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!

Our epic Sunday

As promised, an account of my Sunday (last weekend)

5 girls in my program and I wanted to get out of the city for a bit and go hiking. After consulting a few Kenyans, we decided to head out to Ngong, a rural town about and hour away from the city. Heading out of crowded and smoggy Nairobi, we passed through a much greener town of Karen and then finally reached out destination in the rural highlands. We were told take a matatu (a small bus that everyone uses to get around) to the police station in Ngong and then start the hike from there. I knew we were off to a rough start when the matatu stopped in town and the driver told us all that this was the last stop and that we had to get out. I asked him if we were near the police station only to receive a slight nod of the head and the response, "yes, close." Walking away, the driver's friend burst out laughing and I overheard him say "kidogo, kidogo..hapana!" which means "close, close, no!"

Crossing the street we asked a man how to get to the police station. His response? "Are youwalking there?" Yes, I told him, we were walking there. He gave us directions (in swahili) and added, "It's not to close..and it's not too far." Helpful.

His directions proved worthless (or my swahili translating wasn't great..I'd like to think it was his directions though) and after the second wrong turn we spotted a mzungu walking towards us. Thankfully, this American woman, in her 60s, spoke English and was able to direct us to the station. A mere 35 minutes later we arrived at the base of the hill, only to be told by a police officer (in a "corruption free zone") that we would have to pay her 40,000 shillings (about 40 dollars) to hire two guards to hike with us. I had a few issues with this.. 1) the website didn't say anything about needing to hire guards 2) I wondered what exactly happened that made them decide that guards were necessary and 3) none of us expected it to cost so much and we didn't have that much money. Still very sketched out by this "requirement" for hiking that would allow her to pocket our 40 dollars, we told her that we didn't have enough money but would like to hire just one guard instead. "You see this gun?" she asked as she lifted her huge, possibly broken, and definitely outdated weapon. "Two guards are needed to carry this thing." We declined the guards and decided to hike up to the starting point ourselves and see if maybe we could hire a guard at the start for a cheaper price. What we thought would be a quick walk to the stand to pay the entrance fee (a sign at the bottom of the hill read "Ngong hills hike, this way) turned out to be an hour long trek up the side of this HUGE hill. We made the most of it though and figured that if we couldn't end up paying the fee, at least we were getting a bit of fresh air. The path up was incredibly beautiful too, and I could literally feel the difference in air quality there than in the dirt and pollution filled air in Nairobi.

To our dismay, we were told the same thing about hiring guards at the entrance. Instead of hiking further, we sat down on a grassy area next to the entrance stand and ate our pb+j sandwiches, only to be informed 5 minutes later by one of the guards that, since we were not paying, we were not allowed to stay there. Thanks for the adventure Ngong hills.

Walking back down into town, these three little children ran up to us and started following us. They told us that they lived in the Ngong and were headed into town as well. We kept walking and somewhere along the way, this street dog started following us as well. Initially I was worried about some stray dog sticking with us, but he proved trustworthy as he began to walk in front of us leading the way into town, turning around ever 20 seconds to make sure we were still following him. When it became crowded in town he stuck right by our sides, not wanting us to leave him. Kenyans don't generally keep dogs as pets and I think he loved that we weren't kicking or shooing him away as most Kenyans seem to do when dogs approach them. By the time we reached town, we had quite the family, complete with 6 American chicks, 3 Kenyan children and our very own dog. I wish I had a family picture to put on the fridge back home.

Reaching the matatu station, we said our goodbyes to the children and, after negotiating the price of our ride back into town, hopped into the matatu to head home. While being distracted by a pickpocketing incident (my friend's phone was stolen from her pocket, but we managed to get it back...but that's a story that deserves a blog post of its own) we didn't realize that the dog had hoped into the matatu with us. Finally, as we settled down from the phone incident, we looked down to realize that this dog was next to us hiding under the seat. Simama, Simama (stop, stop) I said to the driver, but we were already on our way back to Nairobi and he didn't want to slow down. We moved to the back of the matatu and the dog followed us, hoping up onto the seat with us. He laid down and rested his head on my friend Janae's lap. At that point, we were sold. This dog was so well behaved and kind and just wanted someone to pay attention to him. We all started calling people to see if there was someone who would want to keep him. Finally, towards the end of our ride back to Nairobi, one of our friend's host mom agreed to keep the dog, saying that they had been looking for a dog but had not found one yet to adopt.

We reached Nairobi, scared that Baby Odo (what we named the dog) would run away as soon as we got out of the matatu. We were delighted to find that Odo stuck with us just like he had in Ngong, following us all the way back to my friend's house. A dozen strange comments from people on the street about white girls caring for a street dog and one mile later, baby Odo finally had a home.

