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