Japanese people are really good at two things – bowing and yelling the word hi. Here is how a typical conversation goes.
(HI.) Welcome to Burger King. (HI/Bow)
Can I have a burger?
(HI.) One burger. (HI.) Two dollars, please.
Here you go.
(HI.) Thank you. (HI/Bow) Here is your change. (HI.)
Thanks.
(HI/Bow/HI)
The hi totally freaks me out because they yell it right at you. I’ll be zoned out and then out of no where someone will scream it. I never know how to respond. What is the correct answer to hi, which, by the way, means yes? What till we go home on vacation and I start busting it out. You’ll see.
Our stuff is here! They didn’t think it would get here until Mid-December so we’re pretty lucky. Now we are going to have Christmas with our decorations. Thanks, Santa!
Monday, December 11, 2006
12/08-12/10 – Let it Shine
Jeremy and I spent Friday night in the Tokyo temple. Real estate in Japan is off-the-wall pricy so the Toyko temple was one of the most expensive temples the church has ever built. It’s really tall and not very wide for this reason. Inside and out it is exquisite.
There’s not a lot I can say about the experience but here is a few tidbits I can.
The lobby has an amazing picture of Mount Fuji and cherry blossom trees. I wanted to rip it off the wall and take it home. They also have the most gorgeous Japanese vases scattered around.
People here are really tiny and I don’t think they have very many in-between sizes. So when I had to borrow a dress they gave me one that clearly maternity and absolutely five sizes bigger than necessary. If I wasn’t in the temple……
Jeremy went to change and I couldn’t find him. We all met up and got ready to start but he still wasn’t there. I didn’t want to start without him so I was quite panicked. I was pleading with them in English to let me out while they were firmly pushing me forward so they could start. Right at that moment he sailed in and took his seat. It turns out he wanted to do the session in Mandarin and had rushed off to get a headset. So he looked smart and I looked psycho. Boo hiss.
The ride home through Toyko at night was awesome. Tokyo literally shines. It’s so bright and beautiful; it puts Times Square to shame. It’s also a huge sensory overload. If I was driving I would be all over the road turning my head from side to side. I’d take a picture but I doubt it would do it justice.
There’s not a lot I can say about the experience but here is a few tidbits I can.
The lobby has an amazing picture of Mount Fuji and cherry blossom trees. I wanted to rip it off the wall and take it home. They also have the most gorgeous Japanese vases scattered around.
People here are really tiny and I don’t think they have very many in-between sizes. So when I had to borrow a dress they gave me one that clearly maternity and absolutely five sizes bigger than necessary. If I wasn’t in the temple……
Jeremy went to change and I couldn’t find him. We all met up and got ready to start but he still wasn’t there. I didn’t want to start without him so I was quite panicked. I was pleading with them in English to let me out while they were firmly pushing me forward so they could start. Right at that moment he sailed in and took his seat. It turns out he wanted to do the session in Mandarin and had rushed off to get a headset. So he looked smart and I looked psycho. Boo hiss.
The ride home through Toyko at night was awesome. Tokyo literally shines. It’s so bright and beautiful; it puts Times Square to shame. It’s also a huge sensory overload. If I was driving I would be all over the road turning my head from side to side. I’d take a picture but I doubt it would do it justice.
12/07 – Irony isn’t just for Alanis
December 7th was the anniversary of Pearl Harbor. It was a very surreal experience to be here under the circumstances. As a result of that conflict, Japan’s army was forced to disband and they are not allowed to rebuild it. That is why the US military is here; to secure and defend Japan in the absence of their military. Without Pearl Harbor there would be no reason for us to be here at all. Surprisingly the people here are nothing but generous and kind to us.
It’s inspiring to see how two cultures can be so divided and yet come together to co-existence so well. Perhaps we can have a Middle East rendezvous in Grace Land sometime soon to resolve some issues. Here’s to hoping.
It’s inspiring to see how two cultures can be so divided and yet come together to co-existence so well. Perhaps we can have a Middle East rendezvous in Grace Land sometime soon to resolve some issues. Here’s to hoping.
11/24-12/06 – Who is training whom?
I am loving the library here. I’ve already read five books since we landed. It has been so long since I had time to just sit around and do what I love. Jeremy, who reads much faster than me, has hammered out some best sellers as well. I love, love, love it!
We have been spending some time with Gracie working on Schutezhuen training. It’s an obedience, protection and tracking test for German Shepherds. If you want to breed your dog or enter them into dog shows then passing this test is a must. Yesterday she practiced running up and down very steep hills. I, of course, had to run up and down them first as the example. Needless to say, after about one minute into the process she lapped me. She would run up to watch me struggle and then run down to Jeremy to help him laugh at my progress. At one point she got to the top and refused to come down so I had to go up to the top and get her. It tempts me to ask the question who is training whom?
Being a member of the church is here is overwhelming fun. The people are so kind. One person lent us their car for the week so we could go out and explore. How nice is that? We also get invited to dinner all the time. They also have a ton of events planned so we are never bored. It’s nice to know you have a second family where ever you go.
You are not allowed to leave Japan with a car title in your name; you either have to sell the car or junk it. Since many people end up leaving on such short notice this leaves you in quite a pickle. We saw one car that had a sign on it that said first person to call me gets to have this car for free. Needles to say, we were that person and now we have a car. It has a few bumps and bruises but works great. Once I give it a HUGE cleaning it will be perfect. It’s nice not to have a car payment anymore!
Now that I’m on the road I’ve learned some interested things.
Bikes and people are always right. Even if your sitting at a light and then run into you it’s your fault.
Each car is equipped with a backup sensor. The closer you get to something the loader and faster it beeps. It’s hilarious.
If you get caught driving drunk you have to pay $3,000 for each person in the vehicle including yourself. The limit is also way lower – 0.03 instead of 0.08 in America.
If you splash someone with a puddle you have to play for their dry cleaning.
If you cause the hold up of a train (subway/light rail) you have to pay the fare for everyone on board.
If you’re in an accident and the other person has to go to the hospital you have to pay a Gomen. This means you go to the hospital to give your respects and give them presents.
Cars here are like transformers because the parking spaces are so small. For example, when you shut your engines your side mirrors start going in. I’m always expecting to come back and see it shaped like an origami bird.
When you come to stop lights you dim your lights so the other person isn’t blinded at the intersection.
The toilets here are magical. They have all these options so you can pick what sort of water pressure in the flush you need. You can also turn it into a “area” cleaner with another button. It can play music so that other people don’t have to listen to your noises. It can also spray air freshener to cover up any smells. What are the people here eating they need something so fabulous?
I think we’re in some sort of crazy weather season. The first two weeks it rained almost every day for like 15 minutes. Last week it was warm enough that I wore short sleeves. Now it has started to rain again. Shouldn’t it be snowing?
It hate change. Canada uses far too many coins in its currency and Japan is no different. Anything below a 1,000 Yen ($10 USD) is a coin. After a night out I come back 10 pounds heavier with big bulges of change in my pants. Attractive.
My favorite place to spend all my coins is at the 100Y store. It’s a five-story dollar store that sells super nice things. The dollar stores in the states always have super cheap looking items. Not here. There is no reason to get anything anywhere else. They have a great toy and craft section. I ended up buying a ton of presents there. I’m bringing everyone who comes to visit there.
The plants here are so fun. People don’t have a lot of room so they have to get creative. Because space here is so limited many times they incorporate fruits and vegetables in their landscaping designs. For example, there are a ton of beautiful orange trees everywhere. They also put cabbages instead of scrubs leading up to the front door. You can literally eat your way home.
One of the most memorable dates Jeremy took me on was when we went to see the Army Band play at the Daughter’s of the American Revolution building in D.C. They were amazing. People really got dressed up – men in uniform and women in fancy (black) dresses. It’s when we fell in love with D.C. and knew we could live forever.
Last week he took me on a date here to see the military band play on Camp Zama. It wasn’t as formal but just as much fun. After they played we all went outside to watch them light the camp Christmas tree and sing carols. It was a blast. My first Christmas on a USA military base – who would have thunk it?
This week I had my first job interview. It’s with a small English teaching company right off post for about eight hours a week. I plan on working mostly from home but wanted a few hours out of the house as well. They hired me on the spot and I start in January. Sweet deal.
I also got out to ride the train (the subway) for the first time this week. It is WAY more confusing than any other subway I have ever ridden. There are a ton of different lines and each one is owned by someone different. That means you have to get off and buy a separate ticket each time you switch lines. Since the ticket machines are in Japanese you basically have to guess where you’re going anyway.
The Japanese are very unique in the way they dress. Men in Japan have a very metrosexual look. A lot of the younger crowd have long hair, earrings, nail polish. They even look like they wear makeup. I find myself having to look twice to guess their gender. The girls here dress incredibly immodest. I’ve even seen shorter skirts or lower tops. It really cracks me up when they through on a scarf on to stay warm. I don’t think Jeremy and I will be inspired to join the crowd.
When I got off at my final stop I thought I was in the clear, but then I realized I had no idea how to get from the train to Camp Zama. Like the genius I am, I looked into the sky and followed a military helicopter as it flew overhead back to camp. It turns out I was only two streets away. What a crazy world I live in!
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
G.A.P Adventures
http://www.gapadventures.com
Jeremy found this website in one of his travel magazines. It looks awesome! I can’t wait to try them out. I especially love the culture shock meter. Someday I would love to take a vacation that registers as a five. Anyone want in on this?
Jeremy found this website in one of his travel magazines. It looks awesome! I can’t wait to try them out. I especially love the culture shock meter. Someday I would love to take a vacation that registers as a five. Anyone want in on this?
True Story
The sweet staff at FNS gave me an airplane package for the trip over. One of the items was a National Enquirer. This is a quote from one of the stories inside. It made me laugh so hard I almost peed my pants. Enjoy!
To quell a recent surge in party mortality, the U.S. Medical Birthday Council has released urgent guidelines for safe surprising. Hugs given after the surprise should be firm and rhythmic to support heart action and prevent cardiac arrest. If a loved one is stricken, we urge cardiac catheterization throughout the festivities. During this procedure, doctors penetrate the femoral artery and clear any blockages with a tiny balloon. Some patients request an animal shape, and most surgeons are more than happy to oblige. It might be a good idea to throw your next party right at the hospital. Show your loved one that you intensively care.
To quell a recent surge in party mortality, the U.S. Medical Birthday Council has released urgent guidelines for safe surprising. Hugs given after the surprise should be firm and rhythmic to support heart action and prevent cardiac arrest. If a loved one is stricken, we urge cardiac catheterization throughout the festivities. During this procedure, doctors penetrate the femoral artery and clear any blockages with a tiny balloon. Some patients request an animal shape, and most surgeons are more than happy to oblige. It might be a good idea to throw your next party right at the hospital. Show your loved one that you intensively care.
What are you looking at?
You got to pay attention to where you stop and look.
I have no idea who said that but I wrote it down and have been thinking a lot about it. The theory is that what causes you to stop and look is what inspires you and should lead you. I’ve been trying to do that lately. I’ve taken note of what section I go to first in the library, what movies I recommend, what channels I stop on when I’m flipping through the TV and who I look forward to talking to. By pursuing the things that make me stop and look I’ve been able to avoid the things that make for aimless entertainment. I’ve learned a lot about myself. How fun!
I have no idea who said that but I wrote it down and have been thinking a lot about it. The theory is that what causes you to stop and look is what inspires you and should lead you. I’ve been trying to do that lately. I’ve taken note of what section I go to first in the library, what movies I recommend, what channels I stop on when I’m flipping through the TV and who I look forward to talking to. By pursuing the things that make me stop and look I’ve been able to avoid the things that make for aimless entertainment. I’ve learned a lot about myself. How fun!
Don't Flush
One flush of a toilet is enough water for an adult male in an impoverished country to survive for two days.
I think I read this stat in a magazine article. It fascinated me. It has also made me pretty paranoid about flushing the toilet because of the waste that it causes. Don’t worry; Jeremy has kept my reality in check. I now only commit to “necessary flushes” and let the yellow stuff sit. Even Jeremy has hopped onboard and tries to conserve where ever possible. Go team Robertson!
I think I read this stat in a magazine article. It fascinated me. It has also made me pretty paranoid about flushing the toilet because of the waste that it causes. Don’t worry; Jeremy has kept my reality in check. I now only commit to “necessary flushes” and let the yellow stuff sit. Even Jeremy has hopped onboard and tries to conserve where ever possible. Go team Robertson!
Jeremy -- The Redneck
Jeremy got a super fun smoker before we left for Japan. He got the recommendation from one of his cooking magazines. He was so excited he spent an hour on the phone with the creator/owner of Big Drum Smokers while he made his purchase. The man gave Jeremy a free box of Cherry Wood to get him started, and wanted a photo of Jeremy cooking for the military guys on base for the website.
Here is an excerpt from his hilarious email Jeremy sent me regarding the incident – My man Rocky, owner\operator of Big Drum Smokers, has already made me a proprietary member of his forum so I can talk BBQ with "the guys." Apparently he felt I had the right stuff after our conversation.
Here is an excerpt from his hilarious email Jeremy sent me regarding the incident – My man Rocky, owner\operator of Big Drum Smokers, has already made me a proprietary member of his forum so I can talk BBQ with "the guys." Apparently he felt I had the right stuff after our conversation.
I'm Not Offended
I read this quote from a General Conference talk. I thought it was really awesome and totally true.
When we believe or say we have been offended, we usually mean we feel insulted, mistreated, snubbed, or disrespected. And certainly clumsy, embarrassing, unprincipled, and mean-spirited things do occur in our interactions with other people that would allow us to take offense. However, it ultimately is impossible for another person to offend you or to offend me. Indeed, believing that another person offended us is fundamentally false. To be offended is a choice we make; it is not a condition inflicted or imposed upon us by someone or something else.
When we believe or say we have been offended, we usually mean we feel insulted, mistreated, snubbed, or disrespected. And certainly clumsy, embarrassing, unprincipled, and mean-spirited things do occur in our interactions with other people that would allow us to take offense. However, it ultimately is impossible for another person to offend you or to offend me. Indeed, believing that another person offended us is fundamentally false. To be offended is a choice we make; it is not a condition inflicted or imposed upon us by someone or something else.
Friday, December 01, 2006
11/23 – Happy Thanksgiving!
I was so excited when I found out I was going to have Thanksgiving dinner at the Officers’ Club at Atsugi Naval Air Station. Our sponsor, Simon, was kind enough to invite us before we left for Japan and we were really lucky to have reservations.
The buffet includes breakfast and dinner items, as well as a huge dessert area. The highlight of the day was definitely the chocolate fountain. I covered every dessert on my plate in chocolate goodness. The kid we were with told me that I was not allowed to drink from it. The little scoundrel read my mind.
The ride to and from Atsugi was awesome. The homes along the road are very tiny and beautiful with manicured lawns and orange trees that hang their branches over the sidewalks. Signs with flashing lights hang in front of every store. It feels like Times Square every time you turn around. It makes it really hard to concentrate on any one thing, which is pretty scary considering the narrow roads demand vigilant attention. I can’t get over how clean everything is.
