BeerLaos To The Rescue

I think this has to be the most overwhelming blog to be done. A lot, I mean A LOT has happened since I last wrote. I am sitting here, in a wee cafe in Auckland (New Zealand) trying to think back on all the things that have happened in the past 3 months. South East Asia happened and many a shananigan.
Maybe I'll start with Laos. I was so ready to get out of Chang Mai (northern thailand) after being there for a couple of weeks altogether. It's a nice enough city, but enough is enough. Especially when you are used to changing places every other day. We took a minibus 6 hours to the border, where I met some creepsters from Turkey who seemed nice enough at first but started to freak me out by the end. We spent the night in a cozy triple. "We" being me, Josie and her boyfriend. Cozy. Then we started the 2 day boat trip into Laos. 2 days, 12 hours. On a boat. The engine was so loud it vibrated into my soul, and the wooden bench was definitely not big enough to fit this badonkadonk. But we made it in one piece. Welcome to Luang Probang. A super cute, quaint, very French influenced town in northern Laos.
The hiking bit was the most memorable experience. Here's a passage I am going to insert directly from my journal, as I can't remember the fine details without it:
"I am sitting on a small wooden stool with Laosian men all around me. They are cooking bird and I am trying to use my small vocabulary I learned on the hike up to this small village to communicate with them. We hiked for about 4 hours today and arrived in this village which reminds me a lot of Nepal. We had dinner which our guide carried with us from Luang Probang. Buffalo meat, veggies, and top ramen. My favorite. For dessert? Fried dung beatles. Surprise, it was scrumptious! It tasted like pumpkin seeds. As we were walking, we came across a small hut. I wandered inside to see what anyone was up to and found platefuls of cow poop lined up on a table. Weirdest thing I've seen people eat, yes thos would have to be it. Poop with chiles. Gourmet goodness. Our guide was also telling us they eat bats, snakes, spiders, steamed ants, all sorts of poop, worms, bees, squirrels, etc. Oh and let's not forget the gatos and peros! Poor little guys. Everything but humans. We think.
Today I saw my first leech. Then a few minutes later I had one stuck on my leg. It wasn't sucking my blood yet, so I had a small panic attack and quickly removed it. At least they don't spread malaria. At least I don't think they do. We walked for another 6 hours and finally came upon the second village. Our guide found a chicken and we watched him slit its throat as the blood trickled into a silver bowl. I didn't want to watch but it was kind of like a car accident. You just have to. He then defeathered it and chopped all the different parts. Josie tried to the crown. Yum!
Last night we slept in a barn in which the villagers called a "guesthouse." Since the owners have a nother house, they gave theirs to us for the night. Sleep was the opposite of restful. At one point there was a gong going off, 2 babies crying, cat's meowing, and a rooster fight. Inside our "barn" there were dogs, cats, goats, and children. One of the babies decided to take a poo near the first, of course.. who wants to go outside where it's freezing? So he made a little poo poo then one of the puppies came along and licked it right up. It was a dog vacuum. A dogcuum. Free cleaning service provided.
Our guide told us the history of the Hmong people, coming from China. Well, more like they were forced out of China by the government then the Americans came and forced them to help fight in the Vietnam war. Then the Laos people "asked" them to help fight. By then, a lot of them fled to Thailand and eventually ended up in the high mountains of Loas where no one would bother them. Our guide (Sing) said that each village has at least one shaman (witch doctor) and a government that includes one chief that is voted for by the people of the village, based on their education and experience. Sing's father is a shaman. But now he lives in the bustling town of Luang Probang and drives a tuk tuk. A tuk tuk driving shaman. Old world meets new world. Who would have thought... If you could only see the way they live in these villages compared to Luang Probang. I bet it was a shocking adjustment. Sing told me that to become a shaman, the spirits choose YOU. THey enter your body and tell you its your duty. They are paid in animal heads and with the right arms of big animals only. Sometimes money but its not really useful in villages with no currency. The shamans then use the animals as offerings to the spirits and ask them to help in guiding the practice."
We made it back to Luang Probang in one piece, and without having to trade any arms with the shaman (most importantly). Then we went on our separate ways. Josie and Lo (her bf) off to Vietnam and I headed south for the winter. Like a bird. And it wasn't winter.

Thai Boy Team, Thai Boy Teaaaam!

The flight from Kathmandu to Bangkok was a little less than 3 hours and boy did it fly by. Muahaha
Unlike Kathmandu where I was welcomed with a necklace made of marigolds, Bangkok welcomed me with stomach cramps the size of Texas. I was curled up in a ball in the corner of the taxi cab with Josie rubbing my back while digging to the bottom of her bulging elephant sized backpack for the pink magic pills aka pepto. I tried to enjoy the new modernized scene but the billboards the size of semi trucks, endless lights, brand shiny cars, and a horizon full of skyscrapers just overwhelmed my senses and made me feel worse. Finally the taxi dropped us off at the infamous Kho Saun Road, the most touristy/backpacker filled part of Bangkok. Out I jumped, well, more like crawled to the sidewalk where I stayed until Jos scurried into the nearest guesthouse, found a cheap $5 rom and I was in bed within 10 minutes.
The next day we found the nearest salon, and I got my hair trimmed- or more like evened out, since my attempt at a self hair cut in Kenya landed me with 2 layers. One short and one long, making it look like a Kindergartner got a hold of some scissors and let loose. That evening, I bravely went where not many people go... Well, I didn't really go anywhere but rather met an Austrian speaking Spanish and eating insects, who offered me my first grasshopper. I felt like I was on Fear Factor, but not getting paid. I had to break off the legs and then the head which was the toughest bit since it has EYES and its head was connected to this long spine-like piece which made me gag a little while removing it.
"It's a french fry!" the Austrian/Spanish guy kept yelling. "Just pop it in!"
"The whole body??" I said.
"Of course, its the only way!"
And down the hatch it went.
It didnt taste like a french fry.

