And I'm off!

Tomorrow morning (bright and early) I'm off to Tanzania for the week! We're first staying with Pete and Charlotte O'Neal for the night and have the opportunity to hear about their life in exile (not too sure what to expect...but I'm excited!) Pete has a wikipedia page about him...check it out! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pete_O'Neal

After that we'll be living with a Maasai tribe for a few days and then finishing up our week by climbing (part of) Mt. Kilimnajaro! 

Every day I ask myself... "am I really getting academic credit for this program??" The answer is yes and I can never believe it. SIT is huge on "experiential learning" of which I'm now a HUGE fan. Though I'm not learning too much from books this semester, my experiences are invaluable and I could never learn this much in a classroom alone. I'm learning to appreciate the small things every day, like the man who owns the car wash by my house and power washed my shoes, pants and arms when I stepped in a huge puddle of pud (up to my knees) or the guy who comes to look through our trash outside our gate for some spare food and then shares some of it with the monkeys that follow him around. It was really difficult for a while being in a different country, trying to adjust to life and knowing no one from back home. I enjoyed it, but it was hard. I'm now at such a great point though where I feel like I've finally adjusted to life here and I love it so so SO much. Thinking about leaving in a little over a month actually makes me so sad now. I'm excited to see everyone back home, but my friendships here are growing each day and I can't imagine leaving these people that I love so much.

Sorry to get all sentimental...needless to say I'm loving this semester and I'm sure I'll love it even more after my "educational tour" (nice wording SIT) to Tanzania. 

I'll update when I return back to Nairobi. Let's hope I can stay out of the hospital this trip! (Fingers crossed.)

Until next time!

Megan

P.S. Here's a little photo update (just to keep things interesting!)...last night we went out to this really fun restaurant/bar. My closest friends Grace, Alex and Sam came over before the get ready! It was such a fun night!

 this is my best friend in my program, Sam..and me

Grace, Sam, Alex and me!

What a great reminder of why I fell in love with Kenya

This past weekend was reserved for "ISP Prep" where we had four days to travel to the site where we are doing our month-long research project and set everything up for November. Since me and a few friends are staying in Nairobi, we decided to travel during our prep days to Kisumu, a city in the Western Province.

My good friend Sam's host mother grew up in a small village called Siaya, about an hour outside of Kisumu, so she offered to take us around her old stomping grounds.

Saturday morning we left around 5 am and made the 7 hour trek out to the village. Her village prides itself in being the home of the Obama's family. Obama's grandmother lived in this small town . Rose, Sam's host mother, took us to Obama's family's home and after verifying our American citizenship with the guards (except for Sam who is Dutch..which confused them a lot) we were allowed into the compound. Obama's blood grandmother (the mother of his father) died some years ago, but lucky for us, she was a part of a polygamous family and we got to meet the other wife of Obama's grandfather. People just call this woman Obama's grandmother, so we went with it. Relations in the Luo tribe, along with most other Kenyan tribes aren't rigid and someone's friend could be considered her sister, aunt or child...it gets confusing sometimes.

Anyways, this grandmother, Sarah Obama, was a riot. She was at a fundraiser when we arrived (apparently she's a pretty popular lady now) but rolled up to her house about two hours later with a TON of people. She was decked out in full tribal attire (see picture below) and invited us to dance with her as soon as she got there. Her friends thought we were hilarious as we quickly proved the common stereotype, that white girls can't dance.

We stayed with Rose's family Saturday night in the same village as Sarah Obama and left the next morning to head into Kisumu. The city is absolutely gorgeous, as it sits right on Lake Victoria. We ate lunch at this wonderful little restaurant next to the biggest Nakumatt (Kenya's Wal-Mart) in Kenya. The restaurant, Mon Ami, is known for serving "ex-pat western food." Normally I'm all for the Kenyan dishes, but after some time I just need some pizza. Needless to say, lunch was phenomenal.

