We Came, We Sailed, We Sank!

Now that I've had the opportunity to have my mother see me in the flesh on US soil, I can tell you about my little adventure at sea:

Me and the 3 guys I went to Lamu with, decided to hire a boat and take a little adventure. The captain came to the house we rented, and for a relatively inexpensive fare, stated he would pick us up at 9am the following morning, take us out on his boat where we would fish for our lunch, to the beach where he would prepare some side dishes and BBQ our fish, take us snorkeling, to the ruins, & give us time to lounge on the white powdery beach, sailing us home after watching the sunset. Deal!

We paid our deposit and the next day, woke with excitement to go on our trip. I carefully packed up my money, sunscreen, towel, video camera, digital camera, extra memory card, my trip journal, and whatever snacks and water I could fit in my day pack. When he arrived, I was a few minutes from being ready and we agreed to meet down by the boats, near the donkey hospital. (yup, there's a donkey hospital!;))

At the boat we were greeted by a sweet boy who was probably in his late teens. He worked with Captain Shea on this two-man crew, and I unfortunately, through language barrier, didn't quite get his name. We loaded onto the 20 foot dhow boat and headed out to sea. The warm sun and a desperate desire to soak up some rays made me ditch my New Seasons t-shirt and attempt to get some color. I tucked my shirt in the netted pouch on the side of my bag which was hanging about chest-level off a pieced of wood where the captain placed it. The wind and the waves of the Indian Ocean caused this seemingly frail boat to tip from side to side, with the edge of the boat daring within inches to take water on.

As we got further out to sea, the boy on the boat took a long wooden plank and wedged it between the floor and the wooden ribs along the inside of the boat. The plank extended diagonally across the inside of the boat and rested on the upper ledge of the other side, reaching about 5-10 feet out and over the ocean. The sail was opened, extending to the left, and the boy climbed out onto the plank on the right. We were told this was for balance, to keep the boat from tipping. Hmmm.

After some time went by, one of the guys I was with wanted a chance out on the plank. This made me a bit nervous, but I tried to let go a little. He climbed up there with some visible nervousness, but ended up settling down nicely on the end of the plank, holding a tiny black twine rope, which was supposedly to help with balance. I took a few photos of him, and soon another guy wanted a try. Climbing up there, he seemed much more nervous than his predecessor and I was nervous he was going to fall. He did, however, make it to the end of the plank and sat down, feet dangling above the water. As the boat tilted from side to side, his feet splashed into the water, and I actually felt my adventurous side twinge with a desire to have a go at it.

As he got more and more comfortable, he got a bit more daring and ended up standing on the end of the plank........bad timing. A gust of wind came and the left side of the boat tipped way down next to the water, causing the plank he was standing on to tip way up in the air; that combined with wet feet is not so good. His foot slid and he started slipping down the plank. He did not jump off into the water as instructed by the Captain if something should go wrong, but instead tried to jump from one side of the boat, through to the other side of the boat and into the water. Hmmmm. Miraculously, he did not totally smack himself into any part of the boat causing himself bodily injury. He did, however, hold onto the black twine for balance as he was dragged through the water. The other problem? Oh, the captain had let go of the sail in order to help the boat correct itself, but as the David fell through the boat, he ended up catching the sail and hanging onto it. My head screamed, "LET GO!", but unfortunately, it was too late.

In a matter of a split second, the boat was taking on water. It came rushing in the side and I looked out to the bags hanging on the post in front of me as we took water on. In the fraction of time I thought about grabbing it, I still believed the boat would correct itself. I was mistaken.

Water gushed faster over the side and within a matter of 5-10 seconds the boat was under water. I reached for my bag and tried to pull it off the post as it sank into the water, but I couldn't get it to budge. My hands were fully extended below the water tugging at my bag. All I kept thinking about were all those pictures and videos and my cameras. When I was unsuccessful, I dove under the water, still trying to get it free. I realized that it was hopeless, and as the fear of getting tangled and going down with the ship entered my brain, I decided to go back up to the surface.

The entire boat sank; 30 foot mast and all. The only think remaining was that long plank which floated in the water. We grabbed onto it and I noticed abnormally large cockroaches floating in that water around us, some of them on our backs and hands, as they tried to keep from drowning. The unfortunate event compelling these creepy creatures to come out of hiding and try clinging on for safety. I tossed my hand in the water to rid myself of a couple. I am an animal lover, but cockroaches simply disgust me, and I admit I felt relieved when they all finally drowned.

Looking around, we could not see any land, but there were mangroves on either side of us. I thought to myself, worst case scenario, whether or not the mangroves would support my weight if I climbed on them. For a second, the dramatic side of me heard the theme from Jaws play in my head as I realized I was that I was holding onto a plank in the middle of the ocean with my feet dangling below me. Shark, fish, kelp, whatever, I just kept repeating in my head, "Please, nothing touch my legs! Please, nothing touch my legs!"

After a short time, we spotted a couple of boats in the distance. Although the captain shouted out to them in Kiswahili, I still felt it necessary to shout, "Help! Over here!" a few times, as though my English screams would be more effective in some way. Lol! ;) I remember whining, "My bag! My bag!" a few times, and as I look back on it, I wonder how irritating I sounded or if we were all just in shock.

