"days of miracle and wonder"

With only a few short days left here in Kenya anything and everything makes me feel like a nostalgic mess even though I am still here.  I daydream too much and try to take mental pictures of everything I can.  I pay attention to small things like the crushed charcoal I walk over in my sandals.  The weight of carrying a liter of milk in a bag in my left hand from the shop below me.  The sounds of the tap tap tapping the woodworkers make while carving their wood with hand tools outside of my favorite place for chai in the morning (which costs slightly more than a dollar, is full of spices and the pot fills two mugs worth).  The taste and texture of mango.  The smell of udi burning in the shops below me in the morning when they first open.  The fact that I can now successfully sleep through the super loud tuk tuks on my street when I really need to.  Even with both windows open!

The way I am no longer annoyed to shower in salt water.  How I can walk through piles of garbage floating loosely on the ground and with dust and exhaust flying at my face and keep my concentration on whatever I wish instead of those things themselves.  I used to avoid each piece of garbage and cover my face with every passing car.  The way I make people laugh by using correct Swahili in comical ways.  How people on my way home from town know me in these back alleys.  Many of them greet me as if we had been lifelong friends and I don't even know their names.  Yesterday, someone greeted me by name and gave me a real surprise and then today I finally realized who he was.

I have become stronger in using my "emotional raincoat" and not letting every sad thing around me let me spiral into despair and lack of hope in humanity.  Yes there are many, many tragic things happening, being said, being done, destruction, corruption and everything else.  But we are all just doing our best, or I feel we are, most of us.  Someone who I have come to love has taught me something important about life.  Some people are living and others are just existing.  You can look at that from countless angles.  Believe me, because I have.  Living and existing are honestly relative to whom you are asking about which is taking place. 

I came for an internship and then to hopefully find work here in Kenya.  While a huge portion of the population here would really prefer to go find work in the U.S.  I have been noticing something that reminds me of this.  Every couple days or so when I am moving around, I see Swahili women (with Arabic family backgrounds) who have done facial bleaching and applied white-ish makeup to make their absolutely stunning, naturally tawny honey skin look white (like the color of printer paper).  It hurts me in a place deep in my soul because loads of people back home are also spending their hard earned money on tanning salons and tanning lotions in order to hide their "too white" skin.  Aren't we humans absurd??

I have been wishing that I could buy every banana, every coconut, every mango from every street vendor.  In the past few days I have wanted to place generous money into the hand of every begging child.  I have wanted to carry home no fewer than three tiny kittens from the center part of town.  I think of every place I haven't seen, even those just close to Mombasa and supposed to be great fun.  However someone really had something when they proclaimed that "enough is enough".  We each stumble through our lives under the illusion of feeling organized and having great purpose but in the end we all just add our unique, little drop of self into the giant, chaotic bucket.  It may not be what we want, it may not make a huge difference, but at least the bucket is swirling with diversity and hope.

Oh me.

Homesick

for a place i am not from

for a place i have not yet left

in the minutes when i remember life as a child

in the minutes when i think of winding alleys 
and the expressions on the faces of people selling fruits on the sidewalk

when i wake up and try not to remember the date

when i remember those i left far away

how it makes me want to curl up in their hugs and disappear for awhile

how i ache for wanting my cake in so many ways- and the greener grass on that other side

the differentness 

the sameness

the familiar

the new

it all pulls me

it stretches me apart

until i am not sure where my middle IS

until i decide my middle is in fact two

yes, that is how it is

yes, it will just be that way

Ex-PO-tish-on! Ho!!

Last week I was able to squeeze in one last agriculture-related adventure in my remaining time here in this stunning country.  I took a bus (mistake) from Mombasa to Kitale, essentially crossing the country and trying not to freeze to death when in the middle of the night the air and drops of cold rain shooting through the window cracks next to me tried as it might to give me hypothermia.  I did brilliantly pack a light fleece which was naturally above me in the compartment and inaccessible due to the abnormally tall man who had fallen into a (very unfair) deep sleep next to me.

My little music player's battery died.  I had only a yogurt and cookies for dinner and I continually got whiplash from the driver attempting to pass many slow trucks and then at the last second deciding against it.  It was good training in ignoring my bladder, learning to be uncomfortable and literally shivering for very long periods (we left in the height of Mombasa traffic at about 6pm and arrived in Kitale at about 9:15 a.m. the next day).  Just before reaching the surprisingly large city of Eldoret, the magnificent sun finally rose when I had just given up on the idea of it ever doing so.  I apologized to it profusely in my mind for the times I complained about its strength while profusely sweating 24/7 in Mombasa for the past months.

