Flickr News

To anyone still tuned it: I won't be using this blog address anymore, but I hope that at some point I am able to dream up enough interesting material while in the United States to keep a blog again. In the mean time though, I plan on regularly updating Flickr with pictures I take around the Midwest... Mostly while hiking, and there will be plenty of plants. If you're interested, tune in to Flickr for now!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/30440787@N02/

Anyone reading anymore?

It has been a very long time since I've posted. Honestly, in these last two weeks, all I've done is my schoolwork and some errands. I went out a couple times to take my mind off things, but wow, it was mostly school work.

I finished my research paper, thank goodness. It was 52 pages long, and when it was bound like a little book, I felt so proud. (I'll post a short version of my findings in a little bit.) It was an entire semester of work. Interviews, focus groups, surveys, literature, and WRITING. It could have been better, of course. There were time limits, financial limits, etc. But I did the best I could given my circumstances. I'm hoping when I get back to the US that I can edit it and possibly use it for my senior thesis somehow.

I'm currently in the London airport. It breaks my heart a little bit to leave Kenya. I know it has to happen, and I'm ready for it. I did my year abroad, I miss home... But still, this experience is over. Life was so exciting, always adventurous, but also so relaxed. I already miss Kisumu. I had to try so hard not to cry (extremely inappropriate in Luo culture), but that family loved me and I loved them. They took such good care of me, and as much as they could, treated me like I was a member of their own family. It was a very authentic relationships, and we learned a lot from each other. I can't help but hope that I can go back to see them.

I was always closer with my Kisumu family, but it hurt to leave my Nairobi family too. While they had some very different beliefs than me (such as listening to the radio allllllll night), they also always looked out for me and just cared about my safety. They paid attention to my likes and dislikes and wanted to see that I was comfortable.

As I mentioned, it's the sense of adventure that I'll miss. There are so many interesting places to travel here, little things to do... I don't know how I can adapt to a more routine life. But I think I'll try mountain biking, and more skiing in the winter. Life should be enjoyable and interesting.

In short, my abroad experience was good. The program I'm with, MSID, had some serious issues. The academic aspect was extremely lacking, but I read so many books on my own that I learned a lot anyway. Plus, how could you not learn when you're living in Kenya for almost a year? I can see my flaws so clearly now. I don't know if I'm any closer to being a completely laid back person, but at least I am self-aware enough to know that I have work to do.

The London airport feels weird. Part of the reason that it feels weird is that it's so natural. But I'm very aware of everything. As soon as we got into the airport people were rushing me. I wanted to tell them to slow down, no rush! We're all going to end up in the same place! Somehow I don't think this mentality will really fit in the hyper-drive US. Caution: I may be a little lazy, or annoyingly late.
There are also a TON of shops here. And there are things I want to buy. American consumerism never really leaves you, does it? There are stores with cute clothes, Clinique make-up, and lots of books. I'll try to hold back.

So I'll be home by evening on Sunday, as long as the flights go as planned. How crazy will that be, to walk into my house, see my cats, lay on a bed with PILLOWS......Oh my god. Pillows and running water. I'm looking forward to it.

COCKROACHES

There are more in my laptop. I'm pissed. Chemicals will be used.

In other news... I'm back in Nairobi and out of Kisumu for good, unfortunately. I really loved that host family and enjoyed the city as well. But now all I have left to do is write my research paper (no small task) and then I can go home next Saturday.

I'm still alive!

Sorry for not updating much everybody. I'm really busy! I'm leaving Kisumu in less than a week, probably on Sunday actually. Which means I'm winding up with my internship, my friends, my host family, wow. I'm packing in some "domestic tourism," which in other words means "HAVE AS MUCH FUN AS YOU CAN NOW!" We're going on boat rides, eating fresh fish from the lake, visiting our families' rural homes, and swimming galore. We even had a bonfire by the lake. It's nice to do some of the things in Kisumu that I've always meant to do but never had the time to.

Once I leave Kisumu, I'll have less than two weeks in Nairobi. I have some presentations to give, a 50-100 page research paper to finish, gifts to buy, and more domestic tourism to accomplish. I don't think I'll travel at all, but I plan on hitting up the butterfly sanctuary and the national museum when I'm not writing about widow inheritance.

I will arrive in the United States of America! on April 26th at 2pm, if all goes as planned, which it never ever does. But if you want to see me, you can find me in Culver's stuffing my face with butter burgers, deep fried cheese curds, and strawberry shakes.

The Things I Love

My friends and I complain a lot while we're here, let's just be honest. Kenya can be tough. But I know for a fact that when I leave I'll miss it. So for my benefit in these last few weeks and for all of yours too, here is a list of things I like in Kenya.
-The fact that the sky is blue every single day, and the weather consistent. No need to check the weather, and you can wear the same clothes every day.
-Cheap and amazingly flavorful mangoes, papayas, pineapples, bananas.
-Roasted chicken! YUM!
-Brushing my teeth outside every morning.
-The ability to swim every day.
-$3 DVD's with an entire season of a TV show (just ignore the Chinese subtitles).
-"Pole pole:" a very relaxed culture! Feel free to be 2 hours late or not show up. In other words, I don't leave the house until ten every day.
-The stars are ridiculously bright wherever you are.
-Things are always interesting and exciting!

Bugs Version II

Oh man you guys. I think I've reached my bug tolerance. As you probably know, our toilet in Kisumu is just a hole in the ground surrounded by sheet metal. And lately, our cockroach count has been growing out there. During the day it's fine and I can use that toilet just fine. But at night... My goodness. Lately I've been seeing cockroaches bigger than my pinky finger! And usually I have to go out there twice while it's dark. Last night I saw three huge ones and refused to go in. Thank goodness my host mom told me at night I can just go potty behind the house from now on. Hopefully no neighbors see my white booty.

Police: 1 Stephanie: 1

That's right, I had another run-in with the police. But this time I won. (Read about the first time here: http://sspayneinkenya.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-brush-with-corruption.html)

Quite similarly to last time, I was in a taxi on a main road in Nairobi. I was with Alain (the guy I went to Rwanda with) and we were going out for a nice Italian dinner, so we were dressed nicely. And of course we came across a road block, quite typical in the Nairobi night. I hurriedly whispered to Alain that whoops, we weren't wearing our seatbelts (it was such a short drive, less than $3), but that these weren't traffic cops and I wouldn't bribe them at all, that I was going to be difficult. I'm not sure he got everything I said, but soon enough the cops were shining their lights on us and asking Alain to get out of the car. Of course, they asked for his ID but not mine. I could tell that they were debating the rules and if Alain and I should be let go. I motioned Alain over to me and told him to tell the policeman we were refusing any monkey business. Then Alain had an idea.