I’m starting to get used to people bowing to us. We’re going to try to teach our dog to bow as well. Why should Gracie miss out on all the fun?
We passed out around five that afternoon, which isn’t too unusual. Every day we try to stay up an hour later and get up an hour later. It doesn’t get any easier at all like I thought it would. We’re both exhausted continually. Starting around four I mentally shut down and I have to struggle to keep my eyes open. I look forward to the day my body gives in and gets on a better timetable.
The buffet includes breakfast and dinner items, as well as a huge dessert area. The highlight of the day was definitely the chocolate fountain. I covered every dessert on my plate in chocolate goodness. The kid we were with told me that I was not allowed to drink from it. The little scoundrel read my mind.
The ride to and from Atsugi was awesome. The homes along the road are very tiny and beautiful with manicured lawns and orange trees that hang their branches over the sidewalks. Signs with flashing lights hang in front of every store. It feels like Times Square every time you turn around. It makes it really hard to concentrate on any one thing, which is pretty scary considering the narrow roads demand vigilant attention. I can’t get over how clean everything is.
I’m starting to get used to people bowing to us. We’re going to try to teach our dog to bow as well. Why should Gracie miss out on all the fun?
We passed out around five that afternoon, which isn’t too unusual. Every day we try to stay up an hour later and get up an hour later. It doesn’t get any easier at all like I thought it would. We’re both exhausted continually. Starting around four I mentally shut down and I have to struggle to keep my eyes open. I look forward to the day my body gives in and gets on a better timetable.
Nov 20-22 – Road Kill
This week I took my class and test for the Japanese Drivers’ license. It was harder than I thought. Some of the signs are written in Japanese are completely different, but many are similar to ones back home. I learned that Japan is 1/25th the size of America but there are two-and-a-half times more cars.
The beginning hour was about drinking and driving, for obvious reasons. The next hour was a video of an American guy driving around Japan. This totally freaked me out and sealed the deal on me never getting behind the wheel here. I passed by miracle alone.
When I went to get my license I noticed on the back of the card was one phrase – Call an ambulance. Thanks for the confidence Japan!
The best thing about getting my license is that it was free. Everything here is free! Back home they are always trying to steal our money wherever they can but here it is totally different. Didn’t bring your wallet? No problem. It’s going to be free anyway. We are going to save a boatload of money here, especially on taxes.
One of the best things about living overseas is something called HOPs. When you take a HOP you can jump onboard a military flight wherever it is going. All you need is a military ID, a flexible schedule and $20. They put out a schedule three days in advance so you pretty much have to be willing to visit wherever they are going. They don’t always leave on time or the same day it’s scheduled for that matter. People say they aren’t comfortable because you fly with cargo, and the longer flights have crazy stopovers in multiple places, but who cares – you can see the world for $20! The ones leaving Japan fly throughout Asia quite frequently, but once a week they also go to Hawaii, Europe, Australia, Sacramento, and so on.
We are totally looking forward to taking advantage of this great deal. We’ve already planned for Christmas in Beijing and a longer adventure through Cambodia, Vietnam and Laos in the spring. I so glad I married someone that has a passion for traveling like I do.
Before I came I had already talked to some wives living here about employment opportunities. Everyone here teaches English here because that pays very well, even better than most military and off-post jobs. The going rate is $30-$40 an hour depending on your teaching experience and educational background. Most everyone teaches from home. I plan to do the same for six hours a day, Monday through Friday. This week I will be creating some advertisements as well as finding websites to get connected, interviewing current teachers about their experiences and researching companies to work with. It’s overwhelming, but I’m excited to get working again. Let me know if you have any connections!
The beginning hour was about drinking and driving, for obvious reasons. The next hour was a video of an American guy driving around Japan. This totally freaked me out and sealed the deal on me never getting behind the wheel here. I passed by miracle alone.
When I went to get my license I noticed on the back of the card was one phrase – Call an ambulance. Thanks for the confidence Japan!
The best thing about getting my license is that it was free. Everything here is free! Back home they are always trying to steal our money wherever they can but here it is totally different. Didn’t bring your wallet? No problem. It’s going to be free anyway. We are going to save a boatload of money here, especially on taxes.
One of the best things about living overseas is something called HOPs. When you take a HOP you can jump onboard a military flight wherever it is going. All you need is a military ID, a flexible schedule and $20. They put out a schedule three days in advance so you pretty much have to be willing to visit wherever they are going. They don’t always leave on time or the same day it’s scheduled for that matter. People say they aren’t comfortable because you fly with cargo, and the longer flights have crazy stopovers in multiple places, but who cares – you can see the world for $20! The ones leaving Japan fly throughout Asia quite frequently, but once a week they also go to Hawaii, Europe, Australia, Sacramento, and so on.
We are totally looking forward to taking advantage of this great deal. We’ve already planned for Christmas in Beijing and a longer adventure through Cambodia, Vietnam and Laos in the spring. I so glad I married someone that has a passion for traveling like I do.
Before I came I had already talked to some wives living here about employment opportunities. Everyone here teaches English here because that pays very well, even better than most military and off-post jobs. The going rate is $30-$40 an hour depending on your teaching experience and educational background. Most everyone teaches from home. I plan to do the same for six hours a day, Monday through Friday. This week I will be creating some advertisements as well as finding websites to get connected, interviewing current teachers about their experiences and researching companies to work with. It’s overwhelming, but I’m excited to get working again. Let me know if you have any connections!
Nov 19 – Count Your Many Blessings
We spent the morning with our sponsor looking for housing on the three bases here Zama, SHA and Depot. The following is what we learned.
ZAMA – This is the main base we are currently staying on. It has a fairly transient feeling as it caters to more short-term people in billets or the hotel. Lots of singles or couples without kids live in the high rises. It has most of the comforts of home like a theater, food court, bowling alley, library, et cetera.
The downside is there is no reason to leave the base because it has everything you need. You could miss out on so much of Japan by not being forced to venture off base. It’s not a great place to have a dog since there aren’t a lot of houses. There is also a lot of competition for jobs because so many people live here.
SHA – This place looks like a regular suburb. It is mostly houses/duplexes. There is an elementary school and high school, and a few home comforts. There are a lot of families and kids here.
The downside is that there are a LOT of kids here, and most things are geared towards them. There isn’t much that makes it unique or special.
DEPOT – This is the most unique of the three. They are closing this base in the next three years and giving it back to the Japanese so they aren’t replacing the families leaving. There are only about 40 families left. We qualify for this housing because Jeremy works on Deport. Because no one is staying here, there are tons of students who are losing teachers and they are in desperate need for English teachers to take the students. This is perfect for me. It will be nice for him to be about a mile from his work; most people have to drive ½ hour each way. It is very quiet, and there is a lot of room for the dog to play. I like it because everything is really spread apart so it will encourage us to walk and ride bikes. There are also no fast food and only one restaurant. There aren’t a lot of stores on base so you have to travel to get what you need. There is a Sam’s Club very close. The people here really get involved with the Japanese community because they are segregated from the rest of the American community. I welcome that thought.
The bad part is there are a lot of abandoned buildings, homes and empty fields. They aren’t up keeping anything up because it will all be demolished in three years. It looks pretty depressing at the moment. With Jeremy gone a lot it could get quite lonely. There is really nothing to do here. People will continue to leave and we could possibly be the last ones standing there. They also say that it is haunted and at night when the fog rolls in you can see whole armies of imperial soldiers standing guard in the empty fields.
Jeremy should find out where we will get offered housing in the next week. Depot seems to be the best option for us both profession wise, but we are keeping our options open. I wanted a real Japan experience while I was here and that seems to be the best option to have that.
Today was our first day going to church in Japan. I was a little sad to hear that it was a 40 minute drive away, but we were able to catch a ride so we weren’t forced to take the bus. The chapel itself is beautiful. It doesn’t follow the normal church model; it’s three stories high with large circular buildings. It looks more like one of our temples than chapels.
There are only 75 members so we got to meet almost everyone the first hour. To put it in perspective, there were only 10 people in Gospel Doctrine, including us, and six ladies in Relief Society. We have one set of missionaries assigned to our branch. Everyone was super nice and we were invited to four different thanksgivings before we left.
I got to see more of Japan driving back. I love the teeny tiny cars speeding around. The roads are so narrow that they are constantly getting scratched up. Everyone here has a horror story of a missing side mirror or a dented side door.
The lights of the city are blindingly beautiful. The mountains are a gorgeous blue color that draws your eyes upwards. It’s hot, even in November. I can’t wait to see more of this fascinating country.
ZAMA – This is the main base we are currently staying on. It has a fairly transient feeling as it caters to more short-term people in billets or the hotel. Lots of singles or couples without kids live in the high rises. It has most of the comforts of home like a theater, food court, bowling alley, library, et cetera.
The downside is there is no reason to leave the base because it has everything you need. You could miss out on so much of Japan by not being forced to venture off base. It’s not a great place to have a dog since there aren’t a lot of houses. There is also a lot of competition for jobs because so many people live here.
SHA – This place looks like a regular suburb. It is mostly houses/duplexes. There is an elementary school and high school, and a few home comforts. There are a lot of families and kids here.
The downside is that there are a LOT of kids here, and most things are geared towards them. There isn’t much that makes it unique or special.
DEPOT – This is the most unique of the three. They are closing this base in the next three years and giving it back to the Japanese so they aren’t replacing the families leaving. There are only about 40 families left. We qualify for this housing because Jeremy works on Deport. Because no one is staying here, there are tons of students who are losing teachers and they are in desperate need for English teachers to take the students. This is perfect for me. It will be nice for him to be about a mile from his work; most people have to drive ½ hour each way. It is very quiet, and there is a lot of room for the dog to play. I like it because everything is really spread apart so it will encourage us to walk and ride bikes. There are also no fast food and only one restaurant. There aren’t a lot of stores on base so you have to travel to get what you need. There is a Sam’s Club very close. The people here really get involved with the Japanese community because they are segregated from the rest of the American community. I welcome that thought.
The bad part is there are a lot of abandoned buildings, homes and empty fields. They aren’t up keeping anything up because it will all be demolished in three years. It looks pretty depressing at the moment. With Jeremy gone a lot it could get quite lonely. There is really nothing to do here. People will continue to leave and we could possibly be the last ones standing there. They also say that it is haunted and at night when the fog rolls in you can see whole armies of imperial soldiers standing guard in the empty fields.
Jeremy should find out where we will get offered housing in the next week. Depot seems to be the best option for us both profession wise, but we are keeping our options open. I wanted a real Japan experience while I was here and that seems to be the best option to have that.
Today was our first day going to church in Japan. I was a little sad to hear that it was a 40 minute drive away, but we were able to catch a ride so we weren’t forced to take the bus. The chapel itself is beautiful. It doesn’t follow the normal church model; it’s three stories high with large circular buildings. It looks more like one of our temples than chapels.
There are only 75 members so we got to meet almost everyone the first hour. To put it in perspective, there were only 10 people in Gospel Doctrine, including us, and six ladies in Relief Society. We have one set of missionaries assigned to our branch. Everyone was super nice and we were invited to four different thanksgivings before we left.
I got to see more of Japan driving back. I love the teeny tiny cars speeding around. The roads are so narrow that they are constantly getting scratched up. Everyone here has a horror story of a missing side mirror or a dented side door.
The lights of the city are blindingly beautiful. The mountains are a gorgeous blue color that draws your eyes upwards. It’s hot, even in November. I can’t wait to see more of this fascinating country.
Nov 18 – Who Doesn’t Love Yellow?
We woke up this morning ready to explore our new home.
For the most part this place is completely deserted. There are only 3,000 people living here between the three bases, which are quite huge. There are no lines at any businesses and no traffic any where to be seen – quite a change from living in D.C.
The first store we walked into was run by the Spouses’ Association. They run a variety of programs for the wives including, for next month, Japanese wrapping techniques, Christmas parade of homes, Kimono wear, Japanese calligraphy, Japanese language classes, knitting classes, weekend outings. For $15 a year I can be as involved as I want. I signed up for everything I could.
The food court turned out to be pretty awesome – Popeye, Burger King, Subway, Anthony’s, plus two sit down restaurants. The prices were comparable to home, except we don’t pay taxes on the food. YUMMY.
The food stores here are called commissaries. They are full of a variety of American products. The vegetables and fruits leave much to be desired but they had most everything else I usually buy. The prices were super cheap, even less than what you would pay in the States. For example, cereal is around $2, a bag of chips $1.50, can of pop 39 cents. They will order you in anything you need that they don’t have so it’s not like there is anything we are really deprived of. And again, no tax! We’re going to save a ton on groceries.
They didn’t put too much thought into decorating; everything is painted yellow. Each building looks exactly the same and it is easy to get lost. They all have brown signs to label them. If I had to judge this place on creativity they would get a big fat “F”. Good thing the scenery is so beautiful on the outside.
Watching television here is interesting. All the commercials are military made and focused. You can’t help but feel extremely patriotic. We only have 10 channels to choose from. None of them are infomercials, which is the saddest thing ever. I’m totally addicted. The shows are also backwards time wise. For example, we watch ER and Amazing Race in the morning and The View and Good Morning America in the evening.
For the most part this place is completely deserted. There are only 3,000 people living here between the three bases, which are quite huge. There are no lines at any businesses and no traffic any where to be seen – quite a change from living in D.C.
The first store we walked into was run by the Spouses’ Association. They run a variety of programs for the wives including, for next month, Japanese wrapping techniques, Christmas parade of homes, Kimono wear, Japanese calligraphy, Japanese language classes, knitting classes, weekend outings. For $15 a year I can be as involved as I want. I signed up for everything I could.
The food court turned out to be pretty awesome – Popeye, Burger King, Subway, Anthony’s, plus two sit down restaurants. The prices were comparable to home, except we don’t pay taxes on the food. YUMMY.
The food stores here are called commissaries. They are full of a variety of American products. The vegetables and fruits leave much to be desired but they had most everything else I usually buy. The prices were super cheap, even less than what you would pay in the States. For example, cereal is around $2, a bag of chips $1.50, can of pop 39 cents. They will order you in anything you need that they don’t have so it’s not like there is anything we are really deprived of. And again, no tax! We’re going to save a ton on groceries.
They didn’t put too much thought into decorating; everything is painted yellow. Each building looks exactly the same and it is easy to get lost. They all have brown signs to label them. If I had to judge this place on creativity they would get a big fat “F”. Good thing the scenery is so beautiful on the outside.
Watching television here is interesting. All the commercials are military made and focused. You can’t help but feel extremely patriotic. We only have 10 channels to choose from. None of them are infomercials, which is the saddest thing ever. I’m totally addicted. The shows are also backwards time wise. For example, we watch ER and Amazing Race in the morning and The View and Good Morning America in the evening.
Nov 17 – Land of the Rising Sun
We’re finally here! Thanks to the worst airline I have ever flown – American Airlines. My TV didn’t work so for 16 hours I just stared at the wall ahead and read my book. They were skimpy on the food. The ripped carpet was especially nice. The stewardess looked like she was going to have a nervous breakdown if I asked for anything. I yearn for the days of Emirates Air and hope to avoid flying American Airlines for the rest of my life.
