BACK IN THE U.S.

Well, we have made it back. We've been dying to write about our last month of travels. Heather has been working on the last writeup, which, I think, well need to be broken apart into a 3-part miniseries. You know, something like Lonesome Dove but without horses and guns. Here's her first crack:

After our wonderful trip up and down Mt. Kenya (which didn’t involve AS much falling as the previous posting might have suggested), we went back to Tumaini for a few days to say goodbye. At our last weekly Fellowship, Kris and I got up to say a few words and let the kids know that we were finally leaving. As Kris spoke, I started looking around at all the faces we’d grown to know in the past couple of months. I tried to think of some sage advice to help inspire them after we left, but as I looked at them I suddenly got all choked up and started to bawl. It didn’t stop for the rest of Kris’ speech or when we sat down, and began with renewed vigor when the little girls surrounded me and started singing a goodbye song with tears in their eyes. Wow. Leaving was definitely more difficult than we expected. We wished, as the kids requested requested, that we could fit some of them into our bags and take them home. By the next morning we (me) had it under control, and we packed into a cab, said some final goodbyes, and left for Nairobi. Though sad to leave our home and new friends of two months, we were very excited to start exploring more of the country.

Since we’re not scared to travel like the locals (and it fits nicely into the budget of the purposefully unemployed), we took matatus, which Kris has described in an earlier blog, shuttles, and big buses down to Mombasa. It was about a 10 hour trip down to the coast. We spent one night in Mombasa in a nice hotel with a/c and a fantastic Chinese restaurant located just around the back. It was so good. After two months in Central Kenya, Kris and I were craving some spicy, tasty food, and this place satisfied both. It was also interesting to watch a large party of Chinese boat workers, who were personally seated and catered to by the owner, party it up after a day of hard work. Assorted bottles of alcohol were placed, family style, on the lazy susan in the middle of the table, and they took shots between Tusker beers and tasty food. We were tempted to join in, but our Mandarin is a little rusty, and we were too worn out after our daylong bus ride.

The next morning we headed out through the streets of Mombasa led by some man who attached himself to us as soon as we stepped off the portico of the hotel. At first it was a bit irritating, we having had our share of “helpful” people on the street. Near the end, however, we were both thankful to have had him along, as he warded off other “guides” and aggressive local salesmen. He led us around Fort Jesus, a thick-walled Portuguese fort built right on the beautiful coastline, through the spice market, and then through the meat market where they sold live chickens along with bits of goat and camel for a good price. We purchased a few spices, said goodbye to our guide, and decided that it was time to head on down to Diani Beach.

hjk

That's it for now, we'll pick it up again soon. Here's some more pics.
Fort Jesus - Don't mess with the Jesus.
Spikes to keep off the elephants. Seriously.
Tried to get Heather to act out Blue Lagoon, but she was not down with it.

Spices. Not used anywhere in the Central Highlands.

Two Muzungus (White People) in a Matatu (Taxi)

This is kind of a long one. Our friend, Virginia invited us to travel to Nanyuki, see a local wool-weaving cooperative, and then visit a trout farm. The ride there was pretty uneventful, but it was our longest matatu ride to date. A matatu is the Kenyan crossbreed of a bus and a taxi. The breed is not often pretty. Minivans are used to transport people along set routes. Matatus typically come in 2 sizes – 14 person matatus and 10 person matatus. Occasionally, you will see a 7 seater. The 7 seater is like a smart Aggie. I hear they exist, but I've never seen one.

So, it was interesting to see the different plants that the weavers used to dye the spun wool. The cooperative provides a way for single/widowed women to earn some money and have a steady occupation. Nevertheless, there is only so much wool a person can look at.

After Nanyuki, we explored a group of shops situated on the equator, which is kind of a tourist spot. In a flash, was as if I had become my mother, Ron Draeger or Gerarld Kurio. Everything instantly became negotiable. I remember being on a trip with Draeger one time and we were buying some groceries at a large grocery store for a camping trip. This is in the U.S., mind you. Draeger attempted to negotiate down the price of the groceries. “I’ll give you a dollar for that bread. C’mon, what do you care?”

