I was very happy to see a recent blog post on the MamaMike’s site with these great photos from a trip that the team took to deliver donations that had come through! Check it out!

Also, there are more photos on the MamaMikes Facebook Group.

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MamaMikes Blog » Blog Archive » This Christmas with Mama Fatuma children’s home.

The overall presentation, to my surprise, was much more honest than I expected from members of the diplomatic community. Former US Ambassador to Kenya Prudence Bushnell, who was actually ambassador during the bombing on the Embassy in Nairobi in 1998, introduced Ambassador Ogego with a short speech strongly condemning the current violence, but making a point to acknowledge the resilience of the Kenyan people in helping one another and the idea that it is not in the Kenyan nature to engage in these acts (they are isolated regionally, and in some cases very likely being paid by some entity). KJ would have probably fallen out of her seat with joy! Ambassador Bushnell also praised the work of what she called the “techno-activists” playing such a large role in relief work — those techo-activists clearly including Segeni and the entire MamaMikes team who has partnered with many Kenyan bloggers to coordinate and assist aid/relief efforts. (I encourage you to visit the MamaMikes website and click on “Social Outreach” where not only now can you donate to the children of the MamaFatuma children’s home — but you can also send aid to those in the Red Cross IDP Camps!)

Well, of course some of the questions fielded from the audience included those of “How are the animals coping with the post-election violence?”…Seriously! That made my night! I asked Ambassador Ogego why Raila was pushing this same battle for power that he’s been fighting for relentlessly since the elections in 2002 during this time when in 5 years it seems he is inevitably going to be the President. I also tacked on at the end of my question whether or not the unity government would address the issue of majimboism. Well, the ambassador is a friend of Raila, but surprisingly agreed that the issue should have been taken-up in the courts and that while 5 years is a short time, it’s a long time for a power hungry madman (not his words, exactly). Additionally, Raila’s fight for a Premiership with executive power is completely silly because it makes no sense to have a government run by 2 strong and opposing powers. With regards to majimbosism, the ambassador was not exactly a fan. He said it drew its ties from colonialism and would be taking the country backward instead of forward – an issue I intended to take up with him after the lecture.

After the lecture concluded, I went around the room and talked to several people about my plans for KenyaTrust (I don’t think I’ve formally mentioned that on this site yet…soon!) and advertised MamaMikes.com extensively (Segeni, get ready for those hits!). I met some very interesting people and had some great conversations, many of which I look forward to following up. As I was leaving the building I managed to coincidentally get in the elevator going up with the ambassador. Once we arrived on the ground level I shook his hand and told him it was a pleasure. He seemed very interested in my insight and said he wanted to talk to me more, and I told him I wanted to talk to him more extensively about majimboism (VICTOR!!! haha). We got into an interesting debate on the steps of the building where I was given 2 more business cards — one from a Kenyan who works at the World Bank and I think particularly liked my side of the politics, the other from the ambassador himself who invited me to his office to talk politics. Overall it was an absolutely amazing evening.

To all of those in Kenya reading, you all were in my mind tonight (especially Fred, KJ, Victor, Segeni and all of the MamaMikes team, and of course Mark (while it’s still not exactly the same as Condi, haha)). Everybody was asking me when I was planning on going back to Kenya…haha, so Segeni — maybe I’ll have to prove the soothesayer wrong and book my return flight to Kenya!

Take care, and good night!

So one of my pet-projects this semester has been integrating the needs of community based organizations and the global reach through e-commerce that MamaMikes.com has developed over time. I established the MamaMikes Social Outreach program to create a new medium by which non-profit organizations in Kenya can gain access to a new donor base, ease the ability for donations to be made, and do so in an organized manner. The program is starting off with a partnership with Mama Fatuma Children’s Home. I’ve developed a series of packages that can be purchased on MamaMikes to not only help Mama Fatuma through the direct benefit of the goods received, but will also assist in alleviating funds that can elsewhere be invested. The store can be found from the MamaMikes Homepage, click the “Social Outreach” button at the top of the page, and then there will be a link to Mama Fatuma Children’s Home. Hopefully this will be a successful venture and the program can be expanded over time to other organizations throughout Kenya.

Also, here is a link to the MamaMikes blog entry about the new partnership: Click Here.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_sNcIj5m9Dk&rel=1]

I don’t think I’ve shared much about the work I’m doing at MamaMikes. I invite you all to check out the project I completed not too long ago: the MamaMikes Blog. It’s a good place for customers to keep up to date on new updates and new or special services offered. Martin and I worked closely on this project and are proud of the end-result. Now it is primarily getting everybody on the same page regarding the purpose of the blog and getting regular posts going.