Alain's uncle is the Rwandan ambassador to Kenya (cool, eh?), and Alain has often accompanied him on interesting diplomatic trips, so he knew a little bit about those systems. Alain told me to pretend I was going to call "the office," and later to ask for the officer's name and registration number. I got out of the car and acted angry, and impatient. Eventually I took my phone out, and said, with much authority, "I'm going to call the office, this is ridiculous." Alain feigned annoyance. "No, don't do that, if you call them this will become a long ordeal!" Alain then spoke to the police in Swahili, saying, "If she calls her office, this will take so long, the diplomatic police are like that." I paced around a little bit with my phone in my hand, while the policeman hesitantly debated how much a bribe should be. Again, I picked up my phone, making a fake important phone call - "Can I have your name please? I think I really need to call the office." Once again Alain took the phone out of my hand, insisting that I shouldn't. The policeman looked from Alain to me and waved at us to get back into the car and go. Bribe free.

Chicken Update

A few people have inquired about the state of the chicken that was given to me as a gift - for dinner. My chicken, which I named Gweno (Luo for chicken), is alive and well! It has a "NO EAT" order on it's cute little head. When it came to me, it was really skinny and unhealthy and someone had plucked its tail feathers (how rude!). But now, it's chubby and shiny and full of feathers! It is also part of our family of chickens. I guess it has to stay in Kenya, but I will maintain that my family not eat it. Unfortunately, it won't make eggs until after I leave! Boo! But I love my Gweno anyway.

FINALLY!

I got my laptop back and I'm loading up tons of Rwanda pictures! Enjoy.

Homestead Update

Robbery on the homestead! The other day, three of our four goats (the she-goat and her two kids) were out and about looking for green grass to munch on. At 6pm, they didn't return home! My family searched and searched, for two days, and they were no where to be found. Turns out that many people have lost goats or sheep lately to a THIEF! Who sells the animals during the night! Unfortunately, losing any sort of livestock is a huge loss. They're an important investment here.

The same day, a baby sheep was born! How cute! So we sold the lonely he-goat and got another sheep. So 0 goats, 6 sheep. I preferred the goats.

The Basics: Inequality

I was brainstorming the other day on things that I could write about on my blog, and I realized that I've really skipped some of the most fundamental topics about Kenya. Things like poverty, religion, crime, etc.: These are so important and so obvious, but they are hard to talk about. First of all, I want to be fair and sensitive to the issues, and speak to them in a way that is accurate and politically correct. This is kind of hard right now, because what's considered impolite and polite here is SO different than in the US. Let me explain: Here, people don't act like we're all equal, because clearly we're not. Here, there are distinct classes. There are the poor, and the rich. And the poor wait on the rich and no one is uncomfortable with this. For instance, when I am at work, me and the boss will be given a soda. Me because I'm white, the boss because she's in charge. All the community health workers can look on and see that they are of a different "level," but this is accepted here. Of course at first, this made me really uncomfortable. I didn't want to be viewed differently, I wanted to "fit in!" YEAH RIGHT. Not possible here. I've had to let that go. If I try to push that I'm equal, it's actually considered very impolite. How dare I refuse that soda because 30 poor people are watching me! Now on the other hand, in the United States, we like to pretend we're all equal. We all say we're middle class, we deny racism, we hate to discuss inequal gender roles; and in many ways we are a much more "middle class" society in the US. In Kenya though, the differences are glaring instead of subtle.

My point here is that I've gotten comfortable with inequality. It doesn't shock me. I speak frankly about race, which can rub people the wrong way (with very good reason). On top of my desensitization, the vocabulary used in Kenya is quite different. You can outright call someone fat (I get it everyday), you can straight call someone "black" or "white" or "Indian," without the awkwardness there is in the US. To top off my discussion difficulties, I am so emotionally entrenched in these things. I have great bitterness about the way I'm viewed here, as a bag of money or a woman to receive cat calls. I have great bitterness about the government's blatant corruption, which is feeding my Kisumu family's poverty. So when I talk about things I can get angry.

I want to talk about these things though. I can't leave this country without explaining to all my family and friends exactly what the poverty is like, or without telling you how incredibly passionate religion is here. You would miss some of the most influential parts of this place. So this is what I will try to do in the next few posts: tell you the basics.

Mama Herine

I could write a short book about my host mom in Kisumu. Oh, amazing, funny, and harsh Herine. She is sort and generally petite, but strong in that she packs a big personality into her small body. She even offers to run with me in the morning. Her hair is kept short, because it saves money. She has the dark skin, thick hair, and high cheek bones that are characteristic of the Luos in Western Kenya. The first thing I noticed abot her is her voice - it's commanding to say the least. It's like no one taught her the difference between the "inside" and "outside" voice. Every animal on the whole homestead listens to her. A dog wanders in the house, and she yells in Luo, and it quickly exits. Even the chickens listen.

These commands are not limited to the animals. All of us kids in the house, including now myself, get scolded. Sometimes I walk around barefoot and that is simply not alright. Or maybe I need to come to the table immediately for tea! We regularly laugh and happily follow her orders.

Don't let this assertiveness let you think she's too harsh or not fun-loving. She loves a lot like she speaks - fiercely. She takes care of all six kids, including paying for six sets of very expensive school fees. She feeds us all, takes care of us when we're sick, and still works a full-time job as a maternity nurse. Een me, once I was nauseated in the middle of the night, and she sat with me for hours while I say complaining and spitting into a plastic bag.

There are other things she loves, like her chickens. She says they "really help me a lot," because they give us eggs and occassionally we eat a chicken. This is essentially free food and free protein, for a family that works a lot but doesn't have a lot of money. She always feeds the chickens in the house, which teaches them to hang out there. Once one tried to lay its eggs on her bed.

Once, my host-brother Issac was treating our house with very potent chemicals to kill the cockroaches. There was a small chicken that I named "the ugly duckling," because it was the last of 18 chickens that had lived, but it was very weak and missing quite a few feathers. I really liked this one and I fed it specially in hopes of it growing up healthy. But back to the cockroaches, the slow-moving ones that had chemicals on them were a feast for the chickens. Issac put the ugly duckling into the cupboard to let it eat the dying bugs. I warned him, fervently, that the duckling would die from eating the poison. Being a 17 year-old boy, he just laughed.

The next morning, the ugly duckling couldn't walk and was having seizures. Within the hour it died in Winnie's hands. I was annoyed, since I had been taking special care of this one and I admired its will to live. When Mama found out what had happened, she described her feelings: "Issac is too annoying! I don't even want to see him at all today. He's too stupid!"