After lunch, we headed to a few lookout points on Lake Victoria, and spent a couple hours admiring the beauty of the lake. Lake Victoria is the source of the Nile as well as the 2nd largest freshwater lake in the world (behind Lake Superior) At our second lookout point, a Kenyan boat driver came up to us and asked if we wanted to go on a "hippo-seeing tour." Two hundred shillings down ($2) and 5 minutes later we were questioning our guide's legitimacy, but were soon proven wrong as 3 hippos appeared right next to our boat. I have only seen a hippo in the zoo, and those hippos are TINY compared to the ones we saw in the water. I was amazed by how large they were. Apparently hippos are also extremely dangerous which was comforting to know as these hippos appeared only a few yards from our boat. Regardless, the sight of these kiboko was wonderful--they were such beautiful animals. Two dollars well spent.

We headed back to shore just as the sun was setting over Lake Victoria, which was a breath taking sight. Sunsets in general are among my favorite things in the world, but add in a beautiful lake, my best friends in the program and trolling along in a makeshift wooden boat, and the sunset was one of the best I've ever experienced. I'll just let the pictures speak for themselves.

Sunday night was spent at another one of Mama Rose's relatives in Kisumu and Monday morning we woke up early to visit the national museum in Kisumu, which was a "must see" according to Lonely Planet. We quickly discovered that Lonely Planet was exaggerating quite a bit, as the museum had next to no exhibits. We were still holding out hope for the alleged "snake pit" but were disappointed when the only snake in this pit was a green garden snake. We still made the most of it though, keeping ourselves entertained with the painted murals of village life.

After the museum, we decided it was time to head back to Nairobi, but were discouraged when, an hour into our drive, the road we had to take was under construction and were forced make a 3 hour detour along the bumpiest road I've ever experienced. This 3 hour detour ended up being SUCH a blessing in disguise because it took us on a "scenic route" of Kenya. We were going so slow that I could stick my head out the window and be comfortable, so I literally just sat with my head out the window of our little bus for 3 hours straight trying to soak in the beauty of western Kenya. We drove through the tea district which was unlike anything I've ever seen. Tea fields lined the roads for miles, with a sea of green stretching as far as my eyes could see. After the tea fields, we descended down this huge mountain for a few miles, which was stunning. Again, I can't even describe how beautiful it was, so I'll just let y'all enjoy the pictures from my ride.

I'm now back in Nairobi, feeling refreshed and ready to start our short week of class. Today was another day of ISP prep, so I spent it hanging out with my friends who are already back in Nairobi. We went to our favorite coffee shop and attempted to do some work, but ended up just messing around the whole day, uploading pictures from the weekend, searching for summer internships and downloading new music that we are missing out on in the US. 

I also spent some time today trying to figure out what to do with my next month. We're leaving for Tanzania on Sunday and when we return ISP starts, and all of my projects have fallen through so far. I originally wanted to work with women on a rural island looking at their access to prenatal care. When I got sick and spent a week in their nearest hospital (the week from hell) I threw out that idea. Then I thought I wanted to work with a mobile medical clinic working with street children in Nairobi. I visited their office and it turns out they don't exist anymore. Last week I was set on working with this NGO to study economic empowerment of women from war-torn areas all over East Africa. I still haven't heard back from them yet though and was told today by my academic directors that I need to start pursuing plan B (which in my case is more like plan D)

I'm actually okay with all these plans falling through though because I found another topic that I think would be fascinating to look into. I was told this weekend that girls in rural areas as well as girls in the slums in Kenya often miss up to a week of school every month because of their period. Because sanitary pads are too expensive, girls have to resort to makeshift forms of pads like dirty cloths, and have to miss school because they can't control their periods. Because menstruation is a taboo subject of sorts in Kenya, with women and men often feeling uncomfortable talking about this issue that can affect half their population, this issue of menstruation affecting education is often ignored. Girls miss up to half a month of school every term, which can significantly impair their ability to learn and move forward with their education. Pair this with a country that already favors boys, and these girls face serious barriers when trying to move forward with their schooling. I haven't decided what exactly I want to look at regarding education and menstruation and I'm waiting to hear back from multiple people about this topic, but I think that anything related would be fascinating. 

