given how little I have written over the past two months,
and how little I have done today,
you would have thought,
that I would be able to generate a semi-interesting entry about something. Alas. It is just not that day.

Nairobi weather is snarly. I am beginning to think this country is unable to do anything in moderation. Today it rained and rained and rained. And I waited and waited and waited. It was unclear for a good part of the day exactly what I was waiting for. A diversion perhaps. I could have done with a diversion. I was at such a loose end at one point I actually went to see the doctor (this is what happens when your health care is fully covered - ha!). I needed a new prescription for malaria pills so it was a fairly useful visit as far as these things go.

Now you might recall I talked of Uganda this week. And you might wonder therefore why I am wandering around Nairobi listlessly getting wet. Well. There is a story. But this is neither the time nor place. I think the underlying problem is that there are just too many fabulous travel destinations. And I am currently unable to make decisions.

Last Monday, I place the burden of where we should go firmly on the shoulders of Abbie. Uganda it was. Until about 12 hours before she was leaving and a new stellar plan was devised. We would go to lake Bogoria and Baringo and I envisioned lazing (because that's all I am good for) in a devastating beautiful spot by the water with my book. It unravelled about 15 minutes after we reconnected, 5 days later. Abbie did go to the lakes, but just for a day trip. I came to Nairobi. I don't want to look at the lakes, I want to go there and breathe them in. So another time.

But now.. now its Monday night. Abbie is yet to arrive from Nakuru, and I am gearing up to make a meal that is shockingly the sort of dinner I would prepare for my father. It's not worth describing. Re-reading this.. its clear that there is a lot of things I am leaving out. Ho-hum. So back I go.

I came to Nairobi for a book reading. It was a lovely night. No it was a cold night, but I enjoyed it immensly. It wasn't so much a book reading either as much as many people reading from an anthology and then congratulating each other on how brilliant they all are. Ha. But the thing is, they are. It was very good. One of the pieces was astoundingly fabulous and I would go far, on a bumpy road, via Kenayn public transportation, even if it was a Tuesday, just to see her again. Another was so emotionally raw, I'm not sure how she could stand there and read it. A certain reader I favoured above all others.

So there are four more days left of this week of many choices. A decision must be made. We have gone the gamut of plans.. hiking Mt. Longonot, flying to Lamu. Each plan had a pit fall, but maybe we just didn't want to nail ourselves down. Currently Abbie is petitioning for Mombasa, and I am rooting for Arusha. So we'll see..

Hope this finds you all happy and healthy. b xx

Hello. I realise it has been nearly a month since I have last written but I have been tired, am tired and am currently bogged down with much work to get done by next weekend.. so I can go away and play! Hallelujah. In the next few weeks I am hoping to get to Uganda, then Masai Mara and finally heaven at the end of the rainbow Zanzibar.

Just to recap the past few weeks though.. July 20th my sister had two very tiny baby girls at 27 weeks and I flew to New York to meet Margo and Phoebe and play with their big sister in central park which was lovely. I came back here early August which I guess was only last weekend, stayed with Tanya(activities were confined to sleeping lots, eating Italian food, drinking wine and bitching about Kenyan men) and picked my friend and coworker from Leap (Abbie) up at the airport Monday morning before flying back to Kisumu. Then Eldoret.. where I have been learning Swahili all week. Eldoret was rainy and muddy and fairly miserable. My coldest week in Kenya, though the company was delightful. The language didn't stick at all but I learned how to say chicken shit and a few other choice phrases. Now I need to study study.

On Tuesday I did have a jet-lagged/Isabel Losada inspiration for my post VSO life, but it'll have to wait as I am tired, hungry and grumpy. Indian buffet tonight.. that should snap me out of it. Lots of thoughts. Sorry my communication has been dismal. bx

I am home. I missed my flight this morning and bought another ticket. So stupid. The traffic was unfathomable. No cats for me. I couldn't find a cage/carrier in Nairobi for love nor money. Don't expect they are much in demand, and the airlines require it. Think a 9 hour bus trip would be too cruel. Pat Moran did remind me in an email that "You have a bad history with cats young lady! Need I bring up our little grey friend?" - point well taken.

So I am here for at least 3 weeks. VSO have scheduled a national volunteer conference the weekend early August but it ends the day before my 1 week language training in Eldoret (also in Western Kenya).. so we'll see how it all pans out. To work... soon. Perhaps. and I will get through my inbox in the next week or two. Sorry. b xx

Warning! Exceedingly long entry.

July 15, 2007
Well it has been a long time since I have sat down and put my thoughts on the screen. But here I am, back in Kassa-stinkin-rani and looking at an afternoon of complete nothingness before me. I would have typically gone into the city to check my email (it’s been a week) but I don’t have keys and the girls won’t be back until evening.

So let me revisit my weeks.. its been so long since I blogged that I don’t recall where I was when I last posted. My past weeks of travels.. here I go..

Mombasa
Mombasa is the city I love best. It is laid back. The air feels and smells different. At night it comes alive. In Kisumu darkness means a deserted main street, in Nairobi there is always that hint of menace about being out after dusk. Mombasa begs you to socialize, to eat or both. In summary of my activities I consumed my body weight in Indian food, though I did have some very average Chinese food one night (the two bottles of wine made up for it!)

In Mombasa I stay at the polytechnic guesthouse in Tudor on the main island. It is 500 ksh ($7) for a room and really quite fabulous. The architecture is that of a hot weather place so there are small shaped openings in the brickwork that allow the breeze in and spray the ceiling with stars of light at night. The calls to prayer at 4 am seep into your dreams and everything in the world must surely be well in a room so peaceful.

Nadia arrived in Nairobi on July 1st, and we headed by bus to Mombasa the next day. We arrived at the polytechnic after dark and not knowing our bearings, we bought bananas, passionfruit and mango from the cart outside the school gate rather than search for a meal. So we didn’t get our room all sticky we sat in the bathroom, perched on the bath and ate gobs of juicy fruit around the sink.

Dorothy is the assessment teacher at Mombasa E.A.R.C. and to say she is nice is an understatement. Sometimes she seems to grateful I think she will cry. When she met Nadia, she said “but she’s just a baby!” and I thought she was going to spill over right there on the footpath. Nadia is very young looking and Dorothy was ecstatic that she was visiting for the month. When last I heard from them, they were staying with Dorothy’s parents in Taita-Taveta while they supported that district’s training.

The Mombasa training was interesting. The participants fought over semantics, gave each other a hard time over comments and questions and were prepared to battle out the nuanced meanings of completely irrelevant crap. The expression, ‘didn’t see the forest for the trees is apt’. But anyway. I gave them a pre and post quiz and was dismayed to find that the participants did WORSE on some of the questions after the training. What to do?

My time in Mombasa was surprisingly social, which added to the general appeal of the place. Margo is the wife of a Dutch volunteer and she attended the training. Nadia was also around, though Dorothy had found her a ‘nice Christian’ family to stay with for the duration of her visit. Danielle also turned up on the coast with a special education teacher from Hawaii, and then there was Vipin.