I wish I had been able to stick around Eldoret for a couple of days, it looks like an interesting place and has a nice feel.  With the sun up and at last in the comfort of my thin fleece, my brain allowed me to realize that this part of the country was cartoon-ishly lovely.  The scenery was green and lush, the aminals (cows more massive and healthy looking than I had ever seen in Kenya, goats, sheep, donkeys YES donkeys!) looked stronger and less miserable- in fact I could swear that they all looked happy.  The elevation was higher, the air was crisp and there were long stretches of maize kernels laying out to dry on large plastic tarps in the sun.  They would stretch for maybe half a football field and I could never figure out why the birds weren't feasting on them.

There were huge storage silos for maize, countless semis caring petroleum to Uganda and many beautiful trees and grassy areas.  I could see the very bottom of Mount Elgon which was blanketed in clouds.  It looked gigantic.  Kitale is really close to the Uganda border and I got the impression that the locals had much less exposure to tourists and white people in general.

Philip (who I was told about before coming to Kenya by a mutual friend who is a GROW BIOINTENSIVE trainer) met me at the bus station.  He is a true inspiration and a really motivated, thoughtful, committed and laid back person.  I have never met anyone who is so efficient in creating change yet keeps a cool demeanor and makes time to notice the small things and be so reflective.  Philip was raised and still lives in Mitume, a slum somewhat nearby Kitale town center.  He founded and runs the Organic Technology Extension and promotion of Initiative Centre (OTEPIC) http://www.otepic.org/ pretty much single-handedly from what I understand.  He has traveled around Europe for conferences and took the 6 month GROW BIOINTENSIVE training at Ecology Action in 2008.

He gave me a tour of the place where he began OTEPIC in Mitume, and it is very modest sized plot that he purchased from his own hard earned savings.  Near that original training site/garden is a small compound where the Alternatives to Violence Project that he also created is run.  When I came to check out the community room, there were dozens of young kids from the slums performing thoroughly rehearsed dance routines.  It really made my heart shine to see these young ones who lead their lives in such challenging circumstances, flying in all directions in their own way, to the music and with one another.

We also went to see "Bidii" which is the place where the main, current training site for OTEPIC is.  Bidii translates to "hard work" in Swahili.  It is a piece of sloping land in a rural and green setting that I would guess is maybe one acre.  The first thing Philip did upon starting at the site was to find resources for drilling a borehole.  The surrounding community faced huge challenges in finding access to water.  So when the funds were gathered, they drilled 75 meters down for fresh water for the garden and to be a water resource for the families living nearby.

I am aware of the recent literature suggesting the potential downsides to drilling boreholes, but I couldn't help but feel relieved for the endless stream of children who came to fill jerrycans for their families every minute I was at the site for two days.  They were so endearing and watching me with eagle eyes and often half open mouths.  One of them, who couldn't have been more than maybe 5 asked me every one minute or so for a full 10 minutes "how are you?".  I answered her every time wishing I could just hug her.

There was a newly built chicken coop for 50 chickens, a tree nursery, a fish pond, raised beds of collards, sunhemp, blacknightshade, bellpeppers and several others.  small trees, some citrus and some just fast-growing local varieties were planted all throughout.  The perimeter was lined with sunflower stalks taller than me which had passed their prime and had previous given the resident birds lovely snack of seeds for some time.  We slashed the dead stalks to add to the compost, we strung up bundles of soon to be mushrooms, we transplanted Moringa tree seedlings and I harvested some seeds.

The whole place just oozed with the feeling of community and I felt a real pull in my heart to want to be a part of such a community that works together to sustain themselves.  I don't know how else to put it all into words... it gave me a feeling of deep calm and admiration and restored hope within me that although there is so much negativity in life, there are still places doing so much multifaceted good.  And they were having a fabulous time while getting things done.  Singing, joking, dancing, telling stories.  I was thrilled that I decided to make the trip happen.  It really strengthened my sense of self and what is important to me.

