Snorkelin

On Saturday, we went “snorkeling.” The only other time that I have been snorkeling (that I can remember) was in Mexico at Xel Ha. Snorkeling at Xel Ha was heaven because there were no waves and the water was crystal clear. I guess a very controlled environment hence a very controlled experience. Xel Ha is featured on the left.

The guy we decided to go with had already rent out his glass bottomed boat and our choices were a) a motor boat b) a mango tree. We voted for the motor boat and we waited for 30 minutes while they tried to find the motor.

The beach was beautiful that day. Tons of people were out at the resorts because it’s high season now. While we waited for the motor, we tried some madafu (not sure if that is the correct spelling). It is basically an unripe coconut that they cut the top off of and you drink coconut water. We had to pay the tourist price of 40 bob rather than the 10 bob you would pay in town but we decided the extra 30 was needed to complete our beach experience. I kind of wished I had just taken a picture with it rather than actually drinking it. Maybe I’m picky, but this stuff was gross. It makes me sick just thinking about it. It needed some sugar and maybe some flavor besides wood. But, Andrew convinced me that it was super nutritious so I guzzled the whole thing. This was a bad idea. Madafu basically looked like this, but a lot less ripe. Sorry Cliff, I know I didn't ask for your permission to post you on the web. You can beat me up when you come home.
The guy comes back; they can’t find the guy that owns the motor? So we take the mango tree. The boat is as skinny as a kayak but really deep. Apparently they import all their boats from Tanzania for about ksh75,000 or a little over a 1,000 bucks. The 4 of us waded out there to join our 3 captains. 7 people in that boat was a little ridiculous but to my surprise, we never actually tipped over. We had paid 15 bucks for this snorkeling excursion which included our fees into the park (the government has claimed any snorkeling anywhere in the ocean as entering the park). We didn’t really know where that was though. After going through amazing turquoise blue water, we got to not so turquoise blue water, threw out the anchor and well that was our time to shine. The trip out there made both Blair and I a little seasick. The tide was coming in and the waves were getting bigger and bigger. Andrew and Sam taught me to spit into my snorkeling goggles so that they didn’t fog up and we jumped in, fins and all.

It was weird because when I got into the ocean that was when I got more sea sick. You are looking down for anything that moves but you keep getting really close to the ocean floor and then really far away then really close then really far away. Andrew and I tried our best to stick together although I slowed him down because my snorkel kept allowing me to drink cups and cups of salt water.

By the end, we were exhausted. The madafu, the seawater, and the waves were not my favorite combo. But, really you just have to remember Safari Kenya. Nothing ever turns out the way you expect it to. We saw some really cool schools of fish, star fish, and some sea anemones. In the distance, you could see a ship that had ran into the reef. I think it was a cargo ship from Singapore? That would have been cool to see, but they told us no. Rarely has that word been spoken to us when we’ve asked to do something.

More Church-inspired chitchat

I apologize for my obsession with talking about church experiences. I can’t help it. Sunday is my favorite day of the week by a long shot.

I’ve been happily engaged in teaching piano lessons, more coaching than anything, for a month or so. Joseph and Joseph make each lesson more entertaining than the last. This morning, Joseph Muteti and I prepared for him to play the simplified version of Choose the Right in Priesthood. After his lesson, I had an hour to play hymns or rather attempt to play while all the little kids pounded on either side of the piano.

This is when I first interacted with the MVP of the day. He came up, telling me the names of the notes and then insisting that I teach him how rhythm works. I counted out loud one of the songs I was playing and after I finished he stood there for an awkward minute or two and then sat down. I gave a talk today in church about pioneers. After Sacrament meeting, he said that I had talked about things he had never heard of before. Then he told me to give him my email address. I was going to rip off a piece of my talk but I didn’t need to because well he decided to keep my talk and he would email me with questions about the place I come from.

After church, I ran into this fella again. This time he told me to give him my scriptures. (after telling Sam about this, he said that this old bugger has been telling him to give him his scriptures too) I laughed and said uh no. I was told that I could just buy new ones when I got home. My mom would be so proud of me for giving up my scriptures to some old Kenyan guy. Maybe this is selfish, but there was no way in the world that motivated me to give him my scriptures. I just laughed and ditched the situation (which I’ve proven quite effective in a lot of predicaments). Our last interaction was captured in this picture. Andrew and I really enjoy our friend Steve and thought hey lets get a photo with him. Luckily, Brother MVP decided he was going to be a part of it too. Andrew looked the way I felt.