Vipin is an Indian volunteer based on the coast, though sadly leaving before I am ready! He took this 5 day meditation retreat which Tanya has since taken and we had a massive chat about life, peace, energy and all that sort of thing. I’ve missed having discussions about what the spiritualists say, something Phil was particularly good for, if a tad regimented. Anyway Vipin has convinced me that I must really do the course, and I think I will. We actually met over coffee and then had a fabulous dinner the following night. But his talk was timed well, as I have been busy and unaware. It got me thinking about what I eat, and how I need to focus and all that good stuff that makes me a healthier human being. Vipin doesn’t eat garlic (because it scatters energy) or onion (because it sucks energy) but I figured I needed to take simpler measures (e.g. less beer and chips).

I am blessed with a really interesting cast of companions these days, which means conversation is rarely dull. Tanya and Sarah of course are my closest friends, and guaranteed to make me laugh, though I consider Tanya an all around partner in crime, while Sarah is insightful, thoughtful and generally the more responsible in this household I have gate crashed. Mike is so deadpan, and will listen to all sorts of rubbish in such a way that you realize.. ‘oh, that was all sorts of rubbish.’ Potash whom I love to hate and hate to love is so observant and astute, I wonder if perhaps he knows me better than I know myself, Vipin and Surreal playing typecast spiritualists and I could go on.. fortunately for you, I won’t.

Nyahururu
So I left Mombasa and came back to Nairobi. I then headed up to Nyahururu ‘to get away’ (which of course is ridiculous, because 1. I AM away and 2. I have now been traveling since Easter!). About 30 minutes from my cheap inn of choice, it was pointed out that it is much faster to take the road north from Nakuru rather than the circuitous route via Nyeri, but oh well, there would have been no scrumptious pineapple proffered at a gas station that way. I did arrive, and the destination was well worth the journey. Nyahururu is the site of Thomson’s Falls. They are there, they are pretty, and if you are going to find a place to sit and read, it’s a better spot than most. The inn (Thomson’s Fall Lodge) is fantastically located, and while it’s food is mediocre at best, and the service worse than that, it is all made up for by the fireplaces in the rooms. As the nights have started getting chilly in central Kenya, you can’t beat the opportunity to create some heat in a hotel room. Ha.

Following Nyahururu came Nanyuki, and at some point out of town the matatu we were riding veered off the road onto a barely visible track. This is how I found myself on an impromptu game drive. The driver had taken a route that cut directly east (almost along the equator) which propitiously also ran along the boundary of one of the private game parks. The driver (now tour guide) kept slowing to make sure I had seen the zebra, rhinocerous and other assorted animals along the way. It was very amusing and quite delightful.

Nanyuki
In Nanyuki, the training went as scheduled. The highlight was definitely lunch at the Trout Tree restaurant. How I do love that place. And Claire was right about their chocolate cake.

Isiolo
From Nanyuki we went to Isiolo. Isiolo is like the last real Kenyan town in the north east. It’s like Marsabit and Wajir don’t really exist- mere mirages out there. The border between Somalia, Ethiopia and Kenya blurs in this vast tract of land. Apparently it’s lawless and it always has been. A few metres outside of Isiolo the paved road stops and they sign you out, I’m told it’s so the government can write off all responsibility for you! Hmm. The area covered by Isiolo E.A.R.C. is over 200 km in one direction. It’s massive. They have divided their district into 6 sub-divisions and they get to each one, once every 2 years. The place is hot and dusty and feels distinctly Arab. The camels roam around like goats might elsewhere. On Thursday morning as the taxi took us out the assessment center, I had a very surreal moment. The cabbie was playing local music and it was so perfect for this novel environment that it fit just like a movie soundtrack.

The second morning, the facilitators came to me and said “it’s Friday, the participants want to leave at noon so they can go to the mosque.” I asked them which session they planned to cut then, and they choose to omit session 4, which was good.. because I was supposed to lead it and I had a thumping headache from the plethora of Tusker Malts the previous night. Danielle and I conferred and then decided seeing as we had a whole afternoon off, we should go up to Sumburu/Buffalo Springs Nature reserve for a bit of game spotting. The hotel had given me a number of someone to call and we organized a vehicle and some guides. Then at noon as the participants got ready to leave I told them I’d see them tomorrow and we would start on time. Ali looked at me in confusion and said “so they won’t be back this afternoon?’ to which I said “what? They’re coming back?”
“yes at 2.”
“but then why did we cut session 4 this morning?”
“….”
“okay, well that’s great.” And in the spirit of abandoning any sense of responsibility about why I was in Isiolo in the first place “.. but I won’t be here. I’ve organized a game drive.”
Samburu & Buffalo Springs Nature Reserve
We were picked up at our hotel at 1 o’clock and the afternoon was glorious. I could bang on and on about African landscapes, gently rolling hills in gradiated hues of shadow, big blue skies smudged with cloud, panoramas to fill your soul and what not, but I’ll just upload the photos next week.

Very early into our excursion we came upon a leopard in a tree, perhaps 2 metres from us and at eye level with where we were standing in the vehicle. The scaredy puss in me was very uncomfortable with the proximity. What to say? Amazing. Beautiful. The rest of the day was spent with elephants. There were elephants here, there and everywhere. Around each bend, behind each tree. Who’d have thought. No lions, few giraffe but lots of lovely pachyderms. After leaving the park we drove through Archer’s post which was busy with residents milling about as the sun went down. The size of the dot on the map betray’s the town’s size. In fact even the word ‘town’ is an exaggeration. As we headed back to Isiolo the stars came out one by one. It was so serene. Even my (probably unwarranted) fear of being hijacked by bandits couldn’t stop it from being a gorgeous drive home.

Nyeri
Saturday afternoon we finished up in Isiolo and made it as far south as Nyeri. We checked into the Green Hills Hotel and I crawled into bed to make a serious attempt to finish my book. I was reading “The Post-Birthday World” by Lionel Shriver and it is EXCELLENT. One of the smartest and best reads I have ever encountered. Definitely a top 5 book for me (and in company with her book “We need to talk about Kevin”). It’s funny, but this is the second book I have read recently –the other was short stories “I think of you” (?) by an Egyptian author – that has a main female character reflecting on the home she shared with a now ex- love. Something I can relate to right now as Phil’s Wood street apartment is such a powerful symbol (maybe not the right word??) of our relationship for me though the my memory of that space is now transposed with Melissa’s changes (and she’s much more gifted at home decorating than me). Perhaps the places stay in your mind longer, and present themselves for mulling over more frequently because they are less painful to reflect on than the person you shared them with. Or perhaps because a relationship occurs in the area between two people and this is usually encapsulated in the place you live, this is the concrete memento of the relationship. Anyway, the book rocks.

I didn’t get the book finished last night because at about 11:30 pm I found myself in the hotel’s basement club. I said ‘club’, but think of a high school cafeteria with a D.J. Here it is Saturday night and Danielle, Potash and I are literally the only people in the place save the staff. A single curvy female in a track suit did come in and dance alone and then a man in cowboy boots and a cowboy hat joined the floor with lots of attempts at square dancing mixed with god knows what. A couple came in later to make out along the back wall, but that was it. So we did what was called for, namely, ordered several more beers each, and started dancing. Potash did his ‘this is how a white boy dances’ imitation which was fine, until around 2 am when my dancing had pretty much deteriorated to that same flinging of limbs. It was a tremendously fun time.

