My friend Megan got really sick on Thursday. She started puking at about seven in the evening and did not stop. What do you do in the middle of Africa? At about 3am I went and knocked on the door of a lady that works at the hotel we stay at. She gave us the number to a cab and we went to the hospital. Megan is still there. She should get out tomorrow. I stayed at the cottage alone last night, and it was really quiet and lonely. I'm staying at the hospital tonight. This place is like a 5 star hotel! It is like vacation from vacation. It is going to take all I have not to take a bath in the huge jaccuzi tub. It is definitely not like the other African hospitals.
So, I'm going to the beach for a minute, then I'm heading back. Oh yeah, I guess she had a bacterial infection in her stomach. She was severely dehydrated, and her blood was infected. Scary. It could have been from anything. Probably some kind of food. Good thing we got her to the hospital when we did...
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Sea legs...
So I have been on the beach for about 4 days now. What a life. The agonizing, 15 hour bus ride was worth it. We have our own little cottage with a kitchen and shower! The beach is beautiful. I think Megan and I were here for two days when we decided to extend our stay an extra five days. No safari. I would pick this over a safari any day. I kind of figured that would happen. I love being near the water. We bought fresh lobster and shrimp on the beach and fruit and vegetables from little markets. Needless to say, we have been eating gourmet seafood dinners every night. My regards to the chef! (Me) Megan does the dishes. It is a good routine we have going.
I never want to leave. I realize now that I must live near water. Although I’m not so sure how I would do on the water. In a boat, that is. After today I think I will just enjoy from the shore. Maybe swim a little. Megan and I went out on a handmade sailboat with two Rasta guys named Juma and Juma. The plan was to fish and go snorkeling. Fun, right? Well it was so beautiful for the first few minutes. The further we made it out there and the bigger the waves got, the sicker I became. Megan was a little sick, but she managed. I, on the other hand, tried to hold it together. Deep breaths, look at the horizon line… Didn’t work. I totally barfed off the side of the little boat. I could barely open my eyes after that. I should have swam, but I was a little weak after puking about three different times. Gosh, how pathetic. After they took me back to shore, Megan actually went snorkeling. She said it was really great until the way back. She then came and joined me for sick nap time in front of the fan. Maybe I should go and do something productive.
It is nice to be on vacation now. I didn’t realize how draining it was being in Bungoma. Both physically and mentally. I am in tip-top shape now, because you had to walk for miles no matter what you did, so that’s good. But it was also stressful. You had to see and deal with a lot on a daily basis. If it wasn’t just getting constant attention (both positive and negative) for being a Mzungu, then it was having to face the harsh reality of poverty and begging street kids. A trip into town was never dull. Nevertheless, it exhausts you. Not to mention living on a farm with twenty or more people. That demanded a lot of energy, too. It was really sad leaving the farm though. It became my home away from home, and I can’t help but to think that I may not see many of those people again.
Somehow, wherever I go the animals always seem to find me. Aside from the millions of monkeys around here that will come into your cottage and steal your food, I have about five cats that beg outside of our door every night. Maybe it was the shrimp heads I gave them the first night… Softy.
I’m really looking forward to Christmas. Maybe not the cold weather. I am so excited to come home and see all of my peeps and pets. I need some hugs and kisses, I think.
I never want to leave. I realize now that I must live near water. Although I’m not so sure how I would do on the water. In a boat, that is. After today I think I will just enjoy from the shore. Maybe swim a little. Megan and I went out on a handmade sailboat with two Rasta guys named Juma and Juma. The plan was to fish and go snorkeling. Fun, right? Well it was so beautiful for the first few minutes. The further we made it out there and the bigger the waves got, the sicker I became. Megan was a little sick, but she managed. I, on the other hand, tried to hold it together. Deep breaths, look at the horizon line… Didn’t work. I totally barfed off the side of the little boat. I could barely open my eyes after that. I should have swam, but I was a little weak after puking about three different times. Gosh, how pathetic. After they took me back to shore, Megan actually went snorkeling. She said it was really great until the way back. She then came and joined me for sick nap time in front of the fan. Maybe I should go and do something productive.