Sorry, so back to Joseph’s Choose the Right performance. It turned out that it was a combined lesson and Joseph flipped out because well he was basically playing for the entire congregation minus 20 or so people. I volunteered to lead and announced that we had to take it real slow and begged that they were as patient with him as they had been with me. I think Joseph did a real swell job. There were many times that we sang acapella while he found his place, but I think he is going to take over once I’m gone which is such great news. And out of the corner of my eye, I could see good ole MVP tapping out the counting with ridiculously exaggerated movements.

I realize that I’m writing a novel about church, but our YSA Sunday School class was hilarious today. The lesson was on the Lord’s Law of Health. Of course, we got into a discussion about which drinks are bad and good. All the members were saying that Coke is bad. We don’t drink Coke. Fanta is good. Andrew tried to explain that avoiding caffeine is not in church doctrine. It is a personal choice. He also stated that chocolate has caffeine in it and we all eat that. The guy next to me raised his hand and when our teacher called on him he thanked her ever so much for calling on him. This is a quick indication that he was going to say something entertaining and he did. He basically said that he eats chocolate and where he comes from his friends call him Chocolate and what is he supposed to do about that? I agree, what is he supposed to do about that? We all assured him that he could continue to eat chocolate and go by that nickname if he wanted to. One of the Josephs also had nice things to say. He raised his hand to say that before he joined the church and he was writing the lyrics for one of his group’s songs, he drank a cup of tea and felt so much better. Cheryl, the matter-of-fact teacher, basically said well that’s nice and moved on. I also enjoyed watching the guy next to me, “Chocolate,” mark each verse over and over again with alternating red and green.

We decided we might as well take a bunch of pictures with the branch and this is them, in all their glory.

Harry Potter and lots of Sweets

I just couldn’t resist telling everyone that I saw the new Harry Potter movie tonight. I’m nervous to say that I loved it because I’m not sure if word has it that everyone loves it or hates it. But, to possibly stand alone, I loved it.

This is basically how it went. We all went to the movie theater and before the show Andrew and I bought a giant bucket of popcorn for 2 bucks. I could barely wrap my arms around this monster. The lady gave us half caramel/ half regular or half SWEET and half SALTY as Andrew explained with exaggerated gestures.

Movies generally begin with the same previews every time. I’m getting stoked for Fantastic Four and the movie where the guy’s wife gets pregnant and they have to move to a house in the woods. Every time I see the preview I get more and more excited. So, we watch previews for maybe 10 or 15 minutes then Mr. Bean shows us proper movie etiquette. In the no smoking segment, he attempts to smoke a cigarette, pipe, bigger pipe, and something that resembles a giant pepper grinder. Next, he gabs silently on his cell phone and the hand comes from the side and pulls it away from him. The last part of the segment shows Mr. Bean drinking a martini. As the hand keeps taking them away, the camera reveals that he has been making the martinis with this setup that looks like a child’s chemistry set. Finally, he accepts the fact that it is going to be a giant cup the size of his torso and a bucket of popcorn that looks exactly like the one we ate.

After Mr. Bean, we get commercials and not just a dash. I’d say about 15 minutes. Advertisements for paint, exchanging money, etc. Basically everything that should be advertised before a kid’s movie. I usually get pretty geared up during the previews and to have a block of Mr. Bean and poorly done advertisements kind of kills it all. The last advertisement we saw was for a cell phone company advertising one of their plans called Mambo 6. (Mambo is slang for Jambo and you pay 6 ksh per minute during off peak hours) The theme song they chose was of course good old Mambo #5 by that one guy. They even have a different Latino singing it. Another fabulous Kenyan replica with the same Mexican feel.

Harry Potter was going great. I had my jacket to my face (this one was a little bit scarier) and Harry had just kissed Cho (sorry if you haven’t seen it) and then we get this ghetto movie reel going across the screen. Intermission. And once again, commercials. The same ones. If I see that guy named Peter in a Durapaint uniform teaching me how to paint a wall one more time, I’m not sure who will die but someone will. Before I could kill anyone, Harry Potter came back on in 5 minutes and we made it to the end without another intermission.

If you are lucky (we weren’t lucky in this showing), you get to stand for the Kenyan national anthem. I’ve only done this once before (the other movie we went to I had to take my camera home because the guy thought I was a bootlegger) and it is a bit awkward because you want to put your hand on your heart but is that appropriate here? Probably not. I came home from the theater, ate a not-frozen, imitation otter pop, and a frozen homemade brownie. Thanks Mom!

Real Good Safari

Once again, I figured that you could read Andrew’s or Sam and Blair’s blogs to get the full trip from start to finish and well I thought I’d share a few highlights. When I think about writing the entire trip from start to finish, I kind of want to die so here are some favorites.