There are things she often mentions, like how "African men are polygamous by nature" and even "bad creatures." She speaks of the goodness of her children and their willingness to work, whether it's in fetching water, cooking, building a fence, or planting trees. She hates that her concrete floor was poorly made and has disintegrated into dirt again.

She is my fiercest advocate and a good friend. We laugh, have frank discussions, and learn from one another. There is no other woman like her in Kenya.

Epilogue: The Househelp

It was a night in Gisenyi. I had the house to myself, everyone else had gone out to clubs but I was tired. I was in bed, almost asleep, when I heard something rustling around outside my window. I immediately froze, and my heart started thumping. Eventually the noise calmed down, and I snuck out of bed. I kept the lights off so I could see outside, and I crawled on the floor over to the window. I was as quiet as I could be. I looked outside my window and what did I see?

The househelp, sleeping outside in the cold lake wind, on cardboard, guarding the house.

The Househelp (it's a long one)

Having househelp is ubiqutous in the wealth circles of Africa. This isn't househelp like me cleaning a house, as I did in high school or during summers. In many cases, this is full-time, live-in, servent kind of househelp.

Until coming to Rwanda, I hadn't had much experience with this. When I returned to Nairobi after my first stay in Kisumu, my host-mom had acquired an old Luo lady to come Mon-Wed-Fri to do the laundry, clean up the house, and cook a couple of meals. I was ecstatic. This not only meant that my laundry would get done far more frequently than before, but that the disgustingly dirty, cock-roach infested house might improve a bit. Francisca, her name is, really only spoke Dholuo and did a decent job of the laundry. She often overstretched my clothes, but hey, I wasn't the one paying her, so I didn't think I could complain.

Once, in a funny combination of Dholuo, Kiswahili, and broken English, she told me she would love me very much if I gave her one of my lesos (leosos are handy pieces of cloth used as a skirt or shawl or towlen or table cloth or sheet - you get the picture). She had noticed, undoubtedly through doing my laundry, that I had 4. Two Kikoy ones, coastal woven cloth of fairy high quality, and two khangas, Tanzanian dyed cloth of somewhat lower quality. I really did have plenty. And I knew she lived in Kibera, the huge slum next door, was widowed with a gaggle of children, and definitely didn't have water or electricity even though she was living in one of the biggest, most developed cities in Eastern Africa. How messed up would it be for me not to give away something I could replace with less than $5? After about 10 seconds of thinking, I handed her a Kikoy leso I bought my first time in Lamu with David. She said God would bless me.

But in Rwanda, I've come across a whole other kind of househelp than before. The first house I stayed in in Rwanda was that of Alain's sister, Liliane (Alan and Lillian in English). The house has four bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a generous kitchen and sitting room. She was married, but in a sad turn of events, is now widowed and almost due with her first baby. So soon she'll need the space, but for now, it's a good place for the occasional out of town guests. In addition to Lily though, there are two permanent guests - a "houseboy," Mupenzi, and a "housegirl," Marie. Both speak only the mothertongue, Kinyarwanda, and are from the village, as people say here. They stay in the servants' quarters before the main house.

Mupenzi is sort of a guard, at night he guards the house (although I sort of doubt that), and he also opens and closes the spiked gate at the front of the house. During the day, he might cut the grass, with a special machete of course, or look after the plants. He also does random errands: getting phone credit, milk for mid-day tea, a taxi, or some roasted goat on a stick. Apparently he has been with Lil for three years, which is longer than she's kept anyone before.

Marie, who I saw a lot more, has quite the job, including cooking all three meals, cleaning the house, doing the laundry (don't forget it's done by hand here), ironing, and of course, waiting on all of us. With dishes and food, it was amazing - meals practically appeared out of thin air, whatever you want and whenever. And the food was good! Much better than Kenyan food. Barely any ugali, plenty of vegetables, nothing drenched in oil - yum!

They would always yell her name, at the top of their lungs, for her to bring them cheese, or beer (almost like WI, eh?), or God knows what. Lily said she liked her becuase she didn't need to be told what to do, she'd clean the rooms without a prompt. And her cooking's good. And after dinner she'll ask, "Lily, do you want tea?"

Marie is small, with about a centimeter of black hair. Lily says she's 27, but she looks about 20. She earns $50/month. She is given all her meals, housing, and even complete healthcare (this last part is very rare for a homeowner to give to a househelp). By Rwandan standards, this is awesome. But still, $50 of expendible income? Undoubtedly she sends most of it to her family, wherever they are. Maybe she has children, maybe she doesn't.

I don't know if this politically correct or not, but being waiting on, especially by a very poor person who I can only say "thank you" to, makes me super uncomfortable. I feel guilty that I'm reading a Jodi Piccoult novel and drinking beer while she works her butt off. Heck, the novel was practically half her monthly income. I feel guilty that she's doing all this work I know I'm perfectly capable of doing myself. Granted, I never yell her name, I put my own dishes away, and I Try to get her to smile a little. She tends to look very serious. When I ask Alain, or really any African about these gross inequalities, they all pretty much say the same thing: "that's just the way it is here."

Rwanda in Conclusion

After another tedious bus ride, I have returned to Kenya. I'm glad to be back, if only because most of the time I understand what people are saying, I am fluent in Kenya Shillings, and I know my way around.

Rwanda is, like I've said before, gorgeous. So fertile, so green, so hilly... Wow. I saw so many amazing things while I was there. I saw a volcano that was steaming, and at night, the top glows orange! Talk about freaky. I saw funny things, like a baby sitting in the middle of a field with no mother around. (Baby looked happy though.) I also saw a goat on the back of bicycle. Another interesting thing: Alain and I were walking down the street in Gisenyi and two huge trucks full of very worn-down looking people with the UN Refugee Agency symbol on it. Alain told me about how the Hutus that committed crimes in the genocide had ran to the Congo to hide afterwards, but now they are being resettled. I asked Alain how he felt about it, and he said fine. I told him I was surprised he wasn't afraid, or mad. He said that the only thing that worried him was that the children of the Hutus wouldn't be socially educated like most people in Rwanda now - most people now believe that they are Rwandese, not Hutus or Tutsis (he calls himself Rwandese, not Rwandan, which I find strange but hey, it's his country).

Later we were on the bus from Kigali to Kampala, Uganda, and a lady got on the bus who was also very worn-down, in fact she wasn't wearing any shoes. She had clearly walked for days, and so some people gave her biscuits, we gave her juice, another man gave her some little money. I didn't get the whole story because it was told in Kinyarwanda, but somehow a bus left her and she walked for like 60 kilometers. Later Alain said that he thought she was a Hutu refugee like the ones in the trucks, and that she was probably being accused of crimes during the genocide. (Community courts in small towns are still full of cases of accused killers from the genocide.) He figured she was fleeing. Now, I have no idea how Alain got all that. She probably was a Hutu, but who knows. But no matter what, he thought that was her situation, and he gave her some food and drink anyway. That's how the Rwandese are now, after a genocide. It's fascinating.