It is nice to be on vacation now. I didn’t realize how draining it was being in Bungoma. Both physically and mentally. I am in tip-top shape now, because you had to walk for miles no matter what you did, so that’s good. But it was also stressful. You had to see and deal with a lot on a daily basis. If it wasn’t just getting constant attention (both positive and negative) for being a Mzungu, then it was having to face the harsh reality of poverty and begging street kids. A trip into town was never dull. Nevertheless, it exhausts you. Not to mention living on a farm with twenty or more people. That demanded a lot of energy, too. It was really sad leaving the farm though. It became my home away from home, and I can’t help but to think that I may not see many of those people again.
Somehow, wherever I go the animals always seem to find me. Aside from the millions of monkeys around here that will come into your cottage and steal your food, I have about five cats that beg outside of our door every night. Maybe it was the shrimp heads I gave them the first night… Softy.
I’m really looking forward to Christmas. Maybe not the cold weather. I am so excited to come home and see all of my peeps and pets. I need some hugs and kisses, I think.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
This is from last week! Enjoy!
So I haven’t written in a long time, and so much has gone on. I have one more week on the farm and then I leave for a week on the coast and a three day safari (there is travel time in between and a few nights in Nairobi). I am really excited. However, it is bittersweet. I will be sad to leave all of the people that I have lived with for the past month and a half. Sadly, I know that I will not see them much or ever again. It is amazing how you can form friendships so quickly. So as excited as I am that my trip home is nearer, I am not looking forward to leaving Africa behind.
I have experienced so much here, yet I feel as though I could do so much more. Some of the volunteer opportunities are not short term investments. You literally are just experiencing it. If you really want to make a difference you must put in a lot of time and energy. I went to hang out with the ‘street boys’ on Saturday. So heartbreaking. Hopeless almost. Street boys are orphans or runaways who live on the streets. They beg for money and food. They use the money they get to buy glue to huff. They are totally addicted. It is so normal for the citizens to see these boys running the streets, high on glue that is overlooked or ignored. I’m not saying that people don’t care, because I don’t think that, but it is how it is. Churches will feed them, but they don’t do anything to help their situation. If anything, just feeding them is only enabling them. With free food they can use the money they get from begging to buy glue. There are some organizations that work towards getting the kids off the streets. One of the volunteers met a man named Peter who is a former street boy himself. He now works towards building relationships with the boys in hopes of improving their lives. So, with Peter, most of us on the farm spent two Saturdays with the street kids.
We went to a local park and played games with them (I just chatted with them and took pictures). Last week all of the kids were taken to a restaurant and bought lunch. I guess that went a lot more smoothly. I did not go to lunch last week. This week peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were made and passed out to the boys. Before this point we had a nice time. There was a soccer game going on and the rest of us were just hanging out. Granted there was some drama. Think about sixty boys ages six to twenty, high on glue, with very few social skills. You are going to have some chaos. The bigger ones pick on the little ones. The stoned ones acted erratically. They hit each other, fought, stole each others’ glue, sobbed. They also tried to dip into the purses of some of the volunteers. They did, however, show a little respect. All taking advantage aside, they know we want to help, and they like our company. If we reprimanded them, they would listen. Some of the volunteers would try to take their glue from them. I tried a more subtle approach by just acknowledging that they had it, because if you took it without them agreeing they would become violent. One girl snatched a bottle and a boy attacked her. He was one of the most addicted. He turned down food because he would not give up his glue. This was one of the rules.