The drive to Nairobi. We listened to old gospel/ folk music that made me feel like I was in “Oh Brother, Where are thou?” and when we attempted to listen to the radio we heard Fergie’s ‘Glamorous’ and then a bunch of Kenyan women talking about relationships. Yuck. Our driver, Francis, got pulled over for passing a broken down Lorrie and the police officer said “come over here so I can charge you.” No, he didn’t get a fine but the particular phrase the officer used was, to say the least, interesting. For lunch, we ate at the Sikh temple in Makindu. Did you know that they feed anyone? What a great religion. We had to put on head coverings- Blair and I looked ridiculous and Sam and Andrew looked like pirates-and there were signs everywhere that said “DO NOT WASTE FOOD.” Luckily the food was spectacular. Great curry, rice, and chapatti and the cleanest/nicest bathrooms I have seen in all of Kenya. We just had to leave a donation at the door. Did I mention that it felt like we were driving through Southern Utah? I hadn’t seen a hill in 2 months and it was thrilling to see something that could possibly be called a mountain.

Seeing Stars in the Masai Mara. By far the best part of the Safari. We finished dinner and walked out from under the tent to see a beautiful star covered sky. I immediately tried to look for constellations and our guide jumped right in to help. Simon had received an astronomy book from some tourist that was from Miami and had read the whole thing. Here he was showing us the Southern Cross, Jupiter, Leo, the rift in the Milky Way, etc etc. We also saw the Big Dipper and where the North Star should be. L-o-v-e loved it.

The night I ate 5 plates of dessert. Enough said there.

My “Wendy’s Frosty.” Ashley taught me years ago to dip my fries in a Wendy’s Frosty. Our last night in Nairobi, we ate at Steers (a South African fast food chain restaurant) again and I got a chocolate milkshake and fries that were heavenly.

The Maasai in General. I loved to play spot the Maasai warrior on our road trip. It’s kind of like “Where’s Waldo?” but about fifty times easier. They wear bright red and everything else is green or brown. One of the guards I met at Olare Camp is named Boston. Quite a unique name for a Maasai right? He was born in a hospital in the Maasai Mara and there was a doctor there who was from Boston and told his mother to give him the name. I wonder how many Maasai people are running around with US city names. Safari Jackson offered us a day trip to see the Masaai village and we graciously declined because well that’s just a little too much tourist. We could’ve seen how the lived, their beds, buy things from them, etc but it was 15 bucks and most of the money would go to someone who didn’t need it anyways. Our route to Olare Camp was through a bunch of different Maasai villages (because our guide was a Maasai man) and our van almost killed 20 different herds of cattle and donkeys and a bunch of little children waving to us. I liked all the Maasai we encountered. They had an air of quiet dignity about them. Our guide was apparently the owner of the conservancy we traveled through. 150 acres of land. Wealthy Maasai Man.

Disneyland. Our game drives felt like being in Disneyland. We could see two distinct tire tracks through the grass and we were going so slow that it felt like those kiddie rides where they let you steer but in reality there is a metal beam in the middle that you can’t get away from. I swear Char and I went on a car ride like that when we were little. I was amazed that we never got lost. Sometimes we had a few options of different tire tracks and sometimes we just blazed our own trail. Well a lot of times. The opposite of Disneyland was when we came upon 3 or 4 vans that were attempting to get through a “gate.” These Kenya fellows had put a stick across the road and were charging people because they “filled in” the river so that vans could cross. By “filled in,” I mean branches not rocks. We got out with the other tourists and watched as van after van floored it across mud/branches. I would’ve preferred to walk but Safari Jackson hustled us all in the van and we floored it too. If we hadn’t made it, there was a big pile of rocks about 2 feet away and we could’ve helped the people that charged us fill it in properly.

Animals. Yes, we did see a lot of animals. I decidedly didn’t take a lot of pictures of the animals because I was more intrigued by the scenery than anything else. There is something about waking up at 6 AM, having a cup or two of hot chocolate, jumping into a safari van, and heading through miles and miles of brown grass. We were all bundled up and freezing but endured the wind to see the sun rise and just realize that we were in the middle of nowhere. I was completely satisfied to drive around and look at our surroundings in the morning and evening game drives. I did enjoy our time at the Masai River where our driver let us get out of the car (oops) and see the crocs and hippos from the cliff. The crocs were about 10-15 below us and when they slithered into the water I almost had a heart attack. I ran. The flamingos were definitely the most entertaining. I couldn’t get enough of seeing them fly. They would run, or stumble, across the water with these stick legs and once they took off they didn’t tuck them in. They stuck out right behind them. Andrew and I played the immature but super fun game of running next to the lake so that they would all start flying. I’m sure all the tourists shook their heads in shame when they saw us.