As the plane taxied in we saw some rather shady looking men dressed in black staring at the plane from an empty field. Right in front of them was a sign that said DOWN WITH NARITA, which happens to be the name of the airport we just flew into. Looks like we got some dedicated haters – charming.
I knew I was in Japan when the immigration attendant marked my papers with a cartoon pen with a Hello Kitty plastic cat hanging off it. She was really sweet and helpful.
I got lost just outside luggage. Jeremy was taking a sliding elevator that went underground and when I went to follow a rough Japanese lady grabbed my sweater and refused to let me follow. I was yelling at her in English; she was raising her voice to me in Japanese. Finally she grabbed my cart – which had two suitcases and the dog on it – and pushed it across the parking lot and into an open space about five minutes away. I had no idea when we would find each other again. By chance we meet up a later in the lobby. Clearly I need to learn how to say – crazy lady, give me my cart back or I will kick you in the shin.
Soon we connected with our Japanese sponsor, Simon. He got us on the military transport for the three-hour drive back to Camp Zama. He filled us in about life at the base, what we should expect and why we’re going to love it. He was also kind enough to stock our hotel room fridge and cupboards with food and drink so we could beat off the jet leg with full stomachs.
The Japanese highways are raised above the city and you look down onto the streets and rooftops of the town below. It almost feels like you are flying in the sky. The clouds/fog hangs low and you expect to almost disappear into the stars. They circle and swerve around and about high in the sky – it’s not for the faint at heart.
At the gate of the base we were met by guards with guns hanging around their necks. It was daunting at first but now it is a comforting site. You have to show your Military ID everywhere: at the gate, every time you buy something, to submit all official documentation, to book flights, even to get a library book. There is no way you can sneak in and expect to get anything done!
Our temporary home on Camp Zama is much like a hotel – one room with a small kitchen. It is very comfortable and clean. We have heard that Japan has large insects everywhere and our room was no exception. We found two hard-shell beetle bugs in the first half an hour. We haven’t seen any since so we just consider them the welcome wagon representatives. They were kind enough to put two kimonos in our room to sleep in. Looks like I have my Halloween costume for next year!
The clocks and television are all programmed to military time, something I don’t get at all. I’ve already had to count it into regular time with my fingers at five times.
There must be a dark side to living on base because there are a ton of commercials about suicide, marital problems and drunk driving. They even post how many days have gone by without one – unfortunately the largest number we saw was 51 days. Wow, that’s a problem. It looks like they need a MADD representative on base; good thing I’m here.
As the plane taxied in we saw some rather shady looking men dressed in black staring at the plane from an empty field. Right in front of them was a sign that said DOWN WITH NARITA, which happens to be the name of the airport we just flew into. Looks like we got some dedicated haters – charming.
I knew I was in Japan when the immigration attendant marked my papers with a cartoon pen with a Hello Kitty plastic cat hanging off it. She was really sweet and helpful.
I got lost just outside luggage. Jeremy was taking a sliding elevator that went underground and when I went to follow a rough Japanese lady grabbed my sweater and refused to let me follow. I was yelling at her in English; she was raising her voice to me in Japanese. Finally she grabbed my cart – which had two suitcases and the dog on it – and pushed it across the parking lot and into an open space about five minutes away. I had no idea when we would find each other again. By chance we meet up a later in the lobby. Clearly I need to learn how to say – crazy lady, give me my cart back or I will kick you in the shin.
Soon we connected with our Japanese sponsor, Simon. He got us on the military transport for the three-hour drive back to Camp Zama. He filled us in about life at the base, what we should expect and why we’re going to love it. He was also kind enough to stock our hotel room fridge and cupboards with food and drink so we could beat off the jet leg with full stomachs.
The Japanese highways are raised above the city and you look down onto the streets and rooftops of the town below. It almost feels like you are flying in the sky. The clouds/fog hangs low and you expect to almost disappear into the stars. They circle and swerve around and about high in the sky – it’s not for the faint at heart.
At the gate of the base we were met by guards with guns hanging around their necks. It was daunting at first but now it is a comforting site. You have to show your Military ID everywhere: at the gate, every time you buy something, to submit all official documentation, to book flights, even to get a library book. There is no way you can sneak in and expect to get anything done!
Our temporary home on Camp Zama is much like a hotel – one room with a small kitchen. It is very comfortable and clean. We have heard that Japan has large insects everywhere and our room was no exception. We found two hard-shell beetle bugs in the first half an hour. We haven’t seen any since so we just consider them the welcome wagon representatives. They were kind enough to put two kimonos in our room to sleep in. Looks like I have my Halloween costume for next year!
The clocks and television are all programmed to military time, something I don’t get at all. I’ve already had to count it into regular time with my fingers at five times.
There must be a dark side to living on base because there are a ton of commercials about suicide, marital problems and drunk driving. They even post how many days have gone by without one – unfortunately the largest number we saw was 51 days. Wow, that’s a problem. It looks like they need a MADD representative on base; good thing I’m here.
Dang Bloated Infected Legs
Right before we left for Japan Jeremy got a staph infection. It ended up delaying us for a few days. Finally he is on the mend. These photos were taken two days after his super large penicillin shot he got in his bum. It could have been cleared up sooner had he taken my advice and went to the doctor instead of trying to wait it out; instead he was in extreme pain for about two weeks. He was totally brave. Here are some photos of his painful experience.
I had the best job ever
I love my job. It breaks my heart that my time there is coming to a close. I thought that it would be fun to write a top ten list of things I will never forget about my experiences.
10. Fashion No-no
I was captured on C-SPAN with white socks and brown shoes. Don’t even get me started on my plaid brown pants. I looked like I was 80.
9. Subway Meltdown
In the middle of the D.C. “floods” I was stuck in the subway for two hours. It wouldn’t have been too bad had I not had an event that I was supposed to record that day. I showed up to work two hours late, totally soaked and crying like a baby. Yep, I would call that unprofessional.
8. Dog Stare Down
Going to record the Iraqi Oil Foreign Minster was a real treat. Not a real treat – the guard dogs. Strangely enough they were labs, which are not really bomb dogs to begin with. First it stared me down and then it started sniffing me where bombs normally aren’t – totally inappropriate.
7. Zip It
Something I should have told my zipper before I walked around my office for half a day. Thanks for telling me everyone!
6. Rebel Yell
Kim, my colleague, and I were at Senator Rockefeller’s house recording an event. I was wearing heels that day, and totally exhausted. We called a taxi at the end of the night to pick us up and started walked down to the end of the laneway to meet it. About half a mile down we saw a taxi that we clearly didn’t call. Needless to say, we got in and stole it. A man ran over to say it was his taxi. Whatever dude – heels over age.
5. What Statue?
The State Capitol in D.C. is amazing. The inside hallways are lined with statues and artifacts behind a rope. However, the rope is about a foot away from the “prized possessions.” While running to make an event I accidentally took a corner too sharp and slammed my audio suitcase right into the base of the one of the end. This maneuver was followed by an extremely loud bang that echoed down the hallway. Before security could get there I high-tailed it out of there. I have no idea if it was broken, but I’m sure they can fix it J.
4. Drama on Tape
It happened at the end of the Middle East Symposium at the Capitol. Most camera crews had left and it was just me and CNN crew closing up the last minute details. They kindly asked if I could clean up in the dark because they needed to set the lighting for one-on-one interviews. There was a little light so I really didn’t mind. A few minutes later I was crawling under the camera with my suitcase on the way to the door. Just as I thought I was in the clear I snagged my suitcase on a chair, which fell over and hit the chair behind it. Like dominos a whole series of chairs went down during the interview. It was so loud they had to stop the taping. Then everyone laughed at me for about 10 minutes. No one helped me pull myself out from under the chairs. Oh, boy. No thanks to you, CNN.
3. I’m Not That Into You
Memo to the key speaker of a military contractor I had the displeasure to record at an event – I’m not that into you. It doesn’t matter if you wink at me from the podium, give me the thumbs up or use catchy phrases like “warheads on foreheads” – I’m married, and you totally freak me out. No, I don’t want you to wait for me by the elevator so we can ride down together. No, I don’t need a ride back to my work. Did I mention NO? The whole world is not that into you. Memo sent.
2. Kick It Good
D.C. is a little crazy when it comes to things like bomb threats. For example, why should I leave the fifth floor of a sturdy building to stand right beside the unknown tiny package on the sidewalk? How does this make sense to anyone? So when security came into my office to say we had to leave right away I think he was a little surprised when I told him I was busy and that he should just kick the package across the street so I could meet my deadline. Of course I was kidding and I left a few minutes later. I don’t think he got the joke.
1. One Big “F”
My favorite moment at my job was when I took the new interview grammar test they give candidates who apply. They were probably going to use it to find a replacement for me. Not only did I fail the casual test my co-worker gave me, but I also failed the bonus question she offered. Good thing I took it on the way out and not the way in.
Seriously, I’m going to miss that place every single day. Much love to 1000 Vermont Ave.
10. Fashion No-no
I was captured on C-SPAN with white socks and brown shoes. Don’t even get me started on my plaid brown pants. I looked like I was 80.
9. Subway Meltdown
In the middle of the D.C. “floods” I was stuck in the subway for two hours. It wouldn’t have been too bad had I not had an event that I was supposed to record that day. I showed up to work two hours late, totally soaked and crying like a baby. Yep, I would call that unprofessional.
8. Dog Stare Down
Going to record the Iraqi Oil Foreign Minster was a real treat. Not a real treat – the guard dogs. Strangely enough they were labs, which are not really bomb dogs to begin with. First it stared me down and then it started sniffing me where bombs normally aren’t – totally inappropriate.
7. Zip It
Something I should have told my zipper before I walked around my office for half a day. Thanks for telling me everyone!
6. Rebel Yell
Kim, my colleague, and I were at Senator Rockefeller’s house recording an event. I was wearing heels that day, and totally exhausted. We called a taxi at the end of the night to pick us up and started walked down to the end of the laneway to meet it. About half a mile down we saw a taxi that we clearly didn’t call. Needless to say, we got in and stole it. A man ran over to say it was his taxi. Whatever dude – heels over age.
5. What Statue?
The State Capitol in D.C. is amazing. The inside hallways are lined with statues and artifacts behind a rope. However, the rope is about a foot away from the “prized possessions.” While running to make an event I accidentally took a corner too sharp and slammed my audio suitcase right into the base of the one of the end. This maneuver was followed by an extremely loud bang that echoed down the hallway. Before security could get there I high-tailed it out of there. I have no idea if it was broken, but I’m sure they can fix it J.
4. Drama on Tape
It happened at the end of the Middle East Symposium at the Capitol. Most camera crews had left and it was just me and CNN crew closing up the last minute details. They kindly asked if I could clean up in the dark because they needed to set the lighting for one-on-one interviews. There was a little light so I really didn’t mind. A few minutes later I was crawling under the camera with my suitcase on the way to the door. Just as I thought I was in the clear I snagged my suitcase on a chair, which fell over and hit the chair behind it. Like dominos a whole series of chairs went down during the interview. It was so loud they had to stop the taping. Then everyone laughed at me for about 10 minutes. No one helped me pull myself out from under the chairs. Oh, boy. No thanks to you, CNN.
3. I’m Not That Into You
Memo to the key speaker of a military contractor I had the displeasure to record at an event – I’m not that into you. It doesn’t matter if you wink at me from the podium, give me the thumbs up or use catchy phrases like “warheads on foreheads” – I’m married, and you totally freak me out. No, I don’t want you to wait for me by the elevator so we can ride down together. No, I don’t need a ride back to my work. Did I mention NO? The whole world is not that into you. Memo sent.
2. Kick It Good
D.C. is a little crazy when it comes to things like bomb threats. For example, why should I leave the fifth floor of a sturdy building to stand right beside the unknown tiny package on the sidewalk? How does this make sense to anyone? So when security came into my office to say we had to leave right away I think he was a little surprised when I told him I was busy and that he should just kick the package across the street so I could meet my deadline. Of course I was kidding and I left a few minutes later. I don’t think he got the joke.
1. One Big “F”
My favorite moment at my job was when I took the new interview grammar test they give candidates who apply. They were probably going to use it to find a replacement for me. Not only did I fail the casual test my co-worker gave me, but I also failed the bonus question she offered. Good thing I took it on the way out and not the way in.
Seriously, I’m going to miss that place every single day. Much love to 1000 Vermont Ave.
You’re Killing me, Bill
I got a unique opportunity to hear Bill Clinton speak at Senator Rockefeller’s house. I went in judgmental and already offended about words he had yet to speak; however it turned out to be an enlightening experience. From the country mansion in the city, here are some notes about what I learned from ex-president Clinton.
I think he is afraid to use President Bush’s name for fear it would make him human. He referred to him as The King constantly, and his party as the oppressors. This showed great immaturity. You don’t have to respect him personally, but respect the office. You were there once too, dude.
He comes across as handsome, charming, personable and human, which is probably why he was a charismatic and believable president. He puts you instantly at easy and is very likeable. It’s almost like he is speaking directly to you, and he really wants to hear what you have to say. He even pauses so that you can take in what he is saying and respond if you feel the need. He is mesmerizing.
He referred to Republicans has ideologues operating with assertion and attack. This seemed rather odd because he spent most of his time bashing others.
He also said Republicans concentrate on wealth and power. Obviously he wasn’t aware we were standing on the yard of one of the richest Americans in the country, eating off of gold plates. Seems like an awful lot of wealth and power rests with the Democrats as well. This was no third-world fundraiser we were attending.
He didn’t mention his wife or her raging campaign, except to say she wouldn’t be there. I thought that was classy that he didn’t use the opportunity to fundraise or promote her. That would have really put me under in the worst way.
Bill mentioned that if he was running for President again he would do so under the platforms of healthcare, alternative fuel and putting more troops in Afghanistan vs. Iraq. That is pretty funny because the issues for getting my vote are transparency/accountability, alternative fuel and global aid commitments. I’m glad to see we have at least something in common
All in all it was a fun experience. Thanks, Bill.
I think he is afraid to use President Bush’s name for fear it would make him human. He referred to him as The King constantly, and his party as the oppressors. This showed great immaturity. You don’t have to respect him personally, but respect the office. You were there once too, dude.
He comes across as handsome, charming, personable and human, which is probably why he was a charismatic and believable president. He puts you instantly at easy and is very likeable. It’s almost like he is speaking directly to you, and he really wants to hear what you have to say. He even pauses so that you can take in what he is saying and respond if you feel the need. He is mesmerizing.
He referred to Republicans has ideologues operating with assertion and attack. This seemed rather odd because he spent most of his time bashing others.
He also said Republicans concentrate on wealth and power. Obviously he wasn’t aware we were standing on the yard of one of the richest Americans in the country, eating off of gold plates. Seems like an awful lot of wealth and power rests with the Democrats as well. This was no third-world fundraiser we were attending.
He didn’t mention his wife or her raging campaign, except to say she wouldn’t be there. I thought that was classy that he didn’t use the opportunity to fundraise or promote her. That would have really put me under in the worst way.