I got a unique look into the Rwandese mindset about politics, Africa, corruption, and of course, the genocide. Because I was always staying with families and being with Rwandan people (I didn't talk to a mzungu face-to-face for almost two weeks, my god!), I was able to talk about a lot of things with a lot of people. I was lucky that way.

Another interesting thing is that I can really compare how different governments affect different countries in Africa. For instance, Rwanda is peaceful, safe, and is developing quickly. That's because the government isn't completely corrupt and irresponsible like Kenya's. Rwanda is still very poor, but the government is TRYING. That leads the people to have more faith, I figure, and maybe that's why crime is so much less there. Although the government is good, it's definitely less developed than Kenya. Getting money was a constant problem wherever I was. There are few ATMs, and the existing ones are frequently broken. Additionally, they are not 24 hours but only open when the bank is, so like 9am-4pm. I had to do some weird "cash advance" junk that took about an hour. Anyway, returning to Kenya was good, but a bit depressing too. Immediately I got the "mzungu" BS, and the streets were dirty, and the driving was crazy... Rwanda was just so beautiful and nice. I'd love to stay more time there someday, but I don't think it will be for a few years.

Gisenyi

Today is my last day in Gisenyi, a very small town in Rwanda on Lake Kivu. Gisenyi is at the border of the Congo, with it's sister city Goma. The city is beautiful, and so quiet. The entire city borders the lake, so at anytime you can go have lunch or beer on the lake. And it's just so quiet for an African city, it isn't bustling at all. There are barely any cars. The food is delicious. There are brochettes everywhere (roast meat on a stick, seriously delicious, I'm getting fatter everyday), deep-fried little fish (also surprisingly delicious), and plenty of fresh chips (okay, french fries) to go around.

We're staying at a friend's house on the lake. The funny this is, this guy has a four bedroom house for about $300 dollars a month. It's a huge, beautiful house, and it's so cheap. If I'm ever filthy rich, this is the city my vacation home would be in. The lake is very clean and a good temperature in which to swim. What more could you ask for?

I've really just been relaxing here. Sleeping, eating, looking forward to the next meal... I've also been writing a lot of blogs for the future on all sorts of topics, so stay tuned!

Two other quick pieces of news:
1) My laptop is in Nairobi, but I won't be back there for a while, so I won't be able to upload any photos for a few weeks.
2) I'm fairly certain I'll be coming home at the end of the program. It costs a fair bit of money to change your ticket to a later date, and I don't really have any travel partners. This isn't 100%, but if I do come home at the end of the program, I'll be home April 26th or 27th. Did you hear that Grandpa?

Rwanda Update

First off, I'm healthy and happy. I'm still in the capital city of Kigali. Saturday was "community clean-up day" here in Kigali, when everyone helps clean up the trash, trim the trees, cut the grass, fix the roads, etc. This happens every last Saturday of the month. Every single business closes, even informal little shops selling tomatoes, and most people help. The work ends at eleven but everyone just relaxes. What a far cry this is from Kenya.

And I forgot to mention this but my friend Dan reminded me, that they confiscated all my plastic bags at the border. They actually search through everyone's baggage at the border to ensure none enter the country. I lost three. Funny thing is, I hoard them in Kenya because they come in handy for trash, muddy shoes, or just plain transport, so I was pretty annoyed to hand them over. But once you're in the country, you can't find them either. Even a loaf of bread comes in waxy paper instead of plastic. I like this place!

Additionally and pleasantly, it has rained every day I've been here. Most Africans I have met hate rain. They won't leave the house, they'll run inside, they freak out and think they'll die if they get wet. So Alain and his sister hate the rain, but for me, I think it's wonderful! I haven't seen rain in Kisumu in weeks, and the ground looks like it's been years. The goats and sheep are having trouble getting enough food, and now we feed them our mango peels and our kale stems. They're losing weight. And when it doesn't rain in Kisumu, we can't collect rain water and that means more laborous trips to the river. I never realized how incredibly important rain is to people's and animals' survival.

Tomorrow I'll be traveling to Gisenyi, a small town on Lake Kivu. There we'll stay with another friend of Alain's and probably just relax on the lake most days. This is very much a holiday for me; I've been sleeping late every day and taking my time before going anywhere. I'm reading some novels my mom brought me at Christmas and catching up on the news.

I had really wanted to go to a national park, but it's very difficult and quite expensive. First of all, you have to get there somehow, which is many cases means you need a car. Public transportation here isn't as thorough and widespread as it is in Kenya. Once you get there, most parks require a 4x4 vehicle because of large game animals as well as bad roads. And there are park entrance fees, which for the cheapest type of park is still $70. Then most are so far away you need accomodation, which you need to reserve far in advance. It's just a bit too difficult and expensive. The only other alternative would be to do a full-out safari, which again, is expensive.

In the African countries I have traveled to, there isn't the same "nature infrastructure" that is all over the US. In Wisconsin, I can drive out to Devil's Lake in an hour, pay $7 to get into the park, and hike to my heart's content. Here, there is nowhere you can do that. Walking trails are few and far between, and Alain and his family think it's nuts that I'd want to do that. Everyone here says to me, "don't you want to see animals?" And I say, "Trees are nice!" And I'm officially nuts. Most parks, except for two in allllll of Kenya, require a vehicle. And even if you have your own car, you really need a guide or you'd get lost. There aren't maps, or signs. So seeing nature is tough, outside of the frequent farm land that is outside of cities.

But none the less, I'm eating lots of Rwandan food, meeting tons of people, and doing normal errands around the city with a family. That's an amazing experience all in itself.

Land of a Thousand Hills

After a fairly tortuous but interesting 25 hour bus ride, I'm in Kigali, the capital of Rwanda. This is the farthest I've gone from Kenya, and my first real travel out of my host country.

I'm traveling with Alain, a Rwandan I met in Nairobi and have become close with in the past few months. I'm lucky enough to have his and his family's support in Rwanda. That means someone to travel with, a house to stay in, real fresh hot Rwandan food... All for free. And someone to keep me safe! And show me the awesome restaurants! I'm lucky for this.