When the boats arrived, we all swam over to them. I pulled myself onto one and out of the water, feeling hopeless that my bag was gone forever. All those pictures! My whole trip! Ugh! We climbed over the rough brick the boat was transporting to Lamu and tried to stay out of the way. It was quite rough on my bare feet and I found myself feeling teased by the recovery of one but not both of my sandals. I didn't understand how one floated, but the other didn't. (It probably got caught on my freakin' bag! ugh!)

We sat on the boat, and I felt the sun start to redden my back. Logic would tell you to turn around and face the other way, but I felt compelled to watch the area where the boat had sank. We were lucky enough to have a boat passing through with a man diving for lobsters. That meant he had goggles and was able to dive down looking for things. He kept coming up with new items, and as everyone's bags had been recovered but mine, I was hopeful and disappointed all at the same time. The boy from the boat was carting items back and forth from the diver to the boats which had stopped to help. We offered and tried to help, but they wouldn't let us. It felt pretty lame to be sitting there watching folks swim back and forth trying to salvage what they could from an accident that was in large part our fault.

As my outlook turned grim, I looked up and saw the boy swimming towards me with my bag. YEAH!!!!! I wanted to kiss him! (for me that's big!) I took my bag from him and thanked him profusely as he turned to swim back for more things. I immediately took everything out and laid it in the sun, hoping to dry everything out. As I peered down at the equipment, I saw the salt water had already started to corrode the metal parts of both cameras & there was a large quantity of water floating in the screen of one.....not very promising. I slapped some sunscreen on and crossed my fingers.

When we finally headed back, I realized that I was wearing a bikini top and shorts as the boat was approaching the shore of highly Muslim town. Luckily, I had a jersey in my bag to compensate for my lost t-shirt. I would have looked naked in a town where most women are covered in black from head to toe. Plus, I think it would've come off as disrespectful.

When our feet were firmly planted back on the ground, the captain asked us if we would be willing to provide the remaining balance of the trip to help him pay to get his engine looked at, to pay the men who helped, and to pay to try to have his boat recovered and towed back to shore. We, of course, coughed up the balance of our less than $10 per person trip, plus extra. This poor guy! We got back to the house and I think we were all in a bit of shock and disappointment. I took the time separate and tear out each one of my journal pages and lay them out separately to dry. I'm glad I thought of it, cause it really would've sucked to lose my journal on top of ruining my cameras!

We didn't really do anything else for the rest of the day. I probably should've dusted myself off and gotten on any boat that was willing to take me to the beach, but I was a bit shaken and a little depressed about it all. I decided I would stay on an extra day and get my beach time the following day. I checked on and made arrangements to fly for 2 hours instead of traveling by bus and train for two days. The $150 USD seemed worth it after all that craziness!

The next morning, I woke up, excited about my day at the beach. The sun, unfortunately, had different plans in mind. The overcast in the sky, which gave hints that it wanted to go away, ended up remaining the whole day and even released a downpour on the island a few times.

Captain Shea came by in the morning and chatted with us about the terrible events of the day prior. He stressed that it was a very bad thing and that he was frozen in fear. His boat did not resurface like it should have after they removed the mast, engine and all the weight, and they had to spend more time and money getting the boat out. He said he had to stay with the boat all night so that it wouldn't float away before they got all the water removed enough to get it close to a dock and tied off. He asked for 500 more shillings ($6 USD) to get food for him and his family, since he spent all the money on the boat recovery and our rescue. He explained that it's low season, and in a month, it would be fine, but we were his first trip this month. I went to get money, but he left with cash from one of the boys before I got back. That made me sad, but I was pleased when I saw the young boy from the boat and was able to give him some. After all, he did a ton of diving and carting of items from the wreck to the boats.

The two Scotsmen, David and Stuart, left for their flight, and Rich and I checked into a hostel room with 2 beds and a rooftop which you could see the ocean from. Walking through town, many people recognized us as the first people to sink on Captain Shea's boat. Everyone expressed to us how very bad this was & when Rich and I went to lunch that day, we found out why....A young pupil of Captain Shea's came over to our table and told us that Captain Shea has been a great captain who is well respected on the island. That he is an older man, who teaches the younger ones how to sail. He informed us that Captain Shea has never sunk a boat, and that nobody on the island has in a long time....that the last time, which was a long time ago, a captain and his boat totally disappeared, seemingly having sunk, drowning the captain. He told us that the fisherman take this as a very bad sign, and that the pupils of Captain Shea, feel that this is bad luck. This information made me feel terrible. My heart went out to the captain, his reputation, his family and his pupils. Even now, I remorse, wishing I had done something more. The captain left us, agreeing to take Rich out on a boat ride with some other tourist the following day. I was slightly surprised, considering the whole "bad luck" thing, but was happy that Rich would get his fishing day in the end.

Lounging around another day without getting to be in the sun was a bit depressing, and I found myself wishing I could port myself home. The night dragged on, with no interest in dinner & another round of traveler's diarrhea.....that would be the 3rd time this trip! Ugh! I decided to start taking the antibiotics I had gotten before I left for the trip.

The next morning, I said goodbye to Rich, who was leaving on his newly booked dhow trip and started packing for my flight. After I loaded up my bags and slung the backpacker's pack on my back, I still had put on my regular school-style daypack, which needed to hang from my front. Coming up the narrow, unevenly spaced, tall, twisting staircase was luckily harder going up than going down, but it still left me wishing I had packed less. Off to the airport, and back to Nairobi I go!