Once the it was time to pass out the food all hell broke loose. We, as teachers, wanted to come up with a way to efficiently and calmly pass out the food. Peter had a way he wanted to do it. Yeah, it didn’t work. The kids started frantically crowding around, they were stealing each other’s food, fighting, sobbing. It was insane. It was too crazy for me. Once it hit a certain point, I had to back out. As I sat on the outside of the mania looking in I just became so overwhelmed. It was one of the most pitiful scenes I have ever seen in real life. I was choking back tears. The desperation and sadness was too much to handle. It was out of control, and I felt helpless. So, I went shopping…
Megan, a teacher from IU, promised Itabu, one the street boys that she would buy him a new outfit. They had managed to sneak off during the chaos, so I joined them. Itabu is a very charming hustler. Everyone remembers him. He speaks good English, has a great smile, and remembers everything. After we took him and Megan bought him shorts, a shirt, and shoes we took him to lunch with the whole group. We had a chance to talk to him. Come to find out, there has been numerous efforts to help Itabu. So there is this attitude that he shouldn’t be helped anymore. Supposedly he runs away every time someone tries to take him in. Well, I talked to Itabu. The poor little thing is only eleven. He comes from Uganda where his father is dead and his mother beat him. She said she did not want him anymore, so he ran here to Bungoma, Kenya. Some previous volunteers here brought him to the farm. They then decided to take him to a boy’s school for street kids in Uganda. Once Itabu heard ‘Uganda’, he thought they were taking him home to his mom who beat him. So he runs away. Makes sense to me. The next attempt consisted of taking him to a boy’s school in a city just a few hours away. He says they beat him there. So he ran away.
This young child is damaged. His mother beat the crap out of him. He is terrified of being beat up, so he runs away out of fear. He says he wants to go to school. Once again, I was crying behind my sunglasses. He is so young, but his eyes look like an old man, for he has seen way too much in his short amount of years.
This is one of the efforts that needs so much more time and energy. Peter has devoted his life to helping these kids, but it is hard for him to get funding. He can not start an organization without money. A lot of us will try to do our best to help once we leave here, but I would love to spend more time with kids like Itabu. Even though it is emotionally strenuous you can’t help but to notice that these kids need affection and someone to care about them. You should have seen how happy Itabu was with some new clothes and a Coca-Cola.
On another note… There was this little stray dog that showed up at the farm. One day I was at the well pumping water and noticed a dog that looked dead. It was so skinny you could see every bone, and his coat was thin with sores peaking through. I was freaked out until I saw it move. Then I was even more freaked out that it could actually be alive looking like that. I asked around and no one knew much or seemed to care. Stallone, who lives here, has two other puppies so he fed the dog with them a few times. One of my main concerns is the way people treat pets here. They get hit, kicked, and objects thrown at them. I wasn’t sure what they would do with a little thing like this. Well, because I am an animal lover, and the sweet little thing melted my heart I took action. I started to feed him peanut butter and bread every day. That is where he got his name, Butter. The more I paid attention to him and got others to do the same, the more attention he gets from everyone. Megan and I gave him a bath on Friday. The amount of dirt and bugs that came off of this little five pound dog is disturbing. The stress of the bath totally exhausted the little guy. He went in to some sort of shivering, shock-like sleep. For a minute we thought maybe we gave him a heart attack. We wrapped him in a towel and left him to sleep in the sun for a few hours. When he woke up he was so happy.
He follows me around everywhere. He comes and sits outside of my hut. The other night I went to the bathroom, and I heard a little whimper outside. Butter was sitting by the door crying for me. It breaks my heart that he is attached to me and I’m leaving in a week. There is a fourteen year old boy here with his parents, and he loves Butter. He feeds him and shows him love. Today Matthew, the boy, bought de-wormer for him and the other puppies. His family is going to be here for a while, so I think Butter is in good hands.
Tomorrow I am going on a short trip to a nearby waterfall. This last week here I plan on going on some short day trips and going with some of the volunteers to observe the AIDS classes. Then it is purely pleasure. I get to chill on the beach for a week and then go on a safari.