The next day we visited the Royal Palace. It's kind of like the Disneyland of Asian temples. So colorful and shiny. It's a pretty large complex so natually Jos and I lost eachother. I decided to plop myself down in the last place I saw her. As I was waiting, this really beautiful young Thai woman with stick straight medium brown hair and gentle eyes sat next to me and asked "is this your first time here?" I explained that it was and also my first time in Thailand. She was all smiles, until I started asking her questions. She told me that she had married an Australian and had been living in Oz for a while, helping her husband with some kind of shop when she suddenly got sick. She was back in Thailand to see the doctor, which she had done earlier that morning. Apparently the doctor delivered some bad news, as it brought her to tears just talking about it. She said she was at the temple of the Emerald Buddha to pray and receive good luck. It broke my heart. It also reminded me how precious life is and how easily and quickly it can be taken away. And how powerless we are. And how sometimes acceptance is just the right thing to practice. Especially when so many things are out of our control. I really hope the Emerald Buddha gives her the luck she needs.

Speaking of doctors, I made my own trip to the doc once we arrived in Chang Mai (northern Thailand). I have had a small tumor like growth for a couple years now. I had it checked out before I left home, and they said it shouldn't be a problem unless it grows or becomes painful. Well it had done both, so when I got to Chang Mai I headed straight to the hospital. There aren't really health clinics in Thailand so everyone goes to the hospital for their health issues. It was a very different experience than one you would get in the US..
I walked in, gave them my name and passport number and I was seeing the doctor within minutes. He recommended surgery, and said he could do it the same day for 1/10 of the price it would be in the US. Since I was little, I've been scared of anything medical, so naturally, I hesitated. I told him I'd have to talk to my parents then get back to him. But my parents were on a cruise in the Carribean with no cell phone service, of course.
Long story short, I sucked it up and did the damn thing. It was probably the most courageous thing I have done in my whole life. Doesn't sound like much, but it was really difficult for me. Even tougher than climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro.
I get the biopsy results back in a few days, so Jos and I are full of positivity as we await..

We rented a motorbike for the day from a place called Mike's Big Bikes. Mike was from the UK and told us all about the sex trade here. It's hard not to notice as there are plenty of old/fat white men wandering the streets with beautiful young Thai women on their arms. Mike thinks its a good thing as he says Thai woman are just able to look past the age and beauty factor and just enjoy anyone and everyone's company. He says they can look past the exterior and "really just see people as people." I understand what he's saying but they are still selling their bodies and I am sure a lot of them would prefer not to. But because they'd rather earn 100 times more money having sex than picking rice, they do it. I hear both sides and both sides must be benefiting or they wouldn't be engaging, but I still can't help but cringe when I see the many couples holding hands in the streets and bars, one their way to getting juiced up till the legs spread and the bed starts creaking.

We finally got out of Chang Mai and ended up in a small town called Pai. My friends who I climbed Kili with said I would love it, and they were exactly right. It's a super cozy town nestled in the middle of mountains and jungle, with a small river trickling around the edges. We crossed the rickety bamboo bridge with our oversized backpacks and I definitely thought we were goin in. We found these small bamboo bungalows with hammockson the porch and instantly fell in love. I finally got to run, too! Out of the city, where I didn't have to maneuver around cars and people . It was just me, some bugs, beautiful pink sunset, and a coiled black snake in the middle of the road. Dead, thank God but scary nonetheless.
Pai is super touristy, the majority of them from Thailand. There was shop after shop selling "Pai" t-shirts with differnt slogans like "Pai in the sky" and "Apple Pie" and super hip/trendy long haired hippie types everywhere. There were even super cutified VW vans lining the main street selling coffee and souvenirs out the windows.