I also spent time and shared accommodation with three Germans from a Peace Project.  We all enjoyed some very profound conversations about types of societies and options for going against the grain in order to foster mutual respect and understanding among everyone as different from one another as we may be.  I was reminded of my time in Rwanda and rekindled old nostalgia for my first exposures to German ways of doing things.  At first, they really got on my nerves to be honest and then, I just went with it and let go of my loss of control of how my time was spent  and I found their behaviors so pronounced that they magically became charming.

If I can make it happen one day, I hope so much to return to the Western Province and explore the Rift Valley and the areas all around Kitale.  I just know there is much, much more waiting to be discovered by me.

Back in the saddle again

Which reminds me, I really miss riding horses. Ha!

After a 3 week stint of fighting a sinus infection and multiple fevers wherein I refused to take the antibiotic route, I now feel 90% like myself.  It is incredible how much better my brain is working just in the past 12 hours.  I am back to exercising, back to pursuing work both here and in California, and back to being able to plan for the future in other ways.

It has been an eventful day.  I spoke with my contact in Central Province who is in management for the sustainable agriculture organization whose projects I visited here on the coast.  After some recapping of previous conversations, delicately posing questions, and exchanging suggestions I feel, more than ever, that something could potentially work out for me with them if I organize the right moving parts well and the donor community is feeling interested and ready to be involved.  It was a really productive talk.  By the end of it, I felt like the ball was officially in my court and the door was left wide open for exploring collaboration.  Glory glory to good developments!!!

Today I was able to break in my little clay burner for the udi I received as a gift from my herbal doctor.  Udi, which is pronounced "eeew-dee" is like an incense that comes in little chunk forms usually and is perfumed with oils.  There are different classes or qualities of udi and the Swahili women around Mombasa (and I'm sure elsewhere in the world) use the smoke of it to freshen their homes, clothes, hair and anything else they please instead of deodorants and perfumes or colognes.  My little place is smelling lovely as a dream and I plan to bring my sand/clay burner back to the states with me in my hand luggage.

On my way to the cyber cafe where I am now, I experienced something pretty hilarious.  Actually two funny things.  I walked a different route than I have before and some slightly crazy dude who looked like he wanted something from me and might have been under the influence of something started asking me loudly, "WHERE ARE YOU FROM?  WHERE ARE YOU FROM?" over and over again.  I fought the urge to respond since I know how these stories end.  After the second time he asked I looked behind me over my shoulder at him into his crazy eyes.  Without saying anything to him I heard a different man who was sitting on the steps of a Mosque nearby answer him for me, "From Kenya! From Kenya!"  I smiled at the second man with the nicest smile I could muster and felt like a trillion dollars.

The crazy dude wouldn't give up.  I felt snobby but just wouldn't let myself answer him.  I was walking FAST (as usual) and so was another random man was also walking in the same direction at roughly the same speed as me- but just behind Mr. Crazy.  When I realized the guy was more stubborn than expected, I continued walking, turned and looked him in his crazy eyes and dramatically waved my arms and said, "HAKUNA KAZI. ,,,dramatic pause...  HAKUNA PESA." Which means, "No work. No money".  My arms were high above my shoulders and I tried to make a semi-friendly facial impression.  The other guy walking near us laughed out loud to himself for a solid 15 or 20 seconds.  The response from my follower was, "OK, Aloha!" and I gave him a thumbs up behind my back as I continued walking.  He repeated himself a couple of times and I yelled back "ok!".  Just glad I could turn a potentially depressing and annoying situation into one that was amusing.

On another happy note, yesterday was a fantastic day.  I went to visit my beloved, gigantic, huge-hearted dog Jack.  I came carrying two Loquat tree seedlings, an onion plant, and a sprouted sweet potato.  The caretaker who also feeds Jack and is a dear friend to Jack, helped me to clear some land and we planted them all together.  His young son Robert helped out in bringing shovels of cured cow manure and some water over for us repeatedly.  The entire event just made my heart glow with joy.  I was attempting my third tree planting operation in Africa, surrounded by kind souls, in a place where, if any of them live to grow big and strong, I may see them again one day when I come to see my dog.

Back to the grind.  Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving to all Americans!!!  I am filled with gratitude for so many blessings in my life.  What a lucky, lucky woman I am. In a dozen different ways.

streamofconsciousness

True or False?