I’ve been working hard on putting together the MamaMikes Social Outreach Program that I created. It’s been a bigger task than I expected! We teamed up with Mama Fatumas Children’s Home in Eastleigh and hopefully this service will be up within the next week. I’ll be sure to post something so you can check it out!

Also, I’m working on a “Mystery Project” that I’m keeping confidential until it’s up and running, but it’s been an exciting and adventurous ride and I can’t wait until the wheels are in motion! Right now I’m working on getting our start-up funding. Once it’s established I’ll fill you all in!

Based on the readings prior to the trip, I expected a lot of history. Lamu was for a period of time the trading hub of East Africa. Boats would come from all over Asia (including the Middle East) and Europe to trade. It is the birthplace of the Swahili people and language (in that the Swahili people were the result of inter-marriage among the Bantu and Cushite peoples – Bantus being a native African group and Cushites being of Arab-influence). I expected a predominately large Muslim population. And also I expected, because of the tourism and it being hailed as a celebrity hot-spot, a very developed/expensive shore-front and nightlife.

Our plane landed at the airport on Manda Island (across from Lamu island (Lamu is an archipelago). We traveled by Dhow(a traditional wooden sailboat once used to travel across the Indian Ocean) across the water to Lamu town where we walked down a small ally to the Stone House Hotel just a ways up. We were greeted by the staff and management with Coconuts to drink (which were a bit bitter compared to the ones we had a few days later). While everybody was working out room arrangements I stepped outside to talk to some of the staff and KJ’s friend Satan. We headed up to our rooms and dropped our things. Victor (who was my roommate for the weekend) and I went upstairs to the restaurant and sat down and chatted it up with Nafisa, the new manager and owner of Stone House. She is from Ethiopia originally, met an Italian man in Somalia, married and lived in Bologna with him for about five years, and has since lived in Nairobi for about 15 years. She moved to Lamu last February to start running Stone House, while her husband travels around for his work with an Italian NGO. We hit it off right away and had several great discussions throughout the weekend. Victor and I headed out to explore a little bit, walking up and back down the main street on the waterfront. The streets smelled strongly of the Donkeys (the predominant form of transportation outside of walking and Dow). Most everybody I saw was wearing the traditional Muslim/Arabic white robe (I don’t know how to call it – Anthony you can help me out with that one). We stopped at a small restaurant called Hapa Hapa where I had the best orange juice I ever had. We stayed there and people-watched and chatted a bit. I left to see what people were doing for dinner, and found everybody on the roof of the hotel getting henna done. I left with a group of people to an Italian restaurant down the waterfront (which was mediocre). On the walk back I stopped to two partially veiled Muslim girls that stopped dead in their tracks after hearing me say hello in Kiswahili/Sheng. One invited me to her house, and I told her maybe tomorrow afternoon. We exchanged numbers, and I thought innocently of the whole situation until KJ suggested the next day they may have been prostitutes – which completely surprised me. Later down the strip a group of students were at Hapa Hapa and we stopped. I stayed outside and started a chat with three beach boys, two of which were nephews of KJ’s friend Satan. I introduced them to some of the group (2 girls of which got irrationally mad at me for giving their names out, which I thought was absolutely stupid). A few of us went along with them to Petley’s (a rooftop bar on the strip), for a few drinks and a show put on by a group of Mombassa acrobats. From there an even smaller group of us went to the “disco” which I was told was “not far” and the happening place to be at night. I was getting frustrated with the slow pace of things without doubt. The “disco” was quite a bit away and it was just a cement block with a sound system and a disco ball. Not feeling it I stepped outside and met a girl named Jenny from Wisconsin who was here for a study-abroad semester last semester and decided to take this semester off to stay and work with street-kids cleaning them up and getting them some of the basic education and skills they need to be able to sustain themselves.