I have experienced so much here, yet I feel as though I could do so much more. Some of the volunteer opportunities are not short term investments. You literally are just experiencing it. If you really want to make a difference you must put in a lot of time and energy. I went to hang out with the ‘street boys’ on Saturday. So heartbreaking. Hopeless almost. Street boys are orphans or runaways who live on the streets. They beg for money and food. They use the money they get to buy glue to huff. They are totally addicted. It is so normal for the citizens to see these boys running the streets, high on glue that is overlooked or ignored. I’m not saying that people don’t care, because I don’t think that, but it is how it is. Churches will feed them, but they don’t do anything to help their situation. If anything, just feeding them is only enabling them. With free food they can use the money they get from begging to buy glue. There are some organizations that work towards getting the kids off the streets. One of the volunteers met a man named Peter who is a former street boy himself. He now works towards building relationships with the boys in hopes of improving their lives. So, with Peter, most of us on the farm spent two Saturdays with the street kids.
We went to a local park and played games with them (I just chatted with them and took pictures). Last week all of the kids were taken to a restaurant and bought lunch. I guess that went a lot more smoothly. I did not go to lunch last week. This week peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were made and passed out to the boys. Before this point we had a nice time. There was a soccer game going on and the rest of us were just hanging out. Granted there was some drama. Think about sixty boys ages six to twenty, high on glue, with very few social skills. You are going to have some chaos. The bigger ones pick on the little ones. The stoned ones acted erratically. They hit each other, fought, stole each others’ glue, sobbed. They also tried to dip into the purses of some of the volunteers. They did, however, show a little respect. All taking advantage aside, they know we want to help, and they like our company. If we reprimanded them, they would listen. Some of the volunteers would try to take their glue from them. I tried a more subtle approach by just acknowledging that they had it, because if you took it without them agreeing they would become violent. One girl snatched a bottle and a boy attacked her. He was one of the most addicted. He turned down food because he would not give up his glue. This was one of the rules.
Once the it was time to pass out the food all hell broke loose. We, as teachers, wanted to come up with a way to efficiently and calmly pass out the food. Peter had a way he wanted to do it. Yeah, it didn’t work. The kids started frantically crowding around, they were stealing each other’s food, fighting, sobbing. It was insane. It was too crazy for me. Once it hit a certain point, I had to back out. As I sat on the outside of the mania looking in I just became so overwhelmed. It was one of the most pitiful scenes I have ever seen in real life. I was choking back tears. The desperation and sadness was too much to handle. It was out of control, and I felt helpless. So, I went shopping…
Megan, a teacher from IU, promised Itabu, one the street boys that she would buy him a new outfit. They had managed to sneak off during the chaos, so I joined them. Itabu is a very charming hustler. Everyone remembers him. He speaks good English, has a great smile, and remembers everything. After we took him and Megan bought him shorts, a shirt, and shoes we took him to lunch with the whole group. We had a chance to talk to him. Come to find out, there has been numerous efforts to help Itabu. So there is this attitude that he shouldn’t be helped anymore. Supposedly he runs away every time someone tries to take him in. Well, I talked to Itabu. The poor little thing is only eleven. He comes from Uganda where his father is dead and his mother beat him. She said she did not want him anymore, so he ran here to Bungoma, Kenya. Some previous volunteers here brought him to the farm. They then decided to take him to a boy’s school for street kids in Uganda. Once Itabu heard ‘Uganda’, he thought they were taking him home to his mom who beat him. So he runs away. Makes sense to me. The next attempt consisted of taking him to a boy’s school in a city just a few hours away. He says they beat him there. So he ran away.
This young child is damaged. His mother beat the crap out of him. He is terrified of being beat up, so he runs away out of fear. He says he wants to go to school. Once again, I was crying behind my sunglasses. He is so young, but his eyes look like an old man, for he has seen way too much in his short amount of years.
This is one of the efforts that needs so much more time and energy. Peter has devoted his life to helping these kids, but it is hard for him to get funding. He can not start an organization without money. A lot of us will try to do our best to help once we leave here, but I would love to spend more time with kids like Itabu. Even though it is emotionally strenuous you can’t help but to notice that these kids need affection and someone to care about them. You should have seen how happy Itabu was with some new clothes and a Coca-Cola.