Bill mentioned that if he was running for President again he would do so under the platforms of healthcare, alternative fuel and putting more troops in Afghanistan vs. Iraq. That is pretty funny because the issues for getting my vote are transparency/accountability, alternative fuel and global aid commitments. I’m glad to see we have at least something in common
All in all it was a fun experience. Thanks, Bill.
All I want for Christmas is……
Some people want cars, Gucci bags or vacations. No me; I’m fanatic over the Bic Duo pen. It is a pen and highlighter mixed into one. What more could a person want? The dude who created this is a genius. Check it out below.
Land of the Free, Home of Denise
Welcome your newest citizen, Denise Michelle Robertson. After million years and dollars later I was able to go for my citizenship interview and test. The interview was a snap, the test was a bomb. He even had to nudge me on an answer to put me over the passing edge.
In my defense, they rigged it as hard as possible for me. I thought it would be pick the answer from the list, verbatim in the wording of the study questions and done in a quiet isolated room. Instead it was 10 apply your knowledge questions, free-style vocabulary and done with both Jeremy and the interviewer staring me down from the other side of the test. Not to mention I had jetlag from Africa/Toronto and only a day to study. Talk about pressure.
The ceremony was the same day across the hall. First we had a guest speaker welcome us, then we watched a taped recording from President Bush, followed by a video montage of places in America to the song Proud to be an American. I did notice that they used the pretty side of Niagara Falls in the video, which belong to Canada and not America. I was probably the only person who noticed.
Then it was our turn – we repeated the oath, sang the national anthem and got a handshake/certificate from the government representative.
It was pretty awesome. Now I am a dual-citizen – the best of both worlds. Double the holidays, double the fun. I love you all my Canadian/American counterparts.
In my defense, they rigged it as hard as possible for me. I thought it would be pick the answer from the list, verbatim in the wording of the study questions and done in a quiet isolated room. Instead it was 10 apply your knowledge questions, free-style vocabulary and done with both Jeremy and the interviewer staring me down from the other side of the test. Not to mention I had jetlag from Africa/Toronto and only a day to study. Talk about pressure.
The ceremony was the same day across the hall. First we had a guest speaker welcome us, then we watched a taped recording from President Bush, followed by a video montage of places in America to the song Proud to be an American. I did notice that they used the pretty side of Niagara Falls in the video, which belong to Canada and not America. I was probably the only person who noticed.
Then it was our turn – we repeated the oath, sang the national anthem and got a handshake/certificate from the government representative.
It was pretty awesome. Now I am a dual-citizen – the best of both worlds. Double the holidays, double the fun. I love you all my Canadian/American counterparts.
Amazing Grace -- welcome to the family
Welcome to the newest addition to the Robertson family – Miss Olivia Grace; otherwise known as Gracie. She is a 16-weeks old purebred German Shepherd. Can you say Dog Show? We’re obsessed with dog shows. I’m already looking for tweed vests, pencil skirts and a brisk run – that looks like I’m constipated – to join the dog show circuit. We are so excited. We pick her up from the breeder the day we leave. The first thing we want to do is teach her how to ring a bell by the door when she has to go to the bathroom. Ah, the perfect pooch. This photo was from the breeder’s website; although I’m pretty sure this is not Gracie. I’ll send some photos of her once we get to Japan.
Psalms 46:10
If I could sum up my experience – or lesson learned – in Kenya it would be Psalms 46:10: Be still, and know that I am God. There were so many times when the opportunity to have mini meltdowns presented themselves – lost luggage, seeing the sick and impoverished, the plight of the orphans, the HIV scare, et cetera. Before I would start crying and cursing the world that scripture would come to my mind.
Although the world seems unfair and unjust, Heavenly Father is watching out for each and every person here. He knows them by name. He knows what they need. He knows how to comfort them. He knows how to love them perfectly. He knows what reward awaits them when these challenges are over. He has a plan for them, each and every one of them.
Africa is a place where you could easily lose your faith if you don’t exercise it every day. There are things I saw they may very well haunt me forever; there are things I won’t let myself forget for fear I start taking my blessings for granted. The gospel is alive and well in Kenya. Some say it is because hope is the only thing pressing these people forward.
May we all keep the Nation of Kenya in our thoughts and prayers – they certainly need it.
Although the world seems unfair and unjust, Heavenly Father is watching out for each and every person here. He knows them by name. He knows what they need. He knows how to comfort them. He knows how to love them perfectly. He knows what reward awaits them when these challenges are over. He has a plan for them, each and every one of them.
Africa is a place where you could easily lose your faith if you don’t exercise it every day. There are things I saw they may very well haunt me forever; there are things I won’t let myself forget for fear I start taking my blessings for granted. The gospel is alive and well in Kenya. Some say it is because hope is the only thing pressing these people forward.
May we all keep the Nation of Kenya in our thoughts and prayers – they certainly need it.
10/7 – Goodbye Kenya!
Getting up today was very hard. We didn’t get much sleep and I was a tad bit cranky. We were able to pull it together long enough to get into the city for the last minute details of the party.
Excitement was in the air as we loaded up the supplies and brought them over to the village. We hurried around getting the posters up, dinner ready and the gift bags packed. Before we knew it the villagers in the slum were out in full force and ready for some fun. Luckily the church was kind enough to let us hold the party inside. The children lined up to get their gift packages, and then we said a prayer and everyone was fed. Then the children preformed songs and danced to thank us for the new school. Before the party was done we were able to get all the children together for a few photos.
Lucy gave a very powerful prayer of thanks for our work in getting the school accomplished, and for everyone who donated. The villagers were very happy and more than a few shouted out amen. It was inspirational and touching. I’ll never forget their giggles and smiles as they opened their backpacks and saw all the books, school supplies and uniforms inside. They toured the new school and saw all the posters and desks. They were awe struck, and so grateful. One child even got so excited that he wasn’t able to keep his lunch down.
Although I enjoyed the party I dreaded leaving Kenya. I had to go right from the party to the airport. Lucy pulled me aside to let me know that the taxi had arrived and I was to get my belongings and take off. I managed to hold it together when I said goodbye to Gerald and Lucy; however, I bawled like a baby when I had gave my final hugs to Sally and Tara. I couldn’t have asked for better friends here.
The cab ride was long but my driver was very nice. He owns his own micro-finance company for Christians and told me some pretty impressive stories of lives they have touched here. It’s good to see local Kenyans helping each other.
After getting lost in the airport, and crying through check in, I got on Emirates Air – my favorite airline ever – to go home. When the plane lifted off my journey was over. It’s crazy to think I spent a year preparing for this adventure and now it was over. Don’t worry, Kenya; I’ll be back soon! P.S. – I miss you already!
Excitement was in the air as we loaded up the supplies and brought them over to the village. We hurried around getting the posters up, dinner ready and the gift bags packed. Before we knew it the villagers in the slum were out in full force and ready for some fun. Luckily the church was kind enough to let us hold the party inside. The children lined up to get their gift packages, and then we said a prayer and everyone was fed. Then the children preformed songs and danced to thank us for the new school. Before the party was done we were able to get all the children together for a few photos.
Lucy gave a very powerful prayer of thanks for our work in getting the school accomplished, and for everyone who donated. The villagers were very happy and more than a few shouted out amen. It was inspirational and touching. I’ll never forget their giggles and smiles as they opened their backpacks and saw all the books, school supplies and uniforms inside. They toured the new school and saw all the posters and desks. They were awe struck, and so grateful. One child even got so excited that he wasn’t able to keep his lunch down.
Although I enjoyed the party I dreaded leaving Kenya. I had to go right from the party to the airport. Lucy pulled me aside to let me know that the taxi had arrived and I was to get my belongings and take off. I managed to hold it together when I said goodbye to Gerald and Lucy; however, I bawled like a baby when I had gave my final hugs to Sally and Tara. I couldn’t have asked for better friends here.
The cab ride was long but my driver was very nice. He owns his own micro-finance company for Christians and told me some pretty impressive stories of lives they have touched here. It’s good to see local Kenyans helping each other.
After getting lost in the airport, and crying through check in, I got on Emirates Air – my favorite airline ever – to go home. When the plane lifted off my journey was over. It’s crazy to think I spent a year preparing for this adventure and now it was over. Don’t worry, Kenya; I’ll be back soon! P.S. – I miss you already!
10/6 – Safari in My Mouth
Sally is back. Wow hoo fun! Today she was kind enough to help Tara and I get the last minute supplies in town. We rented a huge van to help us get all the supplies back. It was a relatively easy process, but much had to be done. We wanted to go out for our last night and so we had a deadline. We brought them back to Lucy’s apartment to put the gift packages together later.
We also headed over to the school to check on the progress. It is almost done but needs the finishing touches like doors, windows and decorations. We were hoping to get some posters up and the desks inside but that will have to wait until tomorrow.
None of my credit cards have been working for a few days. I think that the banks cut me off because I kept withdrawing so much cash – for the school – from Africa. They did that when I was in China and I had to call to explain that it really was me and to unblock my accounts. Boo hiss! I have to keep borrowing money from Tara who was kind enough to share her funds. Good thing I made it until today. I have a lot of explaining to do to my local banks.
When I was leaving I took a short cut through the slum with Mary. I slipped in some water garbage and grabbed onto a rail to steady myself. Unfortunately, I sliced my finger on a nail on the railing and it was bleeding quite badly. The first thing I thought of, of course, was HIV. It didn’t help when Mary exclaimed, “Miss, don’t worry; it happens all the time.” Great, just what I need to hear! I frantically called Jeremy to see how much danger I was in. It turns out HIV can only stay alive airborne for a few hours so my chances of getting it from that nail is very unlikely. Dang slum nails!
After that shenanigan we needed some sweet relief. We loved the Java Caf̩ and decided to make that our last lunch in Nariobi. We also hit up Nukamatt photos so that we could get photos developed for us all to share. While the photos were being developed Sally, Tara and I danced around and picked out outfits for each other. We also joked with the staff about eating the animals we saw on safari Рlittle did they know it was only a matter of time.
The ride to dinner was a tad bit scary. There was a festival tonight and there were a pile of drunk people all over the road and driving around us. They were speeding and honking and being royal pains in the behind.
We spent our last night at a famous restaurant called Carnivore, and then we went out dancing. Carnivore is basically a safari in your mouth. We ate everything from camel to ostrich to anything you can find on the vast planes of Kenya. It was totally amazing and surprisingly delicious. They bring out a ton of sauces for you to sample with the different meats and they were great as well. We totally stuffed ourselves. If it’s your birthday they come out with bongos, chant and dance. We saw them perform a few times and I couldn’t believe how great they were.
Now, on to the dance floor we went. Boy did we dance! We danced until about two in the morning. They only placed fast songs, which was awesome. Sally brought back some old dance moves for the 1980s. Tara cranked out the slam jams from the 1990s. I mostly stood around and laughed at them until I cried. The African girls that came with us were amazing dancers. We really let loose and had a ball. I think we all needed it. At one point Sally made some music request; however, the DJ totally ignored them and played whatever he wanted. This led to a hysterical stare dawn and then an anti-dance off. I will remember that night forever.
We also headed over to the school to check on the progress. It is almost done but needs the finishing touches like doors, windows and decorations. We were hoping to get some posters up and the desks inside but that will have to wait until tomorrow.
None of my credit cards have been working for a few days. I think that the banks cut me off because I kept withdrawing so much cash – for the school – from Africa. They did that when I was in China and I had to call to explain that it really was me and to unblock my accounts. Boo hiss! I have to keep borrowing money from Tara who was kind enough to share her funds. Good thing I made it until today. I have a lot of explaining to do to my local banks.
When I was leaving I took a short cut through the slum with Mary. I slipped in some water garbage and grabbed onto a rail to steady myself. Unfortunately, I sliced my finger on a nail on the railing and it was bleeding quite badly. The first thing I thought of, of course, was HIV. It didn’t help when Mary exclaimed, “Miss, don’t worry; it happens all the time.” Great, just what I need to hear! I frantically called Jeremy to see how much danger I was in. It turns out HIV can only stay alive airborne for a few hours so my chances of getting it from that nail is very unlikely. Dang slum nails!
After that shenanigan we needed some sweet relief. We loved the Java Caf̩ and decided to make that our last lunch in Nariobi. We also hit up Nukamatt photos so that we could get photos developed for us all to share. While the photos were being developed Sally, Tara and I danced around and picked out outfits for each other. We also joked with the staff about eating the animals we saw on safari Рlittle did they know it was only a matter of time.
The ride to dinner was a tad bit scary. There was a festival tonight and there were a pile of drunk people all over the road and driving around us. They were speeding and honking and being royal pains in the behind.
We spent our last night at a famous restaurant called Carnivore, and then we went out dancing. Carnivore is basically a safari in your mouth. We ate everything from camel to ostrich to anything you can find on the vast planes of Kenya. It was totally amazing and surprisingly delicious. They bring out a ton of sauces for you to sample with the different meats and they were great as well. We totally stuffed ourselves. If it’s your birthday they come out with bongos, chant and dance. We saw them perform a few times and I couldn’t believe how great they were.
Now, on to the dance floor we went. Boy did we dance! We danced until about two in the morning. They only placed fast songs, which was awesome. Sally brought back some old dance moves for the 1980s. Tara cranked out the slam jams from the 1990s. I mostly stood around and laughed at them until I cried. The African girls that came with us were amazing dancers. We really let loose and had a ball. I think we all needed it. At one point Sally made some music request; however, the DJ totally ignored them and played whatever he wanted. This led to a hysterical stare dawn and then an anti-dance off. I will remember that night forever.
10/5 – Unrequited Love
Sally is here! I love when she comes to hang out with us. She took over my spot at the orphanage with Tara while I helped Lucy buy some last minute foundation items for the school. They had everything under control so I just had to sign on the bottom line, make sure the transports came and the building started to go up. I didn’t want to spend too much time there because we call a commotion wherever we go and there was much to be done. I didn’t want to interfere.
We spent the afternoon with our friend Gerald. He was kind enough to invite us over to meet his family. He is a physical therapist and volunteers with the children at the orphanage. We had a blast eating lunch, touring his village and visiting his sister’s school. During lunch I heard some squeaking under my chair. I asked what it was. Gerald’s brother pulled out a box with three tiny baby kittens inside. They were so adorable. He named the kittens Denise, Sally and Tara after us – not that I asked him to or anything ;) What a perfect day!
The ride home was a little shady. We ended up taking a matatu because they were practically empty and Gerald was with us. However, I think the man who ride insides the matatu and collects the money was totally drunk. Before the end of the trip I had married Tara off. We had a loud and hilarious conversation about men in Nairobi and the experiences we have had here. It turns out we’re worth a lot of cows, which we determined no one here could afford. He got out of the van to let us out. I thought he just wanted to be a gentleman but it turns out he wanted hugs and kisses. Before I knew it he leaned over and slobbered on my shoulder before embracing Tara is a long drawn out hug. Needless to say, I was not impressed. What could you do but laugh?
Before we got to Lucy’s house we stopped by the school. They have made great progress. The walls are up and the cement is almost ready to be poured. It’s nearly dark and they are just getting started. They are so excited that many are prepared to work during the night to help us finish. I am impressed by the willingness of the villagers to help out. It means a lot that they show their appreciation with action.