Our favorite night in Pai started with live music and ugly caricatures. Mine had 3 chins the size of a football field and Josie's eyebrow went off her head. Then we met Tom, the guitar player from the jazz band that had been playing. He gave us some Thai lessons and beer. After the bar closed, we were whisked away on motorbikes with him and his long haired friend. Off the Bebop where we drank lots of Chang and danced to some raggae and blues. Lots of hippies, locals, and expats including the singer of the blue's band, Mojo who was from Oz and looked like Adam Sandler. We danced a lot. Tom and his long haired friend smoked a lot.Then we moved again.
I asked Tom if I could ride his manual motorcycle. I didn't tell him that I had learned when I was 8 and hadn't ridden once since then. Muahaha
There was a cop in front of us and Tom kept saying "Slow down!!" until he noticed we had a flat tire so we swung into the gas station, filled up, and were on our way to bar 3.
PS-I could so be a Harley chick. :)
At the 3rd bar, we got more beer and sat around the bonfire. More beer for us, more cigs for them. I spotted a long haired hottie, and started speaking Spanish with him. Yes, he's from Spain. We tried for a bit to talk across the table but that didn't really work, so I invited him to come sit next to me. He was great. My Spanish was even great. Liquid courage is what I call it. David practiced massage, offered me one, and silly me forgot about it a few minutes later... Oops.
Meanwhile Josie was getting friendly with another local. Jackie the drummer, who looked like a combination of Johnny Depp from Pirate's of the Carribean and the drummer from the Muppet Babies. He sat right next to her, kept putting his head on her shoulder while saying "helloooo" in a British accent. David and I took pictures so she could never forget it. :) :)
5am hit and back to our bungalow on David's motorcycle. A long embrace on the bamboo bridge and a poor effort to initiate anything on my part left me cold/shivering and ALONE in my sleeping bag next to Josie for another night. Before we went to sleep though, we couldn't help but watch the UFO's outside our bungalow.
We had spotted them the first night, and Tom gave us some clarity. "Not UFO's ... haha lanterns!" They were paper lanterns that the Thai people send into the night sky to rid themselves of bad luck. Josie and I sent our lanterns into the atmosphere the next evening and said ADIOS bad luck, HOLA Laos...

Before we left our happy little Pai town, we decided to do a rafting trip.
What made the whole trip, besides gliding down the river through absolute lush jungle with bright blue kingfisher's swooping overhead and monkey's howling in the distance were the 3 Thai men who were on the trip with us. They were hilarious! Every time there was even a slight possibility of rapids ahead, they would start bouncing up and down and yelling like girls! They called themselves the Thai Boy Team and they would push eachother into the water and told us they thought Jack Daniel's tasted like bananas. We'll never forget our little Thai Boy Teeeeam.

Just wrote a looooong entry, and it was deleted.

Maybe I'll try again tomorrow....

Yak Pies and Marijuana Fields

Well, it's my last day in Nepal. And I have to say this is the most sad I have been to leave a country. Out of all 3,427 countries I've visited so far, I have to say this is one of my favoritests.

My friend Josie met up with me, my first day in Nepal. I am finally with a trusted companion and it feels great.
I feel very lucky to travel with Josie. We are the "same same but different." We are on the same page about almost everything and I am so greatful for that. Its crazy how travelling with someone can be so hit or miss. Travelling with someone you do not enjoy can really make a trip difficult and can include some resenting real quick.
I feel happy with Josie every day. We are basically one. :)
Anyways, we started our time in Nepal meeting up with a recommended guide, Jaya. He picked me up from the airport, said he wanted to discuss our plans that evening and we were off within 2 days. Jos and I had no idea what we were getting ourselves into but went with it because, well, it just felt right.
Off to Chalis Gang (I have no idea how to spell it). Jaya's rural village.
We rode the local bus for 6 hours, then changed into a jeep to do some 4 wheeling. We rode on the top :) ... Past rice fields, deep valleys, huge spiders, and steep cliffs. It was kind of like riding a bull.
Finally arrived at the place we were to sleep for the night. There was no power, obviously and we quickly showered with our wet wipes and enjoyed a nice soup and dal baht prepared my our guide Jaya. We slept in the most simple of conditions. Bed frames with little to no cushion.
We got up the next day and started our walk. Up and down, down and up. For 8 hours. Through amazingly beautiful countryside. Arrived at destination in the evening, and really wanted a shower. What did we get? A communal water tap in the middle of the small village. Nepalis are very conservative especially when it comes to nudity so we attempted a shower by holding up towels for each other and bathing in the glacial river water. Aww refreshing. We ate with the locals, slept with the locals, and pood with the locals. This included finding a spot with a view and lettin' it go, let it flow. In the wild. :)
One more day of walking 8 hours and we finally arrived at Jaya's village.
We were welcomed in the dark by fields of fireflies fluttering about. I had never seen one before so it was pretty magical for me. Before we settled in our shed for the night, we decided to have a quick bathe. This included getting naked (because it was dark) then trying to avoid the random flashlight turned on by a snickering 5 year old trying to make us squirm. It wasn't relaxing, to say the least.
There were 2 fireflies that managed to sneak into our room before we went to sleep. It was nice to watch their glowing little bodies before I closed my eyes and let my sore body rest for the night.
We spent 3 whole days in Jaya's village. And lucky for us, it was during one of Nepal's biggest festival. The Tihar Festival. This includes dedicating one whole day to celebrate the cow, buffalo, crow, dog, and brother/sister. The dogs were all running around with red paint on their foreheads and the cows sported wreaths of marigold flowers. On the day of the brother/sister blessing, we were included in the tradition. We set up camp outside of Jaya's parents house which included lying a blanket down and setting out a plate full of roti (Nepali bread), beer, beans, flowers, money, etc. for the sisters. The sisters (which included most of the young women in the village) came around to bless the brothers. And us. We received tikas (red marks of paint on our foreheads), wreaths of marigolds, roti, beans, and lots of beer as well. I got tipsy as it had been a while since I had any kind of alcohol. Josie made fun of me for feeling anything after 2 cups of beer. It was beautiful.
Later, a group of older ladies set up camp on our doorstep and were blaring Nepali music while showing us their latest dance moves. We were basically "encouraged" to dance with them so round and round in a circle we went, same song over and over, twirling our wrists to the sound of the nasily woman singing lyrics we did not understand.
The next day we hiked up to an abandoned Buddhist temple with beautiful views of the Ganesh Himal mountains. Later that evening, we were welcomed for dinner with Jaya's family and tried buffalo meat for the first time. Tasty but chewy, mine had a welcome hair ball attached so it was short lived for me.
Buffalo milk, beaten rice, black tea, and dal bhat is what we had for 9 days. Dal bhat is the food of choice in Nepal. The Nepali people eat it for lunch and dinner. EVERY DAY. It includes white rice, lentil soup, vegetable curry, and sometimes pickled goodies. Usually more veggies.
We were pretty sick of rice by the time we returned to Kathmandu. But there are plenty of Western dishes available in Kat so it wasn't a problem to get our fill.