Besides deciding on an ISP topic, all is calm here in Nairobi. Everyone is getting really excited to head to Tanzania on Sunday, which I'm sure will be an amazing week.

I'll post some more updates before I leave!

Until next time-

Megan

Tough Lessons

Every day my host sister cries at dinner. Something is always wrong. “I hate this food” “My stomach hurts” “I’m tired” “I want tea”…the complaints never end. Every night I grind my teeth and do my best to not scream out every thought that is swarming through my head. I sit through dinner so angry that this 7 year old girl is screaming and yelling about having to eat the meal prepared for her when 3 minutes down the road is the biggest slum in Africa where the food that my sister refuses to eat every night is the portion that an entire family of ten will receive for one day of eating, if they are even that lucky.

I sit there so angry, in utter disbelief that this girl, who has a roof over her head, 3 huge meals a day and a family who is healthy and living, can think of so many things to complain and cry about every single day. A week ago I started counting how many days she would go without having a nightly fit…and a week later my count hasn’t even reached one day.

I hate the feeling of anger. I hate it so much. What I hate even more though is that this feeling of anger is felt because of a seven year old girl. How can I be angry at a child?

Tonight when her daily fit began, I tried so hard not to get mad. But after she was still crying 20 minutes later, I couldn’t take it anymore. Grace looked at her and said, “You know what? There are millions of people in this city who are lucky to have one meal a day and you are screaming because you actually have food on your plate. Do you want me to take you down to Kibera so you can give this food you refuse to eat to those children? They will think you are the greatest thing ever for giving them your portion of food. They will also not understand why someone would ever give up their meal, when the next meal is never guaranteed.”

Something different also happened tonight. When Grace said that to my sister, and my sister stopped crying a bit, perhaps processing what was just said to her, I began to think about Grace’s words as well.

What makes me so much different than this little girl? Just because I live in another country, doesn’t make those people 3 minutes down the road living in extreme poverty any less real. How many times have I complained about trivial things that, in comparison to the way those in poverty live, makes me look like a complete fool. How many times have I complained about a meal I didn’t want to eat, an outfit I didn’t like or a family member or friend I was annoyed by? Why don’t I use the same judgment I’ve been so quick to pour out on this girl and apply it to my own life? How foolish and selfish am I?

How can I ever complain about the small things that don’t matter at all when I am so incredibly blessed? I have an amazing family, supportive friends, and a home to go back to. I can honestly never recall a time where I have wondered if I would go to bed hungry. I’ve been financially supported by my parents my whole life, never wondering if I would be left alone to handle things if disaster were to strike.

I realized tonight that my judgment is way out of line and what I really need is to check myself. Just because I grew up somewhere else, doesn’t make my complaining or my concern for trivial matters any less selfish, any less ridiculous.

I need to keep this in mind as I proceed on with my life, not only for the remainder of my semester here, but also for my life when I go back home. It’s easy now to recognize how uncalled for complaints and concerns may be when I’m surrounded by absolute poverty on a daily basis, but it’s going to be a lot easier to forget about the way so many people in this world live when I’m back in my comfort bubble of Chapel Hill that I love so much. I need to constantly be checking myself and not stressing over the small stuff.

Sorry that this wasn’t much of a “life update,” but I’ve found writing to be very therapeutic during rough days here and wanted to post about the lessons I’ve been learning in hopes of really making sure that I’m following my own advice as I move forward from here.

I’ll update soon about exciting things going on in my life (and there are a ton!) I miss everyone so much!

Until next time--

Megan

Shirazi, hospital stays and Nairobi

I'm so sorry that I have not updated my blog in a few weeks...it's been pretty crazy over here.