We played with him for a while and then all went our separate ways, heading home to relay the details of our extremely strange day to our families.

Nearly a week later, telling this story still makes me laugh. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the best choice to befriend a street dog, as many dogs in Kenya have rabies, but baby Odo was an exception. I promise not to risk it with any more stray animals Mom and Dad :)

Tomorrow we're leaving for the coast (Mombasa) for two weeks. The first week we are staying in a rural village called Shirazi where they only speak swahili, have no running water or electricity. I'm SO excited. It's going to be tough, but I'm pumped to practice swahili 24/7. The fact that Shirazi is on the beach doesn't hurt either. The second week we are heading back to Mombassa to relax for a few days. We will have class in the morning, but the afternoons free to explore the city, shop and go to the beach. I'm not bringing my laptop and will be out of communication for at least one week. (I'm not sure whether or not I'll have access to computers when we head back to Mombassa.)

Be on the look out for some updates when I return. I'm sure there will be a TON.

Until next time

-Megan

me and Odo

proof that Odo actually came in the matatu with us

What a weekend

I don't really know how to begin this post, as so much has happened in two days, so I'll just get right to it.

Saturday morning we had a school trip for a few hours. We traveled to Mathare [ma-thar-ay], the second biggest slum in Kenya. You can tell wazungu (white people) are coming from a mile away because of the shouts echoing through the streets. Walking through Mathare, kids pour out of their 10 by 10 tin homes just to greet us with shouts of "how are you! how are you!" They shriek in excitement when you reach down to hold their hand or give them a gota. (fist bump) At one point I took out my camera to take a picture of some of the kids that began to follow me through Mathare. After taking one picture, ALL of the kids wanted their pictures taken. "Na mimi?! Na mimi?!" (and me?! and me?!) they shouted. Most of them have never seen a picture of themselves before and they began to giggle uncontrollably when I turned my camera around to show them their pictures.

this beautiful little girl held my hand and walked with me through Mathare

(click for a larger view)

Even having spent a decent amount of time in Kenyan slums from my previous trips to Kenya, I still can't explain what it's like to walk through a slum. Words will never be enough to fully convey the absolute poverty that exists in a slum like Mathare. Mathare is on a hill and we fought against the mud and the rivers of water streaming down the hill as we walked uphill towards our destination. I turned to Milton, one of the Kenyans walking with us, to comment on how hard it must be for people to get around with all the rain water coming down the hill and the huge piles of mud. His response? It hasn't rained in three days. I then learned that when it rains, houses flood completely, people can't move around easily and sewage flows down the hill into to the paths of the Mathare residents. And the water that streams into houses isn't just rain water--it's a mixture of trash (as there is no trash system set up), feces, water and mud. Imagine that water filling up your one room tin shack as you and your 5 brothers and sisters are trying to sleep, eat or get ready for school in the morning.

a view from the top of the hill in Mathare

(click for a larger view)

another view of Mathare- a trash infested river

After making our way up the hill we moved on to learn about MYSA (Mathare Youth Sports Association), the most successful youth program in any slum in the world. What once started as a small soccer program, has expanded to an all-encompassing organization, including education, athletics, community health programs and more. MYSA has over 21,000 Kenyans registered in their soccer program alone. Their program attracts youth through sports and then exposes them to all the other resources they have to help them better themselves and encourage them to strive for excellence and success. One of the coolest programs they spoke about was a scholarship program for members of MYSA. Secondary aged students (high school age) in MYSA can volunteer with different MYSA organizations to gain points. The top students at the end of the year receive scholarships from MYSA to pay for their school fees. It was so encouraging to see a community-based organization that's really making a remarkable different in the lives of people all around Kenya.

a street performance outside MYSA

Leaving the slum, we walked to a local Mathare restaurant to grab a quick lunch. The owners were beyond shocked when a group of 26 whiteys walked into their small one room restaurant. After sufficiently taking over their place, we all ordered Kenyan dishes. Chapati (an amazing tortilla like food-- a "staple" of Kenya) beans and rice was my chosen dish that cost me all of 120 shillings (about 1 U.S. dollar)