My conversations with the various dealers echoed in a similar tone. “That bracelet costs 750 shillings ($10.00)? Really, how about 150 ($2.00)?.....Now 600 shillings, how about 150? 500? Here’s 150. Ok, deal.” Kinda spooky.

After shopping, we headed to the trout farm in yet another matatu. We were dropped off on the side of the road generally in the area of the farm. After following Virginia for 20 minutes as she traipsed through a cow pasture in high-heeled shoes, I began to doubt that we were in the right spot. The bells ringing from the necks of the cattle around us made me question our path. Nevertheless, a short time later, we ran into the road to farm. Virginia was right on the money. Turns out the farm actually has an amazing restaurant that goes with it.

The restaurant is built around an ancient, giant fig tree. Colubus monkeys hopped from branch to branch eating figs. We took a seat and had our best meal to date. Smoked trout, grilled trout and masala trout. Soooooooo good to have a meal without corn. The trout reminded me of our trips to Montana when I was a kid. Fish fresh out of a stream, covered with salt, pepper, lemon and onion, wrapped in foil and thrown in the coals of the campfire. Again, soooooooo good.

We finished up, and headed for home. I was supposed to run with the kids at 4:30, so we left the restaurant around 3, figuring we had plenty of time. We hiked back to the road, and were met, almost immediately, by a matatu. The three of us hopped in. Heather and Virginia in the back, and I took the position next to the sliding door. Matatus are typically manned by a 2 person team - the driver and the solicitor, who gets people to take the ride.

The solicitor slid into the seat behind me. The driver punched the gas. We lurched forward, with the sliding door wide open. We rode for about 50 meters, and the solicitor pushed the door shut. The door, however, did not comply, and ground to a halt about half-closed. The driver continued over the protests of the solicitor. I must say that I did not mind the breeze. Finally, the driver stopped to address the open door. Likely, the police would not have let us continue, or, more likely, would have extracted a large fine from the driver. The solicitor and a buddy jumped out and went to work on the door, which, in turn, immediately fell off the matatu. I was curious how we would continue. Heather laughed from a couple rows behind me.

After 10 to 15 minutes, with the driver, solicitor and their buddy working and conferrig, the door was somehow placed back onto the van. It looked shaky, to say the least. The solictor asked me to slide over a spot, and he took my seat. He then reached into the front and fetched a piece of homemade rope, which was looped through the door. I cracked up.

On trips of this sort, I have often had a moment when I realize that things are out of my hands, and others are in charge. Backpacking Europe, I had a strict regimen of countries to visit and cities to explore. Except, trains rarely showed up on time. After a couple weeks, my friends and I would drink wine, play cards, and hop whatever train actually did show. In Peru, our van blew out a tire on the first day travelling to the clinic. I think we piled 12 people, plus medical supplies into one small SUV. Obviously, I was not going to make it back in time to run with the kids.

We continued in this manner. I was certain that the matatu would not take more people on due to the door. At the next stop, three more got on, bringing our total number of people on board to a record of 22. After a few more stops, the solicitor worked on the door for a while more. It appeared his buddy was able to pry the bent rail to allow the door to slide shut. Everyone clapped and laughed. Confident, the driver stomped on the gas. 200 meters down the, the door fell off completely. Sparks flying on the road, and the solicitor hanging on to the door for dear life.

Again, the door was pried on to the rail, and it somehow managed to stay that way the remainder of the trip. We pulled in to the home at 6:15p.m., just missing my scheduled time of 4:30. Some pics for you. Again, click on them to enlarge.
kk

A typical 14 seater matatu.

A typical number of passenger (inclusive of muzungu).


Heather thoroughly enjoying the pleasant ride.

My riding companion.