All in all, it was a great trip. The animals were unreal, the driver insane, and well we had lots of adventures which is what I had hoped for.

In Kenya News…

I have to pay tribute to the NTV news station, The Standard Newspaper, and the South African news show that provided quality entertainment for me over the past week.

My favorite thing about NTV news was their attempt at American news casting. Their news stories were full of phrases like “let the cat out of the basket,” “sands of time,” and “reinventing the wheel.” There were hardly any commercials between news stories but enough to make you excited for more. We heard all about how Kenyans were doing in the All-African games for about 30 seconds and then a 10 minute story about how there was a cat nursing dogs. Hmm.

The Standard Newspaper kept me sane on our drive home from Nairobi to Mombasa. It was about 7 hours and I had finished my book the day before. I attempted to reread the Odyssey but the introduction retold the story and analyzed the characters, so I figured there was no point. The Standard is a well-written newspaper but there is a section in the middle that is just for the Monday newspaper that was full of gossip, love advice, and weird weird stories. One of my favorites-retold in my words:

“This guy in Romania was arrested for murder and went to prison. He sued God because when he was baptized it was part of the covenant that God wouldn’t let bad things happen to him and God had let Satan tempt him. He was suing for all the time he wasted at church and candles he bought. He tried to get his money back for 2 years and finally gave up because God does not have an address.”

I don’t have any sources to confirm this story but it made me laugh.

The South African news show had 2 stories that caught my attention

1. Maybe I’m just in a bubble but did anyone know that Zimbabwe’s inflation is around 10,000%? And that their President just ordered all stores to slash their prices in half so that the population can afford it? Basically, the President is taking control of whatever he can and creating black markets left and right. This guy needs to be gone gone gone because all his people are headin for South Africa. And the World Food Programme is upping the amount of food being sent there. Feeding 4 million instead of 2 million. We should feed the hungry but isn’t it a bad sign when the President’s plan to help people out creates more hungry people?
2. This news story is probably more widespread. A bunch of Libyan nurses and a Palestinian doctor are in jail for infecting over 400 children with aids? Wow, I have a hard time believing they did it.
   
   

Now, of course, is the topic of the earthquakes that have been happening in Tanzania. We did feel them at breakfast in the Masai Mara and at our office in Mombasa. Just a little shake. David (marketing manager) was telling us about this fella who is a legit professor from a university who went all religious and got on national television about 3 months ago telling Nairobi that it was too late for them. God is sending an earthquake to kill everybody and even if they repent well it’s too late. This guy is probably feeling pretty good right now- prophesying things that are sort of happening. Too bad there is not much we can do about it.

In other news (as Andrew would say), I added lotsa pics.

http://byu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=8810&l=16cec&id=586037020

Safari Kenya or Safari Jackson?

Let me explain. ‘Safari Kenya’ is something you say after you hit a bump and everyone goes flying. The first time Jackson (our driver) said it we all laughed. It’s okay, safari Kenya. It’s all about the experience, safari Kenya. After 3 days, with Jackson I learned that a lot of our inconveniences and experiences were more Safari Jackson than Safari Kenya. A few examples in no particular order:

We hit a speed bump in the middle of a ghost town and the top of the safari van pops up. Safari Kenya.

That same speed bump or perhaps a swerve in traffic causes the front passenger seat to come unlatched. Safari Kenya.

Jackson asks ‘So where are we going? And for how many nights?’ Safari Jackson

In the hills of the Rift Valley, our car starts overheating and we have to pull over because Jackson failed to replace the radiator before our journey. Safari Jackson

Our Safari van rumbles through off-roading spots that should not be attempted by a vehicle with low clearance and we lose our skid plate in the process. Safari Kenya

We all have to go to the bathroom in the bushes and even the driver joins us. Safari Kenya

We high centered the van in the middle of the plains. Safari Kenya.

We all got out of the van and walked around looking for rocks and examined the situation in lion country with a Masaai Warrior. Safari Jackson.

Sam: Are those acacia trees poisonous?

Jackson: Yes, they kill you. You have to have a tetanus shot within 24 hours.

10 minutes later, we’re all standing up in the Safari van, headed towards a bunch of acacia trees and we all have to duck. Oops. Mind the acacia. Safari Jackson.

Our cook from the deluxe tented camp hitches a ride with us and so does the Masaai warrior. Safari Kenya

The cook gets out in an area “where people like to fight” to fill up a pile of glass bottles with water to cool off the radiator. Safari Kenya

The driver decides to add that water to the radiator (the radiator is under the driver/passenger bench) and pours the water in while I’m in the back seat. The water spews everywhere and I dive for the trunk. Safari Jackson.