Saturday night we decided to check out nightlife in Nairobi and made our way to Westlands, an area of Nairobi that attracts a lot of expats and "smart" Kenyans (at least that's what the online reviews say.We didn't want to stay out too late so we decided to be back by 1 am at the latest. I asked my host mom, who seems pretty hip, what time people start going out and she said around 8:30 and that it gets pretty busy at 9. We decided 9 would be a perfect time then to start our night. We all commented on how early this seemed, but just went with it, not questioning it too much. After our 30 minute taxi drive to Westlands (costing us about 7 dollars total...loving these Kenyan prices) our taxi driver stopped in the middle of the road and said (in broken English), "here we are..have a good night." Being the most outspoken one in our group I quickly replied, "That's great but please park and walk us in." (we had no clue where this bar was) Despite being annoyed, (or so it seemed from the bits of swahili I picked up in his murmurs) he agreed and walked us up to the door. As we stood outside he walked into the bar and then walked back out saying, "ok! have a good night!" I asked if there were people in there and he said, "Oh yes! Have fun!" and then waved and walked away. You can imagine how surprised we were then when we walked in to find that we were not just the only wazungu in the whole bar, but the only people at all in the whole bar, except for the hired staff.

Deciding to make the most of it, we sat down and ordered some drinks, enjoying the DJ's attempts to reach out to us with his choice of "western music" --black eyed peas, celine dion and the bee gees--quite the mix. Eventually things began to pick up and around 11 we decided to check out the club right across from the first bar. This club, black diamond, was packed. It was a mix of expats and Kenyans and seemed to be really fun atmosphere. We found the rest of our friends who had arrived before us and began to dance with them. Quickly, we became quite the spectacle, as any group of 20 foreigners dancing would be in a local club. People found us amusing I suppose-- every American song that came on (about 2 out of every 3 songs) caused us to FREAK out and get so happy and dance like crazy the entire song. At one point I decided to take a break from dancing and find the bathroom, which required me to leave the dance floor and walk through the club's outside patio to reach the choo (toilet). Life off the dance floor was SO interesting and hilarious to watch. I want to compare it to some movie or funny show I've seen but I really just can't compare it to anything familiar. As I made my way to the toilet, I passed European looking men putting the moves on women of all races. Most notable though were the 60 year old white men sharing "romantic" moments and drinks with Kenyan women who could not have been any older than me. Quite disturbing. I don't know what the men were trying to do, (well actually I have an idea) but I'm pretty sure the Kenyan women were either just looking for a sugar daddy or their green card...maybe both..

We stayed out until around 2...a little later than originally planned..and when we left, everyone in the club was still going strong. Apparently, Kenyans will stay out until 6 am or later. When I expressed how crazy I thought this was to one of my Kenyan friends she joked with me and said, "Well we go out before it gets dark to ensure getting to the club safely and then just stay until it gets light to make sure we will have a safe journey home." We all survived our first nightlife experience (told you I'd be safe mom and dad :) ) and had a blast. We only have a few weekends in Nairobi together and are already making plans for what else we all want to do together before going our separate ways for our ISPs.

Elsa, me and Anna with my friend Sam's homestay brother, Brian, and his friend, Kevin

So that was my Saturday. I was originally planning on talking about my entire weekend in this blog post but I feel like I've already written a book just talking about Saturday, so I'm going to save my story about Sunday until tomorrow.

Yesterday was quite the day, I promise it will quite the story, so keep posted. Just a little preview...my next blog post will include: getting lost in a village, pick pocketers and taking a dog to Nairobi via matatu.

Until next time--

Megan

Ninapenda mahali hapa! (I'm loving this place!)

This week has been so busy! We started class on Monday and are at the school office from 8:30 am until 5 pm each day. Even though the days are long, I'm loving the teaching style and the material that we're learning. Swahili lessons start each morning at 8:45 and last until lunch at 12:30 (with a tea break at 10:30..Kenyans LOVE their chai) The lessons are extremely interactive with only 4 or 5 students in each class. There are 6 different swahili classes, divided by skill level, so everyone is learning at about the same pace in the classroom. There are 6 swahili teachers employed by SIT and each day they rotate classes, so I never tire of one teacher. The teachers are also so hilarious and keep the mood of class very light (while still teaching a lot.) They focus on speaking (instead of just writing or grammar) and we spend the 3 hours in the morning conversing with each other in swahili. I've learned SO much in one week. I feel like I learned more this week than I learned in a year of swahili back in the US.

The afternoons consist of health, development and society lectures as well as field trips to different NGOs and organizations around Nairobi. Yesterday afternoon a professor from the University of Nairobi lectured on the colonial history of Kenya and today we traveled to AMREF (African Medical and Research Foundation) for our afternoon "lecture" (more like field trip.) We finished the trip earlier than expected today and a few friends and I spent the rest of the afternoon at Java House (a coffee shop that has an extremely Western feel--we call it our little "slice of home") studying swahili together.

