What About Everything

Power of the Network....

2009-02-01T22:05:00.001-07:00

Had my first phone interview for grad schools two days ago. University of Washington in Seattle, for a Masters in Public Health. The program I am going for is PCMI - Peace Corps Masters International program, focusing on Global Health. 12 student program, taking in probably 5 (?) ish more students - 200+ applicants.

The first five minutes of my interview, the man on the phone said "I just wanted to say, I was the coordinator for outgoing exchange for AIESEC at University of Washington in 1980. Pretty awesome that you were in it."

Power of the network baby.

Learn to fly

2008-10-20T07:41:00.002-07:00

First National Presidents Meeting occurred this past weekend. They "legislated". =) Congrats, AIESEC US. I am so proud to have worked with most of you!

Callahan Ketterling wrote at 10:39pm
I wish that everyone that fought for so long for this and we scolded for doing so were there, I think that it would have made such an impact on all of you; it did on me and i didn't fight half as hard as y'all. You and Alex especially because you have transitioned out of the role and now cannot attend legislation. PS, the winter conference is going to be in St. Louis so....

Bye bye baby, baby good bye...

2008-08-31T22:04:00.002-07:00

Dropped my younger sister, Nadya, at the airport today. She will be studying in Firenze, Italia for the next school year and then traveling after. It was...rough. For those of you who don't know, she is and will always be my best friend and I really don't know what to do without her. I guess I should be glad that things all went crazy in Kenya and I ended up back here months early so I could hang out with her...but still. Who will hang out with me and watch hours of Scrubs/The Office? Who will laugh at all of my jokes!?

Things are good other than that...I am working as a pharmacy technician, which is actually pretty fun. Nothing as exciting as being Dr. Mzungu but still, its very interesting. I got this awesome little book about the 200 most common prescriptions and their uses/effects which is really really sweet - it beats my little notebook that I was scribbling notes in from my times in the KENWA pharmacy. I think I just like working with health in general. I just turned 22 a week and a half ago and it really got me thinking about what I want to do with my life...I guess you could say I am officially an adult. Ugh.

I am antsy to travel again...which honestly, is a good thing I think. I was afraid I would not be excited to travel after my last little crazy adventure, but I truly want to get out of here. I am going to roadtrip it for the weekend to Rapid City, SD to see Jeffrey so hopefully that will get some of it out of my system.

I am unearthed, and no longer scared

2008-07-23T19:15:00.002-07:00

I have returned from my adventure in the wilderness of Nebraska!! It was, in a word, AMAZING. Highlights include:

1. I killed a rattlesnake. It was in camp and we think someone had accidentally run over its tail end, so it couldn't slither away or rattle. Another girl at the camp almost stepped on it, and she is 8 months pregnant. In other words - it had to be put down. As a trophy I gutted it and kept it to skin. Terrifying? Yeah, but its really kind of awesome.
2. I led the backfilling of the archaeological site brigade. Each year the units are covered up to prevent erosion from occurring, and I happen to be a whiz with a shovel. My nickname at camp? The human backhoe. Ok, I really don't like that nickname I'll admit, but I totally got the job done.
3. A boy I met from last year, Jeff, and I found some new animal trackways. About 36 million years ago giant mammals roamed the area and left their imprints in the sandstone. These were preserved, and the area is famous for its animal trackways. So on a hike together, Jeff and I found two sets of new animal trackways from 36 million years ago that had never been found. We are going to be in 2 publications for a paleontological symposium in the spring!! Talk about boosting the CV....
4. Seeing Seancy. He came up to Keystone I'm sure just to see ME, and we had a good time. Especially this crazy guy we met outside a bar in Breck. The kid apparently had WAY too much to drink, and when we asked where a food place was, he responded "i don't speak english any more". It was hilarious.
5. ILANA!!! I had a LOVELY time with Miss Ilana Grace!! It was amazing. I also hung out with Pun'kin which is pretty awesome!!!!

I also went hiking almost everyday and just had a glorious time being outside. The campsite lost water at the end, which was a pain, but I dealt.