The next day we took a ride on the Dhow as a program to Manda Island across the way to spend the day at the beach. I tried to stay out of the sun so spent most my time up at the bar talking with Satan, played a little beach Frisbee with Alan, Alfred (KJ’s boyfriend), and Satan, and took a walk with Rachel exploring the rest of the island. From there we had lunch on the beach (rice with a vegetable-type sauce that was great, and fresh fish which I did not partake in). Victor and I played some soccer on the beach with some of the beach-boys and the crew of our boat while the girls were getting more henna. We boarded the Dhow and went to the opposite side of Lamu Island to the Takwa ruins. The people of that village/town had moved there because it was largely hidden and they could be prepared for attack (good lookout over the open waters and very hidden). The most intact part of the ruins was the mosque, outside of which was the biggest tree I’ve ever seen in my life called the bao bao tree. What was interesting was that the mosque pointed directly to Mecca, which has since been proven using technology. Apparently they could just tell at the time they were building using the stars. The accuracy of things from the past that today we rely so heavily on technology for just amazes me. Anyways, on our way back we stopped at Shela beach (the more expensive and fancier part of Lamu) to grab drinks before heading home. That night Victor, Alan, Nafisa, and I ate together at the restaurant on top of the hotel (of course politics dominated the discussion of the night). Somehow shisha and hookah came up in conversation and Nafisa mentioned she had a few hookahs her daughter bought for her that had never been taken out of the box. We went with her after dinner and put one together and took it to the top of the hotel where we smoked shisha, talked, and enjoyed the scenery (and the full moon).

Sunday I slept in and woke up around 11 planning to swing by Shela beach where I knew some of the girls went for the morning. On my way out I ran into Elizabeth who told me our group meeting time got pushed back an hour so we wouldn’t have enough time. So she and I went to one of the back main streets and got grilled meat on a stick and passion juice off the street (10 /- for each stick of meat, and I think it was 10 /- for a glass of juice – a very cheap and good lunch). She went her own way and I walked off on my own exploring, through the streets, up to the center of the island where all the homes were and there was a little area of palm trees. I headed back to the water-front where I ran into Sammy, one of the beach boys from Hapa Hapa. He and I grabbed a beer at Petley’s and chatted for a long while, later joined by Victor, before we had to meet to go on our group trip for the day. Sammy and his brother Edwin are actually Kikuyus from the farms not far away. Edwin actually told me the story the next morning about how the Swahili/Lamu people had owned the farms originally, but after independence President Kenyatta asked them if they needed assistance with the farms such as machinery, tractors, diggers, etc. Well they essentially got tricked/forced into giving their farms up to the Kikuyu people that Kenyatta sent up there. So primarily because of this event, there is a tension prevalent between the Kikuyu people and the Swahili people in Lamu that both Edwin and Sammy have said they’ve felt. Sammy told me that he completed Class 8 in school and left because of money. He works as a beach boy organizing trips for tourists and, from this, he gets a commission from the captain of the ship or hotel or whatever the case may be. He is wary about his life in Lamu and wants to move to seek better work. He did fishing for a while, but didn’t like it. He doesn’t want to go back to farming. He told me later that night he was thinking about learning how to build the Dhow boats, but his brother Edwin told me it was very unlikely because it’s so competitive and they want experience.

Around 2 in the afternoon we met the group at the pier and headed off to Matandoni village to visit a woman’s group started there along with the local primary school. I think KJ and I both felt that our questions about the politics around women’s advancement were skirted around, but I did get the answer that the politics exist and the women do face it. The focus we saw was on teacher sewing skills. The girls would come into a 2 year program where they would learn to sew and stitch. After the program, if they showed promise they would be able to rent a machine to take to their home. The problem is, though, they women rely on donations to get fabric. Additionally, they do little to no marketing so I don’t see how it establishes a sustainable lifestyle. Upstairs the center had built a nursery school (of which I have some pictures) for children from the community to learn some basic things before going to the primary school. We went to the primary school after visiting the women’s center and we were bombarded by children. The school faces many challenges, including a growing enrollment with little space or teachers to spread the students out. We were greeted with song and dance that we participated in. It was an interesting experience. Oh and it was here we had very good coconuts! Later in the evening I went on a night boat ride to Manda Island with some of the beach boys I’d met and Elizabeth. Everybody from the program had “other things to do”. The beach was so amazing at night. It was after high tide so the sand looked untouched and blended into the waters. We took some beers and sat out on the beach for several hours before heading back.

Monday morning I went to the Lamu museum with Alfred and we got a guided tour. It was amazing to see the history of the island the blend of cultures from all around the world from trade. It was then that I finally got oriented looking at the map on the wall as to where we actually were and where all the places we visited were relative to each other. To think that such intense globalization was taking place here as early as the 9th century is absolutely amazing.