Traveling to Mombasa & Lamu

Last Wednesday my friend Rich and I decided to take the night train from Nairobi to Mombasa, then head onto Lamu by bus. Although I had heard some horror stories of the train in some of my research back home, the pleasant and delightful reviews I received about it in Nairobi, gave me the little nudge I needed for a once in a lifetime experience.
We boarded the train at the station and met two young girls who I was to share a 4 bedroom cabin with. Rich got the room right next door, and we all hung out in the girl cabin and chatted a bit. They recommended a place in Mombasa to stay and we rang there to reserve a spot in the dorm. It didn't take long for me to switch rooms and bunk with Rich, as my claustrophobia was getting to me a bit.
The train was delayed about 30 minutes in taking off because they couldn't get the electricity to work. lol! When we finally got rolling, we poked our heads out of the room to the walkway and pulled down the windows to try and get some breeze. The air smelled of smoke, as it often does here, and as we passed by the slums, we saw pockets of people walking about and many cooking dinner over open fires alongside the tracks.
Shortly after moving the dinner bell was rung up and down the halls and a small parade of people, being bumped & jostled by the movement of the train, attempted to make their way down a narrow corridor through three cars. We filed into dinner car where we were greeted by white tablecloths covering bolted 4 seat tables. A nice dinner was served starting with soup and offering chicken, beef or vegetables with rice or roasted potatoes. The fruit cocktail at the end was delicious, as all of the fruit here is. We ran into Stuart and David, 2 Scottish guys from the hostel we were staying at in Nairobi. After chatting with them and deciding to travel to the same hostel, we headed back to the room for some cards then turned out the lights.
We opted to leave the window open for breeze even though we were told by two of the staff not to. Yes, I understand precaution, but it felt like it was 200 degrees & there was no way I was going to be in that tiny room with the door shut and the window shut, getting no airflow. Rest assured, nobody climbed into the window, and I would do it the same all over again. You would too....it was hot!
Quite please that I spent 3 times the price to avoid being cramped on a bus for 8-9 hours, I sprawled out to catch some sleep.......the train, however, did not have the same thing in mind. I think I dozed off in 15 minute intervals as the tracks twisted & turned, the breaks squealed, and I don't know how they laid the tracks down, but I lost count of the number of times that my body was tossed into the air, losing almost all contact with the bed below me. Each time I was made aware of the roughness of the trip, stories of train derailments danced back into my brain. Dramatic, but true. In the morning, Rich was thinking the same thing all night.
We had breakfast in the same place as dinner & woke up to a bit of coffee and fresh juice. Oh, did I mention how fabulous the fresh fruit juice is? Ahhh. Mango, pineapple, passion fruit, banana, avocado, yummy! Anyway, we had a bit of eggs, toast, sausage & beans (don't ask me why, though I think it's an English thing), as we watched the newly risen sun climb hire into the sky. It was very warm already.
The train ended up taking about 13 hours, which is 2 more than we anticipated. After haggling for a taxi, we started a long trek to the Beach Bar, which I would highly recommend to anyone. The trip there made me very leery, and the longer we rode, the more I was wondering where the hell we were going. But when we arrived, oh gosh.....a small bar to the right and tables and chairs looking out to the mangroves and Indian Ocean spilling right onto the beach and coral in front of you. It was paradise. All my doubt and fear went out the window and I felt guilty for having doubts about the place. The decorations included shells, nets, surf boards, old wooded boats. For use, there were quaint 2 bedroom rooms overlooking the water and a couple of dorms with sand for floors. There was also a tree house you can climb into and a couple other fun places to lounge.
We went to the left for a little walk on the beach and got to see little crabs running up the rocks/cliff drop-offs which met the beach, and were clearly warn by the high tides. Hermit crabs were everywhere, and we got to see quite a few lizards scampering about as well. The water was warm and the sun was hot. Seeing trees growing in the ocean was pretty cool too! :)
After grabbing some food, I decided to wander to the right, and walked along a long stretch of coral that met the water & dropped off. A local man came and spoke to me for a bit & after testing a bit of my Kiswahili, decided I needed to add a few more words to my vocabulary, and took a bit of time to write down some words and their translations on a piece of paper. He also let me know that he and his friends perform acrobatics for people, and if my friends and I were interested, to let him know. I wasn't 100% sure if that was a beach boy come on, or an honest business offer, but I decided to just tell him I was leaving the next day and that wouldn't probably work. You see, in Mombasa, there are beach boys who will often cater to EVERY need of a traveling woman who is not otherwise attached and has a little money to spend. It's like going on vacation and having an attentive boyfriend for your whole trip. Not exactly my cup of tea. Lol!
I got a motorbike taxi to take me up to a little wooden hut by the petrol station to get bus tickets to Lamu the following day, just to find that they don't sell them there. Deciding not to bump up and down on a motorbike for 40 minutes into downtown Mombasa, I opted to head back and enjoy the afternoon. Riding through the village, both ways, I was greeted by kids and adults alike with "jambo", which is kiswahili for "hello". So not the US. :)
Back at the Beach Bar, we drank a couple of beers.....okay, I had 3 and each of the boys had 9. I can't exactly keep up with that, nor did I want to in that heat. We chilled out, played Flowers, a Kenyan card game, and chatted while enjoying our front row seats to a spectacular view. Rich found a millipede, which he picked up with some sort of metal thing, and proceeded to show it to all of us. Expressing my discomfort with millipedes, he put it down and I watched carefully as it crawled away. For dinner, I got a lemon fish fillet and ugali. The ugali, which is corn flour and water (no, not like polenta) was too bland for me to choke down. Too bland to choke down, you couldn't just eat something plain, you ask? No. You have no idea what the meaning of bland is until you've eaten this stuff, and if you can imagine eating cardboard or styrofoam, that would be a more pleasurable experience! ;) On the contrary, the fish was absolutely divine and gave a new meaning to the word "fresh"! Fish is so fresh here at the coast. They catch it that day and cook it. You can tell someone in the morning what kind of fish you want and they can bring it from the ocean to you that day. Yes, really.