Let me provide some quick anecdotes about the bus ride. As usual, any traveling in Africa is filled with strange events. For instance, our first bus driver was absolutely crazy. He drove so fast that I worried for my life! But somehow we made it to Kampala, Uganda. Some crazy crazy lady was sitting behind us and would NOT close the window and night, and nights in Africa, at least in a lot of places, are damn freezing and I was so unhappy because my bones were cold. We ate two giant plates of Pilau (spiced rice with beef chunks) on our way through, because somehow that was all that was available. Alain and I drank a lot of soda and ate a lot of cookies. Bus rides are definitely an excuse to eat bad food.

We crossed the border to Rwanda around 11am. Rwanda is clean, green, calm, hilly, and incredibly beautiful. I haven't been here very long and I can already see how DIFFERENT it is from Kenya. No garbage, I'm not getting hassled, there is an actual speed limit with police officers you cannot bribe, and people seem NICE. I have a good impression so far. I don't know how much it is appropriate to talk about this stuff, but it seems impossible that there was a genocide here 15 years ago. Only thing is there are a lot of amputees. Anyway, we arrived around 3, perhaps, at Alain's sister's house in a very nice neighborhood a bit from from downtown Kigali.

Last night I was completely exhausted from not sleeping well on a bus that went all night. I feel a LOT better this morning. While we're here, we'll spend a couple days in a national park, a couple days in Gisenyi on Lake Kivu, and plenty of time here in Kigali. I'll keep everyone updated!

Dispatch from the Field

I had one of my most interesting days in Kenya this week. It was a very long day out in the field. This week I'm making a huge push in research work; I'm interviewing tons of people, holding focus groups, etc. So Tuesday I interviewed over 30 people for my project. Right now it is wildly hot in Kisumu; I drink about two liters of liquids a day but I pee once in the evening. Often at the end of the day my head hurts, and I'm pretty sure I'm dehydrated. But it was very interesting to hear people's family histories about polygamy, or their stories about refusing to be inherited when they become widows because they are HIV positive. Luos are notoriously welcoming. This hospitality is nice, but can also drive you crazy. Every house you go to, you can't leave without taking at least two cups of tea and eating a couple of chapatis. I ate so much that day that I felt ill at the end and refused to eat dinner at home. The hospitality went so far that someone gave me a grand gift in Luo culture: a chicken. My first chicken gift! I was honored. I carried it all day, with tied feet, with it's head sticking out of a plastic bag. I was supposed to eat it, but when I got home, I just couldn't bare to! So now it's my pet chicken. It has lots of chicken friends on our homestead though. I named my chicken "gweno," which is the Luo name for chicken. Haha!

So later in the day, while still out in the field, I FINALLY had to go to the bathroom after drinking all that tea. So I went out to someone's pit toilet. As I was finishing and standing up, the floor caved in under me, and my left side fell into, well, shit. I yelled quite loudly and the head of the household came running to help me out. It was definitely gross and I cut my leg a bit.

That said, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Obviously, it was a badly build toilet so it wasn't dug that deeply and wasn't even used that much. Sometimes homes are required by the chief to build a toilet, so they build a bad one just for show. The one that is at my host family's house is 12 feet deep, and used everyday by at least 6 people, so you can imagine that falling into that would be a much bigger deal. Mostly now it's a funny story.

And I'm still alive and looking forward to more days in the field.

Another blog...

I found another MSID blog! This student is Alana, she's also in Kisumu... Enjoy! I really like this one.

http://nimadikwakiswahili.blogspot.com/

I'm still alive!

Hello everyone! Worry not, I am still alive. Just a bit busy lately. My midterm seminar for school, where we present our on-going research, begins Monday of next week. So I'm making a big push to get a lot of interviews, surveys, and focus groups done. It's a bit stressful. In Kenya, especially the rural areas, time has a seriously rubber component that can cause quite a bit of trouble for someone trying to schedule more than one thing per day. But I'm trying, partly because I want to have something to show at the seminar, but also because after one week of seminar, then one week of spring break, there are only five weeks of field work before we go back to Nairobi for good. Wow. And there are only two weeks at the end in Nairobi, so the end is in sight. I definitely have a fair amount of time left, but the fact that I'm more than halfway done is certainly becoming clear now.

That said, my plans for spring break are just about finalized. I don't remember if I mentioned it before, but I am going to Rwanda and Burundi. Yes, they're safe these days. The genocide is long over. There are rebels in both countries from the DRC but the areas where they are I cannot go. Neither country has a travel warning so strong that my University would forbid me from going (for instance, the U will not allow me to travel to Somalia or Afghanistan). I'll be with a group of Rwandans that I know so it'll be safe! I'm looking forward to finally seeing more of East/Central Africa before I head home.

Things that get to me

Before coming to Kenya, I knew I would see poverty and a harsh way of life. I thought it would bother me a lot, that I would have to condition myself to handle the sights I would see. I even imagined myself (notoriously sensitive to anything mildly disturbing and sometimes self-righteous about it) coming home crying on various occasions.

That has never happened. It was like as soon as the plane landed I grew a thick calloused skin. Poverty and death barely fazed me. In my first weeks I saw street children, barefoot with dirty clothes; people with open wounds begging on the roads; and wheelbarrows of goat heads. I've heard of young deaths, brutal mob deaths, and orphans taking care of countless younger orphans. It has been shocking at times, or maybe a little disturbing, but never as devastating as I had imagined. I don't know why this is.

There are however, a couple things that have gotten under my skin. The first is the treatment and condition of animals on the homesteads in Kenya. Cats and dogs are kicked when they are in the way. They are fed once a day, meager scraps, often mostly maize meal and broth. They are so skinny, they often don't look like they're able to have offspring, although they have some and sometimes a few live. For example, we had a puppy here in Kisumu named Rumi. It was super playful and super cute. It was the son of one of our adult dogs. When I came back from Nairobi, it was so thin, I knew it wouldn't live. I came back the next day and it had died. I was fairly upset, and when I showed that sentiment, my family laughed at me. Their animals die frequently; to even be able to feed them is an extreme privilege. It still hasn't gotten to me that much, maybe because if it did I'd never survive here.

The other thing is the boda-boda drivers, the men (yes, always men) that ride rickety old bikes with you on a cushion on the back. They will take you on a 30 minute ride for about 30 or 40 shillings, which is about 50 cents. And I weigh 68 kilos, and we're in an equatorial climate, so you can imagine how NOT easy it is. Sometimes they take me uphill. And it's all because I'm too lazy to even walk in the heat. In particular there is one boda driver that knows me. He has a brand new baby daughter, no phone, no other job, not even a watch. When I tell him to come at 8:30, he comes based on the position of the sun (he's surprisingly accurate). But he'll take me SO far for so cheap. And I know I shouldn't pity him, I'm a good source of business, but the fact that I pay this man less than a dollar to carry my lazy butt all over makes me feel guilty as hell and I can't help it.