We spent the afternoon with our friend Gerald. He was kind enough to invite us over to meet his family. He is a physical therapist and volunteers with the children at the orphanage. We had a blast eating lunch, touring his village and visiting his sister’s school. During lunch I heard some squeaking under my chair. I asked what it was. Gerald’s brother pulled out a box with three tiny baby kittens inside. They were so adorable. He named the kittens Denise, Sally and Tara after us – not that I asked him to or anything ;) What a perfect day!
The ride home was a little shady. We ended up taking a matatu because they were practically empty and Gerald was with us. However, I think the man who ride insides the matatu and collects the money was totally drunk. Before the end of the trip I had married Tara off. We had a loud and hilarious conversation about men in Nairobi and the experiences we have had here. It turns out we’re worth a lot of cows, which we determined no one here could afford. He got out of the van to let us out. I thought he just wanted to be a gentleman but it turns out he wanted hugs and kisses. Before I knew it he leaned over and slobbered on my shoulder before embracing Tara is a long drawn out hug. Needless to say, I was not impressed. What could you do but laugh?
Before we got to Lucy’s house we stopped by the school. They have made great progress. The walls are up and the cement is almost ready to be poured. It’s nearly dark and they are just getting started. They are so excited that many are prepared to work during the night to help us finish. I am impressed by the willingness of the villagers to help out. It means a lot that they show their appreciation with action.
10/4 – No More Matatus
We were feeling a little tired this morning and decided to take a personal taxi over a matatu. We were pretty confident they would be crowed and didn’t want to deal with the hassle. This turned out to be a very good decision on our part. Further up the road – about five minutes from our home, on the same route we travel – we came across a matatu that had been hijacked a few minutes earlier. We totally could have been on that matatu. The hijackers had robbed the people abroad but were shot point blank as they left the cab. Their bullet ridden bloody bodies were strewn up beside the ditch for all to see.
We found out later that matatus get hijacked frequently the first few days of the month because that is when everyone gets paid. It would have been nice to have known that earlier. We made a pact not to ride them as much anymore. They are cheaper than cabs but not cheap enough to risk my life over.
Next stop was over to the school to double check the contracts and see that they had started ripped down the buildings on the land that was bought with the donated money. The tiny houses on either side were totally demolished but the actual school was still standing. We took some photos in front of it.
Then we went off to buy supplies. We bought so much that we couldn’t fit it all in the cab and it had to be stored at Lucy’s friends house in the city until later. It’s amazing what you can buy here with even a little amount of money. I’m really starting to see the difference we are making and it feels great!
There wasn’t any electricity in our home when we got back so we went on a walk to use the Internet. It is times like this I wish I had a laptop. Looks like I have something to ask Santa for!
This evening I was really homesick. I missed Jeremy so much I cried myself to sleep. I really wish that he could have come on this adventure. I learned a lot about myself already, and look forward to sharing some of my thoughts with him when I return. I tried to call him on my cell but he wasn’t there. Jeremy, where are you? I miss you!
We found out later that matatus get hijacked frequently the first few days of the month because that is when everyone gets paid. It would have been nice to have known that earlier. We made a pact not to ride them as much anymore. They are cheaper than cabs but not cheap enough to risk my life over.
Next stop was over to the school to double check the contracts and see that they had started ripped down the buildings on the land that was bought with the donated money. The tiny houses on either side were totally demolished but the actual school was still standing. We took some photos in front of it.
Then we went off to buy supplies. We bought so much that we couldn’t fit it all in the cab and it had to be stored at Lucy’s friends house in the city until later. It’s amazing what you can buy here with even a little amount of money. I’m really starting to see the difference we are making and it feels great!
There wasn’t any electricity in our home when we got back so we went on a walk to use the Internet. It is times like this I wish I had a laptop. Looks like I have something to ask Santa for!
This evening I was really homesick. I missed Jeremy so much I cried myself to sleep. I really wish that he could have come on this adventure. I learned a lot about myself already, and look forward to sharing some of my thoughts with him when I return. I tried to call him on my cell but he wasn’t there. Jeremy, where are you? I miss you!
10/3 – Don’t make me swear at you.
Right before we left Dinai our new friend climbed a palm tree to get us fresh coconut milk. It took forever for him to peel back the layers and get the top off but it was worth it. I’ve never had the real thing. We used a section of the outer layer shell as a spoon for the soft coconut; we ended up leaving the hard coconut inside. I normally don’t love coconut but this was wonderful.
Stomachs full, we caught our taxi to go back up to Mombassa. We were happy to be able to use the Internet and spent a good two hours emailing everyone back. We still had an hour or so until we had to be at the train station so we wandered around the city looking at all the mosques. It was fun for a while, but then we noticed that we were a tad bit lost. We were able to get some directions, quicken our step and make it just in time.
The lady in ticketing was a total swear word and wouldn’t put us alone in a room, which is ridiculous because the train was nowhere near full. She was really mean about it and wouldn’t budge. She even gave us a bad look like we were idiots for asking. I love meeting the people of Kenya, but overnight in a small room with people I don’t know isn’t my favorite thing in the world. Plus, I haven’t been feeling well and I was pretty sure I would get train sick.
Luckily we got a great bunkmate that was really awesome. She was a lovely Muslim woman from India currently living in Mombassa. She was in the middle of Ramadan, and was kind enough to answer the questions we had regarding it. She spent some time telling us about Islam, a religion I have been studying for the past year, and I filled her in on Mormonism and Western Christianity. She was well traveled and had a lot of great information for us. I was really happy that she was place with us, even though I still greatly dislike the ticketing lady.
We’re excited to get back to Nairobi. Strangely enough we miss it a ton already.
Stomachs full, we caught our taxi to go back up to Mombassa. We were happy to be able to use the Internet and spent a good two hours emailing everyone back. We still had an hour or so until we had to be at the train station so we wandered around the city looking at all the mosques. It was fun for a while, but then we noticed that we were a tad bit lost. We were able to get some directions, quicken our step and make it just in time.
The lady in ticketing was a total swear word and wouldn’t put us alone in a room, which is ridiculous because the train was nowhere near full. She was really mean about it and wouldn’t budge. She even gave us a bad look like we were idiots for asking. I love meeting the people of Kenya, but overnight in a small room with people I don’t know isn’t my favorite thing in the world. Plus, I haven’t been feeling well and I was pretty sure I would get train sick.
Luckily we got a great bunkmate that was really awesome. She was a lovely Muslim woman from India currently living in Mombassa. She was in the middle of Ramadan, and was kind enough to answer the questions we had regarding it. She spent some time telling us about Islam, a religion I have been studying for the past year, and I filled her in on Mormonism and Western Christianity. She was well traveled and had a lot of great information for us. I was really happy that she was place with us, even though I still greatly dislike the ticketing lady.
We’re excited to get back to Nairobi. Strangely enough we miss it a ton already.
10/2 – Good Riddance
Today we woke up to the best pineapple I have ever eaten. The fruit bicycle guy is my new best friend.
Then we spent the afternoon hiding from the beach boys. Every time we went to the beach they would show up and want to hang out. At first they really didn’t press the issue, but now that most of the other women have “coupled up” they are running out of options and are a little more desperate. The nice security man at our hotel hung out by the fence and yelled at them so we were able to suntan later in the other afternoon. Good riddance.
I was really excited when I found out that there was a Chinese restaurant in Dinai. They seated us on the patio, which was nice, but the moat around the patio smelled like rotten fish. It was so bad I lost my appetite. I shoved in my food as fast as I could and hopped in the van to go home. I’m starting to get homesick for a good meal cooked by my husband. I don’t think I give him enough thanks for months of yumminess. You’re the best, love.
Then we spent the afternoon hiding from the beach boys. Every time we went to the beach they would show up and want to hang out. At first they really didn’t press the issue, but now that most of the other women have “coupled up” they are running out of options and are a little more desperate. The nice security man at our hotel hung out by the fence and yelled at them so we were able to suntan later in the other afternoon. Good riddance.
I was really excited when I found out that there was a Chinese restaurant in Dinai. They seated us on the patio, which was nice, but the moat around the patio smelled like rotten fish. It was so bad I lost my appetite. I shoved in my food as fast as I could and hopped in the van to go home. I’m starting to get homesick for a good meal cooked by my husband. I don’t think I give him enough thanks for months of yumminess. You’re the best, love.
10/1 – Cheeky Monkeys
There is only one rule regarding the monkeys – don’t feed them. So of course I did. Then the innocent monkeys became cheeky monkeys, stalking us and our home. Once they found out we have food, they wanted it. No exceptions. We would pull the curtains back and they would be hanging in front of the window with their little hands out. We would be sitting on the deck and they would rush us to scare us into running away and leaving our food. They would hiss at the cats that we feed faithfully to steal their food. They got to be a little scary.
The hotel lets acrobats come and perform once a week. We were luck enough to catch their show. They were amazing but the audience was horrible. No one here claps so it is really awkward. The children wanted to get involved and basically took over the show. There were only a few of us that offered money in the end. We all know what the Europeans were saving their money for….. just kidding.
Later in the day we went for a walk to the ritzy hotels further down the beach. At one point the beach gives out to the water and a rock wall before continuing. We had two options – go over it or around it. We chose to get in the water and rough it out. All was fine until we got half way through. The water surged up and smashed us against the rock. The jagged stones cut at our feet and hands and we struggled to stay up right and moving forward. I had a series of blood blisters and rocks in my foot, as well as “rock rash” all over my hand. Tara had a huge gash on her leg and cuts on her foot. We were soaking wet. Tara thought it was hilarious and kept laughing. I was totally steamed. I eventually laughed about it, much later.
There were too many “Beach Boys” in that area so we used the Internet and headed back for some quite time on the beach. We were both ready to clear our brains with a Candice Bushnell book and journals. I don’t think we moved for hours.
Later in the day we spent an hour riding camels along the beach. Although our bums were pretty sore it was a load of fun. Right before we got off the camels another man, with a string of camels, came over and started fighting with our leader. I guess he had “called” us and our leader had heart his feelings by helping us out. It got pretty hot and heavy so we crawled off, gave our money and took off to watch from a distance. It only cost about $7, but I guess that is a ton for locals here. I felt bad but what can you do – I had no idea we had been “called.”
Dinner tonight was in a cave near the beach. It was simply gorgeous. They had remodeled one section of it with electricity so huge chandeliers could be hung from the ceiling. Every nook and cranny had a candle in it. There were fresh flowers on the table with more candles. It was totally romantic. Not that I don’t like Tara, but I was missing Jeremy and wished he could have been here. He would have loved this place. I ate a fantastic roast duck in an orange sauce and passion fruit cheesecake. Not cheap, but totally worth it. Tara stole toilet paper from the bathroom, so I guess we got a discount. She was so proud when she pulled it out of her bag. She cracks me up!
The staff here is great, and always willing to show us something new. I would consider myself pretty street smart but all was thrown out the window when a male staffer took Tara and I into the woods to see Bush Babies. It’s probably not the best idea to go trampling in the middle of no where with a man you don’t know in a country you are not familiar. You really have to trust your instincts here and luckily mine were right. There were Bush Babies and they were amazing. They are sort of like raccoon/ferret/cats. They had yellow eyes that glowed in the dark. They loved bananas and ate a pile of them. They got pretty close but wouldn’t eat out of our hands. I wish I could take one home.
The hotel lets acrobats come and perform once a week. We were luck enough to catch their show. They were amazing but the audience was horrible. No one here claps so it is really awkward. The children wanted to get involved and basically took over the show. There were only a few of us that offered money in the end. We all know what the Europeans were saving their money for….. just kidding.
Later in the day we went for a walk to the ritzy hotels further down the beach. At one point the beach gives out to the water and a rock wall before continuing. We had two options – go over it or around it. We chose to get in the water and rough it out. All was fine until we got half way through. The water surged up and smashed us against the rock. The jagged stones cut at our feet and hands and we struggled to stay up right and moving forward. I had a series of blood blisters and rocks in my foot, as well as “rock rash” all over my hand. Tara had a huge gash on her leg and cuts on her foot. We were soaking wet. Tara thought it was hilarious and kept laughing. I was totally steamed. I eventually laughed about it, much later.
There were too many “Beach Boys” in that area so we used the Internet and headed back for some quite time on the beach. We were both ready to clear our brains with a Candice Bushnell book and journals. I don’t think we moved for hours.
Later in the day we spent an hour riding camels along the beach. Although our bums were pretty sore it was a load of fun. Right before we got off the camels another man, with a string of camels, came over and started fighting with our leader. I guess he had “called” us and our leader had heart his feelings by helping us out. It got pretty hot and heavy so we crawled off, gave our money and took off to watch from a distance. It only cost about $7, but I guess that is a ton for locals here. I felt bad but what can you do – I had no idea we had been “called.”
Dinner tonight was in a cave near the beach. It was simply gorgeous. They had remodeled one section of it with electricity so huge chandeliers could be hung from the ceiling. Every nook and cranny had a candle in it. There were fresh flowers on the table with more candles. It was totally romantic. Not that I don’t like Tara, but I was missing Jeremy and wished he could have been here. He would have loved this place. I ate a fantastic roast duck in an orange sauce and passion fruit cheesecake. Not cheap, but totally worth it. Tara stole toilet paper from the bathroom, so I guess we got a discount. She was so proud when she pulled it out of her bag. She cracks me up!
The staff here is great, and always willing to show us something new. I would consider myself pretty street smart but all was thrown out the window when a male staffer took Tara and I into the woods to see Bush Babies. It’s probably not the best idea to go trampling in the middle of no where with a man you don’t know in a country you are not familiar. You really have to trust your instincts here and luckily mine were right. There were Bush Babies and they were amazing. They are sort of like raccoon/ferret/cats. They had yellow eyes that glowed in the dark. They loved bananas and ate a pile of them. They got pretty close but wouldn’t eat out of our hands. I wish I could take one home.
09/30 – Tara the Canadian
We woke up to kids screaming on the tracks. They had come out in hopes that we would throw something out to them. They stood dangerously close to the train as it whizzed by, arms wailing, voices carrying up into the window. I threw Oreos as far into the field as I possibly could. At least that got them off the tracks, into safety, for at least a little while.
We got off in Mombassa; a beautiful city that rests along the sea. The city is layered with rich Muslim history, showcasing some of the oldest mosques in Africa. We planned to spend the afternoon here on the way back.
We could hear a man screaming through a megaphone at worshippers for a good hour. We had no idea what he was saying but it didn’t sound like he was very happy. Tara was told as soon as we got off the train that there is a lot of anti-American sentiment here and she was to claim Canada as her homeland should she be asked. I clutched my Canadian passport and was thankful I always have that to fall back on. There have been a few instances where I have been treated better than she had after they found out where we were from. For instance, everyone in Dubai was very nice to me and interested in my country; people were nice to her until they found out where she was from. One man even turned his back on her and abruptly stopped the conversation he had started once he found out she was American. It’s sad, but true.