After a delicious dinner, we played some cards in one of the lounging areas. I took my backpack, with hand sanitizer and toilet paper, to the bathroom for a pee break and even though I don't know how it happened, when I returned to the card area and set the backpack I had been wearing down, a huge millipede was crawling right up top where my pony tail should have been hitting. Ughh. With 3 boys sitting around, a did let out a gasp, but managed to keep a scream out of the picture, and Rich was kind enough to remove the creature who he claimed 'looked mean' and was bigger than the one from earlier. After the encounter, I started to do the 'look around me for creepy crawly things every 1/2 second-thing' and decided it was time to go put together my little one person tent made to keep those suckers out.
My sleep went just fine and the 3 guys & I woke early to take a taxi to town to get a ticket and bus to Lamu, which is an island off the coast of Kenya. After getting there, we found the bus we wanted left an hour prior to when we thought, and we needed to kill a couple of hours before the next one. The man at the bus ticket counter recommended a hotel restaurant just a half a block down the road. We wandered down and happily found a table in the restaurant where we could plop ourselves and our backpacks down. The restaurant was Arabic, and I noticed very quickly that i was the only female in there, and unfortunately, made the mistake of wearing shorts; showing of the legs not looked upon so highly.
You could order white coffee or black coffee, but not really something in between. For white coffee, they bring out steamed milk, which you add an instant packet to. For black, they bring out hot water, which you add an instant packet to. Stuart mentioned his white coffee tasted a bit funny and as we perused the menu, we found camel milk as an offering and speculated as to whether or not that was the cause. Camel milk. Interesting. I was half-tempted to order some, but decided I didn't want to offend anybody if I couldn't drink it. One of the waiters came over to the table and I decided to order chapati instead. No dice. This is how it went: I said, "Hi, excuse me, but can we get a couple orders of chapati?"
Yup that's it. He stared at me for a minute, which I don't think was a friendly look, then turned and walked away without a word or any sort of acknowledgment. I don't know if it was the woman thing, or the shorts thing or what, but the chapati never came.
Boarding the bus, I didn't realize there was assigned seating and ending up creating a little traffic jam. I squeezed off and knelt facing backwards on a seat to let some people pass by and an old woman came along and started shoving past me to get to the window seat, but it was obvious that my foot was in the way and there wasn't enough room. I politely told her that if she stepped out, I could move and let her in. Since she did not respond, I repeated myself a little louder. Then again, a little louder. As she kept pressing and pushing, my ankle was turning a direction which it shouldn't go & I found myself getting quite loud and even got the assistance of interpretation from somebody. Although most people speak English, there are some exceptions, so it was nice to have someone translate, but even that did not help and the woman gave one last huge shove, pushing my foot well into the seat in the wrong direction, and I sadly must say that my temper got the best of me and I realized after it was too late that I had shouted, "Jesus Christ!" so that the whole bus could hear. They did hear. They all turned and looked at me too. They all must have been thinking what a rude American girl, shouting at an old lady. Granted, I felt badly for my comment, but if it was America, someone might have hit this lady she was pushing so hard. The concept of personal space doesn't have much of a meaning here, and shoving and squishing past people seems like a regular thing.
After we all managed to get into our assigned seats, catch this, that wasn't even her seat! Ugh! The bus, which started out with all persons seated, tended to pick up a bit more than it could handle and I found that for at least 30 minutes, I had some guys butt cheeks resting on my shoulder. Remember what I said about personal space? It had no meaning. The bus ride was hot and bumpy. The windows were all open, allowing a film of dirt to form on our clothes, skin and hair. Not that I was super-clean before, but this really gave me the oomph I needed to be disgusting. The bald guy in front of me looked like he had a whitish-tan buzz cut by the time the trip was over. When I went to scratch my face, it was grit on my finger rubbing grit on my face. Oh, and there was also a lot of sweat to help it stick. Yummy! Lol!
We arrived to the boat docks across from Lamu after a little over 7 hours of bus travel, which was 2 hours longer than I anticipated. We boarded the ferry and after about 15 minutes, took off towards Lamu. As we passed by the mangroves, the island started to reveal itself and I found myself looking at what reminded me of an old Italian city by the sea. There were boats bobbing in the water out in the middle of the channel and boats docked up right against the island. The buildings were old architecture and there were lots of them jutting up behind others. People and donkeys were bustling about the streets and there wasn't a car or motorcycle anywhere. It was getting dark, but you could still take in the beauty of it all. It felt old....really old....and authentic.
We got out of the boat and onto the stone steps which led from sea to land. We were planning on finding Casuarina, which is a hostel with good reviews, but a couple of men approached us and offered to take us back to a house with plenty of beds, a kitchen and a rooftop lounging area. We followed the men down the tiny streets, which are really walkways for people and donkeys, and tried to avoid the donkey droppings along the way. When we arrived, a locked door led you past the house boy's quarters, who stays at the place 24-7 & will cook and clean for free during a person's stay. There was a flushing toilet and 2 showers & once they brought out another mattress, there were beds for each of us. The rooftop was a table with chairs around it and both a thatch covering to protect from sun and rain and an open area to catch some rays. For 2,000 KES a night, which is not quite $26 USD, the four of us happily agreed, and plopped our bags down with grins a plenty.