Speaking of water - the geologist/paleontologist at the site was telling me something that just made me SO angry. There is a uranium company that drills in the area. Old science has said that the uranium they are drilling for is safely tucked between two impermeable rock faces. Unfortunately, apparently the uranium has gotten loose, and made its way into a water supply. The water feeds directly into a nearby Sioux reservation. A nurse at a local hospital noticed a large number of Sioux people coming in with uranium poisoning. She took notes on this, and kept the data in her home. After a lawsuit was filed, her home mysteriously burned down with all of the data in it. The geologist/paleontologist at the site has been asked to testify, as he and his wife have the most up to date information on the rock formations there. His data proves that the uranium is indeed in the water supply, and it is a direct cause of the uranium drilling. As if this isn't terrible enough, it is essentially career suicide. The college he works with in Chadron said that if he testifies, he will pretty much be fired. The overall outlook of many (*not all) of the people in this area is that it doesn't matter, its just a bunch of natives that are getting hurt by the uranium.

Hearing this made me almost vomit. I couldn't believe it. I was so disgusted by the whole viewpoint and everything I had to go for a walk after talking to him. Are there still Americans that are HONESTLY that racist? They are people too, and I can't BELIEVE that whole situation. Haven't we done enough to the Native Americans??? If you do NOT agree with me on this point, don't post anything until you've read "Bury my Heart at Wounded Knee" by Dee Brown. Then we'll talk. The whole thing just made me realize that even if I NEVER return to Kenya or anything, there is enough that needs to be done right here in my own country that I'll be busy until the day that I die.

Anyways. Soap box is out of here.

On another revolutionary-type note...AIESEC US. Wow. I honestly don't know what to say about the whole thing (non-AIESECers - sorry). I am so unbelievably proud of my fellow AIESECers that risked everything to try to change something they believed in. I am on one hand jealous of the change agents they are and on the other hand, super happy I am no longer an LCP. Definitely some mixed emotions. No matter what, good job to all of you.

What now?

2008-06-20T21:11:00.002-07:00

Sooo after about 2 weeks hanging out with my parents (as AWESOME as its been) I am going to leave this upcoming week for...Nebraska!! Ok. Not as exciting as Kenya, but I am actually super psyched to go back to the 10,000 year old bison bone kill site of Hudson-Meng - located near Crawford, NE! It was the archaeological site I went to last summer, and I want to go back for like a month or so and just camp and dig and hike and have an awesome time. Sweet!

After that? Definitely moving BACK in with the parents...which is going to be all right. Need to get a job and make some money, plan to spend a couple months in Europe with Nadya (the sister) who will be moving to Florence at the end of August and with the way the dollar is going that will be EXPENSIVE. Also - I need to take the damn GRE. I was in such a rush to graduate early and get the hell out of college I opted not to take the GRE while my mind was still in school mode. Bad move. So, back to the books. Oh, standardized tests. Then? Applying to grad schools...for a masters in public health. In conjunction with Peace Corps (the program is called the Masters International program - combining Peace Corps with my graduate studies). We'll see how it goes. Plan to go to school from August of '09 - August of '10, and then 2 years in the field (hopefully somewhere back in East Africa) and then come back to defend my thesis.

On a side note, volunteering on this dig and then going back to grad school and then volunteering for ANOTHER 2 years is not really getting me any closer to getting a "real job". I keep telling my parents that I'm busy building my CV. They keep telling me they can't wait to see my 94-page resume. And then I counter with "Well, when I'm 47 and ready to get a REAL job, I will get an AWESOME one because of my sweet resume!" Its a little game we like to play.

What are the odds, that I have missed your smile

2008-06-18T21:39:00.003-07:00

I've been back in Colorado for about a week now, and it finally hit me that I am actually home from what I was referring to as "Dunia's Big Adventure" in my head. Shit.