It was only about an hour taxi ride to Dinai from Mombassa. Our lodging was a cottage, one of about 10, very close to the beach. The cottages are owned and operated by a retired Irish couple that fell in love with Dinai and wanted to make it home full time. They tried to keep the African charm, complete with the cottage staff cutting the grass with machetes. It took him about four hours just to do the small patch in front of our place. Another worker bicycled into town to get us fresh fruit, which he sold at our door. Monkeys hang out in the trees and on the lawn in the front yard. This place is amazing.
After finding out I didn’t have to worry about sharks or pirates – too things I have a huge fear of – I spent the day relaxing on the beach sun tanning and swimming. The Indian Ocean is crystal clear, more beautiful than any other beach I have seen – the palm leaves are a vibrant green, the sand a pure white and the water varying shades or brilliant blues. This is the first time I have truly relaxed since I got to Kenya – fantastic.
I read a lot about prostitution with older European women buying sex from young Kenyan men. It’s a pretty women situation in reverse; they agree on a price and stay with the women in their hotels for the whole week. Women even come with friends and make a whole event out of. I have no idea why this would appeal to anyone. However, we saw it everywhere here. The ladies were always not very attractive, yet always in a bikini and fairly wealthy, wearing tons of jewelry. The men are always quite attractive and very well built, usually fisherman and not well off. It was clear what was going on but no one seemed bothered by it. All I can say is wow – prostitution in action.
Unfortunately, because it is so common, they assumed that we were there for that as well. Anytime we would stroll along the beach we would get propositioned. They never pushed the issue but it was annoying nonetheless. We let the guard know we weren’t interested and he would let them know and make them go away. Thanks but no thanks!
We ate out at a restaurant on the beach called 40 Thieves. It was very pretty. The food was okay but I still had an upset stomach from the curry the night before. It was a really rough night and I didn’t want to push myself.
Right before we left I hit up the bathroom. I had only been in there about 10 seconds when a crab crawled out from behind the toilet and right in front of my foot. Up I went on the seat, virtually held hostage by the angry snapping crab on the ground. I finally worked up my courage and jumped over it and out the stall door. Tara thought it was so funny that she went in to check it out as well. The crab was not afraid of her either. Rebel yell.
We got off in Mombassa; a beautiful city that rests along the sea. The city is layered with rich Muslim history, showcasing some of the oldest mosques in Africa. We planned to spend the afternoon here on the way back.
We could hear a man screaming through a megaphone at worshippers for a good hour. We had no idea what he was saying but it didn’t sound like he was very happy. Tara was told as soon as we got off the train that there is a lot of anti-American sentiment here and she was to claim Canada as her homeland should she be asked. I clutched my Canadian passport and was thankful I always have that to fall back on. There have been a few instances where I have been treated better than she had after they found out where we were from. For instance, everyone in Dubai was very nice to me and interested in my country; people were nice to her until they found out where she was from. One man even turned his back on her and abruptly stopped the conversation he had started once he found out she was American. It’s sad, but true.
It was only about an hour taxi ride to Dinai from Mombassa. Our lodging was a cottage, one of about 10, very close to the beach. The cottages are owned and operated by a retired Irish couple that fell in love with Dinai and wanted to make it home full time. They tried to keep the African charm, complete with the cottage staff cutting the grass with machetes. It took him about four hours just to do the small patch in front of our place. Another worker bicycled into town to get us fresh fruit, which he sold at our door. Monkeys hang out in the trees and on the lawn in the front yard. This place is amazing.
After finding out I didn’t have to worry about sharks or pirates – too things I have a huge fear of – I spent the day relaxing on the beach sun tanning and swimming. The Indian Ocean is crystal clear, more beautiful than any other beach I have seen – the palm leaves are a vibrant green, the sand a pure white and the water varying shades or brilliant blues. This is the first time I have truly relaxed since I got to Kenya – fantastic.
I read a lot about prostitution with older European women buying sex from young Kenyan men. It’s a pretty women situation in reverse; they agree on a price and stay with the women in their hotels for the whole week. Women even come with friends and make a whole event out of. I have no idea why this would appeal to anyone. However, we saw it everywhere here. The ladies were always not very attractive, yet always in a bikini and fairly wealthy, wearing tons of jewelry. The men are always quite attractive and very well built, usually fisherman and not well off. It was clear what was going on but no one seemed bothered by it. All I can say is wow – prostitution in action.
Unfortunately, because it is so common, they assumed that we were there for that as well. Anytime we would stroll along the beach we would get propositioned. They never pushed the issue but it was annoying nonetheless. We let the guard know we weren’t interested and he would let them know and make them go away. Thanks but no thanks!
We ate out at a restaurant on the beach called 40 Thieves. It was very pretty. The food was okay but I still had an upset stomach from the curry the night before. It was a really rough night and I didn’t want to push myself.
Right before we left I hit up the bathroom. I had only been in there about 10 seconds when a crab crawled out from behind the toilet and right in front of my foot. Up I went on the seat, virtually held hostage by the angry snapping crab on the ground. I finally worked up my courage and jumped over it and out the stall door. Tara thought it was so funny that she went in to check it out as well. The crab was not afraid of her either. Rebel yell.
09/29 – Mystery Water
This morning I took off early to meet with the slum chief. He is basically in charge of distributing land, settling disputes and taking bribes. The hour was spent talking in circles. He even appeared to be drunk and slurring at one point. He clearly insinuated that a donation was going to be needed before he was willing to sell us land. There was no way I was getting involved in that shady business. Anyone who is going to put themselves first in this situation is someone I will not negotiate with, especially when there are parents who believe in the Kenya Project and are willing to sell us their land so that their kids can have an education. We were offering more than what the land is worth, and enough for them to purchase and rebuild on their own terms. It’s a win-win for all involved. I left Lucy to hammer out the details with the land owners and I prepared to head to the Muslim Coast for the weekend.
Joel is our new taxi driver, as the other became unreliable. He has a wife and a myriad of girlfriends. That’s just how it is done here. He doesn’t hit on us, which is nice. Marrying a white woman here is the ultimate goal and they don’t try to hide that fact from us. It’s annoying and degrading. When you find someone willing to respect you, especially a taxi driver, you hold on tight. Joel is fantastic.
We rarely go into the city these days without hitting the Nairobi “Dairy Queen.” Today we met a really cool guy there that is serving with the Peace Corp in Kenya. That is something I totally would have loved to do, but they don’t offer that program in Canada. It seems like a really impressive program. He totally recommends it to anyone who is interested.
Everyone here is either really old or really young; there is not much in-between. They don’t really cater for anyone that would need any sort of physical assistance like ramps or escalators. You either have to be young or older and physically fit to have any fun here. You would think that more people my age would be taking advantage of the safaris, mountain hiking, et cetera. I wonder where everyone is going instead. I always approach vacations in terms of what do I have to see before I have kids or get old. Some places, like Kenya, have time limits.
The train station is located across the road from the old US embassy that was bombed in the 1990s. It has been transformed into a beautiful park for anyone who wants a chance to get out of the hustle and bustle of the city. It reminded me of the first time I went to see Ground Zero after 9/11 – eerie and silent, almost peaceful in any other circumstances. Knowing that we would soon be working for the government, it really hits home how wonderful, yet dangerous, this opportunity is. These people were just doing their job and they paid the ultimate price for it. It makes me much more aware that I need to be on guard all the time. Sadly, the world probably won’t get any safer.
Toilets here are pretty scary and the train station is no exception. After a round of gross curry I was forced to find one and use it. The smell alone made me gag, but the curry made me absolutely nauseous. There was no toilet paper to boot. I was holding my breath and on the verge of passing out when I finally made it to cleaner air. I think I lost brain cells in there. I thought China was bad but there is no comparison – squatters here are out of control.
The trains here are really old. They were built during the Colonial period in the early 1920s. I don’t think they have been renovated since. We were put in second class, which basically is a soft sleeper in China – two sets of bunk beds with a table in the middle. They were comfortable but basic.
The train broke down after a minute, and to pass the time a man came out and played a crazy xylophone. Every time we had to wait for anything he came out to crank out a tune. It’s bad enough that it is hot and smelly, you’re not helping. It’s no Kenyan Idol that’s for sure.
Whenever I go on vacations I always bring books about the place or motivating books to inspire me. On this trip I brought Lonely Planet Kenya, The End of Poverty: Economic Possibilities for Our Time and The Book of Mormon. It has been amazing having time to read. I’ve learned so much about how the world works and what role we should play in it.
I went to bed totally happy, but was startled when I woke up soaking wet. Some “mystery water” flew in the window and all over me when we were on a curve in the railroad. The only possibilities are that someone threw water in my window from off the tracks, someone flushed the toilet and it came up from under the train into the window, or someone in a cabin ahead threw water out the window and it went into our cabin. All options are totally gross. There was nothing to do but wipe my face and go back to sleep. Yuck!
Joel is our new taxi driver, as the other became unreliable. He has a wife and a myriad of girlfriends. That’s just how it is done here. He doesn’t hit on us, which is nice. Marrying a white woman here is the ultimate goal and they don’t try to hide that fact from us. It’s annoying and degrading. When you find someone willing to respect you, especially a taxi driver, you hold on tight. Joel is fantastic.
We rarely go into the city these days without hitting the Nairobi “Dairy Queen.” Today we met a really cool guy there that is serving with the Peace Corp in Kenya. That is something I totally would have loved to do, but they don’t offer that program in Canada. It seems like a really impressive program. He totally recommends it to anyone who is interested.
Everyone here is either really old or really young; there is not much in-between. They don’t really cater for anyone that would need any sort of physical assistance like ramps or escalators. You either have to be young or older and physically fit to have any fun here. You would think that more people my age would be taking advantage of the safaris, mountain hiking, et cetera. I wonder where everyone is going instead. I always approach vacations in terms of what do I have to see before I have kids or get old. Some places, like Kenya, have time limits.
The train station is located across the road from the old US embassy that was bombed in the 1990s. It has been transformed into a beautiful park for anyone who wants a chance to get out of the hustle and bustle of the city. It reminded me of the first time I went to see Ground Zero after 9/11 – eerie and silent, almost peaceful in any other circumstances. Knowing that we would soon be working for the government, it really hits home how wonderful, yet dangerous, this opportunity is. These people were just doing their job and they paid the ultimate price for it. It makes me much more aware that I need to be on guard all the time. Sadly, the world probably won’t get any safer.
Toilets here are pretty scary and the train station is no exception. After a round of gross curry I was forced to find one and use it. The smell alone made me gag, but the curry made me absolutely nauseous. There was no toilet paper to boot. I was holding my breath and on the verge of passing out when I finally made it to cleaner air. I think I lost brain cells in there. I thought China was bad but there is no comparison – squatters here are out of control.
The trains here are really old. They were built during the Colonial period in the early 1920s. I don’t think they have been renovated since. We were put in second class, which basically is a soft sleeper in China – two sets of bunk beds with a table in the middle. They were comfortable but basic.
The train broke down after a minute, and to pass the time a man came out and played a crazy xylophone. Every time we had to wait for anything he came out to crank out a tune. It’s bad enough that it is hot and smelly, you’re not helping. It’s no Kenyan Idol that’s for sure.
Whenever I go on vacations I always bring books about the place or motivating books to inspire me. On this trip I brought Lonely Planet Kenya, The End of Poverty: Economic Possibilities for Our Time and The Book of Mormon. It has been amazing having time to read. I’ve learned so much about how the world works and what role we should play in it.
I went to bed totally happy, but was startled when I woke up soaking wet. Some “mystery water” flew in the window and all over me when we were on a curve in the railroad. The only possibilities are that someone threw water in my window from off the tracks, someone flushed the toilet and it came up from under the train into the window, or someone in a cabin ahead threw water out the window and it went into our cabin. All options are totally gross. There was nothing to do but wipe my face and go back to sleep. Yuck!
09/28 – Grease Lightening
As promised, we ate last night’s dinner for breakfast. Out comes the African George Forman and in goes the green pea pods. Some of the beans were still hard and it hurt to bite into them, others were mush and browning. It was horrendous and nauseating – clearly the best meal yet
Moses, Moses, Moses. It’s a good thing you’re one of my favorites or else I would seriously have issues with you. Thanks for not peeing on me today; it was quite the step forward. The step back was when you puked in my mouth. I can’t wait to get your chest infection. Thirty days of diarrhea just isn’t enough of an African experience for me.
After the morning with the children, I went over to have a sit down meeting with the teacher. We went over the needs and wants, what they were able to purchase on their own from donations and what would be impossible without our help. It was apparent they needed most everything, including a new school. Lucy seemed to have a good idea of where we could start the initial shopping so we didn’t waste any time.
It turns out the only way to get ahead here is to use methods that are considered, to us, illegal or inappropriate. For example, getting the uniforms made in “sweatshops.” I didn’t see any kids, but I also didn’t see any labor laws or employee courtesies in affect either. There wasn’t any other option so we had to purchase there. I felt so bad that I kept tipping and handing out treats. They also only sell one book in the bookstore so you’re forced to make photocopies of the one book. Before I could do anything about it they ripped off the cover and started. They seemed puzzled and frustrated when I kept trying to explain that I wanted to pay for the other ones and this was not necessary. They kept saying – we only have ONE book. What can you do? I guess when in Rome…..
We were brought into a scary, sketchy part of Nairobi to make these purchases. This is the part we were warned not to venture except with people who are familiar with the area. People were coming out in droves to see us; we were a rarity in that neighborhood. We would see people following along down parallel roads and starting when we would come into view at intersections. We stopped for photos whenever we had a chance, including for two women selling fruit on the street. I wouldn’t have been nervous but I, as well as Tara and Lucy, were caring hundred of dollars worth of supplies. We were targets for multiple reasons at that point. At one point Tara exclaimed, “my Lord” calling upon him for help as we entered yet another alley. This made us all hysterical, especially since she is the least religious amongst us. It just goes to show the conditions we were in.
There was nothing to do but make more of a spectacle, which we did to the tune of Grease Lightening blaring out of a building nearby. I’m pretty sure they haven’t seen the movie so we looked pretty ridiculous showing off our disco moves. Dang we were good!
Even though we have the donation money, we couldn’t have bought nearly the amount we did without the expert advice and research from Lucy. She deserved a treat, as she had done everything for nothing. All she wanted was a $1 fish at a local Kenyan restaurant. I try to avoid the local restaurants like the plague so we just had Coke while she dug in. The fish was huge and there was no way she could finish it so I started stealing pieces off it and feeding them to a scrawny cat hovering near by. The cat was loving it until the owner came over and gave it the smash down. It ran away screaming and I felt responsible. Note to self, feeding cats in Kenya is serious business.
The “bunk beds” they created for us were really two single beds held together with a few well placed nails. They shook and lurched every time Tara would roll over. I thought for sure I wouldn’t make it home without the top one caving down on me so I wasn’t surprised, but totally scared, when I heard a loud bang and the side hurtling down at me. Luckily it was hinged on and didn’t come all the way crashing down. Who knew sleeping could be so dangerous?
Moses, Moses, Moses. It’s a good thing you’re one of my favorites or else I would seriously have issues with you. Thanks for not peeing on me today; it was quite the step forward. The step back was when you puked in my mouth. I can’t wait to get your chest infection. Thirty days of diarrhea just isn’t enough of an African experience for me.