My favorite moment was when we had been sitting in our broken down van for almost an hour, waiting for our rescue van that was supposed to take 15 minutes, Jackson was standing next to the hood of the car staring off into the sky, and he comes back to turn on the radio and says “Safari Kenya.” All I could manage was “I don’t think you can really use that phrase anymore.”

Safari Jackson didn’t turn out so bad in the end. He was an interesting chap but pretty funny at moments. We gave him quite a talking to for telling us to call him and then turning off his phone or giving us explanations that made absolutely no sense. Maybe our explanations made no sense to him either. Oh well. Safari Kenya.

We'll be on Safari

So for the next 4-5 days, we will “be on safari.” Not on a safari, but on safari. A safari classifies a journey; safari alone means a trip to Nairobi, Masai Mara, Nakuru, etc. etc. And that’s what our safari will encompass as long as the car we are taking makes it there.

You can’t avoid picking up their way of saying things here. We don’t say that we go to a university in the states, we go to university. And people haven’t really heard of internships here. We are on ‘attachment.’ I thought that when we came here ‘Jambo’ meant Hello, which it does, but it also can be assumed as ‘What’s up?’ So you say Jambo, they say Mzuri (Fine). The first couple of weeks here it frustrated me that people would say ‘fine, fine thank you’ to ‘Hello.’ It felt like they assumed what you were going to say, before you said it, and instead of waiting for you to say ‘How are You?’ they beat you to it. And for that matter, when people say Fine back home I always think they are not really fine but a little bugged about you asking them that question. Here ‘Fine’ must be the standard answer everyone is taught in school.

I guess that was a lot more than I needed to say to say that we’ll be on safari.

While we’re gone please continue to read Andrew’s blog as much as you humanly possibly can handle it. Tell your friends to just open it. It makes his day a little brighter to see his page views go up on Google Analytics.

Dedicated to G-ma and G-pa J

Our RS lesson on Sunday was about creating a home garden and its importance. I’ve decided that Karen actually follows the manual when she knows nothing about the subject and/or doesn’t do it herself. She had a lot to say about nutrition for mother and baby but this subject, well she didn’t firmly believe in it. But that didn’t stop her normal “tirade.”

She thought the manual was particularly funny because of the pictures. She kept running from the front to laugh with us about the pictures. Like the one with the lady using a shovel. I guess they don’t have those here and they don’t wear shoes in their garden for that matter. They use pick axes? That’s what I understood.

My favorite portion of the lesson was when she remembered a story involving back problems, her friend, gardening, and rocks. Her friend did not know the proper way to lift something in the garden (which Karen demonstrated for us, in her dress) and because of this, she has back problems. And what did the doctor do? He hung rocks from her neck to straighten her out.

So Grandma and Grandpa and anyone else for that matter, if you don’t use good lifting techniques in your garden, we may have to hang some rocks from your neck.

Grace gits to the Hospital

I am writing this blog after returning from the hospital, but I won’t be posting it until I break the news to the parents. A title including ‘Grace’ and ‘hospital’ would cause a heart attack. I also figure this will give me time to see if the medicine works and if the doctor was right, or if I need to go back.

So, I’ve kind of felt like an old woman for the past few days. It took me about 20 minutes to walk a few blocks and I was exhausted by the time I got home. Yesterday, I played hooky from work and watched the only movies that work on my computer – Hitch and Count of Monte Cristo- and took turns laying on the couch and my bed.

Well this morning, we decided that maybe I have appendicitis. So, to the hospital we went. We called a taxi at Nyali Cinemax and the taxi driver, after putting us in his car, remembered he forgot his license at home. Not wanting to make the situation seem urgent to encourage him to charge us more money, we went along for the ride, seeing all those “Swahili houses.” He happily took us the hospital- well almost to the pharmacy- but then to the right place. Aga Khan Hospital.

I’ll admit it; I had a little bit of an emotional breakdown. The idea of surgery in a third world country seemed daunting, but when we arrived at the hospital it was no big deal.

The clerk had a real hard time understanding my address in the US and basically any other thing I told her about myself. After they filled out my paperwork, I moved to the next waiting area (yes the never ending number of waiting rooms are in Africa too) and then I was called in for the “consultation”, I thought. (consultation fee was about 5 dollars.) This guy took my temp, blood pressure, and weight. I thought he was my doc so I told him all my symptoms. All he said was “sorry, sorry, sorry.” I guess he was just the intermediate step and I made him suffer by telling him my life story. It was nice to see on that scale that I had lost about 13 pounds in the last week-which is impossible. I told my doctor that and she matter-of-factly said well maybe it’s not accurate. So we now know that they weigh you just for kicks.