So here I am. 4 pages later, I think I have recapped the highlights. Danielle leaves tomorrow and I head back to Kisumu Tuesday for 3 possibly 6 weeks in Western Kenya (can you believe it!) with my two new kitty cats. I had a tempting offer to take a dhow trip next week from Lamu to a tiny island north of Pate and south of Somalia (as far as I can tell), but in a practical moment I sadly declined. Pirates and beach boy fantasies aside I need to go home and recalibrate.

What a lucky girl I am. B xx

i wrote an epic 4 page blog entry and it isn't opening from my zip. alas. i will try another computer and see how it goes. i will be devastated if it is lost in a computer void.

i am in Nairobi albeit briefly. last week took me through Nyahururu, Nanyuki, Isiolo and Nyeri.. the missing entry will fill in the blanks. back home tomorrow. b xx

I am in Mombasa. What a delightful place to be. The air just smells better here. Mombasa is to Nairobi what Nice is to Paris (San Diego is to New York??) It's the laid back smaller sister.

The training is going fine. I am sick to death of district trainings and only have 2 more to go. This one is better than most though the group will argue semantics(e.g. educational record vs. educational background) without regard to the point of the exercise until it degenerates into complete mayhem. With a fight to the death policy, participants get increasingly stubborn and insistent as the discussion advances. Who'd have thought there was so much to debate when talking about speech and language in special needs populations. I completely abandoned the session on measurable goal setting becuase I didn't have the mettle at 4pm to continue. Perhaps it is best dealt with as they are creating their IEP's (Individualized Education Plans - taken straight out of the US and plopped without consideration of context or supporting systems into Kenyan law).

So. Once again. Too exhausted to write much, nearly finished Tom Robbin's "Fierce Invalids Home From Hot Climates." It is such a joyeus romp of a book I will be sad to read the final paragraph. I could write the man a love letter I have enjoyed it so much. On deck is Lionel Shriver's newest and "The Icarus(sp?) Girl" by Helen O-someone.

soon. b

Hello.. A brief update, but very brief I am afraid.. in Nairobi.. headed to Mombasa tomorrow. 2 more weeks on the road and 3 more district trainings to go. Then me and the 2 kitties are heading west for about 3 whole very dull weeks in my aqua house, Kisumu. I am hoping to be bored senseless so i can get around to the multitude of things I haven't done but should have.. I may take a brief personal break north to Lake Baringo for Sarah's birthday but that is not yet confirmed.

This weekend I came to Nairobi for a speech therapist meeting (all 6 Kenyan based SLP's in the same room- you can bet it was a jolly old time) and the American embassy 4th of July party, but then i didn't go because rumour had it my Kenyan friend would not be admitted. It may have been myth but I really couldn't be bothered to traipse all the way out there to test it. I spent the weekend at Upper Hill Campsite with many many many Peace Corp volunteers who were also there for the above mentioned party and a 4th of July Toga Party Prom. Yes. If you think it seems unusual to have a prom when you are graduated from college, or strange to have a 4th July toga party, then you are not alone in your thoughts. My neighbor Brian was there though and he is a rather amusing chap.

So. Last week I was in Siaya, the week before has been completely obliterated from my mind.. it shall all resurface in let's say ... August. But I am well. A little moody at times, but apparently i can blame it on my malaria medication. hahahaha. actually that may well explain why I am so freakin' tired all the time.

There is it. The play by play. In a severe break of my non-meat eating principles I have of late consumed bacon, 1 sausage and 1/4 of a fried chicken. Flexitarian.

Must fly back to Kassarani to catch up with my girlie pals. love, love. b xx

oh.. and I might be moving. which is very exciting to me.. but it's only just a thought these days.. hoping to become a reality sometime in the next 6 months.

June 18, 2007

I haven’t got the energy to write really. I did take a nap today, but I used the recharged brain power on editing an article I have quite literally been writing since February. I think it’s finally done. I would read it and bore myself so it needed work! Ha. I was inspired to do it tonight because I sent a draft copy to Martin in Mumias and basically my overt fawning over his amazing work means the rest of the team feel jilted (more on this later). In reworking the piece I put in some lip service to the dedicated leadership of the assessment program. I’ve never really done well respecting work hierarchies.

I had my palm read yesterday. It was a fairly gutting experience. Fortunately I was just finishing up Benjamin Hoff’s “The Te of Piglet” and I thought his words on Taoism were particularly useful for me as a coping strategy!! Ha. Okay I exaggerate, but only slightly. When Surreal got to Danielle’s palm he said “this one is much better!”

In a nutshell, I have a temper (well Brenda does mean ‘firebrand’ or something like that) I need to control –and wearing a brown sapphire will help me with this – I suck at relationships and will continue to keep leaving them, I should chant the guard three mantra 100x each morning which will have a very positive effect on my body and increase my success (? I think.. sun line), I am prone to diabetes and need to take care of my health in my 40’s reducing sugar and alcohol consumption, and to conclude if I “feel salty.. try cold water”! On my head was the implication. The bright side I will always have lots of friends.

The Taoists are all about transforming the negative into positive.. and like that wonderful story in Jon Muth’s “Zen Shorts” what appears bad may be good. Good may be bad.

So. Where am I? In Machakos.

Last night was spent in Kitui. We did some classroom visits and are now at the Lysak Hotel which has the feel of an upmarket trailer park. The district training starts tomorrow and we will be here until Thursday afternoon. Danielle – a volunteer speechie from Chicago- is with me for the month. Immediate plans -- We head to Nakuru Friday to catch up with the lovely Sofia, then onto Kisumu for Siaya’s district training next week. I still haven’t written about Mwingi.. and I wanted to tell about a most fabulous Ethiopian meal I had Saturday night, but alas… bed beckons (actually I have been in it for hours now, but I’m going to sleep). B xx

Abbie – this is for you. August. Training in Kitui. Week 3. Sign language in the morning, speech and language in the afternoon. More soon.

June 10, 2007
Who steals my days and tucks them into the crevices of my brain as mere memories? I’m constantly in shock, physical shock at the date.

I am in Kassarani tonight. I am staying at the Sports View Hotel and as I had John drop me off before taking my friends home across the field I wondered why I had decided to stay here and not at Sarah and Tanya’s! CDEP (Children with Disabilities Empowerment Project) is going into its 4th year so there is a week long planning meeting with all the primary and secondary districts. I was invited to join in proceedings and did so today though I will leave tomorrow for Mwingi.
Mike Terry the other VSO speechie in Kenya is coming with me and we are getting a ride from a VSO driver in a car. Relative luxury! We’ll be back Wednesday afternoon though.