On another note… There was this little stray dog that showed up at the farm. One day I was at the well pumping water and noticed a dog that looked dead. It was so skinny you could see every bone, and his coat was thin with sores peaking through. I was freaked out until I saw it move. Then I was even more freaked out that it could actually be alive looking like that. I asked around and no one knew much or seemed to care. Stallone, who lives here, has two other puppies so he fed the dog with them a few times. One of my main concerns is the way people treat pets here. They get hit, kicked, and objects thrown at them. I wasn’t sure what they would do with a little thing like this. Well, because I am an animal lover, and the sweet little thing melted my heart I took action. I started to feed him peanut butter and bread every day. That is where he got his name, Butter. The more I paid attention to him and got others to do the same, the more attention he gets from everyone. Megan and I gave him a bath on Friday. The amount of dirt and bugs that came off of this little five pound dog is disturbing. The stress of the bath totally exhausted the little guy. He went in to some sort of shivering, shock-like sleep. For a minute we thought maybe we gave him a heart attack. We wrapped him in a towel and left him to sleep in the sun for a few hours. When he woke up he was so happy.
He follows me around everywhere. He comes and sits outside of my hut. The other night I went to the bathroom, and I heard a little whimper outside. Butter was sitting by the door crying for me. It breaks my heart that he is attached to me and I’m leaving in a week. There is a fourteen year old boy here with his parents, and he loves Butter. He feeds him and shows him love. Today Matthew, the boy, bought de-wormer for him and the other puppies. His family is going to be here for a while, so I think Butter is in good hands.
Tomorrow I am going on a short trip to a nearby waterfall. This last week here I plan on going on some short day trips and going with some of the volunteers to observe the AIDS classes. Then it is purely pleasure. I get to chill on the beach for a week and then go on a safari.
Friday, November 30, 2007
I'm alive!
Sorry. I know it has been forever since I have written. The internet is a mess here, so it is hard keep up. I am heading to the coast tomorrow! I will have so much to post by then. I have entries on my laptop, but can not post them yet!
I have been to a beautiful waterfall and a rainforest just in the past week. I have great pictures.
It is sad leaving the farm and all of the people I have spent the last six weeks with. I think it will seem strange to be home. Don't get me wrong, I am so ready.
Check for new posts in the next week. I promise I'll give you the update. There may be a few new photos on my link. Take care...
I have been to a beautiful waterfall and a rainforest just in the past week. I have great pictures.
It is sad leaving the farm and all of the people I have spent the last six weeks with. I think it will seem strange to be home. Don't get me wrong, I am so ready.
Check for new posts in the next week. I promise I'll give you the update. There may be a few new photos on my link. Take care...
Monday, November 12, 2007
On top of a mountain...
So we went camping on Mount Sangalo last night. It was an adventure. I am so glad we did it. We had to take boda bodas to the mountain. It took close to an hour. There were huge hills that we had to get off the bikes and walk up. These men that drive the bikes have some crazy indurance. We both had on huge hiking backpacks so we were at least 20 to 40 pounds heavier.
Once we got to the mountain we had to climb a really steep incline. It was a mixture of trails and rocks. We had to do some climbing. A couple times there wasn’t a trail so we were literally creating our own by pushing through trees and bushes. One of our backpacks was huge so we took turns carrying it. I felt like He-Man, or She-Ra, going up there. You could really feel the burn in the thighs. If you did that regularly, you would be in the best shape. We were sweating through our clothes.
There was one little girl that followed us up the whole way. She laughed at us a couple of times when we were clearly taking the dumbest route possible. After a while we would ask her which way, and she would point. She ended up hanging out with us fo r about six hours. We were warned that the locals would follow us. Belafy, the little girl, was the only one until we got to the top. Once we were up there we did some exploring. We stumbled across people praying and chanting at the top. Crazy. Of course we had to get closer to spy a little. I guess people go up there to fast and pray for days at a time. It is normal, so they just ignore you and you go on your way. We heard drums all night. Kinda creepy.