Interesting Visit to the Hospital

Don't worry, I'm just fine! I did however, take a little trip to Nairobi Hospital a couple of days after returning from Isiolo. It seems I must have eaten or taken a drink of something I shouldn't have, even though I was careful. A little action out both ends was something I could handle, but when I got a serious dizzy spell which I thought was going to make me pass out, I got a little concerned. I got a taxi and went to Nairobi Hospital to get checked out.
The flow of the hospital wasn't exactly user friendly, and I ended up having to get directions 3 times just to get to check in. At numbered window number 1, I had to give my name, but no identification. The man did not ask what I was there for, just simply handed me a piece of paper and a card with my name on it and told me to get in line at windows 4 or 5. I got in line again to hand in my paper and give them 2,000 KES (about 26 USD) to see the doctor and got assigned #399. After paying up, I waited for some time for someone to call my name. A trip to the restroom while I was trying to be patient led me to find all three stalls of the restroom without toilet paper. Soap was also absent at the sink. Thank goodness I have learned to carry toilet paper and hand sanitizer with me wherever I go.
When my number was finally called, I went into the triage room where I listed my symptoms and had my blood pressure & temperature checked. Temp was done by sticking an oral digital thermometer that didn't look so clean under my armpit. Mmmmm. I had to ask if I had a fever, since sadly, I couldn't remember how to convert celsius to degrees. After finding I had no fever, the woman took me back to what seemed to be the emergency room. Sort of like in the states, there was an island for doctors and nurses in the center and single rooms with curtains around the perimeter.
I tried to settle in while I waited nearly 30 minutes for a woman to come over and ask if I had been seen yet. She collected a little symptom info from me and stated she would be giving me an IV. She got a dinged up looking plastic tray of supplies and set it down on the chair next to me. I cringed at the cleanliness factor and watched carefully to make sure objects to be inserted in my body did not get contaminated from the package to my vein. When the woman, and I say woman instead of nurse cause I'm not sure she was one, stuck the needle in my hand, I noticed a bit more pain then I recall with an IV & groaned a bit. "It hurts," she asked as I nodded my head while clenching my jaw. I decided not to look as I thought that would make it worse. She ended up drawing blood and then removing the needle instead of attaching the IV to it. Why, you ask? Oh, because she blew out my freakin' vein and the back of my hand was a sea of black and blue.
The doctor arrived and put a line in my other hand with ease. Thank goodness! After a minute of questions, he said they would run some tests, but in the mist of all that, somehow the topic of homosexuality came up. He asked where I was from and when I told him America, he asked me how I felt about homosexuals. I'm not sure if he was trying to figure out if I was, or make some sort of "light" conversation. I know that homosexuality is illegal here and if you are lucky enough to be deported for it, you can save yourself from being put in jail or beaten and killed by the locals.
I decided not to put myself in a compromising position and simply stated, "I think that as long as you're not hurting anyone, you should be able to live your life." That didn't seem to pacify him, as he continued on, seemingly trying to educate me on the "fact" that the dominant gay man finds a partner for a month and after having sex with the man everyday, the non-dominant man's butt becomes too loose, and the dominant man leaves to find another man with a tight butt. Yes, yes he did say that. I couldn't keep myself from laughing as I told him that I didn't believe that was true. Of course, he insisted and told me that his doctor friend sees patients all the time who can't even walk around without shitting themselves because their butts are so loose from anal sex. "Why do you think women have vaginal rejuvenation?!" he asked rhetorically. I just insinuated that I didn't think he had all the correct information, but decided it was a bit pointless to argue.
Quite a bit of time went by and my blood samples still sat next to me. Finally, someone arrived and asked if I had insurance or was paying cash. I told them I had traveler's insurance, but apparently I need to get reimbursed for that and so I had to pay up front. Get that? ....... they wouldn't run my tests until I paid for them first, which is why they were sitting there. Ha, no wonder they don't need my ID!
At a few points I needed to wander down the hall to a bathroom, which was not in the condition one would like to find a hospital bathroom. It had a bed in there with sheets that looked like they'd been slept in, and a whole bunch of enema equipment on a tray, some seeming to have been opened. There was barely any toilet paper, and I had to pump multiple times to get what was left of the soap. The trash can had hazardous materials in it, just open for anyone to come in contact with. This hospital would be condemned in the states.
I got released after 7-8 hours with 4 prescriptions to calm my stomach and the explanation that I must have had something bad to eat or drink. Uh, ya think?! But I figure the money I paid was worth that informational piece on homosexuality. I'm glad I had an educated professional to explain it to me! lol! All is well now! :) I just advise not getting ill in Kenya. P.S. I was told that was the better hospital! Lol!