This is a complete aside- There is a woman .. Wambui.. that works for VSO and she is my hero. She has been working with VSO and the ministries of this and that for years and years and years. I have seen her name on old school meeting reports.. anyway she is here, and I love her. She can explain everything. Why thing are done the way they are, which things are cultural, which are because of the government, which are inexcusable.. it’s fantastic. I now know that the Ministry of Education condones sitting stipends for conferences because they know they pay teachers so poorly and its one way to infuse their salary and get them to additional trainings! Anyway today after a presentation Wambui called this women out about all sorts of issues she had in a way I have previously not seen before. Usually I find at workshops people say lots of nice meaningless things but Wambui cut the crap and was all business. She wants to run the best project possible, and I think she is amazing. I am so glad to be a part of this work when I meet her. All the districts are here actually so it is nice to see the people you are working with come together in one room.

Anyway. This weekend. In a weird moment I decided to come to Nairobi a day early, and because I am so sick of Easy Coach taking 9 hours I thought I would come on a shuttle (just a newer mildly fancier version of a matatu). It was fine. The waiting 75 minutes for it to fill was making me anxious because I didn’t want to arrive in Nairobi in the dark, but other than that I think it is much more convenient than the stupid bus which moves at the pace of a one legged grandmother. One of the other participants at this workshop was complaining about the journey. He said “I am so exhausted after I have spent all those hours dancing around in the back of the bus.” It’s a bit like that. But I got here.

Sunday I went to Village Market the mzungu enclave for United Nations and American Embassy families. It was all that you would expect.

So here I am. Tonight. Crossed legged on bed in pyjamas. Was looking for the Nairobi news of the bombing today but all I can get on my TV in the room is the Al Jazeer network and they don’t have news for another hour. I was actually downtown today for dinner. Fede is leaving Kenya tonight which is sad as he was always enjoyable company. Tanya, Sarah, Fede, Mike and I met for Chinese and Tanya made the farewell appropriately teary and dramatic. I am such a hard hearted Harriet. It makes me think I need to excavate my emotional core.

So… this is my update. About as exciting as a plate of ugali. Sorry. Right now I work, sleep and when I am staying with Sarah and Tanya I giggle to myself in the kitchen (per them!). That’s all. B xx

June 4, 2007 - How on earth can it be June already?

Whenever I read anything by Mem Fox I want to change my life. I quite literally find my mind churning about everything I have ever read, or written. I ponder my teaching strategies and the way I am training adults and I want to overhaul the whole lot. Do the people I am working with know that I think what I do is important? They need to know and should know by the way I act says Mem Fox (more or less!).

I am in the midst of Ishmael Beah’s “A Long Way Gone” and while I like his writing and I think the book pretty much reads itself, it’s depressing. It is really, really depressing. I fell asleep mid chapter in Mumias and had a yakky dream about it and I was none too pleased. In case you haven’t caught the Starbucks hype about this book it is written by an ex-boy soldier in Sierra Leone.

Last night I was exhausted. I wanted to go to bed, I wanted to read, but the thought of that book actually made report writing seem like a pleasure. So I left Beah in the spare room and snuggled down with Mem’s “Radical Reflections. Passionate opinions on teaching, learning and living.” It’s been a long time since I read Mem’s adult stuff, but it’s a treat. She just gets so excited about what she does and loves teaching children to read so much that I can’t but help think I should be doing more. I am bored with the district trainings, and no doubt this is affecting my delivery to teachers, which in turn affects their learning and the way they might approach their class the following week. I think it might be time to shake things up a bit. Ha!

The participatory approach we use isn’t always well received, and I think part of the reason is because we aren’t having fun with it. It’s an approach designed to engage learners and get discussion going. Unfortunately the formality that it is being presented with is stifling. I am just so sick of presenting the same information in the same way, I am hardly inspiring the other facilitators to consider their methods or these teachers to provide language rich environments in fun and novel ways. So, I am going to change some of the sessions up because variety is the spice of life. Also the last session is consistently cut short because of the closing remarks and certificate presentations. I’m going to revise the way we do day 3. I’m going to make it fun and energetic even if I have to fake it. I’m in Kakamega and Vihiga this week. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Hi. Sorry about the lack of communication both on my blog and email. I am busy. Busy and tired. My predominant states. But I am well. I know Nairobi is taking a bit of a hit in the media.. but I continue on my way. To Mwingi tomorrow. I have a blog entry to upload, just can't manage to access my zip from this computer. Soon. b xx

Hello. My attempts at getting caught up this weekend were thwarted. Friday I spent the entire day and better part of the evening writing and uplaoding an article for Young Child Magazine.. and since then.. hhhm. Nothing.

Kisumu isn't a great place to be right now. Thursday night 7 armed robbers held up a guest house in my neighborhood slashing the throat of the security guard and raping a guest. The whole ordeal lasted 2 hours apparently until the police came in and killed all the bandits.

Friday night I went out for Indian with friends. Vica decided to go home, but I went out for drinks with the boys. When I called Pascal our tuk-tuk driver to come and get us about an hour after he picked Vica up the conversation went something like this:
"Hi Pascal"
"mwjewjgfvsf,gnsljg"
"Pascal, I can't really hear you. We are at Kengeles can you come and pick us up?"
"BRENDA"
"yes"
"YOU'RE NOT HEARING ME BRENDA. WE WERE ROBBED"
"oh"

Apparently, (and just let me interject there is a much longer and more convoluted version to this story) early Friday night some armed people stole a car and had been going around picking people up as if a cab and robbing/beating them. This same taxi was trailing the tuk-tuk Vica was is and when Pascal slowed they cut it off in front and held them up. Becuase Pascal got out of the tuk-tuk and started yelling, nearby security responded by blowing whistles and the men jumped back in the vehicle and drove away, leaving behind someone who had been beaten and trapped in the boot for the last 2 hours and was apparently the owner of the car?? Anyway. Not good. Thank god for my drinking habit. Vica is fine, but they got her passport which is a little tragic seeing as she was supposed to leave the country yesterday. Then apparently Saturday (also in my neighborhood) a few cops were shot. Super.

With 5 of the 20 district trainings done, I am looking forward to being able to stay in my house this week while I support Kakamega and Vihiga. I'll leave again next weekend.

LAst week I did get some letters written, so hallelujah.. check your mail boxes in about a month.. you may be a lucky recipient. ha. tired, me. x

May 29, 2007
I am in Mumias. I love Mumias. No idea why. Anyway.. backing up.

Yesterday I went to the doctor. She prescribed me cough medicine. I wondered if it might be allergies, she prescribed me allergy medicine (a whole 5 days worth). I said, “you know, I only called because I have had this for a month and my friends are teasing me about tuberculosis” (P: “it would be funny if I caught a third world disease from a white girl.” me: “hilarious”). So the doctor decided I should have a sputum test, an arm stick and a chest x-ray. Not in any particular order mind. All three. At my leisure. I assumed that the coughing up chunks of phlegm into small vials would be enough but no. She even gave me three empty film containers for my samples which was very kind of her. I’m not in Kisumu for 3 straight days in a row until late July so we’ll see. I think it’s just a perseverative cold. I have also thought it was lactose intolerance. And then I wondered if I just coughed when I got over excited. Ha!