Beyond that, I handle the sights and stories with more callousness than I would have expected. I'm not sure what else I can do.

New Photos

Again, just a few.

Safari pictures have arrived!

Enjoy them on Flickr.

2009 and five months in-country

The month of January has come to a close --- how did that happen? Where did the month go?

I'm back in Kisumu and back at my internship. It was a difficult transition, I have to be honest. Going from the big city to the bush is always a bit of a shock, especially because of the pace change. I really have to turn my patience on. Everyday at work, and even at home, I have to encourage myself to be patient or open, otherwise I'd go crazy with the lack of punctuality and efficiency. But I'm developing a virtue I certainly did not have in the US!

Otherwise, January has been a month of interesting firsts. To start with, I got typhoid this month. I actually just got over it yesterday. One day I woke up in the morning not feeling so hot. My stomach was messed up and I had a headache. But I didn't sleep that well so I didn't think much of it. Throughout the day my stomach continued to hurt and I started to feel worse. But I went to the park with Sarah and Jen for a picnic. When I stood up to go home, I knew that something was seriously wrong. I couldn't walk, I felt incredibly nauseated, and all of my muscles hurt. I suddenly had to lay down, yes, in the middle of the park, with shoeless street children looking at me like I was crazy. My friends got me a vehicle and took me to the hospital. They took a blood test and told me I had a bacterial infection and that I had to take a broad spectrum antibiotic.

I took the medicine. As soon as the medicine was over, I started having other serious stomach problems. They got worse, and then I just couldn't eat. I came to Nairobi anyway, but as soon as I got there I went to another hospital and they tested me for typhoid. The stupid doctors in Kisumu didn't even do a simple typhoid test, and because they didn't, they didn't treat it properly and it came back. Now I can eat and I feel a lot better... I need to be more careful with my water, I guess.

This month I also learned to drive a car in Kenya. Fear not, the car had insurance and I'm alive! But driving here is seriously different. To start with, they drive on the left side of the road. There are no rules, and tons of roundabouts, and it's generally the most aggressive driving I've ever seen in my life. But slowly I'm learning to deal with it and it's pretty fun.

I also attended a football (soccer) game in Kenya's national stadium between Rwanda and Kenya. Rwanda won 5-0. I'm not sure who I was rooting for. I had a long talk with a prostitute. I learned to sweep the house. I chased chickens. I even went to the river with my little brothers to fetch water from the river and chased a little boy while threatening to eat him for dinner. It's been a fun month.

The research is going well, although slowly. It's a daunting task, doing so many interviews and investigating so many leads. I'm still excited and I still think I'll tell a good story.

So what's coming up? Pretty soon I can say that I've been in Kenya for six months. Hopefully this month I'll travel to Rwanda and Burundi for spring break with my new Rwandan friends. Hopefully I'll make significant progress on my research. Hopefully I'll continue to be happy and healthy!

New Photos

Check out the Flickr site for an assortment of random pictures... I also have some that I haven't put on my computer yet of BRAND NEW! baby chicks. I'll post them by next weekend also.

A silly poem...

From someone who never writes poetry but got VERY bored the other day...

A Love Poem to Kenya

Kenya, I don't know why I like you,
With your beggars and dirty streets,
And sweet smells of roasted maize.
With your rampant crime,
And welcoming hospitable people.
With your 30% HIV/AIDS rate,
And music playing in the streets.
With no concept of punctuality or tardiness,
And the most sincere greetings in the world.
With leaky tin rooves and holey mud walls,
And brightly colored khangas around every waist.
Kenya, I don't know why I love you,
With your baffling extremes,
but I do.

Returned to Kisumu

I have arrived safely in Kisumu, after an interesting bus ride here. Well, they're all interesting to be honest. This time though, we passed two giant kegs, the size of a trailer home, that were filled with Nile Special, which is Ugandan beer. And we passed it off-road, so that was pretty exciting. There was also a serious cockroach infestation on the bus. But hey, I'm here now!

Still raining?

Yeah, it's still raining. This is crazy. The rains aren't due until March. In other news... My friend Dan brought it to my attention that we have less than 100 days in Kenya, if we leave when our plane ticket says. I might stay to travel, but to think that I could come home if I wanted to in 100 days is making my brain hurt.

Tomorrow I go to Kisumu!

Weather!

It actually rained today. I know it's not big news to all you snowy Americans, but it RAINED HERE. It's not the rainy season, and there's been a bit of a drought. In fact, it's so dry, that people are starving in the hotter regions of the country. They're eating unripe boiled mangoes. It's on the news every night and very, very sad. So I hope it rained all over the country today. But I'm tromping through the mud today, just like old times.

Research Topic

Here is an edited-down version of my research proposal. It's still in progress so don't get too disgusted by the writing. In other quick news: I'm heading back to Kisumu on Sunday morning for better or worse. I'll miss Nairobi, but I like Kisumu a lot too. I also loaded some new pictures onto Flickr just for fun, a couple old and some new ones.

I. Background and Introduction

Cultures are often taken as given, timeless, and unchanging. Yet cultural change is a fact, even if it happens in some places faster than others. Today, Luo cultural practices are undergoing rapid change – particularly in the arena of marriage and family traditions. It takes quite a bit of time to thoroughly understand the particular rituals and habits that form an organizational premise for their culture. Many of these traditions involve marriage and family. In one example of a still-practiced tradition, the oldest son has a private house built for him outside of the general family compound. This is called a simba in Kiswahili. This is the house where his wife will move to, out of her own family’s compound. Once a woman spends one night in this house, she is considered married, although it is not completely official until a dowry is negotiated between the two fathers. Once the eldest son is married, another simba may be built.

These particular practices are still widely used in Luoland in Western Kenya, however other cultural practices are becoming less common, even becoming looked-down upon. For example, many grandfathers in the families have multiple wives. This was appropriate as long as the man could provide for all his wives and children. Most young men these days do not plan to take multiple wives, considering it sinful and inappropriate.

Another tradition that is becoming less common is that of wife inheritance. In the past, when a husband died, the wife needed to be inherited by a brother or other male in the family member, as well as the semi-orphaned children. The woman was not allowed to go back into her own family’s compound, so she needed a safe place to be taken care of and to manage a cohesive society. These practices are no longer considered appropriate or desirable. Luo culture is changing rapidly, with old practices shunned, while others are maintained.