Three weeks ago we headed out to the coast and traveled to this Muslim village called "Shirazi" about two hours south of Mombasa. Living in the village was SUCH an amazing experience. I spent the week with a family of 3 women- an 80 year old woman named Miriam, her 55 year old daughter, Mwanasha, and a 13 year old girl named Ziema (I still cannot figure out how she is related to the family.) The three of them share a small mud hut in the village (which has about 600 inhabitants) and graciously opened up their home to me for my week in Shirazi. Hardly anyone in Shirazi speaks English, and this rang true with my family as well. Mama (Mwanasha) was great though, and was super patient with me when we were communicating (which involved a lot of hand motions and shirade-like conversations) After the first 3 days or so, my swahili really started to improve a lot though and I LOVED speaking to my family. I learned so much swahili in just the one week I was there. It was so different than living in Nairobi, because my family in the city only speaks English. Even when I ask them to speak swahili to me, it's a struggle because they are so used to speaking English in their home.

My house in Shirazi

Mama and Ziema

I basically lived in paradise all week (minus the lack of showering and 3 giggers I got) as Shirazi is on the beach and walking around I was surrounded by more palm trees than I have ever seen. Since there is no electricity, the stars were brighter in Shirazi than I have ever seen any stars shine in my entire life. It was absolutely breathtaking.

Every day we had swahili from 8 until 11 and then had the rest of the day free to explore the village and spend time with our families. One afternoon though, we all loaded into a small boat and headed for this sandbar called "Paradise Lost" for the rest of the day. It wassobeautiful...literally paradise.

Group shot on Paradise Lost in all our kangas

paradise

Ah, another great part about the village was the outfits we ended up wearing. As a Muslim village, the women dress very conservatively-- fully covering their bodies and heads. Before leaving for Shirazi, we all purchased kangas and mumus to wear during our week-long stay (traditional kenyan wear-- kangas are colorful sheets of material that have different designs and provide a "message" on them in swahili, like "God will always love you" or "Slowly, slowly is the way to go" and mumus are loose, lightweight long dresses) However, some of us SITers didn't get the chance to sport our new purchases as our host moms dressed them every day. We were respresenting our families, so the moms wanted their students to have the "best" clothes. The "best" clothes consisted of 80's looking prom dresses and bejeweled fashion wear. Every day we had a competition to see who was "best-dressed" for the day. Here are some winners.

It was hard to fight off all the shirazi men with the amazing dresses I was told to wear each day. This pink dress was a favorite.

Best-dressed: day 3

Best-dressed: day 6

My week in Shirazi was a much needed break from life in the city. It was so great to be able to slow down and relax for a week and experience a different style and pace of life. I learned SO much swahili and loved getting to know my family. Even though I only lived with three women, my entire extended family lived in one "section" of the village, so family members stopped by at all times of the day and night, just to say hello and visit.

So much happened throughout the week that I would love to write about, but I don't want to make this post a novel (which it is already becoming) so I'll just list some of our experiences and tell you more about them when I return home. We played soccer against the village team (and got slaughtered...but I scored!), we swam in the Indian ocean, we rode to a nearby town on motorcycles (sorry mom), we were given henna as "presents" from our family (mine dyed my arm hair black and now that my henna is gone, it looks like I have some skin disease..as part of my arm hair is died black and the other part is still blonde...super cute), we watched men climb to the top of coconut palm trees to get coconuts down, and sooo much more. Oh, and I got peed on by a monkey...that was fun.

Riding on "boda bodas" (little motorcycles)

Tat-tat-tat-it up...me and my henna

Click the picture...there's a man up that tree getting coconuts!