After returning to Kat, off we went to Pokhara. A smaller but still touristy town set on a stunningly beautiful lake surrounded by the Annapurna Mountains. Couldn't get much better. Unless you went into the mountains, which we did!
We did what they call the Jomsom Trek, which is the second half of the Annapurna Circuit (which basically all tourists come to do in Nepa). We cheated a bit because of lack of time and sore muscles and took a local bus to the small village of Jomsom. The ride wasn't the least bit relaxing. Loud horns beeping at trekkers in the road, close calls on blind turns, and tires very close to the edge of the cliff. But we made it, and settled into a cozy guesthouse in Jomsom for the night.
We made our way to the pilgrimage site of Muktinath, where tons of Hindus and Buddhists from India and Nepal come to receive blessings from the eternal flame that rests there.
We met a hippie lady named Cathi from Austin, Texas, who had a rat tail she had been growing since 1984. And a drug dealer from NY who is living in Thailand and receiving money from his 5 clients who still live in the states. Woooooooooooo!
We saw a yak that had just been slaughtered and was being skinned, so we decided to stop and watch them remove it's balls. As the Nepalis would say "deri deri" interesting.
Shortly after the yak skinning, we saw a crowd of people around a goat. We tried to sneak a peak, and suddenly I saw something beating. Yep. The goat's heart was outside of its body, still beating. Craziest thing I've ever seen, probably.
The next day while walking through jungle, I mentioned to Josie that I could imagine monkeys parading through the jungle toward us.... And maybe 2 minutes later, we saw these huge greyish/white monkeys swinging above on vines above our heads.
That night, we got the best room in the hood. It was this old lookout tower that had 360 degree views of the Annapurna mountains, with Machupichare (the fish tailed mountain) straight in front of us. The sunset was magical. The management even brought us a bucket of coals to keep us extra warm for the night since there was no insulation and we were in the Himalayas...
All around us on the trek down were fields of mary jane, which the 2 French guys we were walking with stopped to collect in bags full.
We passed a tiny tiny little village near a big waterfall where stopped for lunch. Little did we know this would be the place we would find the best macaroni and cheese on earth! Yak cheese, cream, and butter with homemade shells of goodness. With a waterfall splashing in the backgroud. Bliss.
We made it back to Pokhara and indulged with lasagna, pizza, chicken butter masala, tiramisu, ice cream, etc. We may or may not have gained 10lbs...
For our last days in Pokhara before heading back to Kathmandu then off to Thailand...
we decided to do a 2 day yoga and meditation retreat.
It was very relaxing, minus the MASSIVE hairy/clawed spider bigger than my face that was about 4 feet from my bed in the middle of the night.
Needless to say, I didn't sleep well on the second night of the retreat. The yoga center was overlooking Phewa Tal, the misty lake near Pokhara. So it was paradise, and the yoga and meditation helped clear our minds while the organic veg curries and lemongrass tea helped cleanse our bodies.
Bye Bye to Pokhara, knowing we will return.. We are now back in Kathmandu and it is our last day in Nepal. We are both glowing in happiness and couldn't have asked for anything better, but sad to leave this amazing country. Its peacefulness and happy eyes.
Its women on the side of the road picking eachothers hair for lice. The men playing a game similar to pool and kneeling cliffside pondering life. Incense everywhere.
Namaste Nepal. Thank you for helping to perfect my broken English.
I will never forget you and I know I will return.