In terms of my expectations, I was a little surprised at the lack of nightlife. I definitely packed with the idea I would be at nice places, in nice company, and spending a bit of money. I think I expected more of a Shela beach environment on the waterfront of Lamu Town. Instead, it was very much untouched and not developed particularly for tourists. The smell of the donkeys was a little unsettling at times. Also, I was surprised when Edwin and Sammy told me they were Christians. I asked Satan about the Christian population and he told me there were at about 25%. Overall, it wasn’t the romantic vision I had (I’ll admit, although the pictures capture a nice image), but it was amazing to think about the hustle and bustle when the island was in its prime as the trading hub of East Africa. There is definitely a lot of history, and the people are very slow and laid back…and lazy…which can be good or bad depending.

In Other News

We are nearing the end of mid-terms at USIU. I had one last Tuesday and this Tuesday. I have a Swahili mid-term on Thursday. The program, I feel, is going through a strange phase and relationships seem to be somewhat dissipating. Hopefully, things start to look up and get better in those regards.

Sadly, we got news this last weekend that Game Trackers, the safari company we took to Turkana, got held up once again and Kwell (our cook) was shot and killed. He was an amazing chef and an amazing person. He will forever be remembered by all of us that went on that trip and let his death not be in vain.

About four hours into our trip we parted with the paved roads that we so dearly loved, and set off on a bumpy adventure on horrible dirt roads – some considered to be the worst roads in all of Africa. As we neared Samburu, we passed through the last actual town and for the rest of the time did not see one single building or even a duka. What we did see were small villages off the side of the road of huts belonging to the Samburu people. We entered the park and drove about 15 minutes to our campsite. It was dark at this point and in the light projecting from the truck’s headlights, an elephant appeared in front of us on the road. We stopped and flashed our lights at it to get it to move away so we could continue. Instead, it turned toward our vehicle and started scuffing its front foot (much like a bull) at us. We thought it was going to charge us! But fortunately it turned and moseyed away. We arrived at our campsite where there were tents set up for us and a fire awaiting. As we sat around the fire, our cooks prepared an amazing dinner for us. After dinner, Steven (our tour guide) talked to us about Samburu culture and taught us a traditional Samburu song and dance.

The next morning we awoke to about 20 monkeys running around our campsite observing us. Some managed to sneak onto our bus and had to be chased out. We had breakfast and left for our morning game drive, where we saw tons of animals including elephants drinking water by the river, giraffes cooling themselves off in the river just a ways down, and baboons engaging in “Discovery Channel” activity (use your imagination). After the game drive we went to a Samburu village where we were invited to participate in song and dance, to see inside the huts, and to see how the village operates. The Samburu are a nomadic tribe, so about every six months they break down their village and move to an area where their animals can graze. It was interesting talking to them, but there was a sense of lack of authenticity seeing as it was overly welcoming and tourist-oriented. Steven, the night before, had told us about the cattle raids that still go on between tribes and now that guns were being imported from Ethiopia and Somalia they had gotten much more dangerous. While at the village, I asked one of the Samburu if their village was a target for cattle raids. He told me it was and that they were ready with spears and swords. Alan asked him, “Well, what if they come with guns?” To which the Samburu man responded, “Oh, well then we call the military police.”

The next day we left Samburu for Marsabit, an extinct volcano heavily forested on its upper slopes. We stopped for lunch alongside a very large crater where at the bottom we saw a village and a man herding his sheep along the side of the crater. From there we traveled through a national park that was heavily forested and took a pit-stop for drinks at a quiet get-away lodge on Lake Paradise. The lake got its name because it is literally no more that 15km from completely arid land that borders the Chalbi desert. Alongside the lake were baboons and water buffalo. We spent the night at a campsite just outside the park where we pitched tents. The next morning I woke up early and went for a run with Segeni and Alan. We ran up to the park-gates and back, through the town. As we ran back, a bunch of school children on their way to school started running behind or alongside us. We had breakfast, broke down our campsite, and left to travel through the Chalbi desert to the town of Kalacha.

Kalacha is a small town just boarding the Chalbi desert, primarily run and funded by missionaries. When we arrived we pitched out tents and went strait to the swimming pool…or rather the half water tank. After lunch we walked to a nearby church that had a lot of paintings inside that are similar to those found in Ethiopia. It was interesting seeing, within a church, depictions of Jesus as black. The bus picked us up right outside the church and drove us back out to the desert to watch the sunset.

