nairobi, quickly adjusting back to the fast paced life of the city. I hope you all have enjoyed some snow in the states while I was struggling through the oppressive heat and humidity of the coast!

Ali

Kibera and an evening out

After a long few days of kiswahili classes and lectures on the history of Kenya, we took a field trip on Friday to Carolina for Kibera. The NGO operates in Africa's largest slum known as Kibera. They run health, education, employment, and sports programs within the slum and manage to reach over 40,000 in some way. Walking into the slum, we were taken down Obama Ave. marked by a sign above the small pathway with “Welcome Senator”, where he apparently visited before his presidency.

We learned about the organization's programs as we walked through the tiny paths between the community's homes. It was fascinating to learn about their complex mapping and record keeping system. Every person or family associated with the organization receives an ID card which can be scanned by a handheld device at the clinic for instance, giving a worker or volunteer the person's health history, information on their family, etc.

Walking through Kibera, we stopped first at the clinic, then moved further into the slum, to a workshop associated with the orgainzation's recycling program. Here, men take old animal bones and turn them into jewelry. Walking into the workshop I was glad I don't have asthma, because I breathed in a whole lot of bone dust... After a short briefing by one of the workers, we were shown some finished pieces for purchase (which we all took advantage of). Waiting for our classmates to make up their minds, the rest of us continued to chat with some of the craftsmen working outside. I was immediately brought back to a memory in Egypt where we visited a rug factory where young girls were working and I had the opportunity to sit down next to one of the girls and tie a few knots in her rug. (I won't go into details about how the boss then made an offer to buy me after seeing my rug making capabilities...) This time, my new friend Kennedy showed me how to drill the tiny holes in the beads he was working on. Because the beads were pretty long and skinny, this required drilling from both sides. I tried about 5 or 6 times but couldn't get the holes to meet, so I decided to leave the work to Kennedy, but I was grateful he let me give it a shot.

After the workshop, we walked to see another one of the recycling projects being carried out for Carolina for Kibera. This room was full of old plastic bottles collected from the surrounding community waiting to be fed to the giant shredderator in the corner. The two men gave us a demonstration of the machine. My first thought was that Mike Rowe from Dirty Jobs would totally eat this place up, but maybe more so I was having flashbacks to my father “chowdering” his finger in a wood chipper. I thought for sure that I would see some chowder right there as the man fed the plastic into the chipper with only another plastic bottle. After the demonstration, I couldn't help but ask if anyone had seriously injured themselves using the giant shredder. Thankfully, the answer was no. (Sorry Dad, you have no company with the plastic recyclers of Kibera.) Our visit to Carolina for Kibera was really inspiring, showing what can happen when development comes from the people it benefits.

Far from the livelihoods of those in Kibera, we enjoyed our first real night out this weekend.

I should mention this economic disparity, because it is truly astounding. After spending the day in Kibera, walking through what was likely feces, witnessing serious poverty, I found myself that afternoon in what felt like the Northshore Mall, treating myself to the new it thing – self-serve frozen yogurt. This has become a weekly treat, and it's awesome, but a large part of me absolutely hates stepping foot in the mall because I walk inside and feel that I've just apparated out of Kenya. But regardless, back to our evening out!

Our plan was to ease into the Nairobi night scene by spending our first night out at Carnivore, a bar/club/restaurant frequented by many of the local expats. Just judging from the name, I'm sure you can tell that this is totally my kind of place. The restaurant serves the Brazil barbeque way – meat on swords, what more could you want?! However, you get what you pay for and we decided we weren't quite ready for a splurge, so we decided to stop in at a local pub for some drinks and food before heading out. Unfortunately this place didn't have any food, so we did have to break down for the food on the club side of the upscale establishment, but my overpriced burger was definitely worth it!

Now I'm sure you're getting bored and starting to wonder why I'm even bothering to tell you about this, but here's where it gets exciting. So we're sitting in this local pub drinking Tusker, the official Kenyan brew, when all of a sudden Peter, one of our kiswahili language teachers, walks in. This was exciting enough, but then he offers to drive us to Carnivore when we tell him our plan. How many people can say that they're professor brought them to the club?! (You should know that we are instructed to use a particular driver whenever we go anywhere after dark, and apparently Peter works for him on the side, so it really wasn't that weird.) So, after an exciting ride to Carnivore with Peter while practicing some kiswahili, we payed the overpriced cover charge to get into the club. And come to find out, it's Bhangra night! We were clearly very early and it took a while for the place to fill up. This was another one of those cases where I felt that I was no longer in Kenya because my friends and I were the only non-Indians in the entire place. I made sure to show off my very limited bhangra skills that I've picked up from watching the UR Bhangra team, but we left the serious dancing to those who know what they were doing. To complement the dancing there were a few live music performances. Of course we had no idea who these people were, but it quickly became evident that these guys were legit, and in all honesty I think they were pretty famous. There was also no shortness of talent, and I especially enjoyed the traditional drum accompaniment. Every so often my friends and I would look at each other with the look of what-on-earth-are-we-doing-here, but I think we could all agree that the evening was totally worth the overpriced cover fee. It was certainly not a night we ever could have planned...