Kili Time

This update is way delayed, but I finally have a second to sit down and do a little recap.
I am writing this in Hotel Potala in the tourist district of Kathmandu, but my time on Kilimanjaro is still fresh in my mind.
The hiking bit of days 1 and 2 were super enjoyable. Day 1 was a four hour hike through the jungle book. Day 2 was more steep and mostly rocky, but again only 4 hours of hiking. At that point, I developed a UTI, which stayed with me for the remainder of the trip. My poor climbing group had to hear me complain about my aches and pains AND stop for me to pee about every 10 minutes. Bless them. :)
My first night I think I may have slept an hour. I didnt feel like I slept at all, but the only reason I knew I slept was because I remembered my dream. It was about my little gay Spanish soul mate, Samuel. Aww. I was telling my tent mate, Kat about him the night before so naturally I dreamt about him.
My climbing group was awesome. My tent mate Kat is from Australia and on her second around the world trip. She's been robbed twice which makes me feel bad for her, but thank my lucky stars it hasn't happened to me. Hannah and Sam are from England, and they are just hilarious. Hannah asked one of our guides if he had a girlfriend. In Kenya and Tanzania you have to pay in animals in order to take a wife from her family. Of course Hannah asked if you could get a refund on the cows if you weren't happy, the guide didn't really understand.
Hannah and I practiced our Spanish all the way up the mountain and we all sang our Swahili song over and over again each time we passed a group of people. Let's just say everyone who climbed Kili at the same time as us definitely knows this song well, now.
JAMBO, JAMBO BWANA. HABARI GANI, MZURI SANA....
One night I walked into my tent and saw something slimy near my sleeping bag. It even had 2 antennae! Kat said she'd take care of it after she peed. When she came back, she took one look at it and came out of the tent laughing. "It's your wad of gum with hair stuck to it, mate."
Oops. :) hehe
The views from each stop were absolutely breathtaking. The sunrises were the best. And from each campsite you could see the top of Kili. THe glaciers would glow at night, waiting for our visit.
Day 3 was tough. We walked for 6 hours to "lava tower" where it was freeeezing cold. On the way down I got a real bad headache and my UTI was raging. We made it through in pretty good spirits considering. Because of the high altitude, the path goes up and down a lot to help with ACCLIMITIZATION! We were all really lucky that we didn't get sick. Just some minor headaches. I heard later that one guy who was climbing when we were, died! He was our age too! I guess he was getting the symptoms of altitude sickness and kept pushing himself. It's crazy shit.
Going pee is in the free, and sometimes its harder than you would think. Especially when its windy. On day 4, I went behind a rock real quick so not to hold up the group for too long. I came back and we were on our way. I may have peed a bit on my shoes and I may or may not have tried to hide it from the group, but good ol' Kat noticed and announced to the group in a loud voice, "Mate, you pissed on your shoes!" Thanks Kat!
Day 4 was like walking on the moon. It was slightly snowing when we reached our camp called Barafu and the guide told Kat it was the coldest its been in a long time. Lucky us. My poor toes!
I was wearing 7 layers of clothes, 4 pairs of socks and I was still cold. From Barafu camp, we would make our way to the summit.
It was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.
I didn't get a wink of sleep the night before our climb to the top because I was freeeezing. We hiked 6 hours in the morning. Tried to sleep in the afternoon and then woke up at 11pm to climb 7 more hours straight uphill! Insane. The first hour of the climb to the top wasn't horrible, but everything after that.... Not so enjoyable. Everything was hurting, I had to pee every 30 minutes, it was freezing to the point where I couldn't feel my fingers or toes, and it was getting more and more easy to get out of breath. It was either stop to catch your breath and freeze or keep going panting like a madwoman. Even our water froze. Solid.
The crawl to the top was just that. We went at snail pace because thats the fastest we could go. And their was a train of lights in front and behind us, from all the people trying to do the same thing we were. The moon was full and it helped us see our way. It was a full moon, we got super lucky. Absolutely beautiful. It lit up the glaciers as we crawled past them.
It felt like I'd been hit by a car and running on no sleep didn't help. Everyone was struggling after the 4th or 5th hour. FINALLY we made it to the top bit and we all started crying. We were overwhelmed and completely exhausted. We made it to the peak right at sunrise. A moment I will never ever forget.

After Kili, we relaxed our aching bodies for a couple of days before taking off on a 2 day safari to the Ngorongoro Crater. The highlight of our safari were the lions, of course. They came wandering right up to our vehicle and used the shadow of the car for shade. They basically look like my cat (for those of you who know her, Kiki) except slightly bigger and beige in color. They are amazing. Their paws are about the size of my face. I was trying to talk to them, but they weren't interested.

We said goodbye to all the animals, and the Masai people and headed to Dar Es Salaam. Hannah, Sam and I stuck together for the rest of our trip and Kat said Adios as she headed towards South Africa. Dar was a bustling city, with great food. Lebanese for dinner was yum yum in my tum! Hummus, falafel, and garlicy eggplant heaven.
We took the 4 hour ferry to Zanzibar and were in paradise for 4 whole nights.
There were lots of reggae men, dreads, weed, and still.. amazing food. Really I can't remember much besides all of the yummy dishes we managed to come across. Mostly seafood as for those of you who don't know, Zanzibar is a tropical island.
The water color was crystal goodness, so of course we had to do some snorkeling. Mostly eating but a bit of snorkeling and swimming. The island seems to be taken over by Italians, so the locals speak Swahili and Italian, naturally.
I heart Zanzibar.

We made our way back to Dar after our nice tropical vacation, and parted ways. It was the first time I'd been alone in a while so it was weird to get used to but I knew I would be meeting my good ol friend Josie in just a couple of days so all was well.

I said my goodbyes to Africa and hopped on the flight to Doha. During my 5 hour layover in Doha I plopped myself down in one of the amazingly comfortable plastic chairs of the waiting terminal and low and behold there was a stunning Asian warrior a few rows ahead of me. He had a confidence to him that usually doesn't fit the shy Asian personality I am used to. I watched him for a while. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, actually. He noticed. We kept making eye contact, but I couldn't get myself to smile. I was infixiated on him and wondering why, as I've never really been keen on Asian men. I began wondering where he was from and kept hoping he was going to Nepal too...
Turned out he was on the same plane and he was only the beginning of the handsome men that make up the beautiful country of Nepal ...

Did he just say "Tom Sawyer?!!!"