We left the next morning headed to Lake Turkana. It was a long and arduous drive, but simply amazing once we arrived. We pulled up to the shores of the lake to see several traditional huts right on the beach that we would be staying in for the next two nights. As lunch was being prepared, a couple of us walked along the rocks on the shore where around the bend we saw two naked kids jumping on the rocks. We walked toward them and saw a village close by. We went up to talk to the kids, but they did not speak any Kiswahili or English. They were very interested in my sunglasses though because they could see their reflection in them. They would look at them, then start cracking up laughing. Some of the village elders came down after seeing us, but even with them we were lost in translation. There was a lot of attempts at non-verbal communication, smiling, laughing, and shaking hands. We went back for lunch then went to an actual swimming pool for several hours. I cannot even describe how hot it was – you could not possibly drink enough water or wear enough sunscreen. It really cooled down, though, in the evening due to the very strong winds.

The next day we went on a boat ride on Lake Turkana out to an El Molo village. The village, along with a very nice school building, had before been inland and we had passed it on our way the day before. But the village was raided several months ago by another tribe and several people, including several children, were killed. After that event, they moved their village to this island where it would be much harder for them to be attacked. The El Molo are a tribe whose main economic function is fishing rather than cattle – as many of the tribes in northern Kenya rely on. They showed us around their village, which smelled awful due to the fish, but was very interesting. After we returned we went back, first of all we saw a crocodile in the lake just by our campsite. Oh and I forgot to mention that Lake Turkana is infested with crocodiles, spiders, scorpions, and we saw two mongooses. So anyways, after returning from the boat ride we went back to the pool and then returned to the campsite to go up and see a group of Turkana people perform traditional dancing with the sunset over the lake as the backdrop. We all got pulled in to do the dancing with them – one of which was a game where you are jumping up in down but the objective is to trip the other people and if you fall you owe the other person a goat. Later that night a few of us were sitting in the open-air “dining hall” hut drinking Tusker (Kenyan beer) and chatting. Segeni called in one of the village elders that was dancing that night who was a fortune teller. For 100 shillings each, he would answer our questions by spitting on his sandals, banging them on the ground, and then throwing them down to see how they land. First of all, they guy had to have been drunk because when we saw him he was carrying three empty Tucker bottles. It was funny, until he got to me. Apparently, I won’t find love in Kenya, or ever. I won’t return to Kenya ever. And when I asked him if I were an animal which animal I would be, he asked all the animals and they all turned me down. But everybody else got a kick out of my misfortune.

The next morning we left Turkana early for two days of driving back to Nairobi. About 30 minutes into our trip the bust abruptly stopped and all I could hear was a bunch of shouting. The only word I could translate from Kiswahili was “Pesa! Pesa! Pesa!” – “Money, Money, Money”. Out front window I saw one of the guys that were sitting in the cab run to the other side of the bus with his hands in the air. I moved the cloth I had earlier put over my window to shade from the sun and saw a man in a red shirt jumping up and down on a rock shouting what translated to “Remove the Money!” Kwell, our cook, climbed into our part of the bus and asked us all to take out just a few hundred shillings each to give to them. After getting the money all of our staff that was outside jumped into the truck and we drove off. As we pulled away I saw the man squatting next to a rock on the road aiming a large rifle at our bus. We couldn’t call the police because the nearest cell service was at least three hours away and the nearest town was about 2 hours away. We stopped in the town of South Horr to report the incident to the police. This was the first time Game Trackers (our safari company) had ever had an incident like this and the police were also very shocked that something like this would happen in Turkana. After the incident was reported and went out on the police radios we all got together and sat in a circle to talk about the incident and going forward. We stopped by 2 more police stations on the way to Maralal, where our campsite was for the evening. At the final police station they were like, “Why are you reporting this to us? That’s not Kenya up there,” which goes to show that that area really is the forgotten land. Victor joked, “You’re right, it’s Afghanistan!”

The next morning we departed for Nairobi and were accompanied by two armed military police, one in the cab and one in the back. Their accompaniment was not solely based on the incident, but also due to the large number of cattle raids that had been happening in the region amongst the 3 primary tribes. We dropped them off about 4 hours into the trip in a small little town (I have no idea how they got back to Maralal considering a 4 hour taxi ride back on those roads is kind of a joke). I talked to one of them during one of our potty-breaks and he told me that he had worked in several places including Nairobi and that up North it is much harder work than in Nairobi.

As we pulled up to Nairobi, it was very strange seeing matatus on the road and city life again (considering we hadn’t seen another car for the last week). Walking into our apartment was like walking into a four-star hotel. It was a heck of a week, full of adventure and so much diversity: city to villages; desert to forested areas and waterfalls; government funded projects to strictly missionary funded projects. It really impressed upon me how diverse Kenya is and the development challenges that this creates.