After the morning with the children, I went over to have a sit down meeting with the teacher. We went over the needs and wants, what they were able to purchase on their own from donations and what would be impossible without our help. It was apparent they needed most everything, including a new school. Lucy seemed to have a good idea of where we could start the initial shopping so we didn’t waste any time.
It turns out the only way to get ahead here is to use methods that are considered, to us, illegal or inappropriate. For example, getting the uniforms made in “sweatshops.” I didn’t see any kids, but I also didn’t see any labor laws or employee courtesies in affect either. There wasn’t any other option so we had to purchase there. I felt so bad that I kept tipping and handing out treats. They also only sell one book in the bookstore so you’re forced to make photocopies of the one book. Before I could do anything about it they ripped off the cover and started. They seemed puzzled and frustrated when I kept trying to explain that I wanted to pay for the other ones and this was not necessary. They kept saying – we only have ONE book. What can you do? I guess when in Rome…..
We were brought into a scary, sketchy part of Nairobi to make these purchases. This is the part we were warned not to venture except with people who are familiar with the area. People were coming out in droves to see us; we were a rarity in that neighborhood. We would see people following along down parallel roads and starting when we would come into view at intersections. We stopped for photos whenever we had a chance, including for two women selling fruit on the street. I wouldn’t have been nervous but I, as well as Tara and Lucy, were caring hundred of dollars worth of supplies. We were targets for multiple reasons at that point. At one point Tara exclaimed, “my Lord” calling upon him for help as we entered yet another alley. This made us all hysterical, especially since she is the least religious amongst us. It just goes to show the conditions we were in.
There was nothing to do but make more of a spectacle, which we did to the tune of Grease Lightening blaring out of a building nearby. I’m pretty sure they haven’t seen the movie so we looked pretty ridiculous showing off our disco moves. Dang we were good!
Even though we have the donation money, we couldn’t have bought nearly the amount we did without the expert advice and research from Lucy. She deserved a treat, as she had done everything for nothing. All she wanted was a $1 fish at a local Kenyan restaurant. I try to avoid the local restaurants like the plague so we just had Coke while she dug in. The fish was huge and there was no way she could finish it so I started stealing pieces off it and feeding them to a scrawny cat hovering near by. The cat was loving it until the owner came over and gave it the smash down. It ran away screaming and I felt responsible. Note to self, feeding cats in Kenya is serious business.
The “bunk beds” they created for us were really two single beds held together with a few well placed nails. They shook and lurched every time Tara would roll over. I thought for sure I wouldn’t make it home without the top one caving down on me so I wasn’t surprised, but totally scared, when I heard a loud bang and the side hurtling down at me. Luckily it was hinged on and didn’t come all the way crashing down. Who knew sleeping could be so dangerous?
09/27 – You Don’t Need a Jet, Benny
Oh, Moses. I thought we worked out our “problems” yesterday. And yet, you tried again. Had I not been so quick on my hand shield I would have needed another bath this morning. I know you’re hilarious, but it’s not needed. Thanks for keeping your pee to yourself hence further.
I should really give Moses a break. We found out he is suffering from a chest infection. He has bigger concerns than peeing on me. Baracca also has a chest infection and malaria.
Everyone is sick. This led me to have a mini breakdown this morning. I walked into the room and everyone was crying, arms in the air, wanting love and comfort. Clearly I couldn’t decide who was hurting the most. It was depressing and heartbreaking. All I could do was sit on the chair and cry myself. It seems selfish, but I really wanted my mom. After about a minute I was able to gather myself together and start my job. I would like to say the tears stopped but they didn’t. It was a cry-off and today I was winning.
Televangelists are all the rage here. One that really steams me up is named Benny; he cures people by touching them on the head and having them fall over. Even though he makes a fortune working and living in America, he needs impoverished people to each send a dollar so he can buy a jet to heal more people in quicker. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME. Sally calls the whole scenario Benny and the Jet, which makes me laugh no matter how many times she says it. She also refers to our whole vacation as bacteria boot camp. She seriously is the funniest person I have ever met.
Today my bra broke. I was stupid enough to only bring one so this was a huge issue. I was able to keep it together with some elastics and metal. I’m not going to lie; it didn’t feel or look too pretty. Good thing there isn’t a fashion show at the end of this vacation.
The school I was in the slum has been driving me nuts. I figure there has to be something I can do to help. Today I went over to evaluate their needs and see what kind of financial commitment it would be to make a difference there. I tried to stay in the shadows to see them in their natural environment. I knew that as soon as they saw us they would put on a show. They love to sing and dance for visitors, something I love, but it wouldn’t help us at the moment. They seem to need everything. I made some notes and set up an appointment to meet with the head teacher tomorrow.
For a little fun, Andy, Justin, Sally, Tara and I headed down to Safari Park for some American cuisine and a boatload of fun. Those guys are hilarious and always a joy to be around, especially when Justin puts on lipstick – it’s a long story. Andy is conservative and Justin likes to party. They are like the Odd Couple roommates but get along great. I think it is grand are staying six months to making a difference here. We all shared a ton of laughs. It felt nice to be out with other foreigners sharing our experiences, concerns and successes.
Tara, Sally and I are spending more and more time together. They really have been a defining part of me loving this place. It’s meeting people like this that make volunteering an absolute joy. I’ll be sad to leave them at the end of this adventure.
On the way home a kid jumped out at me from the dark and I nearly crapped my pants. I almost punched him in the face. Instead I screamed extremely loud and ran. Who does that?
It turns out we missed dinner and Lucy was pretty ticked at us. At first we got the silent treatment and then we got a huge lecture about wasting food. I promised her that we would eat it for breakfast and it wouldn’t go to waste. I got “the look” from her. I don’t think we’ve heard the end of this.
I should really give Moses a break. We found out he is suffering from a chest infection. He has bigger concerns than peeing on me. Baracca also has a chest infection and malaria.
Everyone is sick. This led me to have a mini breakdown this morning. I walked into the room and everyone was crying, arms in the air, wanting love and comfort. Clearly I couldn’t decide who was hurting the most. It was depressing and heartbreaking. All I could do was sit on the chair and cry myself. It seems selfish, but I really wanted my mom. After about a minute I was able to gather myself together and start my job. I would like to say the tears stopped but they didn’t. It was a cry-off and today I was winning.
Televangelists are all the rage here. One that really steams me up is named Benny; he cures people by touching them on the head and having them fall over. Even though he makes a fortune working and living in America, he needs impoverished people to each send a dollar so he can buy a jet to heal more people in quicker. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME. Sally calls the whole scenario Benny and the Jet, which makes me laugh no matter how many times she says it. She also refers to our whole vacation as bacteria boot camp. She seriously is the funniest person I have ever met.
Today my bra broke. I was stupid enough to only bring one so this was a huge issue. I was able to keep it together with some elastics and metal. I’m not going to lie; it didn’t feel or look too pretty. Good thing there isn’t a fashion show at the end of this vacation.
The school I was in the slum has been driving me nuts. I figure there has to be something I can do to help. Today I went over to evaluate their needs and see what kind of financial commitment it would be to make a difference there. I tried to stay in the shadows to see them in their natural environment. I knew that as soon as they saw us they would put on a show. They love to sing and dance for visitors, something I love, but it wouldn’t help us at the moment. They seem to need everything. I made some notes and set up an appointment to meet with the head teacher tomorrow.
For a little fun, Andy, Justin, Sally, Tara and I headed down to Safari Park for some American cuisine and a boatload of fun. Those guys are hilarious and always a joy to be around, especially when Justin puts on lipstick – it’s a long story. Andy is conservative and Justin likes to party. They are like the Odd Couple roommates but get along great. I think it is grand are staying six months to making a difference here. We all shared a ton of laughs. It felt nice to be out with other foreigners sharing our experiences, concerns and successes.
Tara, Sally and I are spending more and more time together. They really have been a defining part of me loving this place. It’s meeting people like this that make volunteering an absolute joy. I’ll be sad to leave them at the end of this adventure.
On the way home a kid jumped out at me from the dark and I nearly crapped my pants. I almost punched him in the face. Instead I screamed extremely loud and ran. Who does that?
It turns out we missed dinner and Lucy was pretty ticked at us. At first we got the silent treatment and then we got a huge lecture about wasting food. I promised her that we would eat it for breakfast and it wouldn’t go to waste. I got “the look” from her. I don’t think we’ve heard the end of this.
09/26 – I Didn’t Need a Facial
I’ll be the first to admit I know nothing about changing baby boys. I learned a lot by trial and error. One of the trials was learning that baby boys like to pee as soon as you remove their diaper. I thought Moses and I were doing just fine until he gave me a facial with some unknown liquid south of the border. Needless to say, I washed my face, wiped my eyes and brushed my teeth ten-times this morning.
It seems like every child in this place has gotten sick over night. It’s a coordinated melody of coughing, crying and sneezing. You feel so small and useless in situations like this. There is nothing I can do to make them happy, and even less to make them well. I was ready to leave when my shift was over.
Right as we were about to leave a new baby was brought in. He didn’t have much of a background story. I would guess that he was about a month old. He seemed to be healthy, but very, very tiny. The orphanage named him gift. That he was.
The Massai Market runs every Tuesday and Saturday. It’s a large flea-market type event with souvenirs galore. The best way to get there was by matatu, so Tara and I got on and off we went.
The ride seemed to be fine until we pulled into a matatu stop and right into a huge fight that had just started. The driver was relentless and piled into two men in a heated debate, pushing them almost over and nearly onto the hood of the van. Tara and I were sitting in the front seats beside the driver totally stunned and scared. A second man came to the side door and began to pry it open. I was holding the door shut with all my might silently praying for muscles. Unfortunately the window was down and he was able to reach in and get a better hold.
It turns out that he was trying to get us out of the situation, across the road and onto another matatu. I thought he was going to punch me in the face and rob us. Good thing there are decent, honest people in the world; I guess I forgot that was possible during that moment.
We ended up at Kenya’s version of Dairy Queen and Pizza Hut. Needless to say, we were ready to sit down, laugh out load and stuff our faces with some good eats – shopping could come later.
We did end up shopping, piling our arms full of paintings, carvings, statues, scarves, table runners, et cetera. The prices are amazing and I got most of our Christmas shopping out of the way.
We got a new taxi driver on the way home because George was busy. Robert was nice too, but he was thoroughly convinced that he needed a second wife and Tara was it. Before he could seal the deal she made it home sans lifetime commitment. Only in Kenya.
It seems like every child in this place has gotten sick over night. It’s a coordinated melody of coughing, crying and sneezing. You feel so small and useless in situations like this. There is nothing I can do to make them happy, and even less to make them well. I was ready to leave when my shift was over.
Right as we were about to leave a new baby was brought in. He didn’t have much of a background story. I would guess that he was about a month old. He seemed to be healthy, but very, very tiny. The orphanage named him gift. That he was.
The Massai Market runs every Tuesday and Saturday. It’s a large flea-market type event with souvenirs galore. The best way to get there was by matatu, so Tara and I got on and off we went.
The ride seemed to be fine until we pulled into a matatu stop and right into a huge fight that had just started. The driver was relentless and piled into two men in a heated debate, pushing them almost over and nearly onto the hood of the van. Tara and I were sitting in the front seats beside the driver totally stunned and scared. A second man came to the side door and began to pry it open. I was holding the door shut with all my might silently praying for muscles. Unfortunately the window was down and he was able to reach in and get a better hold.
It turns out that he was trying to get us out of the situation, across the road and onto another matatu. I thought he was going to punch me in the face and rob us. Good thing there are decent, honest people in the world; I guess I forgot that was possible during that moment.
We ended up at Kenya’s version of Dairy Queen and Pizza Hut. Needless to say, we were ready to sit down, laugh out load and stuff our faces with some good eats – shopping could come later.
We did end up shopping, piling our arms full of paintings, carvings, statues, scarves, table runners, et cetera. The prices are amazing and I got most of our Christmas shopping out of the way.
We got a new taxi driver on the way home because George was busy. Robert was nice too, but he was thoroughly convinced that he needed a second wife and Tara was it. Before he could seal the deal she made it home sans lifetime commitment. Only in Kenya.
09/25 – Who is Dirty Now?
Today started on a sad note – Phoebe, our maid, left without saying goodbye. We really adored her. I was looking forward to spoiling her before I left. She loves Oreos and I snuck them too her almost every day. On top of that my laundry is piling over and I fear having to do it myself again.
Lucy keeps telling me that I needed to wash my feet better. I couldn’t see why when every time I walked outside in my flip flops they immediately got dirty again. There is NO way to stay clean here – it’s dusty, and dirty 24/7. Clearly a lost cause for all involved. Finally she broke down and told me that the local Kenyans who live in the neighborhood were making fun of me because my feet were always so dirty. They call me the dirty American and say that I don’t need to wear shoes because my feet look like dirty stones. Lucy even bought me a special foot cleaning tool to encourage me to be hygienic. While isn’t that grand. People who live in houses made of animal crap are calling me unsanitary! I’ll show them dirty.
Sally, Tara and I took the day off from the orphanage to go downtown and meet up with the other volunteers. They found some American restaurants we were dying to try.
We took a matatu into the city but then tried to find a taxi to take us the rest of the way. The way to win the transportation game in Kenya is to find a taxi driver that is willing to be loyal to you and you have it made. That’s when we met George. We got a fair “white” price for the ride, and he was highly amusing to boot. We had a blast getting to our location. Unfortunately, he dropped us off at the wrong place. We were over two hours late at that point.
Figuring that everyone had already left us, we spent some time on the high-speed Internets found in the ex-pat neighborhood. We also got to shop in some Western-owned stores. I found a really beautiful Tribal mask that was carved in the Congo and found in Kenya. Sally bought the most amazing Massai art that I have seen.
We ended up having to walk about half-an-hour down the road to meet up with everyone else. But it was worth it; ten minutes later we were eating ice-cream and cake at the Java Café. It was amazing. It wasn’t much later that we called George to come and get us.
We are always tired and in bed very early. Even with the sugar rush, tonight was no exception. I have no idea what makes me so exhausted. I guessing it’s a combination of the time change and sensory overload. I look forward to climbing into my comfy bed back home…
Lucy keeps telling me that I needed to wash my feet better. I couldn’t see why when every time I walked outside in my flip flops they immediately got dirty again. There is NO way to stay clean here – it’s dusty, and dirty 24/7. Clearly a lost cause for all involved. Finally she broke down and told me that the local Kenyans who live in the neighborhood were making fun of me because my feet were always so dirty. They call me the dirty American and say that I don’t need to wear shoes because my feet look like dirty stones. Lucy even bought me a special foot cleaning tool to encourage me to be hygienic. While isn’t that grand. People who live in houses made of animal crap are calling me unsanitary! I’ll show them dirty.
Sally, Tara and I took the day off from the orphanage to go downtown and meet up with the other volunteers. They found some American restaurants we were dying to try.