Tom Sawyer, Bill Clinton, USNAVY, who’s next? During my stay here in
Kenya, I have been fortunate enough to meet Tom Sawyer and Bill
Clinton! Who would have thought they would both be in Kenya at the
same time as me??? People name their kids after famous people they
hear about. Apparently, they also name their kids after the first
visitor in their house (ME!) as well. Baby Maureen should be a good
one. As far as USNAVY, that was in Guatemala. There was a seaside town
where many ships would pass, among them, ships marked with US NAVY on
the side. Hence why there are now many children around that area now
named USNAVY. Creative.

If I was born in Kisumu, my name would be Maureen Anango Piercy, as I
was born in the late morning. They say it’s the “best” time of day to
be born. How fitting, considering I am the best ;)
What would your middle name be?

Akinyi(females)/Omondi (males)- early morning
Anyango(females)/Onyango(males)- late morning
Achieng(females)/Ochieng(males)-mid day
Adhiambo- eveningAtieno- night
Awour(females)/Owour(males)-one who sucks hard at their mother’s teet

Tabu-one who is born giving pain/trouble to their mother or if the mother gave birth while in jail

Flamingos, Baboons with pink butts and babies on their back, Rhinos,
Zebras, Grazing giraffes, and me fussing over a broken camera. Lesson
learned. Too dependent on my camera, it’s not the way I want to live. One
of the ladies who works for Ogra said it best, “it’s OK Maureen. Its
life. These things happen.” They may have been simple words, but they
were effective. Then I thought about where I was and who I was
surrounded by. Most of the people here have never even seen a photo of
themselves. And the lady who said that to me was orphaned at a young age and had to raise her younger brother in the slums. Sorta puts you back in your place..

Mosques. The only other ethnic group you see in Kisumu are the Indian’s. They are the rich one’s who drive nice-ish cars and own stores in town. You can hear them as well as African Muslims in the mosques chanting, praying, singing, etc. The mosques are the nicest buildings in Kisumu.

Oh and Malaria is everywhere. People just get it and deal with it. No
big deal. Out for a few weeks, but its OK. Sawasawa (means OK in Swahili). Hakuna Matata. I still make sure to take my pill each night. Although it’s a common thing, its not
really something I want to try. I’m all about the traditional
experience, trying new things, etc. but this is one thing I can see on
their faces that is not fun. They say they are OK but their faces tell
a different story. No thank you.

My phone was stolen right out of my bedroom. But its OK, I only needed
it for my alarm and the clock anyways. And emergencies.. My Mom said ‘someone probably needed it more than you did.’ She’s right. But the strange thing is how much importance they place on their phones. You can see little kids walking around the slums, looking for their next meal, with a flashy new cell phone. Grumbling bellies, no problem, as long as I have my cell phone. In Guatemala, it seemed similar except they placed more importance on their cars then their cell phones. Flashy cars, but dumps for houses. Interesting priorities.

And I knew the larvae would come.
The drain in my shower doesn’t work properly and sitting water=breading grounds for
mosquitos. Now it’s a nightly ritual to crush all the larvae I see in
water and flush them down the toilet. Fun times.

Matatu, Boda bodas, motorbikes, and tuk tuks. Kenyan forms of
transportation. My favorite are the Boda Bodas. Riding on the back of
a bicycle down the hustling/bustling streets is one of the best
things. Definitely the most exciting form of transportation and free
air conditioning. I had a 49 year old driver the other day who was
working all the youngens. Good guy.

Masai’s are all around town, with ear lobes hanging low, clubs in
hand, gords (traditionally used to store sour milk, mmmm), knives, and
draped in large sheets of bright colors. I even saw one this morning with a wooden carved bow and arrow!! So cool! The Masai tribe is generally
found in the Rift Valley region of Kenya, and are hunters and hurders,
but are hired in Kisumu mostly as security guards. They are quite
intimidating considering they all carry knives and clubs.. ha. But the
one’s that frequent the pool tables on the side of the road are hard
to take serious. A traditional Masai warrior with a pool stick in hand
is a funny clash of modern and traditional, one of my favorite sites
to pass each night on our way home from work. I am super intrigued by the presence of the Masai. So I decided to read the White Masai. I am halfway through and can already recommend it! I even know all of the Swahili words that are italicized in the book now. I am basically Kenyan.

Picking up our clothes at the tailor was like waiting for Santa to
come on Xmas eve. We picked out the cloth that we wanted from one of
the busiest stalls on the big Sunday market. People come all the way
from Uganda each Sunday to buy and sell their goods. We picked out our
favorite material, and brought it to a local tailor the next day. She
fitted us and told us to come back in a week. We were so excited all
week long, and couldn’t wait to see our new clothes! The tailor made a
day out of it, by making us some rice pilaf and salad to enjoy while
we tried on our new clothes. I must say, Africans sport their clothing
a lot better than Mizungus but they are still beautiful and I will
give it my best go.

Everyone welcomes us with food. Like I look like I need more food… For
example, the lady I met on the walk home, who invited me into her
house to make friends with her lonely daughter in law who’s son had
never been around a mzungu and stared at my face with wide eyes and
would put his dirty little finger up to my white skinned face every
couple of minutes in astonishment. She asked if I wanted food and when I politely declined she brought out bananas anyways. What’s funny is that I never thought I would GAIN weight in Africa. When I was in Spain right before I came here, my friends kept giving me endless amounts of food, as that is the Spanish way. But on top of that, they insisted I eat double the amount they would usually give to a visitor, as I probably wasn’t going to be eating much in Africa. WRONG WRONG, VERY WRONG.