After everything that happened, after all the bad stuff that occurred - I really really miss being in Kenya. I've been searching my brain, trying to figure out exactly why, what I miss so much. The food? Not a chance. The transportation? Ha. No. Work? Yeah, in a way I really do miss it. But most of all its the people. And I loved the people I worked with, they inspired me and challenged me and some of my clients even pissed me off. But mostly, I miss my fellow trainees. The people that knew what I was going through, that faced mostly the same challenges. When I vented my frustrations at them they wouldn't be like "oh yeah I understand..." but they would counter with their OWN stories. Stories that I could commiserate with, as well as stories that made me laugh (ESPECIALLY if they came from Florent).

I love all of my fellow interns in Kenya - the YES house plus Pascale. Even with all the bickering and the competitions over who could talk louder (you two know who you are). It was like being around family, I was completely comfortable and I don't know how to properly thank each and every one of you for being in my life. But I think without one individual in particular I wouldn't have been able to come out of the experience nearly as emotionally and physically healthy as I am right now. I don't do regrets, but if this person hadn't been there for me - sharing his mother, giving me his shoulder to cry on, taking complete care of me when I needed, even sharing his room - I don't think I would have been able to appreciate the great things that happened in Kenya. Because of him, I can take the bad with the good and look back on the experience in a positive light. And the relationship that was created out of all of that is one that I will never stop being...well...grateful for. I really don't know if I can put into words how much he means to me.

Sean - this ones for you.

And the wind's that blow remind me...

2008-05-30T04:50:00.003-07:00

...of what has been, and what can never be.

I am coming home. June 10th....almost 7 months early.

For those of you who know why, you were right and I should have come home immediately. For those that don't? Just understand that I wouldn't have ended this experience for anything that wasn't unbelievably serious.

But I still have 10 days...so let me tell you about Enoch. Enoch is a 13 year old who lives in Korogocho. He is the little kid who rapped for me my first day into the slums. Since then we have become fairly good friends. Yesterday I tramped around for a good half an hour looking for him through the informal settlement until I found his mother. She invited me into her home and we talked...and I remember why I came. His father was murdered, his mother makes almost no money selling beads in the slums, and he takes care of his 3 younger siblings - and the kid still always has a smile for me. He and his friend found me yesterday to sing for me. I visited another 4 or so bedridden clients that all had smiles for me, that all were going to talk about my visit for days after I left.

Thats why I came to Kenya in the first place.

On a side note - I am fairly upset at leaving at this crucial time in my medical career. The clinic has decided to train me to be the new doctor (this is soooo illegal) so now I get to wear a lab coat and diagnose people (the doctor is always sitting there in case I mess up but still). They call me Dr. Muzungu. Its awesome.

"How do you like Kenya so far?"

2008-05-12T22:47:00.002-07:00

I get this question constantly. That or:
"How do you find my country"
"What do you think of Kenya"
"Are you having a good time here"

Well people, here's your answer.

Step 1: I'm still alive. Important.

I've been cheated, mugged, robbed, harassed, cornered, ogled, stalked and almost kidnapped. I've had to fight for everything - from fair matatu fares to reasonable street food prices. I've been touched by men, women and children that I did not know merely because of my skin color. I've argued tirelessly, defending my culture and my way of life because of the ignorance I've encountered. I've ignored countless come ons, insults, careless comments, invasions of personal space and obviously rude treatment.

I came with such an optimism, truly believing that I could make a difference. And I have realized that the people here do not even care enough for one another to help. The vast majority of Kenyan's themselves are not doing anything. What, honestly, am I doing here?

And yet, I stay. I stay for the people I work with - the few who do not look at this as just a job, a meal ticket. Those to which I am bound with that same blinding optimism that we can do something and are doing something. I stay for the people who truly appreciate the tiny amount that I have been able to do. I stay, in part, to prove Seancy wrong - that a single person can change the world. Only a fraction, only a tiny bit - but its still impact. In a lot of ways, I stay out of sheer stubbornness (those that know me know this is true). I've seen some of the most beautiful things, and made friendships that I know are never going to end. I've met people that inspire me to be a better person.

And that, is the answer to your question.