In my consultation, she decided that I had some sort of stomach infection, which makes sense. I’ll give her that. I did some tests and lots of waiting. Blair, Sam, and Andrew were there for moral support and for the experience. (I’m glad I supplied some entertainment for a Saturday.)

So I paid about 20 bucks for my lab fees and 8 for my prescriptions and we were on our way. (which makes for a total of around 33 bucks…wow.)

The hospital was much nicer than expected. It is a private hospital in a nice area but still had some “Kenya” to it. For example, the bathrooms had no sinks. I had to bug the janitor to use his. All in all, it was a fun 4 hour experience.

Independence Day

While I would’ve loved to see those fireworks and celebrate our country’s independence, this is why a Kenyan celebration was equally rewarding.

1. Ate 50 cent gelato and a Fayaz icepop while Andrew looked through bootlegged movies. We even found the Chuck Norris collection and I was reminded of the joke “When Chuck Norris jumps into the water, he doesn’t get wet, the water gets Chuck Norrised.” I apologize that I think that is so funny every time I hear it. (ps if anyone is dying for a movie, let me know and I’ll look).

2. Entered the Second Supermarket which is the Kenyan DI. But, of course, the clothes are leftovers from the US and Europe. We found a never-ending amount of bags full of t-shirts for marathons, company picnics, etc etc. In the process, I bought American Apparel t-shirts for a buck fifty a piece. What a steal.

3. Explained to David and James why we have Independence Day, and I think I explained it wrong. Oops.

4. Ate a chicken burger that was out of this world. Cucumber on chicken burgers is such a great idea.

5. Fell asleep at 8:30 because I was so exhausted from all the fun and possibly dehydrated too.

So while we didn’t participate in an American Independence Day, Happy Holidays from us kids in Kenya.

Lamu's List

Disclaimer: Sorry that my blog doesn't look as great as Blair and Sam's and Andrew's. I don't really love fiddling with it so you kind of get it as it comes. Which includes all the random fonts, sizes, and picture placement. And grammatical errors. Thanks.

1. The Bus Ride: On the way there, a little muslim girl read The Elusive Quest for Growth over my shoulder and on the way back, a Somalian fella (at least Andrew thought he was) read Mark Twain’s Roughin’ It with me. A lot of the bus ride involved my stomach jumping into my head so it was kind of hard to read. Andrew and I purchased some mystery “candy” from the ladies outside the bus. First reaction, “mmm wow, love that mixture of beef jerky and sugar.” It is interesting that an express bus also = a matatu. I’m surprised their airplanes weren’t the same way. I guess they realize that you already paid your money and no matter how long it takes to get there they should max out the number of people inside.
2. Milkshakes: I wish I could describe to you how amazing they were. It was sugar, ice, milk, and whatever fruit you wanted. Chocolate Banana was out of this world. I seriously could’ve lived on those and nothing else. Pineapple and Passion were pretty great too.
3. The Bahari Hotel: More ghetto than our apartment by a long shot. Our apartment is a luxury compared to it. But, for ksh450 a night, what do you expect. (about 6 bucks) The place was run by a guy named Michelle (pronounced like the Gilmore Girls character- Me-shell) and a bunch of random guys that seemed to be there only to cook breakfast. The rooftop view was easily the best part. At night and in the morning, the mosquitoes ate you alive, but we hosed ourselves down with bug spray after the first night of a million bug bites and we were just fine after that. My favorite was the shower. The shower was right next to the toilet and when I turned it on, I basically soaked the entire bathroom. No hot water, and it smelled like ocean. Hmm. Oh, and BTW Michelle told me at least 10 times (once every night, once every morning) to tell all of my friends to come stay here. So if you go to Lamu and you want a good breakfast and not much of anything else, stay here and tell Michelle I sent you.
4. Dhow Ride: I think I love sailing. This was so entertaining. Ali (the captain) and Ali (someone on the island’s son) basically sat on the back of the boat while this other guy ran back and forth to fix the sail to adjust to wind changes. It was so relaxing to sit on the boat while we were going through all the mangrove trees. Fishing was a treat too. I tried so hard to catch something but those devilish little fish kept eating my worm. No I didn’t put the worm on the hook, that was Ali #2’s job.
5. Jambo Bwana in a 14^th (maybe 15^th?) century house: Our dinner at Ali’s (yes, Ali #3) house was an interesting experience. For about 7 bucks, we were fed some fish, rice, crab sandwiches (called Ali’s yummy something something..i don’t know. I wish I remembered the ingredients) that were to die for (I wish I had 5 of these), tamarind juice, and a swahili cake (donut. the size of my pinkie.) We also experienced his skills on an electronic keyboard while his family and neighbors banged on drums and sang. This was probably the highlight of the Lamu adventure. Here we are sitting in this super old house listening to them sing Reggae, Jambo Bwana (the ultimate tourist song-they play it on speakers at Fort Jesus too), and some other goodies. I took lots of video, don’t worry.