II. Statement of the Problem

These intricate practices are being simplified in a sense, as the Luo community in Western Kenya decides to adjust their customs. This essay seeks to answer the question, what explains change in traditional Luo cultural practices, particularly surrounding polygamy and widow inheritance? Furthermore, how does a community go about making those changes? The first critical issue to examine in the field of cultural change is what is fueling these changes. There are many possibilities in this regard, from diseases such as HIV/AIDS, demographic changes, internal movements, or government policies. There must be something that triggers these changes.

Another important issue to address is where this change originates from once it is triggered. For instance, does the chief or other leader or a community mandate it? Does an NGO come in and hold behavior change seminars that they find appropriate? Do members of the community finally decide they are not satisfied with the current practices? The answers to these questions may also shed light on how a community decides which practices to change, as related to the triggers referred to previously.

Lastly, the implementation of cultural change is an integral part of the puzzle. Once something triggers cultural change, and the community decides or is influenced, somehow the change must executed. In the case of Western Kenya and Luoland, one particularly interesting instance is the “behavior change workshops” where cultural change is initiated. Understanding the course these workshops run will lead to a further understanding of the issues and of the way communities initiate the culture change they decide on, or perhaps in some cases, that is imposed from above. However, there are other ways of implementing culture change. In many cases, NGO’s and CBO’s are involved in educating, or sensitizing, the community. Additionally, the chief of the community is very important, showing that there are many parties involved in instigating cultural change. Each of these plays a different role in terms of strength and purpose, which must be understood to fully grasp the issue.

III. Objectives

This paper aims to discuss, using Luo culture in Western Kenya, Nyanza Province as the subject: 1) analyze the causes and triggers of cultural change in this particular setting; 2) understand in which way the community comes to a consensus or decision about which cultural practices are no longer useful and appropriate; 3) explore the ways in which cultural change is implemented; 4) how this proves or disproves some of the current literature on wider cultural change in the world; 5) finally, to provide recommendations on how to most appropriately, respectfully, and effectively implement cultural change.

There are also sections on literature review and research methodology, but somehow I don't think those are appropriate...

Running, or Dying, In Nairobi

As I’ve mentioned in my blog before, Kenya has had a certain… effect on my body. I’ve had to buy all new pants. I don’t have a four-pack anymore. Which is alright with me for the most part, but being healthy is still important. I want to be able to climb Mt. Kenya at some point, or hike for miles and miles with a backpack on. I don’t want to be physically unable to do things. For this reason I got the crazy idea to start running in Nairobi.

First, I needed shoes. I have some hiking shoes that could double as running shoes but they really aren’t that comfortable unless you’re doing vigorous hiking. So I searched around second hand markets, but being white really got in my way. A pair of running shoes should be 1000Ksh (~$14), maybe 1500Ksh at the most. But no one would get lower than 2800 or 2500, even though they were just used Asics or Nikes. Finally, I convinced a friend of mine, Allan, to take me to a giant second hand market called Gikomba.

Have I mentioned that it’s giant? This is where all the second-hand clothes in Kenya come into the country. These are giant bags, the size of cars that are filled with the clothes you gave to Goodwill and Salvation Army. Have you ever wondered where all those clothes go? I know, there’s NO way all those clothes are really at Goodwill, and they’re not, they are sent to Africa. Here I have found Gap, Target, Limited, Nike, Asics, Adidas, and Levis, all in American sizes. Even bras, TONS of bras are in this country second hand and all worn out. Finding new clothes is actually very difficult here.

Anyway, Allan and I went to the source. It was scary. In Nairobi I’ve adjusted to hanging out in places with a mixed crowd, lately Rwandan, Burundian, those other white folks… So going to the market was a bit of a shock for me. Bargaining here was difficult too, because Allan was well dressed and well, I GLOW. But after walking away from two other pairs of shoes, we got a pair of grey and purple Asics for 1400Ksh (<$20).

I was outfitted for my new endeavor. Mind you this adventure took two weeks, searching for shoes that I could run in. Finally, I set a date to run with Steph. She kept swearing she wasn’t in that good of shape, but she lied. We started running and I was quickly out of breath.

Before I go any farther (in my writing and in my running) let me tell you about Nairobi air. First of all, the altitude here is high. I’m not sure specifically how high, but it hit me when I arrived here even in walking around. On top of that, Nairobi is terribly polluted. There are way too many cars for the small space, with constant “jams” as they call them.

Now that we’ve established the air quality… So it’s about a quarter of a mile, a couple city blocks, and I’m winded. My muscles are alright. I run a bit more and realize I Really Cannot Go On. Steph is bouncing around and running in circles while I blow my nose. I beckon her to go on. She bounces on and my head is throbbing. For some weird reason the running has kicked off some serious cramps (of the uterus!). I walk back home, clutching my stomach and trying to catch my breath.

As soon as I get home, I cough until I gag. I run the next day anyway, and limp home that time. Welcome to running in Nairobi.

The Particulars

When my mom was here in Kenya, she often said that she really couldn't imagine what Kenya was like, and that coming finally made the pictures made sense (or something like that). So I want to explain a little bit about what Kenya is actually like, what it looks like, what it smells like.
In most areas, the ground is covered in trash. There aren't really public trashcans, and there are only one or two landfills in the entire country. So you can imagine what the ground looks like. When I first came, I didn't want to throw garbage just on the ground. But eventually you realize there isn't much point in not doing so; it's going to end up there anyway. In our neighborhood there is a garbage service, and you can put your garbage outside in a plastic bag. However, then the homeless people go through it and it ends up on the ground anyway.

Nonetheless it's worth mentioning a bit what exactly is on the ground. There are tons of scratch cards for airtime. They're bright little pieces of paper in green or orange, with little scratched-off barcodes on them. There are also a ton of Ken King bottles, which is the cheapest Kenyan liquor there is. Sometimes the bottles get filled with glue for little kids to sniff. Lovely, isn't it?

Kenya also has a variety of good, and bad, smells. When you walk through a densely populated area, so many different things come to mind. You can smell roasted maize, which you can buy for ten shillings as a little snack. Sometimes there are samosas or mandazi. Other times you can smell chang'aa, a home-brewed liquor that is dangerously strong. Beyond that of course there's garbage and raw sewage. Some parts of the city reek so much that I breathe through my mouth. The garbage is often burned on the side of the streets, so one of the most common smells is smoke and burning plastic bags.

On the side of the streets are countless informal businesses: little metal shacks where you can buy airtime, bread, margarine, gum, candy, soda, soap, buckets, cushions, etc. Other rickshaw shacks have a few tomatoes, a few mangoes, some carrots, and plastic bags full of whole milk. This is where, everyday, we get our ingredients for lunch and dinner. Beyond that, there are tarps laid out with used clothes and shoes, cheap bootleg DVDs, socks, hats, combs, scrunchies, etc. Anything and everything, either used or very cheap. These tarps and stands are on every street corner, for your convenience. They are often run by women. I almost trip every few minutes staring at the assorted goods.