Mama said there'd be days like this

2008-05-05T23:40:00.003-07:00

It's been quite the weekend. After a crrrrazy party Friday night at the YES house (thanks Shanky/Charlotte/Florent), I was on my way back into town when my camera got stolen out of my bag on a matatu. It blows, yeah. I liked that camera, I waited for years to finally get a digital camera, etc. but what i am MORE upset about is the fact that I lost all of those pictures. A lot of them were on my computer but a lot were not, and I can't get those back. Ever. A man stopped me and said "I think that man took something from you, I saw him". I talked to the mat conductor, asking where the man had gone. A crowd of like 20 men surrounded me, yelling what had happened, saying they should get him. Then they turned on the man who had warned me about it, yelling at him for not stopping the man. It was kind of scary. Either way, its gone. Sorry YES kids, all the pics from your first (and possibly only) party are lost. To top it off, he will sell it for 20 dollars, some idiot will buy it, use it, and after a week, will throw it away because the battery is one that you plug in. And I still have the plug.

After a rough night last night (check my facebook profile I guess), I woke up and took a shower. As I was getting out, the mother of the girl I am living with said she wished she could wash her hair and not have to get it blow dried. She then proceeded to say this: "I just don't understand why God favored you. He gave you the right hair, the right color, all the money...It's not fair!!" After I tried to reason with her, saying something like our hair is just different not better, she got angry and stomped off. Awesome.

The worst part about the past few days is the baby I wrote about in my last blog, the 6-month-old infant who weighed almost nothing, died on Saturday. The child that I held and fed and played with is no longer alive. Completely innocent...it just really depressed me when I heard this morning.

Cause life is short but sweet for certain

2008-04-21T04:42:00.005-07:00

Two Friday's ago I went to Murang'a, a small town located about an hour and a half outside of Nairobi. KENWA has a home there for children who have been orphaned due to HIV/AIDS. There are about 36 children which is an incredible small number considering how many exist and need help, but still. After a ridiculously round-a-bout start including backtracking at least 3 times just to get away from the Pangani clinic (Shanky knows this type of backtracking/circling/forgetting things and having to go back and leaving late...its a pain), we are on our way. We get about an hour outside of town and then head off in the opposite direction to pick up some children we are going to bring to the orphanage. So now there are 5 adults, 4 children, an infant, 6 mattresses and 10 blankets shoved into this van. It was...interesting.

We head out to the orphanage and realize we forgot a kid. So we turn back to pick him up.

About another hour or so later, we get to Murang'a. The drive was unbelievable...We were near Mt. Kenya and could just see it off in the distance. Getting out of the van was a process that involved a lot of crawling around the mattresses but we managed. The orphanage itself was incredible, there were children running around everywhere. Many are HIV+ but you really couldn't tell - they were just like the kids that I babysit at home. Screaming, singing, laughing. We got the newbies set up and tried to introduce them to the others but they were nervous (as expected). I then found the infant room. There were 4 babies, one which we had brought with us. The one we had brought, a baby boy, was HIV+ and had been abandoned by his mother. He was 6 months old and weighed about 10 pounds...his skin hung off of him in folds and his head was gigantic while his body was tiny -I could see all of his ribs, and his fore arm was about the size of my thumb. I didn't just stare at him, it wasn't like I was removed from the situation. I held him, fed him, made faces at him, everything. It almost physically made me sick at how small and malnourished he was, and I really wanted to just take him home (not sure how people would react to that type of "souvenier"). The baby he was sharing a bed with, another little boy, was 2 months old and weighed less than 6 pounds. One thing that gave me hope, however, was that there were children running around that had come to the orphanage in the same condition. It made me realize how much good was being done.

I also went to a new informal settlement, Kiambiu (not to be confused with Kiambu, which is where a park called Paradise Lost is, and is where Shanky, his landlord and I scampered around a waterfall). It was in this clinic in this slum that I did my own counselling. We visited 2 clients, a man and a woman. The man had just been diagnosed with TB and I told him the importance of hygiene/nutrition/walking/emotional health. The woman I talked to for almost an hour. After reminding her to take her pills and eat well, we just sat and chatted in her home (it was exactly like all the slum homes I have described before). Her optimism and excitement at still being alive after being diagnosed with TB 2 months ago was incredible. Her son also died around the time she was diagnosed in an accident, but she still had a smile on her face and teased me about finding a Kenyan man for me to marry. It humanized her in a way, and made me realize that even though I have given these HIV statistics names, faces, personalities I was still looking at them as just that: sick people. It was a refreshing day in the slums, and has helped me remain optimistic about my work since then.