I literally have 377 pictures from the week, but I picked a few (which is still a lot) to put online. Check them out here.

When we arrived in Naivasha (about 1 hour away) we got out of the van not knowing where the others were and people started coming toward us. Then this younger guy came up and goes, “You must be Marco, right?” We all just looked at each other like, “No, not here too!” because over the last couple of weeks people have come up to me at bars knowing me already apparently, or even one bus driver stuck his head out of the window and yelled “HEY MARCOO!!!” When he said he was George, the guy we called to take us around, we laughed and sighed in relief. We went up and met the other group who had arrived about 30 minutes ahead of us. For 1,600 shillings each, George took us on a walking safari, out on the lake on a boat, and to lunch – food, beverage, and transportation in a private matatu included.

Our walking safari was amazing. We were the only people out there, accompanied by an armed ranger incase one of the animals caused trouble. We hiked through the brush trying to avoid all the poop, but were literally 10-15 feet away from Giraffes, Zebras, Gazelles, and all sorts of little creatures I have no idea how to call. We were standing taking pictures of a Giraffe and started to walk away when somebody went, “Marco, turn around.” I turned and slowly approaching us with curiosity was a lone Zebra. We all stopped and started taking pictures of it and then more of them came toward us looking at us as if we were some kind of spectacle. I mentioned that to somebody and they replied, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re looked at like we’re a spectacle everywhere here.”

Our boat ride on Lake Naivasha was a neat experience. There weren’t any hippos, because they were all hiding in the brush. But you could see people from the nearby village at the public “beach”. The children were playing around waving at us and the women were washing their clothes in the water, because there is no running water in the village. George bought three fish from a boat of fishermen and we went down the lake a bit to where the African Fish Eagles were perched on the trees. He stuffed their mouths with a plant off the water to make them float after he threw them. He whistled to get their attention and then tossed the fish into the water. Just moments later the bird circled and then swooped down and snatched the fish. I got some awesome pictures. The first fish was perfect. The second, the eagle came down circled and didn’t see it and went back to its tree. The third fish, the eagle swooped down but then dropped it, went back to its tree, the made a second go for it and got it. I got a great picture of the bird dropping the fish.

Afterwards I treated George to a beer at the open-air bar by the lake where all these little monkeys were running around freely. We then went to lunch where we had chicken and rice at a restaurant overlooking the lake. Alan had asked George where he lived and he pointed down the road. After lunch he took us to see his place, which was a small studio-like room down an uneven cement ally with clothes lines we had to navigate through. In his room/apartment? he had squeezed in a bed, 2 couches, a desk and armoire. The roof was the same corroded tin-roof you see in the slums, although he did have sturdy cement/stone walls. He had a TV and sound system for his bootleg music-video DVD’s that put out some serious sound. We asked how they neighbors felt about it, but he said the walls were made of stone and pretty soundproof. One of his neighbors was walking by and saw a bunch of white people in his place and probably thought we were robbing him or something so he stuck his head in to make sure George was there. The mans son, sat down next to me and hung out with us while we watched the music videos and chatted. When we left all the little kids came up to us asking “how are YOU?” and posed for some pictures for us. We gave George money for the trip home (half of what we paid to get there) and he negotiated with the busses that stopped for us as we waited in the private matatu alone. As we sat there people were coming up to the windows trying to sell stuff. One guy opened Ashley’s window and I told him “No go, dude” and shut it on him. All of a sudden this guy we didn’t know ran up to our van, slid open the window, unlocked the door from the inside, and opened it shouting “Let’s go!”. We were a little confused but figured if we were getting kidnapped…well whatever. About 8 guys swarmed us telling us to get on the bus while we were looking around for George. They told us we were paid for and it was okay to get on. Then we saw George, said thanks, and got on the bus. It was a pretty awesome day, despite the strange and stressful events on the way there and back. We’re planning on going back at some point and doing Hell’s Gate with George sometime before we leave.

Giraffe Centre
Last Friday we had a class field trip to the Giraffe Centre in Karen. We got a handful of little treats and one at a time the Giraffes would lick it out of our hands. The crazy people of the group put the snacks in their mouths and let the giraffe take it right out of their mouths – gross. I found a giraffe that new how to catch and we got an awesome video clip of two of us throwing treats into its mouth back and forth – honestly probably deserves to be on America’s (?) Africa’s Funniest Home Videos. We took taxis from there to a nice little restaurant, definitely upper-class, with a garden and monkeys in the back. It was nice to just sit outside, have a beer and some hummus, and be able to breathe air not polluted by burning trash and car exhaust.