1.  I chopped my hair off, again.

2.  The other day I swam with a monkey named "Ninja" sitting on my shoulders.

3.  I live near a historical site called Fort Jesus.

4.  I have developed a stress-related eye twitch.

5.  I now can look children in the eye when they beg me for money.

6.  I can shower with cold water now and not freak out like a crazy person.

7.  I still nostalgically keep track of American pop culture.

8.  I haven't been remembering my dreams for awhile.

9.  The other day, I was asked if I could "double dig" by a total stranger.

10.  Jack will soon be getting a new friend.

scroll down for answers

1. FALSE

2. TRUE

3. TRUE

4. TRUE

5. FALSE

6. TRUE

7. FALSE

8. FALSE

9. TRUE

10. TRUE

Finding home in my skin

Where shall I begin?

Lately, my hopes for the future both immediate and long term are somehow so simultaneously promising, exciting and contradictory to one another that I don't know what to think of them.

Here are some deep convictions that keep re-emerging in my mind.  I would have been so smart to just simply live my childhood dream of becoming a veterinarian.  I could have pursued that years ago and saved myself a lot of unnecessary confusion and been almost an expert by now.  Ah yes, how true it is that hindsight is 20/20.  On another note, I could also likely excel as an herbal doctor given my love for helping people to feel better and my love for plants, nature and knowing uses that plants can offer.  

I also often feel a pull back to my undergrad area of interpersonal communication.  I don't know what that means, but it still interests and feels important to me.

In unrelated news, I am thinking long and hard about how to ease myself back into American life when I return next month.  Yikes, next month. Taking deep breaths.  The good thing is that I have experience knowing myself and how I feel after having lived in Africa for some time and then colliding back into the U.S. during the holidays, of all possible times to return.  A time when materialism is at its peak, family and friends seem stressed and trying to do too much, planning, organizing and largely forgetting about the rest of the planet for a few weeks.  Whereas I will also be stressed for my own silly reasons but conversely spending about 80% of my time thinking about another part of the planet.  Feeling like that place was a dream.  A good dream that ended so abruptly that I am left desperately trying to cling to everything that happened in that dream.  The characters, the colors, the scenery, the goods and bads, my overall view of myself during the dream.  And so on.

The truth is that it wasn't a dream.  So I will work daily on convincing myself that the whole year did, in fact occur and I was, in fact, doing all I was doing during it.  Sounds easy enough right?  It's not.  At least I know it's coming.  Which I do believe will help me this time.

I remember in college, my favorite professor Dr. Miura teaching us about communicating with loved ones after a life-changing trip.  I don't remember what theory that the point fell under, but the gist was this:  those of us who are able or choose to have trips that end up being life altering will always experience two major phases of communication with our loved ones upon our return.  First we come back, everyone is ecstatic and eager to hear some wild stories and ask their various questions.  This part is so fun for everyone involved.  Then that phase ends after some rough amount of time- say a couple months.  Next, even though that phase is over and loved ones are satisfied with the answers to their questions and their curiosity has waned to near non-existance, the traveler will incessantly recall, "oh when I lived in Kenya blank blank blank" and "I remember this one time in Kenya" or "oh my dear friend from Kenya"...

In this second phase the traveler still feels brimming full of experiences that must be shared but those close to them, as much as they are happy for the traveler, feel a sense of "enough already", and the stories are like broken records even though the details may change.  Man, I wish I could remember Dr. Miura's wisdom on what the traveler should do at that time.  

I don't know where I am going with all of this but just wanted to blurt it out.  There it is.

ACCEPTANCE

Since the last time I wrote here are some developments in my life/mentality:

I moved to the island of Mombasa from the coast just north of it- to save money, be closer to friends and to be able to walk literally everywhere I need to go.  It is basically a studio but the bathroom has a door and I have a little balcony.  It is in Old Town so I hear tuk tuks zooming by, dramatic Muslim speakers talking about secret societies (while at other times singing Rihanna songs, or talking about Manchester United, all in Swahili) on the radio in the shop downstairs.  I also hear people beating on the drums for sale at the tourist shop below me from time to time and always wish that it lasted for more than a few seconds.  I am getting devoured by mosquitoes even though I sleep in a net.  I have a perimeter of very confused and curious ants around my entire ceiling, which I have been told is "a blessing".  I can see a strip of magical blue ocean from one side of my roof top.  I shower with cold water, even early in the morning and after the first splash, I find that I enjoy it. Though the area has a very sleepy, old feel, I can walk to a pharmacist, a tailor, multiple cyber shops, the Old Port, my favorite garden, a local shop that sells milk and the essentials and a streetside stand that sells kibibi- my latest addiction which i need the recipe for (kind of like a spongy, pancake with rice flour and deliciousness bigger than my hand and costing less than 50 cents). I had three at a time for dinner three nights in a row with a bottle of yoghurt.  Healthy, I know.