In a side note - there is a saying here, a myth of sorts I guess that when it is sunny out and its raining at the same time, it means there is a hyena marriage somewhere. Kind of cool. I traded that story for a story about leprechauns and rainbows, which no one had ever heard before.

Living is easy with eyes closed

2008-04-16T03:25:00.003-07:00

misunderstanding all you see...

I hope people are noticing that almost all of the titles of my blog posts are song lyrics. Carbon Leaf, Matt Nathanson and now the Beatles are the reigning bands used.

It has been a quiet few days at work. I have been in the clinic all week due to some unrest. There is a group of people (a mob, essentially, organized crime) that are causing a lot of problems. Known as the mungiki, they like to chop people to pieces and yesterday set a market on fire as well as burned a bus that had two children in it. While I live in a relatively safe area, transportation has been weird (all matatu drives pay the mungiki) and quite a few of our employees live in the areas that are being badly effected. It is also way too dangerous to go out to the field, so here I am.

I feel like I misunderstood quite a bit about Kenya when I first arrived. While this is to be expected, its almost like I am learning things all over again. I think in a lot of ways this separates a traveler from someone who has come to a country to put down some kind of roots. I am used to the fast paced backpacking way of travel; 2 nights in a city max, constantly moving and seeing new things. It is weird to me to remind myself that yes, I do need down time, and its fine if I just want to go home, sit and play spider solitaire. I will never fit in; I am in no way mistaken for a Kenyan. But I'm relearning what I misunderstood and getting used to the way of life here (to an extent. some things will always be foreign)

My Kenyan family/the AIESECers I have been hanging out with gave me a Kenyan name: Wacera (pronounced wah-share-uh). It is a Kikuyu word meaning one that likes to travel. Pretty fitting.

I also went to my first Kenyan club this weekend. That was...interesting. Being the only real white person there, I was pretty much not left alone the whole night. The idea of personal space is often ignored, and luckily I made friends with the security guy at the front and he kept most people from touching me too much. The focus of their attention? Surprisingly, my hair. I was wearing it down and its gotten fairly long, and people just wanted to stroke it. I allow the kids in the slums to do this all the time (I end up very dirty but it makes them so happy) but I couldn't bring myself to allow a room full of older men to do it. Overall, I think I am happier sticking to a more quiet venue to socialize and drink, but at least I tried it.

I claim to be so righeous, but I'm just like everyone else

2008-04-10T05:39:00.004-07:00

I don't usually post this often, but today was especially rough. This post is for those that do not really truly understand what life is like outside of a first world country and especially for those that want to understand.

I knew I was headed to the slum Korogocho today; I had gone there two weeks ago and thought I knew what to expect. When I entered the clinic a young boy recognized me immediately, even though I had barely spoken to him and it had been a while since I had been there. While I know its not hard to recognize one out of the handful of white people that has visited the area, he even knew my name and called out to talk to me.

As I was standing with a few of the other interns there (all are native Kenyans), a woman walked up and wanted to talk to me. She wanted to take me to her home and introduce me to her family, and I obliged. Turns out she is a Maasai woman. I was welcomed into her house and met her husband and 3 year old son. The baby has a pelvic problem, and cannot walk; both the boy and the mother are HIV+. The husband was very excited to see me, and told me of their problems. The way he put it, although they had asked for help from several groups (they need blankets, they are all sleeping on the dirt ground), no one was able to help them "..and no one cares, except God. And he has come through you." They did not want anything, just someone to hear their story and care. The woman held my hand the entire way back to the clinic.