Anyway, I traveled to Kakamega yesterday afternoon to meet with the EARC team there. Of course there are issues with money from the Ministry of Education so there are issues with funds for the training. Apparently the secondary district EARCs were only given 10,000 ksh (< $US150) to run a three day workshop for 20 people (100,000 shillings is a more realistic figure when you factor in travel allowance, meals, materials etc.) My understanding was they were getting 70,000 ksh. I had a very small rant. It was minute. Then I headed to Mumias.

This morning I arrived at the assessment center at 8 as directed. 30 minutes later we headed over and it occurred to me that the training was scheduled to start at 8. Nice. At the pace of a melting iceberg (though I guess these things are happening much faster these days with global warming and all..) the participants and facilitators gathered in the one room. The training began.

Now. I have to report that Mumias is one of the leading EARCs for all sorts of reasons. They are competent, knowledgeable, and my expectations were high. In all honesty though, I have no idea what they did with their training money. They didn’t copy participant manuals, all the supplies they have I gave to Martin at the conclusion of the Nairobi workshop and no one is staying at a hotel. In addition, instead of providing meals they are giving participants money for lunch. Which means, no one eats. I know they got their full amount of money because they got their cash from VSO so its something I will have to talk with them about. On top of all this, the training is being held in a school classroom which if it wasn’t noisy enough has a pitiful half drowned kitten mewling outside of it.

The training is going well though. The participants are active and they get it when I make a joke! Martin and Sellar are both prepared and able to respond appropriately to comments and questions. Half way through jeopardy (our end of day review) though it began to rain. It was unbelievable. The noise was so loud, no-one could be heard, so we quit the game and then sat there in silence while water seeped down the walls, blew through the holes where windows ought to be and tip-tapped through the ceiling. It was so noisy we couldn’t work, but so stormy we couldn’t leave. When the rain abated we all fled home or to somewhere more hospitable. Martin and I went to tea.

So. Here I am. On my hospital issue single bed at the St. Mary’s Guest House. I am tired beyond belief but attempting to slog through some of my computer work. Fortunately it’s a three day weekend so I can catch up on reports then. I am sequestering myself. I heard on the radio that there will be a dip in temperatures tonight. Kisumu will even get down to 17 degrees celcius. I love that this is considered a cold spell.

May 30, 2007
Lately I have been getting text messages from a boy that is far away. Only his English isn’t very good so the sentiments seem like poetry (a little abstract, with delightful but novel phrasing). Someone else I know, greets me with sweet endearments (“bunny” I mean really?). But I like it. I really like it. All of it. Of course I do.. it makes me feel thoroughly girlie. What’s more, as I enjoy being wooed with ridiculous lines, as a result I find myself writing excruciatingly wet texts .. let’s see “it’s rainy in Mumias (no pun intended). And in my heart to be so far away.” Good god, who am I?

So I was discussing this all with a friend of mine recently. We were mulling over the delights of males who use flowery language (Kenyan men would seem to excel at this.. combined with flattery). This friend told me that she dated a man for much longer than she should of because he wrote poems for and about her. Long and descriptive stanzas about the way the way she walked down the street, how he felt when he saw her, and why she was the light of his life (even though he was a complete jerk). She typed them all up and bound them, and resisted the temptation to dump him in continuing hopes of more love in rhyme. We thought about all this and decided that while the words might not all be sincere, they were probably true at the time, if even for only the briefest of moments and that’s what made it all so captivating. Hope and romance meet reality for a light lunch.

Given our responses (and I realize I am generalizing on an n of 2 here) I wonder why the average American male is so averse to this kind of thing? Women it would seem love it, and there is very little competition in the sweet word arena. It doesn’t even require much imagination, just the willingness to potentially embarrass yourself (and what girl would be foolish enough to shun your efforts?)!

I just finished Lady Oracle by Margaret Atwood and the heroine secretly writes period romances and feels that she has the fantasy life every woman wants. But if every woman wants a romantic fantasy life, why haven’t more men realized they just need to suck it up and utter a few sweet bullshit lines every now and then? Wouldn’t it work to their advantage? Make their life easier? Psychologists say if you fake happy, your brain doesn’t realize and responds as if you are happy, so in the same vein of thinking, if you tell a girl she is beautiful like the moon reflected in the ocean, she will feel this way, act this way and in turn will be seen this way. Ha. What do you think?

Regardless, I think it wouldn’t hurt if more boys just said more nice things.

Hello. I am just briefly writing to say.. I am back in Western Kenya. Came back Friday but headed straight up to Kakamega Saturday morning. Sarah and I took Tanya to the very peaceful Rondo Retreat for her birthday. I was in bed by 8:30 last night with a very good book (currently reading Margaret Atwood's "Lady Oracle" and enjoying it immensly), while the rained pummelled our lovely colonial accomodations. Heavenly..

So. Won't be back on internet until next Friday. I owe so many people long, long emails (Laura, Mimi you are on the top of my list I promise), my inbox needs some work.

Anyway, tomorrow I am headed to Busia and Mumias, but I will have gathered myself by this time next week. Really. b xx

May 20, 2007

I am in Kitui and once again I am the only person in the whole hotel. A strange sensation. I am in Kitui Tourist Hotel, though unbeknownst to me a room had been booked at ‘Multipurpose’ where the training is being held. I guess I will go there tomorrow. Or maybe I won’t. I guess I should have a look at it first. Of this hotel all I will say is.. the rough guide is very very wrong. It’s location doesn’t even approximate the one marked on their map. It is barely even in the same town as their map. Subsequently I spent a good hour wandering around with my heavy back pack until my hands went numb and I asked a succession of people where I was going. Someone at the “Traveller” restaurant volunteered to drive me and so I jumped in! Claire had given me the directive “it’s down the hill from the law court” this didn’t prove particularly useful as I had no idea where the that was either.

Kitui appears to be about 100,000 more times interesting than Kajiado. Maybe that’s unfair. But for one, it’s bigger. For two, it’s quite beautiful. Rolling hills that open on to lovely views. Surreal (a Kitui based VSO volunteer) assures me its quite boring. Kitui, by the by, is also the location that Peace Corps use to train their Kenya based volunteers (there are about 150 in country at any one time I believe) so I am told at times it is overrun with wzungu (us white folk).

Sometimes it is easy to be complacent about what I do. Lately I am a little pissy with teachers because they are so clueless (my perception not necessarily reality). The other day I actually said “if you call a child stupid or an idiot, you really need to rethink your choice of career” an immensely unsupportive thing to say even if I believe it to be true. Anyway.. I forget my ‘people are doing the best they can with their resources’ mantra and want to rant about the need for adults to take responsibility for their own learning. I am predictably stirred up whenever 1. people are really bloody late and show up at leisure and then put on their feedback form they wish there was more time and 2. the issue of their sitting stipend comes up (yes, you can’t run a workshop unless you feed people, pay for their transportation and give them a stipend to attend.. the first two I get, the last infuriates me). Anyway, sometimes I am a fairly abrupt deliverer of information.. and then I get feedback like this (see below) and I think.. you know what.. these teachers really are doing their best, and they really do care.