Interesting Observations
Power outages are a regular “phenomenon” here in Kenya. I remember writing a paper last Fall about US development assistance in sub-Saharan Africa and reading a Center for Global Development paper talking about how the number of power outages affect business output, but I guess I didn’t really expect it to be as widespread and frequent as it is here in Kenya. The power in our apartment has gone off multiple times, and there is a generator in the back that kicks in to power the perimeter lights and the gym. And even while I was posting my last blog entry in the internet café in the posh Sarit Center mall the power went out. We spent an evening at a previous student’s boyfriend’s house in the very posh neighborhood of Lakeview (the house was literally across the street from President Kibaki’s son, who is apparently wealthier than his father so I’ve heard) and even there the power went out. And Kenyans are conservative as it is with power because of the expense.

Going along with power and the power structure, in Naivasha there is a lot of development with KenGen plastered on it: bus stops, restaurants, bars, etc. I asked George about it and he explained to us that KenGen is a company that utilizes the hot springs in Hells Gate to generate electricity. When I asked him if that electricity benefited the local community, he explained to me that it was sold to Kenya Power (a, and I think the only, part private/part public central power company) that then sold that electricity back to the town and throughout Kenya. I forgot to mention above, George doesn’t pay for electricity to power his sweet entertainment system. Instead he invested in a solar panel that sits on top of his tin roof and is connected to what may as well be a car battery that then provides him with the electricity he needs.

Oh, and I didn’t mention the flower farms earlier that we saw in Naivasha. I was sitting in the living room talking to Kim about how all the flowers in our apartment died so quickly and I attributed it to the typhoid-infested water, to which she asked where the flowers came from because they were so cheap but she hadn’t seen flowers being grown anywhere, which triggered my memory of the flower farms in Naivasha! It was truly amazing. There are literally miles of greenhouses along the side of the road and it seems to be an economic “clutch” for the community. First of all, I’d never seen that extent of “flower farming”. I wish we could have gone inside to take a picture of the miles of flowers. I did get a picture from the side of the road that I’ll probably never post. But a larger part of the community seemed to be built around it. We drove by what looked like a long cement Motel 6, that George pointed out as being the housing for the flower workers. After telling Kim about it I thought it was kind of sad the living conditions these workers were living in, but then I thought…what else would they be doing? They’d be living the day-to-day struggle (more so than they are now) that so many people are stuck with. Here they have a community built around this industry and there is a hospital I noticed about mid-way through the length of the “housing development.” I remember reading about the flower exporting business in China I think it was. It’s a pretty intense business! Somebody will have to look up the stats for that as a percentage of Kenya’s exports and e-mail me.

USIU
Classes are getting worse as time goes on. Actually, I don’t really want to talk about it.

MamaMikes
My internship this semester is with an online business called MamaMikes.com. They provide a way for those with loved ones in Kenya (wink, wink) so send vouchers to stores and restaurants, products, pre-paid phone minutes, pay children’s school fees, and much more. I came in with several ideas of where I want to take the company and am currently working on pursuing those. My current projects include designing the MamaMikes blog so people can keep up to date with the company and services provided and a social outreach program so people can make donations to local organizations. It’s a great environment to work in: free (yet slow) internet and the people are fun to talk to about politics, culture, Kenya, and about anything that comes up. I’ll be sure to post the link to the blog once we’ve finished – which should be within the week. I’ve taken on the social outreach completely by myself and have realized, it’s a whole lot more work than I expected. But I’m excited for the final product. We’re starting small to test the service, and I won’t say much more until something is actually up and running: until then it’s classified.

Upcoming Events
October is our month of traveling. The weekend after next we will be going to Lake Turkana for a week (and everybody has been telling us there is NOTHING to do there). Then we are back for another two weekends then we are flying to Lamu, on the coast, for a weekend. Then two weekends after that a group of us are planning a trip to Mombassa.

Yesterday marked our one-month Anniversary and we had a group pot-luck dinner in one of the apartments. It’s hard to believe, and scary to think about how much there is to do in such little time. I don’t think it will be too hard to leave, though. Some of the girls have been saying how in love they are with Kenya and they never want to leave…I’m over it (for now) haha. It just wares you down, the transportation, the stress, the food (or lack thereof when I’m feeling stingy and nobody is feeling generous). It’s an interesting life, but hard.