Returning to Mombasa, we were told that the week was scheduled for us to explore the coastal city and enjoy the beach. However, I didn't quite get to experience Mombasa. The second day in the city, I went to the doctor, along with two other students, because I had really back diarrhea (sorry for the details) He told me that we all probably had some sort of food poisoning and he gave me medicine to make me feel better. That night however, I got a lot worse and had a fever and felt extremely dizzy and sick and my friends took me to the hospital to see the doctor again (he had told me to come back if my symptoms got worse.) I was admitted to the hospital, and spent the night there alongside the two other students who had also visited the doctor that day. The next day I felt a little better but was still "driving" (a Kenyan euphemism for having diarrhea) and they told me that they didn't want to discharge me until it stopped. I moved into a private room with my friend Yeiri, who was also still sick.

In the hospital (the first time) with Yeiri--all the nurses loved our sleeve tattoos (also known as "henna")

Our friends were great though, and came and visited us, which made me less upset about missing our week in Mombasa. The doctor came in later that day and told us he would discharge us the next morning. The next day, I started getting these really really sharp pains in my stomach, but the doctor told me that this was normal, and my stomach was just readjusting since I hadn't eaten much for a few days. After being discharged, we headed back to the SIT office in Mombasa, and I immediately laid down, still experiencing the sharp pains in my stomach. About an hour later, my fingers went numb, followed by my whole body and I couldn't stand up straight and didn't know what was going on. The pains in my stomach kept getting worse, and they rushed me back to the hospital to be readmitted.

I spent the next three nights there and was finally told two days into my second stay that they thought I had colitis. They kept running tests (x-rays, an ultrasound and CT scan) but didn't tell me much more. I was extremely frustrated and emotionally drained after 5 days in the hospital. Luckily, my dad contacted his friend in the US who is a doctor and got him in touch with my doctor in Kenya. He heard about the IV drugs I was taking and was shocked; he told me that they would never use those drugs on me in the US and that they were extremely strong antibiotics, and that the combination of drugs they were using was probably what was keeping me sick. I decided to take his advice, and my academic director and I made the decision to stop the antibiotics and try to return to Nairobi where I had more support (everyone had headed back to Nairobi the first night I was readmitted) We figured that I could manage to be out of the hospital for a few hours to fly back to Nairobi and be admitted to Nairobi hospital once I got back.

However, as soon as I stopped the drugs I started to feel better. I chose not to return to the hospital when I got back, and began to feel better and better each day. I'm still not sure what was going on, but I think the drugs had a lot to do with it. Right now, I feel completely recovered and am so grateful for the help from the US that I received.

Apart from the not so pleasant experience in Mombasa hospital, things have been GREAT :) We finished up our swahili classes this past week and have our final exam tomorrow. It's an oral examine, where we sit for 30 minutes with a professor and talk to him about our life in swahili..I'm actually pretty excited!

Our independent research period is quickly approaching and starting Friday we have 4 days to travel to our site where we want to do our research and get everything set up and prepared for November 2nd when we officially start our ISP period. I was going to travel out to the coast to do research in a rural village, but after the hospital experience, I've decided to stay in Nairobi. I'm really excited about having more free time to explore the city and see what it has to offer. I'll also be living in an apartment with six girls from my program, which I am SO excited about :) I couldn't pick another 6 girls I'd rather live with for a month--they're all so kind, funny and down-to-earth.

I'm currently trying to get in touch with a non-profit in the area that started a mobile medical clinic for street children in Nairobi. If they will allow me to work with them, I want to spend my ISP period looking into the health concerns that the street children face and their access to health care. I need to come up with a backup plan though in case I am not allowed to work with them.

After our 4 ISP days, we have a few days back in Nairobi and then we're leaving for a week long "educational tour" to Tanzania where we'll be living with members of the Masai tribe for a few days, watching an ICC case about the genocide in Rwanda, going on a safari in the Ngorogoro crater and climbing part of Mt. Kilimanjaro (no biggie.) I'm SO pumped!

Sorry that I basically just wrote a book. I hope I didn't bore y'all too much. I'll try to update this more often now that I'm back in Nairobi and feeling better!

Until next time--

Megan

Just wanted to also share this awesome picture. I have some great best friends who took me and Madison to our sorority event so we wouldn't miss it!