So! Once we found our place to camp we had Belafy and two little boys hanging out with us. More like staring. Then as we started setting up our tent we had a family with a camera- staring. Then we had about four adult males- staring. I have noticed that our idea of privacy and personal space is much, much different than the Kenyans’. We were nice for a few minutes. We said ‘Hi’ snapped some pictures with the little ones, and then we wanted them to leave. It started to rain so we decided this would be a good time to hide out and wait for them to leave. We got in our tent and waited. And waited. We stayed in there for over an hour, and the crowd was still outside watching our tent for any movement. If we peered out we would see the the kids looking in. So crazy. Finally, Candice got fed up and told the man with the kids that we needed privacy to pray. He claimed he was just resting. She asked him how he would like it if we came to his house and stared at him for hours. Then he left. He was kind of mad, but he got the hint. The kids followed except for Belafy.
We kept seeing a little head peeking up here and there. After a while she came over with a squash and asked if we had a knife. We did our best cutting the squash with our little pocket knife just to realize that it was not ripe. It actually tasted like poison. Belafy did not speak a lick of English, by the way. We were trying to ask if she had a family because it was getting late. Her clothes were in tatters, so it made us wonder. After we found that the squash was not ripe enough to eat we decided to offer her our last little bit of prize Ramen Noodles (We cooked them on the fire, mind you. Pretty cool.). She took one bite and said she didn’t want it. Alright, so the little girl was not starving. It was getting really dark and late and the fire was burning out. After about a half an hour of going back and forth about feeling guilty for leaving her out in the cold, we gave her a blanket and went into the tent. We said our good nights. About 10 minutes later we realized that she was gone. The only thing out there was the burned out fire and the blanket. The little rascal just wanted to hang out with the Mzungus.
There were monkeys on top of the highest rocks. You could barely see them, but you could really hear them. They may have been mad that we were there, because it sounded like they were cussing us out. The sleep was nonexistent. The wind was blowing the tent causing a constant commotion, and we were sleeping on a rocky incline. We were alert all night just trying to be cautious. We woke up early and decided to go eat some good food in town. It looked like it would rain anyway, and we were sick of being in the tent. We did it. We were troopers. I would go again for sure. With an air mattress.
Once we got to the mountain we had to climb a really steep incline. It was a mixture of trails and rocks. We had to do some climbing. A couple times there wasn’t a trail so we were literally creating our own by pushing through trees and bushes. One of our backpacks was huge so we took turns carrying it. I felt like He-Man, or She-Ra, going up there. You could really feel the burn in the thighs. If you did that regularly, you would be in the best shape. We were sweating through our clothes.
There was one little girl that followed us up the whole way. She laughed at us a couple of times when we were clearly taking the dumbest route possible. After a while we would ask her which way, and she would point. She ended up hanging out with us fo r about six hours. We were warned that the locals would follow us. Belafy, the little girl, was the only one until we got to the top. Once we were up there we did some exploring. We stumbled across people praying and chanting at the top. Crazy. Of course we had to get closer to spy a little. I guess people go up there to fast and pray for days at a time. It is normal, so they just ignore you and you go on your way. We heard drums all night. Kinda creepy.
So! Once we found our place to camp we had Belafy and two little boys hanging out with us. More like staring. Then as we started setting up our tent we had a family with a camera- staring. Then we had about four adult males- staring. I have noticed that our idea of privacy and personal space is much, much different than the Kenyans’. We were nice for a few minutes. We said ‘Hi’ snapped some pictures with the little ones, and then we wanted them to leave. It started to rain so we decided this would be a good time to hide out and wait for them to leave. We got in our tent and waited. And waited. We stayed in there for over an hour, and the crowd was still outside watching our tent for any movement. If we peered out we would see the the kids looking in. So crazy. Finally, Candice got fed up and told the man with the kids that we needed privacy to pray. He claimed he was just resting. She asked him how he would like it if we came to his house and stared at him for hours. Then he left. He was kind of mad, but he got the hint. The kids followed except for Belafy.