- good, keep up. Do it to the rest of the teachers in schools in Kenya
- you have changed my family, life and career as well to the better

In response to three things learned during this workshop one participant said the following:
• It is good to encourage every attempt
• I should not be shouting at pupils
• Every child when given the right environment can perform
Hallelujah. I can quit and go home now. One person heard me. Bev would be so proud.

May 22, 2007
Last night the feeling of ‘life is good’ settled on me like my covers as I crawled into bed. Kitui feels like the countryside. If I had a different life, I’d be tempted to pile my family in my car and go for a drive. I have managed to spend much of my time here lost. I have set off each day with the misguided notion that I know where I am going, and sure enough, many hills and valleys later, it occurred to me, not only did I have no idea where I was going, I had no idea where I was.

The training is going well and Abbie and I are probably going to come back and visit Kitui ECE (Early Childhood Education) Training Center in August. Right now I am attempting to write a paper about early childhood in Kenya based on my experiences last summer. Okay.. well I am not yet attempting to write it, but its been on my mind since January and the deadline is June 1st. I was reading through Kenya’s Early Childhood Curriculum syllabus today. My favorite part was under religious studies and it looked like this:

19.2.3.9 Things created by Allah
• Universe

End of lesson. I liked the succinct nature of the syllabus.

Speaking of the universe. Recently I thought to myself 'what I need is a doctor!' It was two fold. Firstly I need to go to a doctor, because I have this nasty chest congestion which has not cleared in nearly a month now (I cough up the contents of my lungs daily which is fairly nasty). Also, I had decided that I liked Phil and I liked our life together, but I needed someone who wanted to live in the developing world.

Last night I was sent a doctor. I couldn’t stop laughing as I drank down my beers. I had never specified what I really wanted and well.. where to begin? Mid conversation I would just crack up. I really can’t explain.

May 23, 2007

I am in Nairobi. It's Tanya's birthday and we are going for Japanese food tonight. Hurrah. Will head back to Kisumu Friday I think, spend the weekend with Tanya and Sarah in Kakamega and then up to Mumias for their district training on Monday. I love the Mumias team. Martin called me today to tell me he had only assigned me one session! It's the first session, the intro to definitions.. I already loved Martin, now it is the undying variety. They are so boldly confident that they know their stuff. I love it. I am glad. Plus I am sick of doing sessions 2,4,5,7 and 9! I am supporting two simulatneous trainings next week so I also plan to be in Busia at some point.

Alright. Need to go to Kassarani and wash my hair. It's nasty. I forgot shampoo/conditioner to Kitui. Soon. B xx

Kajiado - Thursday May 17, 2007

Well.. tonight can probably rank in the top 20 wierdest nights of my life. Really. But let me back up.

This week has sucked on the whole. Though my blues only lasted a scant 24 hours, no I’d say more like 30 hours I still prefer happiness over my crabby pants self (who doesn’t?).

Monday. I took easy coach from Kisumu to Nairobi. Jumped off at Westlands, had a drink with my Kenyan boy, took a cab to Kassarani and was blessed with Sarah’s cooking.. nothing less than a wonderful vegetable curry (coconut milk and eggplant seemed like such novel flavours).

Tuesday, I went to KISE (Kenya Institute of Special Education) with Tanya to meet the staff, and then giggling to myself over the previous nights conversations I headed into Nairobi. My mood pretty much plummeted hence forth. No one was available to meet with me at VSO, and my long list of chores (including embassy visits) seemed impossible. At 1pm I found myself at lunch with Potash and 5 hours and too many beers later I realized that not only had I not done anything useful with my day I hadn’t gone to the store or started dinner for Tanya and Sarah. Fortunately when I arrived in Kassarani Tanya beckoned me from the balcony of a pub and several drinks later I completely bailed on the pretense that I was making dinner and we munched on chapattis as we walked home in the dark. None of this sounds terrible, but by the next morning (and I did go to bed at 8:30) my shit colored glasses were firmly in place and I had a “what’s the point?” attitude about just about everything. As Sarah and I rode into town she tolerated this line of thought for a whole lot longer than she should of. We did email, had coffee and I decided not to go to Kajiado as scheduled. Instead I went back to Kassarani meditated (which turned into a nap) and attempted to do some computer work. I also swam with Tanya when she got off work. The pool she goes to is a funny place really. It’s the Kassarani sports complex. It looks like it was built by the Russians and although both Tanya and Sarah go there often I find the place desolate and a bit freaky. But afterwards I made dinner and my mood generally improved (exercise perhaps?).

So this morning.. made a short but seemingly epic journey to Kajiado. About one hour north of the Tanzania border it’s an interesting part of the country. When you come out of Nairobi the plains to the south open up before you and Kajiado is one of those places where you can experience the full bredth of the horizon. Today the sky was low and heavy with cloud, and honestly for this one horse town it seemed apt.

Alex my albino colleague and counterpart is really quite knowledgeable about all sorts of things, and I was impressed at the level of organization for the training. They are running the workshop in a ministry administration lecture room (sounds much fancier than it is) but the people doing the food are a huge improvement over Kisumu’s caterers. Really I just have a secret penchant for mdazi (sp?) and we get them twice a day with chai.

So, each district perceives me to play a different role and before I offer or refute any service provision I try and find out exactly what it is they want from me. With Kajiado I have no idea. I think they want me to marry a Masai man and stay permanently, but I pointed out it had already been done and the book already written so perhaps I need something different for myself. Claire only came to Kajiado once, and I can’t recall if this is the district she avoided because she didn’t like a staff member or it was some other.. anyway the coordinator for Kajiado EARC is an interesting character and an aspiring politician (though his candidacy won’t be official until July!). When he offered to take me out dancing during my next visit and I nodded absently I was suddenly uncertain about what exactly I had agreed too. He also promised me a position on his staff if he was elected if I would volunteer to support his campaigning by writing documents. My English he claimed was better than his. Possibly. I pointed out that VSO probably wouldn’t be that hot on me creating political material, especially when it was for the opposition party.

But anyway, politics aside, I can’t remember another evening, when I’ve been in a dive bar, drinking warm beer in a small and unalluring town with a couple of new colleagues and two other unknown men eating fish, ugali and skumawiki with my hands whilst they all chomp on goat bones. And its times like this when I am thankful. Because .. all along.. isn’t this exactly what I had in mind for my life? Lala salama. B xx

May 18, 2007

Today I am bored. What a nasty, dirty word. One I try to avoid at all costs. I have re-written a developmental play group article I am working on with Martin, I have attempted to pen a letter to Jamie, I have created fancy pants Ministry of Education certificates and now.. I am just trying to keep my eyes open, because it would be rude to sleep in the training. They are currently writing educational goals. This activity may have been going on for the last 20 minutes. Roll on 4:00.

(the boredom was catching by the way.. at least 2 other people pronounced they were bored later this same day. oh dear.)

Today

Headed to Kitui today. Soon. b x

I am back in Nairobi after two fairly interesting nights in Kajiado. I will attempt to get on internet tomorrow and upload my thoughts. 2 district trainings down 12 more to go.