I have become less of a coward in using the Swahili I have learned.  I am better at ignoring the people who laugh (in disbelief) and get a nice little confidence boost from the way I see the faces of strangers and friends light up when I casually blurt something out in their language and they aren't expecting it.

I successfully sprouted TWO Loquat tree seeds which I had picked from the ground in Central Province  off of a gravel driveway in an office compound.  If I can successfully find a safe place and transplant them before I leave they will cancel out my two previous failed attempts at tree growing in Africa (young Loquat tree I planted at G-BIACK, and avocado seedling I planted in Rwanda which also didn't make it).

I've given a brief overview of my version of what American politics look like to a handful of people and re-arrived at the conclusion that had I been born with a heart of stone and the ability to lie, I would have made one kick ass politician.

I booked a ticket back to California for December.  It was a long time coming.  It will be a long time going.  I am crushed and ecstatic all at the same time.  In the end, I know at this point in time it is the right step for me and by no means does it equate to me never coming back to this continent where humanity began.

Two more job opportunities -one here and one in California- bit the dust.  So be it.  Pitied myself for a night and then got back on the horse.

I have faced the fact that I am longing for a sense of community.  Like minded people who think about how they use their resources, have hobbies similar to mine and like to share ideas, seeds, music and inspiration.  Even un-like minded people who live responsibly and behave in recognition that those who live near them are human beings just like them.

I'm seriously considering going vegetarian again when I am back in the states.  May or may not allow myself a couple weeks of carnitas, won ton soup, bacon and my mom's chicken tacos.  I deserve that with no remorse.  I could never kill a chicken, or a pig.  Never.  I know starvation can lead people to act all kinds of crazy but I swear to you, knowing my myself as deeply as I do, if I were starving and hanging out with a pig or chicken nearby I would just want to cuddle it and let my body succumb to its fate.  And even if that's not true, I like to think it is.  So just let me, please.

I started wearing loose, "cheap" dresses from the market.  It is too brutally hot and humid not to and they are so lovely to wear since they  feel like pajamas. And they make me feel so lady-like.  I wish I could fly back to the states with a suitcase full of Mombasa dresses and leave my heavy, too tight jeans here.  Yet I know I will arrive to temperatures that will make my bones feel like ice for months so maybe that's not an option.

For about a week in a row, I had extremely vivid dreams which were almost all good.

I got bangs. Well, sort of.

For the second time in my life, I faxed my election ballot in from Africa.

Obama was reelected as President of the United States of America.

Californians decided they would rather not know how their food comes into existence because it's more important to have lower taxes.

I've come to terms with the fact that living in Kenya has corrupted me into liking Celine Dion and Michael Bolton again.  Embarrassing?  No.  They have fantastic voices regardless of their flaws like bad haircuts and egos.

Just witnessed something... well, this is not for the faint of heart

My heart is still racing.

About 10 minutes ago I heard something sparking the electric fence just off the corner of my apartment. Once it registered that the sound was the fence I noticed my cat, Lia, out of the balcony with her head tilted to the side watching something.  I walked over to look and figured it was tree branches in the wind.  Unfortunately, it wasn't.

At first I only saw wings and thought to myself, "oh no! that poor bird!!!" but a few seconds later I could see more clearly that it was actually a bat.  The little creature had it's tiny feet clasped around the top wire and was hanging upside down from it.  Every time it's wing or head would brush against the second and third wires it would get shocked.  I automatically waited for it to let go of the top wire in one of the moments where its body swung away- then I realized- it was paralyzed into hanging on. Oh at that exact point in time I, too felt paralyzed.  I was so stunned by what was happening I couldn't take my eyes off of it.  Another part of me screamed from inside "DO SOMETHING".

I had visions of grabbing a big stick and pushing it off, but the coward part of me also pictured it letting go and it's smoking body flying down onto my head.  So I thought of a second plan: I would go get the security guard, Sammy and beg him to do something.  No, I thought to myself, I can't just tell him since it will take ages for him to know what I am trying to talk about and when he does eventually understand he will simply laugh.  It was my only option.  