Samburu Village at Archer's Post

I boarded a matatu on Thursday to go up to Archer's Post and visit a Samburu women's village there. While on the matatu, I saw an interesting slide of hand happen twice between two individuals, which I am pretty certain was a drug deal. Moments later, I found out that one of the individuals seated next to me who was involved in that transaction was a police officer. Sadly, I still believe it was a drug deal or some sort of shadiness.
It took about an hour over partially paved, partially unpaved road, but we ended up getting a flat tire along the way. Watching the men try to change this flat tire was a bit exhausting and I was tempted to intervene. My better sense of judgement told me that if men would take issue with that in the states, they most certainly would here, and I managed to refrain.
When we arrived in Archer's Post, Ambrose, a man who works for the women's village, came to get me and bring me back to camp. As we walked past the village, the women were standing at the entrance to greet me. The woman in charge came out and introduced herself as Rose, and welcomed me before I headed to camp to get settled. She was well decorated with colorful fabric and beads. One of her necklaces was about the circumference of an old record, and just as thick with beads minus, of course, the space for her neck.
I walked on to camp and settled into a banda overlooking the river. On the other side of the river, was Samburu National Park, where I saw men herding their cattle to drink from the river. The little banda was quaint with bed, mosquito net, desk, toilet and shower. When I say shower, I mean small metal pipe that dumps cold water out like a hose. Of course, the other day, I bathed with a bucket, so I could be going places! lol!
The camp had two bandas, a covered area for eating, and a few tables for guests to sit and look over the river. It was breathtaking. I was the only guest and it was completely peaceful. The river was flowing, there was vast open reserve as far as the eye could see, and in the distance, it was all framed with beautiful mountains. This was the Kenya I was looking for.
I was offered a cold Tusker and gladly accepted my 1 degree colder than room temperature beverage. For lunch, Ambrose made spaghetti, skumawiki (sp?), and goat meat, I think. After lunch, Rose came to meet me at the camp and told me we would wait until 4pm to see the camp when it wasn't so hot. She sat with me a while, and when I went to ask her questions about the camp she informed me she would tell me all about it when we went there. This created a little awkward silence at the table, but I've found that they just seemed to not want to leave me alone. Like they were looking after me and trying to keep me company because I was by myself. It was sweet, but kind of funny.
She eventually left and I went and stood right next to the river for a moment. Benedict, a 17 year old boy working there, spotted me and alerted me that there are crocodiles. My first thought was "oh shit!", but of course, I was not going to run away. I stood there for another moment, carefully eyeing the water, and then turned and walked away slowly, seeming to be unfazed by his comment. lol!
When 4 o'clock came, I heard singing in the distance. As I looked over, there were about 15 women who came to collect me. They were in a myriad of bright colors with intricate beadwork and decoration. They were singing and clapping and one at a time came dancing up to me and said something in their mother tongue, then danced back to the group. Rose instructed that we should leave now, and I followed the group as they sang and danced all the way back to the village.
Once at the village, they performed a few more songs for me and I was told I could photograph. After the songs, I got taken around the village where I saw the different buildings they had. There were homes built with sticks, dirt, water and cow dung. They were quite a bit larger than the Masai huts I had seen & you could see inside them, which was nice. There was a seperate room for the children to sleep, a room for the adults and a communal/kitchen area which also doubled as the room for the 15 year old boys to recover in after being circumsized.
They had a school built with concrete where many of the children from surrounding villages come to learn. They line up by rows of rocks and sing songs every morning before school starts. When peeking inside the classroom, I was greeted by a group of children hanging out, who were more than happy to recite the alphabet in English for me. Afterwards, they proceeded to sing a few songs, one of which, I had learned most of in Kiswahili and joined them.
I got a tour of the museum they had built, which was basically a small room with some artifacts from their past. There was some jewelry, some tools and some decorations. It was pretty neat to see. Three different organizations, including one from the states had donated the money to create the museum.
I learned that the village was started in 1990 by 15 women who were badly abused by their husbands. The women left and started their own village, deciding they would support themselves by selling beaded jewelry to tourists. They faced a lot of adversity at first. The husbands were coming to the village threatening to kill them. Other men set up stands near their village trying to deter tourists from shopping at the women's camp. Even today, many of the tour buses will not stop at their village.
The original 15 are no longer around, but it has continued to be a safe-haven for women facing abuse issues. They are currently 60 strong, and unlike many Samburus, they do not practice female genital mutiliation. In fact, they go around educating other Samburu villages on the negative impacts of FGM and give women's empowerment speeches around the world.
After touring the village, and coming to their little market, I was sure to shop and support such a courageous and politically active group of women. Their jewelry was beautiful, and even though I was in awe over some of the larger pieces, I couldn't bring myself to purchase something that I would never wear and end up setting in a box somewhere. :( I got a couple of bracelets, which I probably didn't bargain too well for, and headed back to camp for dinner.
Dinner was skumawiki (like kale), chipati (like naan), and goat (I think). I stuck mostly to the vegetarian side of things, as I find the meat here a bit too chewy and grissly to bear. After dinner, I played a Kenyan card game I learned called Flowers (which is what they call clubs). A couple other guys came and joined us, and before you knew it we had a couple of spectators. I didn't do too bad if I may say so myself. ;)
After several rounds of games, I went to sleep in my banda, where I was warned not to open the door for anyone. I was also told not to walk around or go near the water, which kind of creeped me out right before bed, but two of the guys were sleeping there, so that gave me a bit of relief. Next morning woke up bright and early and headed for the matatu at 7am.
Once in Isiolo, I packed up the rest of my things, had some toast with Katie, and caught a matatu to Nairobi. Back to the Wildebeest Camp.