Hot. Tired. May go out dancing. b xx

My blogging abilities have gone down the toilet. Too tired to write. Too disorganized to get around to uploading things I do write. Sorry.

Great weekend. But that's another story for another time. The highlight.. perhaps spending the afternoon by the pool at Kiboko Bay drinking cold Tusker Malt. Headed to Nairobi tomorrow. b xx

p.s. i forget the words exactly but i was told my last post was terrible, pompous, something something, contrived, superficial... you get the gist. My apologies.

May 10, 2007

Kisumu is in the midst of district training. It is challenging my inner control freak. Really. Does it matter where the chart paper is posted on the wall. No. Of course not. But I still have to squelch this desire to have things happen the way I would do it. I am just in a supporting role. Oh, that’s right.

I must say Caro and Silas are doing very very well. I did get this overwhelming sinking feeling during the assessment session though. I wondered.. what is the point of doing a speech and language training when children with special needs are basically sitting in classrooms in their own little universe, while teachers do what they do without ever attempting to meet the child at their level. So basically as we talk about service provision, we are talking about actually finding out what the kids know. I keep chanting “everyone is doing the best that they can with what they have, everyone is doing the best they can with what they know.” It’s true. I need to develop better checklists to assess the teachers and measure their behavioral change.

“Let’s take time and pray for our tea” says Silas. Here. Here.

Evening

I have been eating so much raw onion lately I am officially undateable. Guacamole on toast tonight which is a considerable step up from the two packets of Maggi/ramen noodles last night. Tuesday night I did make a pretty stunning Provincial Tomato soup if I may say so myself. It was so weird though.. I was standing in the kitchen cooking, listening for Brian to arrive and I swear I heard a key turn in the lock, like “honey I’m home.” But the thing is I don’t even have a lock like that, I have bolts and a padlock. It must have been my dismissed inner housewife calling.

Getting home from work at 6 pm is significantly worse than getting home at just say 3 or 4. I was very very cranky this afternoon because I had to go back into town and print off the certificates for tomorrow’s ceremony. I would have suggested someone else do it, but it occurred to me that my colleagues don’t actually type anything themselves. They hand write documents and take them to a lady downtown who does the typing and prints it out. Not particularly expedient. There was also a threat of no transportation, which never really materialized as an issue. I would have been doubly cranky if I had to hoof it through Kondele at 7pm.

Speaking of which.. I came home the other day, took my shoes off, walked in and stood on something. Disgustingly enough is was a massive roach. I was so disturbed to have killed in such a manner. Urrggh.

Anyway, this week is one of minimal excitement. They are building an actual wall around the compound so now it actually seems like one (was a barbed wire fence covered in blossoms of bougainvillea (sp?) before). More privacy now, less light, I’m not thrilled about it, but I may create a potted garden by my back door. Sadly the chickens and goats can’t really wander through.

Kajiado’s training is next week so I am going to head to Nairobi on Monday I think. I’ll write next week. b

May 8, 2007

It is after midnight and I am not sure why I am awake. That is.. I have been asleep, albeit not for long. When I first awoke I just assumed that it was 3 am ish. Last night I was awake at this hour and I had the crack pot notion that maybe someone in a different time zone was thinking about me very hard (Ha!). I wished they wouldn’t do that while I am trying to sleep. I always think that there must be a reason I have fallen out of dream-state, and the latest and greatest conclusion probably comes directly from my current reading material. But it’s not 3, it’s 1:06 and here I am.

I returned to work to sad news. During break, my colleague’s 9 year old daughter was raped on the way to market by ‘a big man’. He is worried about the fact she has to be on prophalactic anti-retroviral medication and is unsure of their effect on her. I tried to be reassuring (about the drugs, not the event). I am glad that this horrible thing isn’t being treated like a big secret. There is guilt assumed in things no one talks about.

Kisumu’s the first district to do their teacher training. It starts Wednesday and I was impressed to return and see the preparation Silas and Caro had already done. Given they hadn’t yet received either the trainer or participant manuals I had worked on all month, they had reviewed and pulled together much information from the national workshop.

So 21 teachers will gather at YWCA in Kisumu and I will present less than a third of the material. More on all this later..

~

Someone I know would say that when I am not blogging, that means I am actually living. But is this true? I feel like I have barely written a word this last two weeks, but I am not sure that I have lived more fully than when I do blog. The sad thing is Lamu has evaporated from me. The extent of what I managed to capture is below:

May 6, 2007

I am back in Nairobi. Well Kassarani. My home away from home. Lamu was wonderful. I had an undescribably nice time, but attempt to portray it I will.

Lamu was as hot as a mother-fucker. Now in my family using the f-word is the equivalent of throwing down a gauntlet but the girls and I tried out some other ‘hot as..’ phrases and they just didn’t measure up. “Hot like a volcano” “Hot as hell” (exceedingly creative huh?) “Hot as a blazing inferno” “Hotter than a Kenyan man playing soccer in the noon sun” “Chilli spicy tuna hot” (I do like this one) “So hot the devil himself would need a cold beer” (from the book Sarah’s reading at the moment). But no. None of these really describe how hot we were. All the time. Anyway.. We were in a constant state of sweatiness. When searching for accommodation, I looked at my friend and the only area of her t-shirt not wet was her breasts. Two dry triangles. Attractive no?

The days and nights whizzed by, and that wonderful feeling that there was no where else I would rather be settled on me. This was a sensation that visited me a lot last summer (especially in the Masai Mara), and it’s a place from which laughter flows easily.

~

Well. That journal entry was discontinued due to a very good reason. Namely the idea of breakfast at the Java house in downtown Nairobi, and you see, Lamu gone, poof.

But I do want to add one thing. And maybe if I get into the swing, another.. On Friday we went out on a dhow. I can’t recall exactly where we went (maybe Manda beach and to the Takwa ruins) but although I hadn’t been too excited about the prospects of the day, I literally spent hours in the ocean, and the remainder of the time sitting on the boat with my legs trailing in the sea. It was heavenly. Dhows are basically crude wooden sailboats that come with a band of young and probably high males to drive the thing. Okay, that’s unfair, their mellowness and the aroma of weed may be completely unrelated.

After a blissful day, Tanya, Soetinah, myself and Moiz (Kenyan now residing in Florida) disembarked and considered our evening plans. I had two separate offers unrelated to the girls but seeing as it appeared all Friday nights in Lamu end up at the A.P. (which stands for what I wonder?) anyway, I decided that I would just see where the evening took me.

So it went something like this.. beers at our guest house, a bean and chapatti dinner on the water front, more beer at Petley’s, then onto the A.P. The A.P. is on the outskirts of Lamu on the edge of sand dune as best I can tell. There is a $1 cover charge and it appears that you are entering a building, but you aren’t really. It’s more like an old farm courtyard, or an internally verandahed (is that a word?) enclosure. So you are there in this outdoor/indoor space, with the full moon and stars above you completely trumping the effect of the tentatively suspended disco ball.