I ran downstairs and he was opening the stupid gate for a car which ate up a solid three minutes.  In that time I ran over to the fence and stood below the poor thing making sure it was still, in fact, there.  I rushed back to him as he closed the gate.  "There is a bat... just.. A PROBLEM WITH ELECTRIC FENCE. HURRY!"  He lumbered over to me and when I was able to explain he said he would go grab a long object.  He disappeared for a couple of long minutes and I could still hear the clicking of the bat being shocked.  Before he reappeared I rushed back over to glance at the fence.  The bat was "gone".

I don't know which "gone".  There was a horrible smell (still is) and a horrible feeling in my stomach.
And almost worst of all, just as I predicted:  when I told Sammy the bat was gone and dead.  He laughed.  He laughed but it wasn't a laugh at all, it was a long giggle.  Which mad me even more angry.

Rest in peace little bat and thank you for saving us from all of those mosquitoes you surely feasted on.  I am sorry a thousand times over that our ridiculous human creation and need for safety cost you your life.

"Human tails? Humans don't have tails. They have big, big bottoms that they wear with bad shorts. They walk around going, "Hi, Helen" -Batty

Lessons in food poisoning

1. We are not immortal
2. Sometimes the reasons why bad, painful things happen will never be known
3. Even people who are quite mindful of germs and cleanliness are not immune
4. Digestive systems have feelings too
5. Don't ever move to a country without bringing saltine crackers or having someone mail you some.  If you get food poisoning in a country where you have no access to saltine crackers, you will constantly be thinking of how much saltine crackers just might help
6. Living alone in a faraway country has its attractive, appealing, liberating moments although this will never be one
7. The only thing slightly more annoying than getting food poisoning is getting it so many times that you don't even want to tell people you are close with after it happens since their "Again?!?" reaction makes you feel like hitting your head against a wall
8. When you think you are just going to the hospital to "get checked out" always bring reading material, a toothbrush, clean underwear and your phone charger

What do you DO all day, sit around and watch TV???

I was asked this question by a friend as we had juice and Swahili pizza in town one evening a couple of weeks ago. It invoked all kinds of rage within me because #1 I HATE sitting around! and #2 my TV is so lousy that I used to get 5 channels and now I only get 3, and of those, only one actually has color/an actual picture.  Let me note that 99.9% of those channels are in Swahili so my attention span lasts about 20 seconds.  I think I turn it on about once every 2 or 3 weeks and if the hilarious Kung Fu show where people fly around and women fight off ten guys with weapons (with zero blood) and birds pick up children in their mouths and fly away isn't on, then I will turn it off.

I'm always so ashamed when people ask me what I am doing here.  I always say "looking for work", and it is true.  I spend hours and hours searching the internet and sifting through newspapers and telling friends to keep an ear out for me.  But if I am brutally honest (which is scary to do so publicly), it is taking too long to find a job in Kenya.  I am beginning to see that as a signal that I need to change something about my plans.  I haven't yet put my finger on exactly what that will look like, but I am becoming increasingly more open to working outside of Kenya- or even outside of Africa.

At any rate I do need to keep evaluating how I spend my time.  It can be uncomfortable and awkward living without a routine that has been imposed on you by a school or employer etc.  Usually in those situations people complain about not having free time, etc. etc.  I, on the other hand really strive with structure and I need to trust myself more to create more structure in my life.  In addition to creating structure, I need to learn not to be swayed when some unplanned thing comes up (like rescuing a kitten, which then gets sick and I have to clean up after it constantly, or a lunch or dinner invitation by friends which I know will inevitably turn into a multiple hour marathon visit).

I find that do I make all kinds of attempts to create structure in my days.  I will have plans and usually follow them somewhat closely, but what gets me off track is when I'm invited by others to do something.  It's not that I feel eager to abandon my plans, I actually get a little annoyed that I won't be sticking to them, but the reason- if I am brutally honest again- is GUILT.  How CAN I say "no" to an invitation when all of my friends know that I don't have work?  In the US it would be easy for them to understand, but here, it somehow comes across as insulting.  Apparently I can be a big pushover.  I am such a people pleaser (AND animal pleaser, yikes, a double whammy!) that I make sacrifices to keep others happy.  Sometimes I think that is okay, but I know in my case, I need to monitor that so I can keep myself in check.