As the semester is progressing, our academic directors have begun to stress making a decision about our independent study projects (ISP). For those of you who haven't heard about ISP, this is one aspect that makes an SIT program unique from another study abroad program. The last month of my time abroad is reserved for a research project of my choosing. We literally can pick anything we want to study and go anywhere we want in the country for the last month to research this subject (except maybe dangerous areas like Turkana) Projects in the past have covered everything, ranging from the study of chapati (a traditional Kenyan bread dish) to the birthing practices of the Maasai tribe. I'm back and forth each day about what I want to study but am currently thinking about perhaps studying maternal mortality in a rural coastal village. Maternal mortality is a HUGE problem in Kenya (lifetime risk of maternal mortality : 1 in 38 Kenyan women) and is pushed aside by NGOs as the HIV/AIDs epidemic rages on in sub-Saharan Africa. I think it would be fascinating to talk to women in a rural village about access to skilled birth attendants, birthing practices and their beliefs of the causes of complications during childbirth.

All of these ideas, of course, could change tomorrow (those of you who know me well know that I change my mind...a lot) but for now that is what I am thinking about looking into for the last month. I'd love to combine the study with some sort of photography project in the village showcasing the daily life of the Kenyans I meet, but that would be something I would have to discuss with the community once I arrived to make sure I was respecting their privacy.

Finally, for a few photo updates:

This is where I take my BUCKET showers every other evening..it has been quite the experience.

This is our kitchen where Grace (one of the house helps) is washing dishes.

Our sitting room

This is my bed room, complete with princess stickers covering the walls and a beautiful blue mosquito net

The little diva herself, Milaika.

That's all for now! Until next time-

Megan

I have a family!

The last few days have been crazy--exploring Nairobi, getting to know everyone in my program better and adjusting to life in Kenya. But yesterday I finally felt like everything settled down a bit as I moved into my home stay :) I now have a home base- somewhere to go back to after a long day instead of all the moving around we have been doing thus far. It feels great :)

My family is SO sweet- Mama (Wanja is her name) is 38 and has a 7 year old girl (her name is Malaika--she turns 7 tomorrow actually) Baba Mordi (Dad in swahili--he's 42) is the east african regional director for a wildlife organization so he travels a lot but was home this weekend and I luckily got to meet him. He's leaving for Ethiopia tomorrow morning for the week, but will be back for the remainder of the month after that. My host mom has her phD in ichthyology(the study of fish) and works for the national museum doing research. She also travels a lot to attend conferences where she speaks about the depletion of fisheries around the world. Next month she will be gone for a week traveling to the US for a meeting (crazy that she will be in my country while I'm in hers) My little sister is SO cute. She's an only child and is loving having a bigger sister around. We've been attached at the hip since I arrived yesterday. She's such a diva and so hilarious. I'm sure I will be posting lots of Malaika quotes throughout the semester. Yesterday she asked me if I was pregnant (awesome) and today she was telling me I was crazy for not being married at 20.

Yesterday, right after my family picked me up from a retreat center where all us SIT students were staying, they brought me along to a wedding with them. Malaika was actually in the wedding as a flower girl. Being there was SUCH a cool experience. Kenyan weddings (or at least this one) are a mix between your average modern wedding and African traditional culture. I'll be posting pictures of the wedding on facebook when I upload a new album sometime soon! I thought it would be rude to ask but I'm pretty sure the people getting married are some sort of big deal in Kenya...one of the wedding guests was the attorney general of Kenya. There was also security there surrounding the church and scattered throughout the crowd during the ceremony. I think they were sketched out by me (I'm really pretty frightening) because some guy with an earpiece was glaring at me every time I looked over at him. He would look at me and then say something into his mic piece. It also could have had something to do with the fact that I was the only mzungu (Kenya's word for white person) in the whole crowd of about 500...who knows..

Today we spent the day at this pool near my family's house celebrating Malaika's 7th birthday. Again, everyone stared all day as I was the only mzungu in sight...I feel like I'm just going to have to get used to that.. Besides the stares, I really enjoyed the day-- I got to meet Malaika's cousins aunts and uncles and really felt like I was part of the family. Tonight when we got home I helped Grace (their house help) prepare dinner. My family speaks English SO well and they do not speak too much swahili in the house, but Grace speaks a lot more swahili and her English isn't as advanced..so she has agreed to take me under her wing and teach me a lot. As I helped her prepare stew (mom you'd be so proud--i'm finally learning to cook) she began teaching me new swahili vocab. I also told my family that tomorrow is an all swahili speaking day in the house to help me learn, so we'll see how that goes.

Tomorrow I also am attending my first full day of school at the office. 3 hours of swahili before lunch and then 3 hours of a health and society lecture after lunch. It finally feels like I'm studying abroad as opposed to just being abroad :)

Hmm..well I think those are all the updates for now! Until next time!

Megan