Nairobi to Isiolo

I got on a bus headed for Isiolo the other day to meet with the Red Cross about a water project up there. The man collecting the money outside said it left at 10:30am. I looked at the time as I boarded the nearly empty bus and saw that it was 10:32am. I figured we would be off in a bit. As time passed I started wondering if he really meant to say 11:30am, but as that came and went, I realized that wasn't the case either. The bus, being pushed off of the sidewalk by seven men, started the trip shortly after noon.....that, my friend is Kenyan time.
The bus was pretty cramped with seats which barely contained me. The simple task of putting my hair up was quite difficult. The real challenge came with the window. I wanted it open, but the six people behind me did not. Mind you, it's over 80 degrees and the sun is beating down, on a huge bus for a 5 hour trek.....unfortunately, people who live here are more accustomed to the heat and find wind to be quite chilly. Needless to say, with the back of my shirt drenched in sweat, I lost.
We did pass some amazing tea plantations along the way, which I was very pleased to see. There were lush green hillsides sectioned off and covered in tea leaves, coffee, and other amazing crops. Banana trees are everywhere, and I'm tempted to pick one fresh from a tree, but I'm sure they belong to someone.
I got a matatu from where the bus dropped me in Meru to Isiolo. Another 1 1/2 hours and I arrived. My new friend Katie met me at the petrol station & we walked back into the village to the children's home where I would stay with her.
I was greeted by many children who were quite happy to have a visitor. My first stop was to the outhouse, where I was wishing I was a dude for a second; I had to pee into a tiny hole the shape of a bicycle seat, and not much larger. It all worked out it the end, but was a bit intimidating. I settled in for the evening and Katie made a fabulous pasta dish with fresh tomatoes and veggies from the market. Gosh, how I love pasta!!!
Yesterday, I went to meet with someone from the Red Cross, only to find that there were no projects I could do know. The woman told me that she might have the supplies sometime next week. I wish they had told me that before I travelled 6.5 hours to get here. Then again, I guess I would have missed out on the rest of the experience. I wandered around town. It's quite a bit hotter here and the wind likes to throw the dust into your eyes. Katie and I had lunch at the Boman Hotel, which was quite tasty and then I met a bunch of street kids, many of whom she works with. A lot of the children were holding up what looked like a smaller version of a Kraft dressing bottle, which I soon learned was glue. She asked them to put it away while she was talking to them. Many of the kids were high on glue or drunk. Can you imagine?....7 year old children, just plowed at 3 o'clock in the afternoon. It was heartbreaking. One child asked for a banana and was told, "If you have money to buy glue, then you have money to buy a banana", which I thought was the perfect thing to say, but it still makes you ache for them. I learned that glue takes away the feeling of hunger, cold, and of course, boredom. It's terribly cheap for them to get, and terribly sad to see. I'm tempted to buy up all the glue in town from the shoemakers and stores, but I know that won't fix the problem. Poverty and education are the problems. (At least from an outsider's perspective)
On a more positive note, everybody here is very friendly. Kenyans seem quite keen on handshaking and it happens all the time with strangers I meet as I walk down the dirt roads. So many people want to know where I'm from and want to talk with me. People will just start walking along with me and talking. In the US, that would be seen as very odd or threatening, but here, it is just friendliness and company. Also, I stand out a bit. lol!
Tomorrow, I will head up to Archer's Post to see the Samburu Tribe of women who left their abusive husbands to start their own village. They make jewelry there and I will buy some to support them. I'm very excited to meet them, as I hear they have faced a lot and overcame. I may stay there a day or two. I will be in touch when I can! :) Miss you guys!

Cold Hard Reality

I got Sunday's Daily Nation Newspaper today, as I wanted to catch up on some current events. There is a new constitution proposed for Kenya, which people will be voting on. President Kibaki and most of the goverment seem to be strongly in support of the new constitution, and the paper does not stray from their view. Of course, the skeptic in me wants to read the fine print, as I feel that some of the proposals, while colored beautifully, may open up a can of worms in many areas. Some feel that the vote has been decided already.
Of course, I'm straying from what I wanted to mention, so I will get back to the point....In the paper, there was a section where the question "What would I want included in the constitution" was posed to children who look like they can't be far from the range of 5 -10 years old. Not to depress anyone, but I think we all take a lot for granted, and I wanted to share some of the responses they had with you:

"I would stress the point for the right of children to get an education, so that we won't have many children loitering in the streets." Vivianne Wanjiru

"Every child must have parental love. No parent should throw away their children. Those who do so should be jailed for life. It should be made a law that children should have time to play." Faith Mbone

"I would make sure the rights concerning providing basic needs like food, clothing and shelter are included in the constitution. If parents are poor then the government should take care of their children and building many homes for them." Enock Winjira

"I ensure that the law against marrying off children is very clear. Every child must have a right to complete their education and marry when they become adults." Joseph Kamau

How is it, that we as a society, and I do mean the whole world, stand by while children are put in a position to have to ask for education, food, clothing shelter, time to play, and to not be married off at a young age? These are children....young, young children....asking for basic things that you and I don't think about....asking for basic things which they should not have to think about.....how does this happen? How do we resolve it? It just breaks my heart.