We took a matatu into the city but then tried to find a taxi to take us the rest of the way. The way to win the transportation game in Kenya is to find a taxi driver that is willing to be loyal to you and you have it made. That’s when we met George. We got a fair “white” price for the ride, and he was highly amusing to boot. We had a blast getting to our location. Unfortunately, he dropped us off at the wrong place. We were over two hours late at that point.
Figuring that everyone had already left us, we spent some time on the high-speed Internets found in the ex-pat neighborhood. We also got to shop in some Western-owned stores. I found a really beautiful Tribal mask that was carved in the Congo and found in Kenya. Sally bought the most amazing Massai art that I have seen.
We ended up having to walk about half-an-hour down the road to meet up with everyone else. But it was worth it; ten minutes later we were eating ice-cream and cake at the Java Café. It was amazing. It wasn’t much later that we called George to come and get us.
We are always tired and in bed very early. Even with the sugar rush, tonight was no exception. I have no idea what makes me so exhausted. I guessing it’s a combination of the time change and sensory overload. I look forward to climbing into my comfy bed back home…
09/24 – Russian Roulette Photography
We started back to Nairobi today after breakfast. The ride seemed much quicker; although, I am sure it would have been even faster had we drove on the road and not in the ditch. I guess we paid for a safari so they didn't want to disappoint. I totally am in need of a chiropractor to solve the jarred-spine-in-the-back-of-a-cramped van syndrome that this trip has spurred.
Being an ex-pat here would be a challenge. We saw their homes on the outskirts of Nairobi on the way back into the city. They were mansions looming in the horizon that couldn’t be overlooked. I understand why they were created – cheap labor, land costs next to nothing, incentive to come live here, et cetera. However, I can’t help but think how insensitive that is when people here are literally struggling to survive with next to nothing. I can’t help but think that this blatant extravagance must foster some sense of resentment and anger amongst the locals. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think the ex-pats are to blame, they don’t pick where they live, but I couldn’t do it.
About 10 minutes from home we came across a huge mass of people and vehicles spread all over the main road. It looked like we were about to go past a huge accident. Like normal, we saw some bodies riddled with bullets on the road, cops with guns and people standing staring. Through the grapevine we learned that some known thieves were spotted on a matatu (taxi van) and a police officer was forced to open fire, shooting point blank, while others sat stunned.
At the start of the year thieves and police were working together, allegedly, spotting possible targets in the van at road blocks and alerting thieves to get onboard and work their magic a little further down the road. About a month before we got there the thieves got into a dispute with the police and killed two officers. After that the police have been retaliating without mercy, dragging known thieves off matatus and shooting them execution style on the side of the highway to stand as an example for all who see them.
Kenyans don’t fear death. They talk about it as though it were an everyday occurrence for us as well. I’m not used to seeing death up-close, and I don’t think it’s something I can get used to. I have now seen more dead bodies live and in person than I have in my whole life, including at funeral homes. It’s shocking and disheartening, yet I feel myself growing stronger through these experiences. I certainly won’t forget how fragile life is.
Sally, another volunteer, is spending the day with us at the Cyber Cafe. It takes forever to respond to emails and even more time to blog. You literally have to square away two hours to get anything accomplished. Sorry if I don't get back to you but this is totally why. It is great getting emails from you and I look forward to that. Thanks for your support! On the way here we decided to take a shortcut through the slums. I have no idea why I thought it would be better to walk in human feces versus walking ten extra minutes to bypass it, but I did. We were stopped half way through by a man who claimed that the reason Kenyans love foreigners is because we give great "donations" and he would be willing to take one from us. I look forward to being seen as a person and not as a bank machine anymore. Unfortunately, I have run into that problem with a lady in the program. She will conveniently forget to bring money to the internet cafe or borrow money that she has no intent to pay back. I understand that I have money and that a dollar here and there is not going to break the bank, but the principal of the issue is that you don't treat people like an ATM. I was planning on leaving her a thank you present but I figure she has already received it inadvertently. You really have to be on your guard here with everyone, which is too bad because there really are some wonderful people here.
Everything in Kenya is relative. For example, that hotel is pretty good, for Kenya. This food is awesome, for Kenya. At home both things would be less than desirable, but here they are like heaven. We begin to think in relative terms for nearly everything.
I fear getting my pictures developed because Kenyans take bad photos. I have point-and-click camera so I can’t delete, or see, the pictures they were kind enough to take. Even after 10 this-is-how-you-do-it lessons they still don’t get it. They love to put their fingers over the lens or the flash. They also like to not look through the picture finder, instead holding the camera at arms length away and guessing if we’re in focus and centered. It’s like photo Russian roulette. I fear I’ll lose.
Being an ex-pat here would be a challenge. We saw their homes on the outskirts of Nairobi on the way back into the city. They were mansions looming in the horizon that couldn’t be overlooked. I understand why they were created – cheap labor, land costs next to nothing, incentive to come live here, et cetera. However, I can’t help but think how insensitive that is when people here are literally struggling to survive with next to nothing. I can’t help but think that this blatant extravagance must foster some sense of resentment and anger amongst the locals. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think the ex-pats are to blame, they don’t pick where they live, but I couldn’t do it.
About 10 minutes from home we came across a huge mass of people and vehicles spread all over the main road. It looked like we were about to go past a huge accident. Like normal, we saw some bodies riddled with bullets on the road, cops with guns and people standing staring. Through the grapevine we learned that some known thieves were spotted on a matatu (taxi van) and a police officer was forced to open fire, shooting point blank, while others sat stunned.
At the start of the year thieves and police were working together, allegedly, spotting possible targets in the van at road blocks and alerting thieves to get onboard and work their magic a little further down the road. About a month before we got there the thieves got into a dispute with the police and killed two officers. After that the police have been retaliating without mercy, dragging known thieves off matatus and shooting them execution style on the side of the highway to stand as an example for all who see them.
Kenyans don’t fear death. They talk about it as though it were an everyday occurrence for us as well. I’m not used to seeing death up-close, and I don’t think it’s something I can get used to. I have now seen more dead bodies live and in person than I have in my whole life, including at funeral homes. It’s shocking and disheartening, yet I feel myself growing stronger through these experiences. I certainly won’t forget how fragile life is.
Sally, another volunteer, is spending the day with us at the Cyber Cafe. It takes forever to respond to emails and even more time to blog. You literally have to square away two hours to get anything accomplished. Sorry if I don't get back to you but this is totally why. It is great getting emails from you and I look forward to that. Thanks for your support! On the way here we decided to take a shortcut through the slums. I have no idea why I thought it would be better to walk in human feces versus walking ten extra minutes to bypass it, but I did. We were stopped half way through by a man who claimed that the reason Kenyans love foreigners is because we give great "donations" and he would be willing to take one from us. I look forward to being seen as a person and not as a bank machine anymore. Unfortunately, I have run into that problem with a lady in the program. She will conveniently forget to bring money to the internet cafe or borrow money that she has no intent to pay back. I understand that I have money and that a dollar here and there is not going to break the bank, but the principal of the issue is that you don't treat people like an ATM. I was planning on leaving her a thank you present but I figure she has already received it inadvertently. You really have to be on your guard here with everyone, which is too bad because there really are some wonderful people here.
Everything in Kenya is relative. For example, that hotel is pretty good, for Kenya. This food is awesome, for Kenya. At home both things would be less than desirable, but here they are like heaven. We begin to think in relative terms for nearly everything.
I fear getting my pictures developed because Kenyans take bad photos. I have point-and-click camera so I can’t delete, or see, the pictures they were kind enough to take. Even after 10 this-is-how-you-do-it lessons they still don’t get it. They love to put their fingers over the lens or the flash. They also like to not look through the picture finder, instead holding the camera at arms length away and guessing if we’re in focus and centered. It’s like photo Russian roulette. I fear I’ll lose.
9/23 – Sweet United Justice
We started the safari today without the Canadian girls. The three ladies were feeling sick and couldn’t hack the whole day in the van. I don’t blame them at all – I’ve been there and done that. Luckily they are booked for another safari in Tanzania before they go back to the T-Dot.
The Massai women attack the van every time we enter and exit the safari park. They hoard around with their crafts and demand prices for things we didn’t even request. It is daunting and makes me feel utterly claustrophobic. I find myself buying things to get them to retreat. We both win at that point, I guess.
We saw the same animals as yesterday, plus some impalas, warthogs, hyenas, and baboons. Bonus round – we also came across the wildebeest/zebra migrations. It was like a milky way of wild animals stretching into the distance. Driving through them was nuts. They would run straight at us and then veer to the right or left at the last minute. It was like a super scary game of chicken. Needless to say, I was the chicken.
About half way through the day we got stuck in a big mud hole - A perfect spot for a lion attack. It didn’t help that a crazy cricket hopped in the van and I used that moment to hop out of the van and wait patiently for the bug to leave. The nice African driver kept saying, “I can’t protect you outside of the van, please lady come inside.” Only I would take the lion over the cricket.
One of my favorite people from GVN is Sally, the celebrity masseuse. Whenever things would get boring she would entertain us with stories from high school. She loved to join rallies, protests or anything where she could yell “unite” or “justice.” She is a hardcore Democrat and we love to banter about nearly everything. Every once and a while we will find something to agree upon – “unite!” That girl cracks me up.
One of the craziest animals we saw was a dik dik. It is a very small deer/cow that clearly is not very bright. For the rest of the trip if something bad happened one of us would yell out “son of a dik dik” and everyone would crack up for the next five minutes. The stupidest things are instantly hilarious out here. Don’t even get me started on the domestic pigmy lion cat we discovered.
At end of the safari we came along a hotel called Fig Tree Camp, which was a series of luxury suite tents on the end of the safari. They were beautiful and I was mad jealous we weren't there. Between Fig Tree Camp and Safari Park Lodge you really can do Kenya in luxury if you have the money. It would be great to do when Jeremy and I got older, or if we won the lottery. There is a surprising amount of elderlies here rocking out and this is how they are surviving. There is even a 75-year-old woman here with her sons. Rebel yell!
The day ended in a very unique and impressive way; we got to spend the evening in a traditional Massai tribe. These are the same people that refuse to have their picture taken and yet we were invited into their homes to learn about their culture. They live in shelters that are made of dried cow feces and branches. They smell really bad and look very unstable. The whole tribe is surrounded by a branch fence to keep out the wild animals. They herd cows for survival and they sleep inside the fence amongst the houses during the night. The whole village is covered in cow “deposits.” They only consume beef, milk and blood for food and drink. This place is intense. I can’t believe people can survive in those conditions. They are incredibly strong and very intimidating.
Just as we were leaving I saw a glittering ring on the tribal leader’s finger. It had a familiar shape so grabbed for his hand to see what caught my eye. He must have thought that I was going to rob him because he didn’t seem too happy. My suspicions were right; this man, in the middle absolutely no where, was wearing a CTR ring. He told me that it was traded to his tribe from a young women passing through Kenya. We explained how important it was and what it stood for. He seemed very proud and pleased that it was worth something to us and that he owned it. It just goes to show that our Heavenly Father knows each and every one of us individually. What an amazing experience to build my testimony of the love He has for the people of Kenya, and those of us blessed enough to visit it.
Massai women select their husbands by how high they can jump in the air. Their fathers decide if they can marry them by how many cows they offer her family. It turns out everyone got a cow offer but me. One man wanted to send 30 cows to my friend’s dad. Me – NOTHING. Dang it, I am not even worth a stupid half-starved cow to these people.
To make matters worse they kept calling me Dennis. Apparently, they all have English names and one of them was called Dennis too. They brought him over to shake my hand and they all had a giggle.
FYI - Denise plus no cows offered and a boy’s name equals not funny.
The Massai women attack the van every time we enter and exit the safari park. They hoard around with their crafts and demand prices for things we didn’t even request. It is daunting and makes me feel utterly claustrophobic. I find myself buying things to get them to retreat. We both win at that point, I guess.
We saw the same animals as yesterday, plus some impalas, warthogs, hyenas, and baboons. Bonus round – we also came across the wildebeest/zebra migrations. It was like a milky way of wild animals stretching into the distance. Driving through them was nuts. They would run straight at us and then veer to the right or left at the last minute. It was like a super scary game of chicken. Needless to say, I was the chicken.
About half way through the day we got stuck in a big mud hole - A perfect spot for a lion attack. It didn’t help that a crazy cricket hopped in the van and I used that moment to hop out of the van and wait patiently for the bug to leave. The nice African driver kept saying, “I can’t protect you outside of the van, please lady come inside.” Only I would take the lion over the cricket.
One of my favorite people from GVN is Sally, the celebrity masseuse. Whenever things would get boring she would entertain us with stories from high school. She loved to join rallies, protests or anything where she could yell “unite” or “justice.” She is a hardcore Democrat and we love to banter about nearly everything. Every once and a while we will find something to agree upon – “unite!” That girl cracks me up.
One of the craziest animals we saw was a dik dik. It is a very small deer/cow that clearly is not very bright. For the rest of the trip if something bad happened one of us would yell out “son of a dik dik” and everyone would crack up for the next five minutes. The stupidest things are instantly hilarious out here. Don’t even get me started on the domestic pigmy lion cat we discovered.
At end of the safari we came along a hotel called Fig Tree Camp, which was a series of luxury suite tents on the end of the safari. They were beautiful and I was mad jealous we weren't there. Between Fig Tree Camp and Safari Park Lodge you really can do Kenya in luxury if you have the money. It would be great to do when Jeremy and I got older, or if we won the lottery. There is a surprising amount of elderlies here rocking out and this is how they are surviving. There is even a 75-year-old woman here with her sons. Rebel yell!
The day ended in a very unique and impressive way; we got to spend the evening in a traditional Massai tribe. These are the same people that refuse to have their picture taken and yet we were invited into their homes to learn about their culture. They live in shelters that are made of dried cow feces and branches. They smell really bad and look very unstable. The whole tribe is surrounded by a branch fence to keep out the wild animals. They herd cows for survival and they sleep inside the fence amongst the houses during the night. The whole village is covered in cow “deposits.” They only consume beef, milk and blood for food and drink. This place is intense. I can’t believe people can survive in those conditions. They are incredibly strong and very intimidating.
Just as we were leaving I saw a glittering ring on the tribal leader’s finger. It had a familiar shape so grabbed for his hand to see what caught my eye. He must have thought that I was going to rob him because he didn’t seem too happy. My suspicions were right; this man, in the middle absolutely no where, was wearing a CTR ring. He told me that it was traded to his tribe from a young women passing through Kenya. We explained how important it was and what it stood for. He seemed very proud and pleased that it was worth something to us and that he owned it. It just goes to show that our Heavenly Father knows each and every one of us individually. What an amazing experience to build my testimony of the love He has for the people of Kenya, and those of us blessed enough to visit it.
Massai women select their husbands by how high they can jump in the air. Their fathers decide if they can marry them by how many cows they offer her family. It turns out everyone got a cow offer but me. One man wanted to send 30 cows to my friend’s dad. Me – NOTHING. Dang it, I am not even worth a stupid half-starved cow to these people.
To make matters worse they kept calling me Dennis. Apparently, they all have English names and one of them was called Dennis too. They brought him over to shake my hand and they all had a giggle.
FYI - Denise plus no cows offered and a boy’s name equals not funny.
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