We're heading out to Mombasa at the end of the week for our rural homestay visit and other activities, so I likely won't post for a while. But hakuna matata, I'll be back soon!

Ali

Week One

My first week in Nairobi has come and gone, and only with the need for two Imodium pills, so I'd call it a success! Here are some highlights from the week.

• When I first touched down on Kenyan soil the official welcoming committee of about 30 zebras was there to meet me from my airplane window seat. What a treat!

• Continuing with the animal theme, our first day in Nairobi brought us to the city's giraffe center. Here we spent some quality time with Helen, Kelly, Laura, and their friends and I was lucky enough to get a big kiss from Laura. (There seems to be a theme of kisses from unexpected characters in Africa...) But don't worry, they tell us giraffe saliva is antibacterial.

• As part of our orientation activities, we took part in an exercise known as drop off. This is the urban equivalent of a wilderness solo in which you're dropped in the woods and told to fend for yourself (thank you Larry Griffin). On this challenge though, we worked in groups of three and four with the goal of finding out as much about the location we were dropped at until the bus returned a few hours later to pick us up. Students were left at hospitals, local NGOs, historic sights, and in my case, the University of Nairobi. The local students laughed when they found out our mission and the fact that we had only been in Nairobi for a day. But it was a great opportunity to put ourselves out there and begin to learn more about the city. Besides this, we've gone on a few other tours to get ourselves oriented in addition to listening to many endless lectures of things not to do in Nairobi. For example, don't eat the cookies they give out on the bus – they are drugged.

• I went for my first run above 5000 ft. They don't lie, the air is definitely thinner up here...it was rough.

• After a long week of living in various hostels, we finally moved in with our homestay families. My host sister and I spent our first afternoon together doing chores and listening to American pop music. In addition to my sister who is about my age, I also have a brother who just finished high school and our mother. There are two other kids in boarding school who I won't meet, and our father who works in Mombasa. The house is small, but comfortable and I'm really looking forward to my stay.

I think this just about sums up my first week in Kenya. This week, we start classes in earnest (that's right, I'm getting credit for this...) Looking forward to getting down to work!

And my sympathy goes out to all my fellow Pats fans. Didn't hear the details, but what more do you need....

Ali

We Hamlins like to consider ourselves pioneers in the blogging world. In 1999 we embarked on an excellent adventure to Egypt, Greece, and Rome, thanks to a generous grant from the Shore Country Day School, which allowed Dad to see and experience the ancient histories comprising his third grade curriculum. In the days of the late '90s when the world wide web was just landing in family homes, we thought our blog was pretty cool, allowing Dad's students and anyone else who cared to follow us on our adventure. While Dad did most of the the writing, here's an excerpt from my very own blogging debut, just for the fun of it.

“In Luxor we were walking back from McDonalds to our hotel. A man came up to me and grabbed me and gave me the biggest ever smooch, right on the lips. It felt awful. Yuch!”

This is an embarrassing account, but the fact that we had just been at an Egyptian McDonalds just ups the ante. I can't promise you anything quite this great during my latest blogging chapter, but I hope that I can share some good stories along the way.

Since the time of the original Excellent Adventure blog, there have been multiple spin offs to the series, including The NEW Mr. Hamlin's Excellent Adventure and The Hamlin's Excellent Sicilian Adventure, so I found it only fitting to continue the theme with The Little Hamlin's Excellent Adventure.

Now forget all this boring Hamlin history. For the next six months or so, my adventures will be bringing me to Africa. The first leg of my journey will take me to Kenya where I'll be participating in a study abroad program in health and community development. The program will take me to Kenya's capital, Nairobi, for a six week homestay. I'm not entirely clear on where I'll be and what I'll be doing for the other nine weeks, but I guess that's the purpose of the blog. If you're interested, you can read more about the program here.

After a busy semester in Kenya, I'll be traveling back to Malawi where I participated in the Malawi Immersion Seminar, a unique anthropology course offered by UR following my freshman year. I'll be traveling with the class once again while conducting an independent research project which you'll hear more about later.

And lastly, after about a month in Malawi, I'll be meeting up with my parents in South Africa for a week or two to cap off my African adventures.

Hopefully I'll be able to update you on my escapades about once a week, providing internet access, sufficient motivation, and free time. But for now, I'm enjoying my last few days in America before shipping off.