My work: I’ve been blessed to visit many of Ogra’s programs, but I’ve
been teaching English and history at Oasis of Hope Secondary School that was
created for orphans and underprivileged children. In Kenya, even
though the government just made primary school “free” there are still
hidden fees such as books, uniforms, backpacks, food, etc. that many
parents (or relatives in most cases as the majority of the students
are orphans) cannot afford. Some girls do not have access to sanitary
pads so they end up missing a whole week of school each month. My new
friend Bex and I decided to bring them some, because we think every
girl should have access to those simple yet necessary items. Last week
in class, I gave a lecture on the Kenyan Bill of Rights…
I had to tell these children that part of their rights is to have
basic needs met, such as food, shelter, education, etc. Ironic. How am
I supposed to answer these kids when they ask me why they don’t have
access to these things, and have been brought up in slums, wondering
where they will get their next meal if they will get one at all. I am
sure they know why. The violence from last year’s elections told a
story. A story that says they are fed up with corruption and want a
chance. A chance to succeed. A chance to spread the wealth from the
government to the people. They all talk about Obama because he is from
Kenya, but they are all hoping one day to have a leader like Obama who
will help the people instead of their own selfish desires. High School
isn’t even free yet. One day..
I did see an organization set up for alcohol and drug addiction, and a
night shelter for street children (the one’s who sniff glue and lurk
around the streets waiting to pop out and rob people), but not much in
the way of helping poor adults. Ogra does run a medical center
offering free health care, for those who can make the trek out there.
Many are HIV/AIDS patients who are so weak that they cannot make the
trip. What’s nice is that my friends at Direct Relief are the one’s
sending most of the medical supplies including the ARV drugs, malaria
pills, mosquito nets, etc. that help these people tremendously. GO DRI!

The other day, while spending a bit of time in the medical center, we
walked in on a 2 week year old twin who had some limb deformities. The
doctor explained that the lady lived about 100m. away and decided not
to come in for regular check ups or pregnancy tips, and ended up
having a very sick child who will probably need some kind of surgery
in the near future, in which the lady definitely could not afford. All
because she decided not to make the short walk to the free medical
center. I was confused as to why she wouldn’t take advantage of these
services. The doctor explained that many of the women know about the
center, but are just ignorant or follow their cultural customs which
would be to hire a midwife and nothing else.
One of the old African beliefs was that if you had sex with a virgin, it would cure HIV….
I didn’t even know how to respond to that. And even worse is that the
custom still happens to this day. What faster way to contribute to the
spread of such a horrible disease? And the one’s who are most
affected? Babies. Innocent little babies.
I’m sorry if that is hard to hear, but it’s the truth. And the truth
should be heard, no matter how horrible it is. But how are we supposed
to help them if they keep holding onto these traditions? How is a
white mzungu from the USA or UK supposed to come in and tell these
people how to live, even though they have been surviving for hundreds
of years? This tradition is not just in Kenya, but widespread
throughout Africa. It’s not very common, but still heard of,
especially in more rural areas. Practicing witchdoctors preach this
nonsense. Some may also ask for man’s genitals so they can be burned
and used as part of their healing rituals. The other day, one of the
teachers at Oasis of Hope (the school I have been teaching at) said
that her neighbour was brutally murdered in front of one his children.
The murderers chopped off his genitals and ran with them. Proof that
these customs are still alive today. Even in “modern” Kisumu.

On a happier note, my friend Bex and I are helping to organize a
library which in theory will eventually be accessible to the public
and not just the students! We are using our western education to show
them how to organize the books (donated from churches from the US, GO
AMERICA) and how to create a check out system. Who knew we could
contribute such a seemingly simple piece of knowledge to create
something so great for them?

Today brought me to tears. Me and a couple from New Zealand have been frequenting the place called APECC, which is a church group who runs a home for the sick and destitute. This includes the mentally ill who are chained to trees. There are many “volunteers” who work there and give their time to help take care of these people who are dropped at their doorstep because their families simply don’t know what to do for them anymore.

They do really good work there, with their lack of resources. They have a pretty self sustainable farm with cows, goats, chickens, sheep, etc. And they grow every fruit and vegetable imaginable. They also have a well nearby. And a school. The only thing is the nearest hospital is 8km away. That’s a long ways away when you are sick... And the kids at the nearby school make fun of the children from APECC because they are orphans. I know kids can be mean, but to make fun of someone else because their parents died and left them to fend for themselves... a little more than harsh I would say. I’m not writing to make you feel sorry for these people, though. Today was our last day and they had a goodbye ceremony. Every day that we visit, they give us their best food and are so welcoming. But today, almost everyone got up and spoke to us about how grateful and blessed they feel to even know us. They expressed how much it meant to them to even have a white visitor. And they kept repeating how it was a sign/blessing from God to keep doing the work they are doing. Talk about inspiration. They kept saying we were inspirations, but the work they were doing was more than impressive in itself. So selfless. Sort of like a commune. I am sure that term would scare them if I explained it, as they aren’t so liberal, but very family oriented.