I'm sure this complied with U.S. car manufacturing standards.
Just like home at the Texas Shop.
Those two buckets show how the water twirls different ways at the equator.
Spun wool.

Trout Tree Restaurant.

Sooooo good.

The Kenyan Diet

I'm not saying that this is country wide, because I don't know. In our area though, we are eating a lot of bean, rice and corn based meals. A lot of runners asked me to write about the diet, so I figured I'd give it a whirl. For a couple that ate meat most meals of the day (an occasional burger for breakfast is nice), we have transistioned to a mostly vegetarian diet. The three main meals we have eaten are:
1. Githeri - This is kind of like a stew without the broth. It is made primarily of beans, corn, potatoes, kale, cabbage, and carrots. It is boiled in water. I belive, just barely covering the food. The water boils down, then let simmer. It has been served hot, and in something of a paste form. Not bad with hot sauce. I'd kill for a bottle of Cholula. Seriously.
2. Ugali- Maize (corn) flour boiled in water. Once it becomes firm, you eat it in pieces. Kind of like a large potful of a corn dumpling. Yummmy. Kinda tasteless.
3. Porridge - I still cannot figure out the name of the porridge. It is chock full of stuff though. Mix maize flour, wheat flour, soybeans, sorghum, water and milk. Boil it and serve in a cup. Mmmmmm. Kinda tasteless.

Here's a few more pics for you.
Drying out the running shoes. I have found that kiosks make the best dryers.
My new desktop.

The farmer's market. Word is Whole Foods is going to buy them out. I mean that in all seriousness.

This is Robert.
This is Lucy and Ann.

Let's talk again soon.
Kasper

One Week

One Week 1-13-10
Our first week in Kenya has flashed by. We are stilling dealing with jet lag, and are still frequently waking between 4:30 to 5:00 a.m. The internet has been down our entire stay so far, so forgive our lack of postings.

Back to our arrival - Another driver took us on the 3-hour drive from Nairobi to the home. As I mentioned in the last entry, he was a couple hours late in arriving. The drive was relatively easy, though, with the only traffic and obstacles being in Nairobi. Neither of us really knew what to expect on our arrival at the home. What did the home look like? How are the kids going to react to us? How will our proposed programs be implemented? The kids were in school as we unloaded our things, giving us some time to look around. The Tumaini home was constructed in 2003, so it is relatively new. The house and grounds are meticulously maintained by both a small staff and the children. The day before we left, we found out that a large portion of the yearly budget was cut as donations have decreased due to the poor global economy. A number of the staff was let go prior to our arrival. Additionally, a number of older kids (between high school and college) had to find other living accommodations. You would not know it by looking at the home; sadly, this may actually work to their detriment, as people would naturally assume that the home does not need the money.

The children started to drift in from school, and we began introductions. I believe that Heather’s name must only be used in America, as we have not yet been in another country where it can be pronounced. “Heavah…..Heevah…….Heehhaah.” The kids are getting better with it. My name, on the other hand, sounds so much cooler in other countries than it does in America. “Krees.” Drag out the e’s a little. Krees.

Heather has held 2 art classes so far, and they have been a large hit. The kids are really enjoying them. I began running with the kids a couple days ago, so I don’t yet have a feel for it. I am still getting to know the two coaches – Titus and Douglas. Titus has a 2:16 marathon under his belt, and Douglas is currently trying to make the Kenyan national team. Obviously, they are a wee bit above my level, and appear to be watching how I relate to the kids first. My other intended program was to pair as many kids as possible with a pen pal in the States. I’ve got a few things working against me on this one. The internet has been down the entire week that we have been here. The budget cuts make paying for normal post impossible. Finally, very few kids are allowed on the computers, making this hard to sustain once Heather and I leave. We will see. I am discussing ideas with the manager, matron, and our extraordinarily helpful friend, Zach. Zach is a fellow American who spent 8 months here last year, working to implement an introductory business course in the high school.

I will post some pics later when the network here isn't so funky.
Kris and Heather