Safari in the Masai Mara

On Wednesday morning, I left for a 3 day safari in the Masai Mara, which is known as the best safari location in Kenya. There were 8 of us, not including the driver, who loaded up into a 4WD van with a top that pops up for viewing. My newfound friends, Julie and Twinkle, laughed and sang songs a good part of the way, causing much joy to other passengers. It took roughly 5 hours to get there, stopping for a delicious lunch along the way. We had chapati, which is like naan, lentils, meat, greens like kale and rice. Delicious!
Back on the road we passed fields, farms, little shops/huts, cattle, sheep, goats, donkeys, etc. The road got rough and we crossed a broken down cement slab of a bridge, which I was sure wasn't wide enough for the van.....I was mistaken. The bumpy road made my ribs feel as if they were clanking together at times, and the crazy passing made me feel as though we were in a constant game of chicken. All and all, we made it in one piece.
First stop was to the neighboring Masai Village, where we were greeted by the chief's son and each paid 1,000KES, which equates to almost $13USD, to see the village. The money goes to the chief and is used for their school. After money collection, we were greeted by a group of tribesman who performed a welcoming dance for us. Wrapped in their red cloths and decorated with jewelry, they danced and groaned and grunted, marching and competing with high jumping, which they are known for. After the dance, we learned that the large holes they've created in their ear lobes are a sign of age, and someone who has holes in the top of their ear means they've gone to school.
Next, we were shown how they make fire by quickly twisting a wooden stick into another piece of wood, then taken for a tour of the village. As we walked through piles of mud and dung, we learned that they actually mix the mud and the dung together, so avoiding the piles was kind of pointless. We passed by a hut which was being rebuilt by weaving a type of string back and forth between sticks.
As the group walked on single file, one of the tribesman took my hand and told me to follow him, and he pulled me into a tiny doorway, through which I had to both duck and turn sideways due to the small size. While this was happening, I was like, "'Oh my gosh, I'm being seperated from the pack', 'what's happening?', 'they won't know I'm gone!'" Only to find out later that this happened to everyone of us.
When I walked into the hut, I saw spider webs, but couldn't see anything else. It was pitch black, and I was freaked out. The man asked me to sit on the bed, which he kept tapping, but as I lowered my butt, I was unable to locate it, and didn't want to touch what I couldn't see. Finally, about two inches off the ground, I made contact with what felt like a hard plastic tarp. The tribesman sat next to me and told me that this was his home. Another tribesperson in the room, who I'm still not sure if it was a man or a woman, opened a 3 inch hole towards the top of the hut to let light in. I was told that was for when they cook to let the smoke out. The hut was considerably cooler than it was in the hot sun just a few feet away. I was told the layout of the hut; where the couples bed was, the guest bed, the elder's bed and the bed for the baby sheep and baby cow, who need to be indoors when they are young. In the center was their "kitchen", which just looked like the center of the room to me with some raised dirt. I learned that he had 5 children, 4 boys and 1 girl, and that they have to tear down their home every 9 years due to termites that live in the ground below and eat their home. As he told me that, I noticed what I thought was a termite crawling on one of the posts by the kitchen and my mind started to wander off as I thought about what might be crawling on me in the darkness. He then tried to sell me 2 necklaces he wore around his neck, one for me and one for my sister he said. He wanted 1500 KES, and I said no. Wanting out of the hut, where I could see again, I said I wanted to look around and then would decide.
We left the hut and he persistantly tried to bargain with me. I offered him 100KES. He laughed and said my price was too low. I told him I wanted to see the market first. We went to the market, which was a round circle, will each of the jewelry makers in front of their 2 foot long stick shelf of goods. As I passed by each one, they were pushing their products hard. Most of them stood in front of me, ordering me to look and not allowing me to pass onto the next vendor. Their jewelry was beautiful and intricate, but not having much money on me, and lacking the desire to lug souvenirs around for 3 weeks, helped me resist the pressure. One person actually forceably put a necklace on me and a couple others attempted to put bracelets on my wrist. I turned them all down, but it was quite uncomfortable. They made car salesman pale in comparison. I exited the circular market with the tribesman following me the whole way, still wanting to negotiate on the necklaces. I ended up getting both for 200KES.
We took a little tour of their school, which was a lot fancier looking than their homes, but rundown at best. I appreciated the effort for education and one of the girls in my group made a donation to who I believe was a female principal. We left the village, with tons of children playing soccer, known here as "football" in the background. Our camp was so close that you could still hear the children playing when we arrived.
We went out into the national reserve that night, all of the next day and the following morning. Our safari guide was fabulous and I believe he broke a rule or two to get us the shots we wanted. It was amazing to see all of the animals there, out in the open, roaming free. We saw everything but a rhino and a male lion. There were impalas, gazelles, heart beast, water buffalo, monkeys, baboons, hippos, lions, wildebeest, zebras, colorful butterflies, birds & geckos, a crocodile, cheetahs, leopards, hyenas, mongoose, etc. It was insane, and I truly hope that I am able to hang onto my video camera and get it safely home so that I can share some of the spectacular things I saw!
We've made it safely back to camp, arriving last night & did a little late night run to an Ethiopian restaurant around the corner. It's above a bank (lol), and some bumping music made me check out a sign next to the restaurant, which read, "Singles night! Starting at 6pm. Non-alcoholic fruit punch served." Seeing as it was around 10pm, I was curious if ther was anyone even inside, but the fruit punch comment made me chuckle and I resisted temptation.
I slept in a tent on the lawn last night, as the dorms were full, but I slept well & woke up at 6am like usual. Ugh, tell me this is temporary! A little french press coffee, a bit of blogging and I'm ready to start my day. Not sure what I'm doing yet. Need to get a hold of my contact at the Red Cross to see if I can come up to Isiolo (5 hours north) for a water project. If that doesn't pan out, I will do something else. It's a bit out of my comfort zone, but this "no planning" thing is kind of nice!
I'll be in touch when I can! :)