After that, we went to a home to take care of a woman who was bedridden. If you have never been into a house in the slum (and I'm assuming most people have not), I will do my best to describe it. Getting to a specific home is a task; there is dirty water flowing through make-shift ditches in all alleyways. You end up jumping from stone to stone to avoid trudging through the polluted sludge. Everytime I have come to the door I was headed too I have been graciously welcomed; people have pulled out stools for me to sit on and called "karibu karibu!" (welcome, welcome). They are one room shacks made out of metal house siding that is completely rusted. There is a 3 by 6 foot area that is usually for sitting, and then a sheet or a series of sheets hang up to hide a bed. The kitchen is shoved in the corner of the seating area. It is incredibly dark and stifling; I often have problems swallowing inside of the homes. Usually there is only the light that peeks through the cracks in the walls; a lightbulb hangs from the ceiling but is almost never on, especially during the day. There are piles of stuff all over; empty cans, tubs, bottles, papers, everything. This is where I met Rebecca (name has been changed).

Rebecca told me she was 44 and has two children, a boy and a girl. She used to get her ARV drugs (anti-retroviral therapy) from her daughter, but after the election violence, it was impossible to leave the home to get the drugs. When the violence ended, the doctors refused to put Rebecca back on the drugs, which means that a drug resistance has likely developed. Translation? It is essentially a waiting game now. Rebecca is completely bedridden, and just sits in a chair in the dark while her children go out during the day. When we arrived, we decided to change her. I held her in my arms, the entirety of her weight upon me, while she was stripped and washed. She is not able to move to go to the bathroom; that is mainly what was being washed. She was able to put her arms around me, her head leaned against my shoulder and I held her like a child. When the medication for the bedsores was being put on her backside I rubbed her back while she whimpered because of the pain. After we got her washed and changed, the other women left to empty the buckets while I sat with her. The only thing she really wanted to talk about? What flying in a plane was like; she had never actually seen one up close and was very excited when I told her about it. It was the most animated I had seen her the entire visit, so I was more than happy to discuss that.
When the other health workers came back and told her we were leaving, she immediately went back to being shy and not looking at any of us. We walked out, and she turned just to tell me I was doing good work. And we left her there, only a fraction better than the way we'd found her.

After speaking to a couple people about how emotional I get after these experiences, they usually have told me that I will get used to it. But to be honest, I think that it is impossible to get used to. To not feel empathy, pity, sorrow, anything for my fellow human beings that are living like that is unimaginable. Although it would definitely make my life easier, I don't think I would ever want to get used to it. Everytime I visit a person like this, or a woman in the clinic touches her heart and then mine, I feel like I can hardly contain the incredible amount of emotion that forms usually in my throat and chest. And to be honest? I think that this is exactly what gives me my humanity, and reminds me that I am no better or worse than any of the people I have been interacting with daily.

Whisper words of wisdom...

2008-04-09T00:00:00.006-07:00

After reading Sean's post, I decided to go ahead and confirm that yes, I was mugged by someone that he calls "Mr. Poopy". And yes, he did have change. Which was bizarre. I am really glad I had no idea what was going on.

The hike last weekend was pretty incredible; inside the crater looked like a complete other world. It was entirely separate from its surroundings; if you have ever read The Beach (or seen the movie with Leonardo DiCaprio) then that is how I imagine the paradise that the people go to, but without the ocean nearby. Finding a matatu to get home really sucked; some truckers offered to give us a ride if everyone sat in the back with the cement bags except for me. I would get the immense pleasure of sitting up front with the 5 men...no thank you.

Work is...amazing. I meet so many incredible people, people that have experienced the worst that life has to offer and are still able to joke with me. At the same time, its completely devastating. I saw a woman almost die in front of me two days ago...she was positive, and had hepatitis B. She was unable to walk, speak, open her eyes...anything. Another woman came into the clinic trying to give up her baby because she just couldn't handle it. I go home so emotionally drained that I really can't even describe how I feel. I heard from some of the USIU AIESECers that the previous KENWA interns began to drink heavily after work because of the emotion involved.

I guess I should describe a little bit about what I actually do. At the main office there is a clinic that sees HIV+ patients. I have become their newest pharmacist....which completely makes sense given my extensive background in pharmaceuticals (I have a degree in anthropology and psychology; I haven't taken a real science class in years). Turns out I love it, I love counting pills and figuring out dosages. It is also such a tangible thing that I am doing as opposed to counselling people; I know that I am giving them this many pills and that it will make them feel this much better.