During this time of transition I am gravitating toward all kinds of phrases and sayings and inspirational quotes and theories.  It is lovely to internalize these but how far will they get me, really?  For example: 
"You won't find what you want unless you KNOW what you want" (really like that one) 
and more recently, "instead of following your passion, cultivate it".
and this one haunts me but seems the least helpful: "if you don't know where you're going..." ah we all know that one.  

So according to conventional wisdom, in a nutshell we should all: 
#1 KNOW WHAT WE WANT
#2 PICK A ROAD
and #3 CULTIVATE OUR PASSION

Or can each of these only be followed separately?  Or in a different order than the one I put them in?  You see, that is the problem with conventional wisdom.  As intelligent as it sounds, it can often just confuse more than assist.  So should we toss it aside?  I doubt it.  Maybe it is just better if we look for our own answers while occasionally remembering the useful bits.

It is also a gray area if you think of these things in terms of "control".  One school of thought is that, nothing will happen for you unless you go out and make it happen and take you life in your hands.  Another school of thought will insist that everything is out of our control and the Universe, or a chosen God will decide it all regardless of what plans we may make for ourselves.  What if we don't buy into either one?  That is sort of where I am finding myself, although I have always been more in line with the former.  

To lighten things up a bit, here are some professions that I downright KNOW I would be incredible at:
Professional "thinker"
Animal rescuer
School garden and nutrition instructor (I wish more of these positions existed)
Seed specialist
Organic baker
Free lance botanical sketch artist
Free lance, international journalist (in a world where there wasn't already 200 free lance journalists for every story)

Yes, there is not a particularly "hot" market for those jobs at this time- as far as I'm aware.  Certainly nothing lucrative.  Still, I am convinced that knowing these will be helpful to me somehow at some point in my life.

What are YOUR thoughts on conventional wisdom??

Black Holes and Expectaaaaaations

It's been ages.  I am annoyed with myself about that.  I have wanted to write at least 10 times since my last entry, but couldn't convince myself that I had anything worth sharing.

These days, my Swahili is getting a bit better including my Swahili listening skills.  Cannot explain how happy I am about this.  Every now and then, I will find myself thinking in Swahili.  I am really embracing Swahili dishes too, and feel determined to perfect the coconut bread.  It is pretty frustrating that I don't have any great kitchen utensils or nice pans/pots.  Maybe it is a blessing though, since I know that if my kitchen were decked out, I'd spend too much time trying new recipes instead of job hunting.

I was rejected for the first job I applied for.  It was with One Acre Fund in Western Kenya.  They openly promote the use of inorganic fertilizers to lots and lots of farmers.  So, it really wasn't a great fit for either side.  Probably a blessing.  Applied to two other positions, one in Uganda and one in the U.S..  Been close to two weeks and I am still awaiting responses.  Applying for jobs feels like revealing your soul to strangers and then sending documents with loads of information about yourself straight into a giant black hole.  Hopefully that feels less bizarre with time.

Last week, I traveled to Nairobi and Thika to meet with the Outreach and Networking manager for Sustainable Agriculture Community Development Programmes (SACDEP) http://sacdepkenya.org/ (the website is less phenomenal than the work they are doing).  I had briefly talked to the Executive Director on the phone and he directed me to this colleague of his.  I was mainly looking for information about their program with the coastal youth and how I might involve myself- but it turns out that it's a "fruit, nut, and livestock" program that is pretty streamlined and confined and it's unlikely I would find a way to get on board.  A group of kids on the coast buys these items from farmers in Kilifi and Malindi and then goes to the higher end hotels and sells them at a profit.  Pretty solid idea, really.

The meeting went really well overall.  Started off a little shaky, I was nervous and she seemed a bit skeptical of me, which is totally fair.  Almost as I was about to leave, she casually mentioned that I could submit ideas for new programs and they would be considered.  I've also been instructed to send my CV, what my expectations are for my involvement with SACDEP, what I'd like to be exposed to and what I'd like to achieve.  Quite a lot to think about and I wish I could just send it all in today!!!  The good thing is that doing this exercise will likely help point me in a clearer direction regardless of which organization I end up working for.  True, they are broad, overwhelming questions, but it's probably good for me to uncomfortably squirm and sit with them for a few days.