Oh, I forgot to mention…
I went to the park today close to where I work and stood around listening to what is called “The People’s Parliament”. You can walk around the there are circles of mzee(s), or elder men, talking about politics and issues. They got very excited to see a mzungu, white person, interested in what they have to say. It’s truly neat to see something of the sort where democracy has not become as complacent as it is in the States. Men stand around in the park debating issues and expressing opinions for all to hear and challenge. And apparently on Fridays it’s aired on National television. I get a picture of ancient Greece in my head when I see it. Alright, that’s all.

Oh, and I have some pictures…the Giraffe Centre was the first place I actually took out my camera, but I’ve collected a few from others. I tried to post them at work, but the connection is too slow so maybe over the weekend I’ll take my laptop to the internet café and try uploading them there. I’ll post the link to them here.

Our Politics of Culture in Kenya class is taught by KJ once a week on Fridays. What I like about this class is that it combines social and development issues with what we are experiencing and seeing in our day to day lives, and also what we are not seeing. I think it will be a very interactive class, which is awesome. Our first assignment was to read three articles about the stereotyping and generalizations of “Africa” in the media and in literature and about the recent politics of Kenya. After reading the articles we were instructed to discuss them with at least three native Kenyans.

Tuesday was my first day at USIU. The registration process is full of tiring bureaucracy and trekking around campus turning in forms. My first class is at 9AM, meaning I have to get up at 6AM to shower (in coordination with my roommates) and be ready to leave the compound around 7. It’s a 15 minute walk from our compound to the matatu stage in the morning, from where we take the matatu to City Centre to catch the USIU bus that leaves at 8:15. Campus is very beautiful and they have a gorgeous new library (much nicer than ours at AU) that will be opened in the coming week by President Kibaki.

My first class in the morning is Contemporary International Ideologies. There are six mzungus (five of which are from our program) in the class and a lot of international students from surrounding African nations. Our teacher is…interesting to say the least. He definitely seems insightful, but nothing too profound has been said yet. We spent the whole class introducing ourselves (and still didn’t finish). Probably about 90% of the class aspires to be diplomats. I hope it will be a very insightful and interactive class. There is definitely a broad range of perspectives in the class, and hopefully everybody will be more vocal than in some of the classes I’ve been in back in the US.

My second class is International Business Operations, in which I’m the only mzungu. I met a cool guy names Collins that sat next to me. He is looking to finish up school this year and then go on to work for a business while pursuing a Masters in the States and hopes to get into real estate. We talked for a bit before the class started about the real estate business in the US. Our professor is a adjunct from the Nairobi University School of Economics. He spent a large chunk of time “breaking the ice” and then segued into talking about globalization and the criticism of globalization. I picked up on a few little differences, at least in articulation, from the way I’ve studied the subject (particularly his first-person reference of the developing countries). Hopefully we’ll continue to flesh this out and get some good discussions going. He said in the class he plans on giving 3-4 unannounced tests, to which the entire class shouted “NO!”. One girl in the class proposed take-home tests, which was agreed to after an overwhelming vote. I’m a little discontent about this in that everybody in the class has different access to resources for a take-home test (ie. Other students, internet access, etc.) and I feel at a bit of a disadvantage in that regard. I think it will be a challenging, but rewarding, class in the end.

After classes we grabbed lunch at a small restaurant around the corner from campus. We started to figure out our paperwork and turing things in before getting exhausted and giving up. We got on the bus back to town and after a long wait left back to downtown Nairobi. It started pouring rain on the way. We had to walk several blocks from the bus stop to our matatu stage in the pouring rain. When we got there a matatu pulled up for us and tons of Kenyans attempted to pile on (Kenyans hate the rain), but the tout was pulling them out to ensure all of us could get on. It was a very clear example of what KJ and Victor have told us about a “higher/superior” treatment of white people in Kenya left from colonial days. It logically seems like it would be the opposite case (ie. Take care of your own before foreigners), but it happens and it’s definitely interesting. We got back to Westlands and trudged through the mud and puddle-infested roads to get to the Sarit Center (the City within a City Mall) where we collapsed in the food court to just get a little break and then headed to the internet café. We stayed in that general area until our Kiswahili class at 7PM. I got back to the apartment for the first time in the day around 8:45 – well after 12 hours of pure stress.

This last Sunday we had a picnic/party at musician Eric Wainaina’s compound, where the new AU Abroad Kenya office will be sharing space. I met a lot of neat people, but my favorite by far was a guy named Howard. Howard is a freelance photojournalist who has traveled around the world, most recently Afghanistan and Iraq. He was full of great insight and just an awesome guy to talk to.