About two to three times a week I go out to the field, which is going to informal settlements (read: slums) where we have clinics and work there. The main clinic I can usually enjoy myself, but going into the slums is unbelievable. Children are constantly playing in garbage, covered in dirt and often barefoot. Yesterday a group of men in Mathare (one of the largest informal settlements around Nairobi) asked me if it was true that AIDS was a black person disease. I was taken aback, but it was no worse than the question I have gotten more than once: Why did God stop in America?

...let it be.

i'd like to, change the world. its easier than changing me

2008-03-31T02:26:00.002-07:00

I played peek-a-boo with a 16 month old baby who was HIV+
I saw patients cards being pulled from the pile with RIP written on them
I witness a woman get tested for HIV - and came out positive. I saw the desperation and fear on her face, her hand at her throat like she was reminding herself to stay in the moment, that it wasn't a death warrant, that she still existed and was a worthwhile person.
I saw a man stumble drunkely into the clinic, trying to get tested but wasn't emotionally strong enough to do so sober. I spoke with him while he explained how scared he was, how he had lost a lot of weight recently. He wanted to be tested to eventually marry a muzungu like myself.
Poured pills and pills out to HIV+ people that before now, were just statistics to me. But I talked to them, held their hands, and watched them smile and say thank you.
I went to the slums, talked to women who were dying. Women who weren't strong enough to get out of bed, women who's lives had just turned into a waiting game. One confessed that she was alone always, just waiting, and how much she appreciated me coming to see her. Her left side was paralyzed from a stroke due to complications from treatment. I sat in her one room "house", watched while she tried to clear a spot for me to sit down. Always welcoming no matter how little there was.

And what did I say? Nothing. Because there was nothing I could do. Saying sorry isn't enough. I will never be in those shoes, and no one I know at home will be. I've been told that just me being there, just showing them that someone cares, especially a white person, is doing something. Talking to them is doing something. The gratitude on their faces just makes me feel worse and more helpless. I came here wanting to change the world one person at a time. But can I even help the first few?

The question is how do I go back to my old life, to Starbucks and Gilmore Girls? But almost more importantly, how do I stay here and continue to stand by watching while this goes on, unable to do anything?

Live a life less ordinary

2008-03-25T03:57:00.002-07:00

So...Kenya. First off, let me apologize for the whole blogging thing or lack thereof. Kind of suck at this.

Thoughts? Its unbelievably overwhelming. There are these matatu things which are essentially death on wheels. I hate getting on them and they are definitely not made for anyone over 5 feet.

I have already been to a get together, walked all over Nairobi alone, went to a house and was told I now had 4 grandmothers and 9 aunties, sang and danced with said aunties, and hiked the Ngong hills. Amazing. I am super excited to start working, which better begin tomorrow. I really do not even know how to describe anything, there is just way too much going on. I am enjoying myself for sure, but I am still confused on exactly why I am here. I was reading Paul Theroux's Dark Star Safari and he said that travel is the way he chooses to spend his time, not as leisure or work or sightseeing, but a way to pass the time. It made me think about what I was choosing to notice and take note of in my journal. My plane ticket from British Airways had me classed as "world traveller". That really made me think about the tiny percentage of people that I will be able to talk about my experiences with and have them truly understand what I am saying.

Sorry this is so disjointed.
I am taking very good care of Shanky by the way (or the other way around...)

Nadya - I miss you monk. e mail me, i have no idea what your e mail address is!!
Ryan - I better see you in August.
Mom and Dad - I love you guys!! Are you sure you don't want to take your vacation here?
AIESEC Colorado - you guys better be representing this semester because i'm not there to kick your butts.

And away I go....

2008-03-16T20:15:00.002-07:00

Here I am, 15 hours before I depart on the most intense journey of my life to date. Nervous? Check. Excited? Check. Most of all I am anxious to get over, anxious to begin. I have little to no idea what to expect. For all the reading up on it, talking to people who have been or are over there, I really am unsure. We'll see I guess.