The ratio of men to women in this establishment is approximately 25:1. For a woman the key is to just pick a guy and dance with him. We had the advantage this night of being accompanied by Moiz, our favorite waiter, and his adorable friend Musini. Swahili men dance differently to Luor men. Both groups move like the ocean, but on the coast it’s a whole lot more lively than in Western, the waves are choppier. There's a lot more body surfing. ha. This was an extra-ordinarily fun time. Oh.. and I fit into a favorite skirt I haven’t worn since 2001 – hallelujah!

Thursday night was really nice too now that I consider it. Moiz, Tanya, Soetinah and I (Sarah was unwell during this time frame.. in fact everyone, save myself was sick at one point or the other from undiagnosed issues) went for pre-dinner drinks at Lamu House. This nearly became no-dinner drinks as we realized it was 10 pm and everywhere was closed. Moiz did a reconnaissance mission and came back the waiter and his cute friend from Hapa Hapa, who took our order and told us we needed to get to the restaurant in 20 minutes so they could close. In return, I convinced the bar tender at Lamu Palace to sell us beers to take away on the promise of my first born that I would return the bottles.

Dinner was unmemorable, but then afterwards Tanya, myself, waiter, friend and Moiz found ourselves on coconut beach trying to figure out riddles. And here I am back in high school. As I read this it seems like a big drinking night, but no, I think it included a total of 4 beers over 6 hours. Anyway I mention this beach because it is basically a man made area of white sand that was the result of some dredging between the island mainland and in the light of the full moon it was a positively bright place to be. As my highly spirited friend calls it “moon baking”.

On a less good note.. Unbeknownst to me, that night Moiz was also offered money if he would talk to me about sleeping with some old guy for $200. Despicable. I don’t know which I dislike more, the fact that he suggested it, or the fact that he made Moiz my pimp all of a sudden. And having fully recovered from the general disgust I can only add that it has been 8 ½ years since I was offered money for sex and at least I have apparently gone up in value.

~

Alright, to sleep. I have to go to the hospital tomorrow and see little ones. Thank you thank you for all your packages. The post office is like a laundry chute into my world. Of course, dirty garments would arrive faster than anything Kenyan post can deal with, but dumped into my lap came books and toys and toothbrushes and a beautiful new hat and I am so so very grateful. With much love. B xx

Many Months Ago:

“Vacation time and the relative lack of it available to Americans compared to others around the world, was an oft discussed topic of conversation in my life. A soap box I climbed up onto frequently, sometimes in conjunction with the happiness of people in general, sometimes when berating corporations for the way they have convinced us that a 40 hour work week is a minimum requirement and holidays only for the very slovenly. Something I hadn’t pondered however was that while I take an excess of days compared to most of my peers, the quantity of my travel sometimes overtook the general quality.

On the way to an airport recently I realized much to my shock that my passport was exactly two years old to the day and completely full. This, in turn made me reflect on the excessive amounts of travel I had pursued, my compulsion to constantly keep moving, and the further realization that I hadn’t enjoyed all that much of it. Actually.. though I have always known this.. I have barely recognized that my perfect holiday is one where I lay on the beach and occasionally surface from my novel to submerge my body in the ocean. I also rise from the towel at the thought of fresh seafood and a crisp glass of wine at a table by the water. Yet, in my relationship where we flew as often as some might buy groceries we rarely traveled like that.

Going beyond the passport back to days of dating and cohabiting.. though the trips were numerous, there were but perhaps five that contained these idyllic properties. In St. Lucia we complained of boredom but cherished the creativity that arises from such a lack of schedule. In New Zealand we were enchanted by scallops and candles on a picnic table in a three boat harbor. Puerto Rico, while only a weekend away was momentous in the conversation, drinks and utter bliss it provided. So why didn’t we do more of what we loved?

I write because I am struck by this. I formulate the sentences because I hope to put this into consideration as I arrange future travel. Maybe seeing all the things I think I should see isn’t the way forward. When really all I want is a little beach time with people I adore.

VSO has certain travel restrictions. You aren’t forbidden to travel to these areas or on these routes, they are mainly a firm recommendation. The punch line being the story of a volunteer who took that bus from Rwanda to Burundi, and was duely shot along with the rest of the passengers enroute. And this gets me to the question dad has been asking all along. What am I doing here? Why am I so far from everyone I love? And though I don’t feel compelled to have an answer to justify my choices, I do wonder.. maybe in the future, maybe when this adventure is over, will I still feel the need to globe trot, or will I be content to enjoy holidays just as I like them, where I might not see as much, but I know I will return refreshed and rejuvenated.

I have 6 weeks up my sleeve for 2007. And I am rethinking the way I want to spend the time. Initially I had a list of countries to conquer and sights to see, but the vacation I am looking forward to the most is Zanzibar Island. Maybe I am a need to exercise the inner beach bunny.”

May 1, 2007

I am in Lamu. Lamu* is an old Swahili island on the Kenyan coast just south of Sudan I think. There are no cars but one arse-load (I will allow ass-load) of donkeys. There are also perhaps two arse-loads of flies (per establishment). People come for the beach, the pace. The glorious thing about Lamu is there is absolutely nothing to do here. Nothing. Because we are off-off season, many more popular establishments are closed. Lamu is entirely Muslim, or so I believe and beers are not so easy to come by leaving our choices for entertainment as 1. read in bed, 2. read on beach. Hooray. I can’t actually remember the last time when I checked into one same hotel for five consecutive nights.

We are staying at Wildebeest guest house I think, and our apartment is more like a warren of up and down rooms which the breeze whispers through. Flowers and foliage wrap themselves around things to serve as screens. Privacy is dubious at best. Soetinah and I share a room on the roof, and Sarah and Tanya are in what might be best described as the attic. There really are no doors, but then there really are few walls. From my netted bed (and you know how I feel about this sacred place on the whole) I can see the ocean and the sky and three satellite dishes. Ha. We have been joined by the moon in its full glory, so that at night, it never gets quite dark. Delightfully, it is safe to walk around at any hour. Or so we’re told.

I am so glad to be back in Kenya. By last Saturday morning I was beginning to feel like I never left the States. I am however trying to recuperate from non-digestive related issues acquired in Chicago (that I should have taken care of properly in London) and the inability to sleep between the hours of 1 and 5 am. I am also covered in bites. From bed companions, mostly small and winged.. but strangely quiet (why do mosquitos not buzz here?).

So.. what am I reading? I finished David Mitchell’s “Black Swan Green” which I enjoyed more than his “Ghost Written.” It’s an interesting story, and I especially like his writing. I am now reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s “Eat, Pray, Love” (thank you Jamie) and enjoying it immensely. One of my best few hours in Chicago was spent in a book store with Bev, perusing the shelves for nothing in particular armed only with a friend’s wish list.. which took me in some new directions. I found Anna Gavalda’s latest novel… well most recently translated book and am so excited to get into Lionel Shriver’s new one too. Paulo Coehlo has another out and then there was some books I just had to buy for the picture on the cover (e.g. Julia’s Chocolates with the wedding dress hanging in the tree).

So. There has been more discussion about this whole blogging malarkey. But it can wait.. in fact this week everything can wait. B xx

*It occurs to me that rather than spout nonsense I could look at a guide book and find out something about where I am staying before writing my entries. I’m not going to do that.