I'm sure that America's streets will seem infinitely boring when I return...

First Brush with Corruption

There is one story that is quite interesting that happened when I was with my mom that I omitted earlier, because I think it is a full blog entry all on it’s own.

Kenya is riddled with corruption, from the highest offices to the most lowly employee. The President appoints his tribal members and gives the best funding to his own province and district. Ministers reroute their portfolios funding into their own pockets. But the corruption that got in my way was that of the police officers. It’s well known in Kenya, even among whites, that the cops don’t really give tickets, they just take bribes. Any taxi driver or motorbike driver can tell you that’s how they get through their road blocks. If you resist the bribe attempt, you may well be thrown into a Kenyan jail, which is something to fear. It’s also well known that in the jails that prisoners are beaten, starved, and sometimes tortured. So you want to go with the bribe route and make it easier.

So my mom and I are in a taxi on our way to the airport when we see a police line on the road. I move to buckle my seatbelt (this is my first mistake). The policemen wave us over and then request that the driver show his documents, so he exits the car. The officer taps on my mom’s window.
“Where are you going? And why aren’t you wearing your seatbelt?”
“We’re on our way to the airport; I had just forgotten, I’m sorry.”
“You know the fine is 2000Ksh per person for that.” (About $30.)
“Per person?! That’s a lot! I’ve been in lots of vehicles in police lines and I’ve never been stopped for not wearing my seatbelt!”
“You can come into court tomorrow and settle it there.”
“We can’t exactly come into court tomorrow, my mom needs to fly out tonight, we’re on our way to the airport now.”
“Then you have to pay the fine now.”

So I look into my bag and explain to him that I really only have 2000Ksh because I have to pay the cab driver the other bit of my money. He takes it, of course.

My logic? This cop doesn’t care about the law, and just wants my money above all, so if I give him what he wants he’ll just let us pass to the airport. He knows I don’t know the rules and he knows I have to be at the airport so he has the upper hand here, for sure. As the taxi driver gets back into the cab I exclaim “What an asshole!” I feel like I want to cry. I know I just got screwed.

But I drop my mom off at the airport and that goes smoothly, although it was really sad to know that I won't get to see her, or really anybody, for over four months. When I get back with the taxi, I mention the disappointing experience with the officer, and he's surprised. He says that it wasn't even a traffic officer, and he had no right to take the money. The fine is actually 500Ksh instead of 2000Ksh. If I had even asked for a receipt he wouldn't have been able to do that.

Again, my logic? This guy doesn't care about the law, and he could easily make my mom miss her flight just for fun. He could also throw me in jail. The cops in Kenya are as scary as the criminals; they ARE the criminals. On TV, you can see, at least twice a week, a cop brutally beating someone who is running from them. The cops actually CHASE people and beat them. And they're not scared of the media seeing, of the public seeing, of anyone. They're scary.

So it turned out I didn't really have to pay the money (well, duh!), and that I had been totally taken advantage of. The cop knew I didn't know the rules and he knew I had to get out of there quickly, and he worked it for all it was worth. Hopefully in the future I can be smarter!

Four Months in Kenya - The Halfway Point

January 1st marks my four-month anniversary of staying in Kenya, as well as the halfway point of my trip (provided I leave at the end of April). December was a good month, although unlike any other. At beginning of the month I left Kisumu and my internship to come back to Nairobi for exams. Being back in Nairobi was such a shock. I had electricity (although no running water anymore here in Nairobi, there’s a serious water shortage) as well as many more creature comforts. There’s coffee, places I can take my laptop, stores with clothes that actually fit, a multitude of good restaurants – it’s amazing. There are also a lot more white people here, in addition to a much more diverse group of people. In Kisumu it’s mostly Luos, with a few other Kenyan tribes and then some Indians and wazungu. But for the most part, people have similar facial structures and skin colors, speak a common language, and hold some common culture ground. In Nairobi however, there are all tribes and all sorts of internationals. It’s a relief for me in a lot of ways. I blend in here, I can walk around without being stared at (usually) and rarely does anyone call me out. It’s like a vacation for a mzungu, and I’m loving it.

Since I have returned from Kisumu I am enjoying Nairobi a lot more than I did before. Nairobi is definitely dirty and has serious poverty and crime issues. But here feels more like what I’m used to, it’s a busy city with coffee shops and places to explore. It’s big enough that I’m not recognized everywhere I go. While I have more friends in Kisumu, and I enjoy my house and family there, I welcome my time in Nairobi for open arms.

This has also been the time of holidays and my mom’s visit. I worried about whether I’d miss home on Christmas or around the New Year, seeing as Thanksgiving had been a little hard for me. Surprisingly, I wasn’t home sick at all. Of course that was helped by my mom being here, I had some family here and I wasn’t completely on my own. If anything I’m getting more used to being here.

I think I’m also falling in love with Kenya’s weather. I get to wear sandals every day. I have the best tan of my life, and my hair keeps getting blonder. Sure, it’s hot as hell in Kisumu between the hours of 1 and 4, but once you’re adjusted it’s quite nice. The sun rises and sets at almost the same time every day, and it only rains during the rainy season, and even then, rarely during the day. There are almost never cloudy days. Just blue skies and the bright sun! I could get used to this.

Exams and final papers went quite well. I am glad to be done with them and am looking forward to the next semester. This time around is quite different. Most of my time will be in Kisumu working at my internship, save for a few research conferences in Nairobi. While I work at my internship, I’ll be working on a first-hand field research project. This is a unique opportunity to do something, and try something, that usually only graduate students get to do. My own research will be an interesting test run for me as to whether I truly enjoy research, and if I’d ever be interested in trying for a PhD. My work is driven almost only by myself and my own initiative, and I’m looking forward to the personal challenge. (I’ll post up the research topic when I have articulated it properly for my proposal.)

Another upcoming point of interest is the beginning of deciding travel plans for my spring break at the end of February, and if I’d like to travel at the end of the program. Someone has brought up the idea of traveling to Zanzibar for spring break, which sounds fantastic to me. As for after the program, originally I had considered staying to work or something, but visa-wise, that looks impossible. A work visa in Kenya is over $2,000, which is way more than the job would we worth. I’ve had two job offers, one with the NGO I work with and then a partnering NGO, but it’s not what I want to do right now. So I think I’d like to travel, but where? And with whom? These are important questions that I’m going to start researching this month.

Other than that, I look forward to my return in Kisumu around January 20th and forward to more adventures in Kisumu and Kenya!