The Lamu feeling: After we had been on the island for about an hour, I saw a bunch of old men next to the mosque playing dominoes. (Yes actually playing dominoes, not just setting them up to knock them all down) They tried to teach me, but they didn’t really speak any English at all. So through non-verbal communication, I kind of learned and played a couple rounds. I loved the way they would smack down the tiles; it seemed like style was more important than actually winning. The old men at Lamu were great. Basically everyone just hung out on the benches in front of the water. It is mainly a tourism based economy here so they are happy to let you experience their culture. Loved it. Shella was pretty too- although a little more high maintenance

A Kenyan Opinion. Sort of.

The following is maybe more therapeutic than informative. Basically all I know is based on a month and a half stay in Kenya, a few economics based books, and a bunch of hearsay.

“So what is the solution to poverty?” kind of makes me feel sick to my stomach. Sometimes I just want to say “to do nothing.”

I guess that’s kind of how I feel. It is hard to change what has been done; we all have good intentions (hopefully.) But, because of what has been done, we have very limited options for the future. We can’t change the fact that the World Bank and other organizations have been dumping money into Kenya in hopes that they are using it to benefit the poorest and accomplish the goals that “they have set.” We can only move forward by changing our perceptions and measurements of development work.

A huge part of the problem, for both the donor organizations and the company that we currently work for, is that they feel they have fulfilled an obligation or duty by pumping money into the country or, in our case, starting a business that can be replicated. They have completely present-minded points of view. There has been no background research before and there are no measurements to gage whether the country (or company) is truly moving towards any set goal. Lack of training and an adequate system seem to ruin any chance at success.

In the book I am currently reading, The Elusive Quest for Growth, William Easterly often looks into the past to show correlation between certain variables and to prove the success and failure of different development theories. I truly think that this is where we fail. Everyone has an epiphany of how they can change the world and fight poverty (as if it were something to be fought with) but they don’t take the time to look at other factors and analyze how their miracle idea will provide continual, economic improvement.

For example, in that same book, there is a chapter called ‘Educated for What?’ Kenya prides itself in making primary education free for the public (so I’ve heard) but does that motivate people to go to school? I was told by one of the other interns that 95% of the Mombasa Polytechnic students cannot get a job after graduating. For those who say that education is all we need, well here it has failed. I feel blessed for all the schooling I’ve had and I think everyone should have those opportunities, but if I was a high-school aged kid, with good English, contemplating whether or not to attend college I would probably drop out. At that age, I could be working as a waiter at a restaurant and probably earn just as much as I would after graduating from college and having to get the same exact job. I personally don’t think education alone is the answer.

Availability of education has increased but I can’t testify about the quality. While we were in Lamu, Andrew and I met a few military/government looking men on top of a 15^th century fort. We asked them what they were doing, they said building schools. We asked them who for, they wouldn’t tell us. But said our tax dollars were paying for it, which made me feel good and bad at the same time. I don’t think availability of schools is the problem. In my opinion, it is the lack of incentives to attend school. Attend school and eventually get a job or leave school now and get the same job?

Education is definitely needed but doesn’t seem to be hard to come by. Coast Coconut Farms (CCF) could do wonders with more training and perhaps a different mindset. At this point, the mindset is as follows: we run operations by the seat of our pants, try to follow our budget, and then ask the donors for more money. It is a humiliating cycle that has been created. In this case, I’m not sure if the blame should be placed more heavily on lack of education or lack of a set system.

After living here for a little while, you start to understand why the government is not revered and trusted like our government is (for the most part.) We’ve experienced first hand the lack of investment the government makes in its infrastructure. Our trip to and from Lamu was full of pot holes, puddles, and dirt roads. Sadly, this was the main road up the coast which is traveled by buses and matatus daily. I was told that it is 160 miles from Mombasa to Lamu. It took us 7 hours. While the roads in town and in Nyali (yes we live in the richest area) are constantly being redone, the road out to Ukunda (where the CCF factory is located) looks about the same as the road to Lamu. I’ve seen construction to fix the road but the repair work is not substantial enough to last more than a few weeks or a month.