I had to hold back my tears throughout the whole ceremony. Crying in African cultures means you’re sad and we didn’t want them to think that. We explained later, that in Western culture, we cry when we are happy as well. They were wondering... Then we had to speak. I again, had to swallow the lump in my throat. I hope things change for them, but I think they are on the right path. They are working towards self sustainability and I think that is such forward thinking for such a small, rural place. They know they cannot soley depend on donations from Western countries so they are making a huge effort to help themselves. That right there is the most important thing of all. As Western cultures keep shoving huge amounts of money at these poor, uneducated countries, we keep the cycle going. Because what happens when the money runs low? I’m sure Africa won’t be on top of the agenda. And then what? APEC is more prepared than most of the groups that I’ve seen here and it makes me happy to see people taking care of each other in such a beautiful way. They have hope and it’s beautiful and it radiates from them. J

Caribu to Kenya!

CARIBU! Welcome in Swahili. Although most Kenyan's speak Swahili, in Kisumu, they speak Luo which is a local dialect/language. So rather than picking up Swahili, I have been learning mostly Luo words.
Erikimanu. Thank you.
Eriti. Goodbye.

A couple of examples I thought I'd thrown in to show you that I am basically African now...

So let's get down to business...
Since I got here, I have been going to different projects that the Ogra Foundation sponsors. This includes orphanages, schools, a feeding center, a health center, and a place for the sick and destitute (which means mentally ill, disabled, and elderly)... At APEC (the place for the sick and dest) there is this pastor who freaks me out and singled me out by asking me if I was a Christian. I wasn't afraid to speak the truth, and after, he told me he would pray for me that I would find Jesus. He is a little bit creepy. But that place is crazy. It means well, but they just dont have many resources. Thats why they have to chain the mentally ill to trees because they have no idea what else to do with them and no access or knowledge of medication. They just pray pray pray and hope they get better. Today we met 3 boys with epilepsy who have seizures weekly that last about an hour they said. =major brain damage and no medication. They just sit around all day which is the saddest part, they don't allow them to go to school.
The home visits to HIV patients were ... for lack of better words, interesting.. me and this other guy volunteer were the first visitors in the house after this lady gave birth to a baby girl, so tradition is you name it after them. I thought they were joking when they kept calling her Maureen. I got to hold her and got a nice photo with baby Maureen. The lady hadnt eaten for 2 days and her baby hadnt either. They also couldnt afford to pay the midwife so she couldnt leave with us to go to the medical clinic. I decided to just pay the midwife so she could come with us and get a proper check up. And the baby needed to be tested for HIV too. Its insane that the education is there (i.e dont breastfeed your baby as you have a high chance of transmitting HIV ) but what else can they do when they cannot even afford to eat? What do you feed your baby??
Things like that + traditional customs interfere with modern education. Everyone says the answer to Africa's problems is education. But I've talked to many university educated Africans who seem to think it's important, but who have told me that there are numerous people with college degrees who are driving taxis or tuk tuks because there just aren't many jobs in Kenya. You have to know someone or be a certain tribe to get a good job. Its sad. Politics. Corrupt government. If education isnt the answer, then what is?
It's hard to see a light at the end of the tunnel for Africa, but all you can do is your best with what you have. And the Kenyans sure do that.
As far as everyone's generous donations....
I have the opportunity to choose where the money I have fundraised goes. I get to choose one or more of the projects that I've visited and allocate the money as I see fit.
I haven't decided yet where I will put the most money, but I am thinking the secondary (or high school) called Oasis of Hope. Its a secondary school created for orphans and those who cannot afford school fees. Which is a shockingly large portion of the population.
I will let everyone know what I decide so y'all know where your money is going :)..


Oh and I'm sure everyone wants to know what I've been eating...
Traditional African food, of course. This thing called Ugali, which is this sticky cornmeal type of thing they mush up with their hands and add spinach/fish/meat/etc to. They have a lot of Indian food here too, including ciabatti which is my favorite! They drink a lot of soda because its so cheap and their meal portions are gargantuan. Never ever ever thought I would be gaining weight in Kenya, but my stomach is no longer flat and the kids are starting to touch my belly and ask if there's a baby inside. Not a good sign. Oh and a normal morning ritual includes waking up with staggering stomach pains and making my way very quickly to the bathroom. But I've gotten used to it.
So that's one less thing you have to worry about. And for the most part, I feel really safe and everyone's been overly friendly.
The scenery is beautiful, very tropical and green.
Kisumu is right on Lake Victoria and we went and chilled with the hippos last weekend. The air in Kisumu is polluted and my boogers are brown at the end of each day, which is nice. I don't drink as much water as I should but thats to be expected.
A lot of things remind me of Guatemala. The Tuk Tuks, how the women carry everything on their heads (including bags of sugar, coke bottles, clay pots, etc.), the colors, the buildings, the shattered glass shards on top of the fences to keep robbers out, and some interesting/crazy tribal ideas that they are still embracing today. For example, if people see someone robbing or stealing from someone else, they will create a mob group and stone or burn the person alive. I've met many people who have seen this happened with their own eyes.
Their old customs are still very much alive, and like that one, are quite backwards and slightly barbaric.
On a happier note, last weekend some other volunteers and I went to the local market, bought some fabric, then headed to the tailor to get fitted. On monday, we will pick up our authentic african shirts and dresses. I'm so excited! I would post a picture but it takes about 45 minutes to upload one onto the internet so sorry to disappoint, but Africa photos are gonna be a while before they are revealed.
Ok Ok enough ranting from me. I am off to wash my panties in a bucket. haha
I hope everyone is well and taking good care.

Much Love From Kenya!! <3