Take care of yourselves, and I'll see everyone in January!!!

This is a lot of flying....

2008-03-11T15:43:00.002-07:00

T-minus 6 days!!!!

Flight number: BA5072
From: Denver
To: O'Hare (Chicago)
Depart: 17 Mar 2008 12:45
Arrive: 17 Mar 2008 16:05

Flight number: BA0296
From: O'Hare (Chicago) Terminal 5
To: Heathrow (London)
Depart: 17 Mar 2008 18:25
Arrive: 18 Mar 2008 07:20

Flight number: BA0065
From: Heathrow (London) Terminal 4
To: Nairobi
Depart: 18 Mar 2008 10:05
Arrive: 18 Mar 2008 21:30

I'm making this up as I go along....

2008-02-25T12:37:00.000-07:00

Never having been a blogger, I will do my best to keep up with this so everyone interested knows of my hopefully numerous adventures over the course of the next several months.

I leave for Nairobi, Kenya on March 17th, 2008 for an AIESEC traineeship. I will be working with the ASK program over there as well as with a group called KENWA, which is a network for Kenyan Women with AIDS. I will be working in more impoverished areas of Nairobi, KENWA is located in the slums, which makes me slightly nervous but of course increases the traineeships appeal.

I always knew I wanted to go to an African country, and while getting my degree in anthropology I most heavily studied the countries of Eastern Africa. This will not be my first venture abroad; I have backpacked through Western Europe on two separate occasions (each for 5 weeks) and while there is nothing more exciting than putting all of your belongings in a 50-lb backpack and heading out without any real concrete plan, I think I always wanted to go somewhere less conventional. While I have been convinced that going to Africa would be the ideal situation, my parents, friends, most of my family members and strangers that I meet on the street keep trying to talk me out of it and warn me of the impending danger and (most likely) doom. Especially when I focused getting my traineeship in one of two countries - Uganda or Kenya.

While I was looking at traineeships with AIESEC my efforts were focused mainly on Uganda. To Westerners who get most information from the news, Uganda brings up images of Idi Amin, the Lords Resistance Army, and the statistic that has come up in more than one study that there are 2+ machine weapons for each person in Uganda (most of these came from the arsenals being raided after the fall of Idi Amin). Not exactly going to a resort area. During my search, I also was intrigued by several DT's (developmental traineeships for the non-@ers) in Kenya. Making money never interested me that much or I wouldn't have picked anthropology as a major. Working with non-profits was my focus, and if I did not go on a traineeship I was going to apply for the peace corp. It just so happened that KENWA and the ASK program fit the bill perfectly.

I can't begin to describe the differing emotions that I have going to Nairobi in 3 weeks. I'm sure everyone can imagine that they are all kind of jumbly and not really making any sense. My parents have resigned themselves to the fact that I already have gotten the majority of my shots (I still have 2 left in the rabies series) and bought my plane ticket, so I'm honestly going. They keep offering tidbits of advice but I think it's finally sunk in that their eldest is off into the world. I hope they realize what a good job they did raising me and that they couldn't have done anything else to prepare me for this. I also hope that they realize that they could not have stopped me, and in the unlikely event that anything happens (Shanky, I'll address YOU in a moment) that it is in no way their fault.

The possibility of something happening was not my primary concern since I sent in my acceptance note a couple weeks ago - it was actually the plane ride over. A giant hunk of metal soaring through the air like a bird? Not my idea of a good time. But the recent incident that Shanky experienced made me consciously realize that I am going into a potentially dangerous situation. I can't begin to understand what he experienced or will experience in the future in relation to the mugging, but I hope that I can take it and learn from it what I can. And I think that everyone connected to him in any way has learned something, whether it be to heed warnings that you get (especially from those native to an area...they know best) or that this type of violence is exactly the reason that I feel the need to go over there and try to make a difference for the better. Violence that is endemic in a culture is something that does not have to be accepted as fact, but can be changed. Never by one person of course, but by several that are willing to try. I'm not sure what you learned from it, but I hope something.

Overall, I am excited to start my journey and kwaheri ya kuonana! (goodbye until we meet again)