We do blame the government for a lot of inefficiencies here. Like how our power goes out once or twice a week or four or five times a week during the rainy and windy season. The government pays out just enough to get by and pockets the rest? Sure seems like it sometimes. This is also shown in their nonexistent waste program. I’ve never seen so much trash and such a wide acceptance for it in my entire life. People will burn piles of garbage on the sidewalk or just throw whatever they are carrying in the streets because to find a trash can is literally impossible. Our hotel room in Lamu did not have a trash can; I almost had to eat my floss.

I think the situation is hopeless at times. I really do agree with a lot of this article that Andrew found and recommend that you read it.

It’s called:

(I’m sure if you “google” it, you’ll find it)

SPIEGEL INTERVIEW WITH AFRICAN ECONOMICS EXPERT

"For God's Sake, Please Stop the Aid!"

At this point in my excursion, I can’t push for any solution. Microcredit, Microfranchising, Education, Aids prevention, technological innovation, etc all sound like nice ideas but I’m not sure I’ll stand by any one of those at the end of the day.

In that article, the African economist says “There must be a change in mentality. We have to stop perceiving ourselves as beggars.” I’m not sure that I’ve reached a permanent conclusion that would advocate doing absolutely nothing, but I’m pretty close to it. We’ve got to stop looking at Africa and its inhabitants with sympathy and pity. The people of Lamu seemed happy and healthy without the presence of aid organizations and large amounts of donor money. They have an island thriving in the tourist and fishing industries and many of the homes are owned by foreigners who have invested their money in the Kenyan economy. And that’s what we need! People should not be giving money out of the kindness of their hearts but investing instead. I think the donors in the states have the right idea with Coast Coconut Farms. With a set system and a demand for coconut oil, this might just work.

As previously mentioned, I haven’t found a way to fight that poverty yet but those are my thoughts which will hopefully lead to some conclusion before I’m Kenyan no more.

Picksuresss

So, technical difficulties with the ghetto laptop and my "lack of technical skills" I added a lot of new pics but they turned up black and white? Kind of a mystery I know. But here are some, and I will add more later.

http://byu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=7596&l=597e6&id=586037020

Mister George

Bahari Hotel has a permanent resident who introduced himself to me as Mister George. Now, I met Mister George the first night, after we had dinner, around 9:30 in the front entry way and I continued to see him every night, at that time before we left.

He and his friend occupied the cushioned bench every night while he talked to new comers and downed a few bottles of gin and maybe more than a few bottles of whiskey. The night that I met him, I had one of those I’m standing and you’re sitting conversations that could have ended at any moment until he invited me to sit down.

Mister George proceeded to tell me all about him, his circumstances, and his outlook on life. He’s from some part of England, building a house in Lamu, and staying at Bahari for 10 more weeks until it is finished. He is a ceramist that told me that there are two types of people that come into his “shop.” Those that see something they love and say “how much is it?” and those that see something they love and say “I love this piece. Can I buy it?” I hate to say that I fall into the former and not the latter category. He also said that his job is amazing because he is “enriching the world and leaving it better than he found it.” I guess that is a big hurrah for artists-go Mom.

Along with Mister George, we finally experienced the world travelers. On our 7 am bus ride, we met Nol and Gwen from France. We had breakfast with them at our hotel and went on our Dhow adventure with them. On that same bus, were a couple of girls who had been all over Africa and weren’t stopping any time soon. One from Canada, one from Atlanta. There was also a fella from South Africa who claimed to have dated some girl from Sweden that is in Nairobi studying microfinance. And that’s why he’s here.

Our Dhow crew included Bonnie and Allan from Canada. They were ending their African adventure in Lamu, after working at a hospital, doing HIV work near Lake Victoria. I ventured to ask them if coconut oil could cure HIV. Apparently not, I guess we’ll have to ditch that marketing tactic. They were super fun to hang out with though. Both had a couple of degrees, now MDs to add to that list and refused to fish.

My favorite travelers were the ones I met the last morning. I had woken up and snuck onto the roof for an early morning read and I met a father and son from Holland. These two guys were here trying to teach the Muslims basic Christian beliefs. This is a big no no. You don’t teach Muslims. The LDS missionaries have to get permission from the Mission President because anyone that converts is either disowned or killed. These two guys had been attempted to teach the Omar tribe. I asked what church they were from and they didn’t really know. Just one that believed in Christian principles and was action oriented.

The last travelers we met were a wealthy, old couple from California that had sold their house in ’98 and gone all over the northern hemisphere and now they were hanging out in the southern. Yes, they were very interesting but it seemed like traveling wasn’t necessarily a novelty anymore. We noticed that with most of the people we met. As much as I used to think I wanted to be like them, I think a little Kenya here and a little something else there will suit me just fine.