We kept seeing a little head peeking up here and there. After a while she came over with a squash and asked if we had a knife. We did our best cutting the squash with our little pocket knife just to realize that it was not ripe. It actually tasted like poison. Belafy did not speak a lick of English, by the way. We were trying to ask if she had a family because it was getting late. Her clothes were in tatters, so it made us wonder. After we found that the squash was not ripe enough to eat we decided to offer her our last little bit of prize Ramen Noodles (We cooked them on the fire, mind you. Pretty cool.). She took one bite and said she didn’t want it. Alright, so the little girl was not starving. It was getting really dark and late and the fire was burning out. After about a half an hour of going back and forth about feeling guilty for leaving her out in the cold, we gave her a blanket and went into the tent. We said our good nights. About 10 minutes later we realized that she was gone. The only thing out there was the burned out fire and the blanket. The little rascal just wanted to hang out with the Mzungus.
There were monkeys on top of the highest rocks. You could barely see them, but you could really hear them. They may have been mad that we were there, because it sounded like they were cussing us out. The sleep was nonexistent. The wind was blowing the tent causing a constant commotion, and we were sleeping on a rocky incline. We were alert all night just trying to be cautious. We woke up early and decided to go eat some good food in town. It looked like it would rain anyway, and we were sick of being in the tent. We did it. We were troopers. I would go again for sure. With an air mattress.
Friday, November 9, 2007
Brief update...
Hi. I'm in town and thought I would blog a brief blog. I am going to hang out with my Kenyan friend, Gladys right now. I'm not sure what we will do.
Tomorrow Candice and I are going camping on Mount Sangalo. It should be fun. I can't wait to take pictures. I saw some from another volunteer on the farm and they were amazing. We have to buy some kind of food for the trip. Probably peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. A staple for Americans in Kenya.
I teach one more day on Monday, and then there are exams the following week. I may have to monitor the exams. We'll see. I don't exactly talk to my supervising teacher. I think I get on his nerves because he can't understand me. I wish I had more time with the boys. They are getting used to me. One of my classes is hilarious and can't ask enough questions about the U.S. The other is still shy, so they haven't mastered the skill of understanding my accent. I am going to show them pictures of home when I see them again. They'll love it.
I miss everyone and everything. I'm looking forward to coming home. I'm almost at the half-way mark! Remember- hot baths for me! and watch some good movies on a really soft surface!
Tomorrow Candice and I are going camping on Mount Sangalo. It should be fun. I can't wait to take pictures. I saw some from another volunteer on the farm and they were amazing. We have to buy some kind of food for the trip. Probably peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. A staple for Americans in Kenya.
I teach one more day on Monday, and then there are exams the following week. I may have to monitor the exams. We'll see. I don't exactly talk to my supervising teacher. I think I get on his nerves because he can't understand me. I wish I had more time with the boys. They are getting used to me. One of my classes is hilarious and can't ask enough questions about the U.S. The other is still shy, so they haven't mastered the skill of understanding my accent. I am going to show them pictures of home when I see them again. They'll love it.
I miss everyone and everything. I'm looking forward to coming home. I'm almost at the half-way mark! Remember- hot baths for me! and watch some good movies on a really soft surface!
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Boda Boda!
Today started out with an adventure. I rode in to school alone on the Matatu because I had to be there earlier than everyone else and earlier than the van takes us. I ended up sitting next to one of the teachers from the school. When we reached town she was like "We are going to be late! Get on the bicycle." There are these bikes everywhere that have seats on the back and they drive people around for a very small price. I told the teacher that I didn't have any money. She said she would pay for it, so I had no choice. It was not bad. I can't believe they can carry that much weight. There is a way about the traffic here that the Kenyans understand, but I don't. I got to school so quickly. I'll be riding the Boda Boda from now on.
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