I confirmed the fact that I do not miss living in the Central Province.  Nairobi was cold and too city-ish for this country mouse and Thika was still dull and almost unbearably dusty.  It was heartwarming to see a couple of good friends and the staff from G-BIACK.  Jack's mom, Simba, has another litter of puppies and they look so malnourished that it breaks my heart.  There was a little black one with brown eyebrows, a white chest and brown legs.  It was like a little skeletal version of Jack back in the day.

The center has changed massively.  I am really happy for the directors (even though my relationship with them has really changed since I've left).  There are new buildings, a new greenhouse, the crops are thriving, a new and bigger seed bank (!), foot bridges across the trench, new rabbit house and some new staff.  A few of the students remembered me and were thrilled.  It really tickled me that they got so excited to see me.  Wish I could have seen the kids at the house where I used to live, so I could hand deliver their coconuts that I trekked across the country by bus.  The seed bulking garden is also more utilized these days which made me happy to see!!

I was beyond ecstatic to learn that not everything that I planted at G-BIACK died in the floods.  The chamomile, peppermint, fennel and one gorgeous pink hibiscus were still going strong, in addition to the basil.  My two strawberry plants were twice as big as when I left them and I was informed that some truly delicious strawberries had been enjoyed the day before.  Happy someone could enjoy them!

Pictures of the center to come soon.

In other news, I stupidly adopted a kitten from the main part of Mombasa town.  It has me wrapped around it's little paw and I literally have to justification for keeping it other than it helps me de-stress to play with it and care for it.  

Here's hoping it won't be another blue moon until I write again.  If anyone is, still in fact reading this thing. Ha!

Yummy fruit!

Custard Apple

 Dates mbichi (though prob a different variety since the ones I am eating are less orange and more yellow)

notes to self

1. Do not use "black henna" paint on skin.  It is actually not henna but a chemically dye used usually for dying hair or clothes and is much too powerful to be used on human skin.  I've got some gory blisters on my forearms and backs of my hands and fingers.  Medications and ointments don't seem to be helping. Lesson learned.

2. Dates "mbichi" are my new favorite thing!  Well also dates "mbivu" AND custard apples.  Okay less of a "note to self" and more just a proclamation.
"mbichi"= unripe and "mbivu"= ripe How can I explain their loveliness when mbichi?  They are yellow, charming, crisp, tangy, small little bursts of refreshment.  Collectively clinging to their small, yellow branch from their tree (I saw a date tree in Majengo, one of my favorite parts of town and it looked like a palm tree almost but with a shorter and sturdier trunk!) these little jewels make me smile when I take them out of the fridge.  I can only eat them in twos.  The texture is aaaaalmost like a very crisp, fresh apple, but the flavor is completely its own.  The skin is somehow a tiny bit bitter and the almost sweet tang of the fruit inside compliments it deliciously.  Alright, alright enough about dates.

Custard Apple!  I must post a picture of this, there is no real explaining except that it is more unique than most fruits I have eaten and the seed to fruit ratio is extremely high.  The shiny black seeds are like artwork in and of themselves and the pulpy part that sticks both around them and to the skin is almost milky, gooey and delicious.  I think they are at least 70% seed and 30% edible fruit but the work of getting the fruit is so worth it.

3. It is HIGH time that I quit stressing about finding a job that is an absolute, great fit and just FIND SOMETHING.  It is making me crazy not having a set path.  I used to love that kind of life, but I'm 30 now and I want to have kids while I can which means I need to start earning money for them, like, yesterday.  Blah.  Of course I also need to pay rent and eat etc and all of those boring realities.

4. I need not let myself feel inferior for having beliefs that are different than everyone around me.  This is tough, since I am already an "outsider" in so many ways.  The fact that I am not a Muslim in this town only magnifies that.  I am working hard not to let it make me feel alienated but at times, let's be honest, I fail.  I don't blame this on anyone but myself since everyone (whom I know- and even some I don't) has been quite welcoming.  Though I do feel pressure to conform and end up feeling stuck at times in between wanting to make everyone happy and really accept me, and being true to myself.  This situation is, well, awful.  Rock and a hard place is an understatement.  Yesterday evening I was having dinner at a friend's home.  The Adhan from the nearby mosque began (call to prayer) and the two girls and the mother in the house rushed to put the couch covers over their heads and pulled one off and put it on my head, too.  I sort of new about this rule, but still have NO idea why women must cover their heads during the call to prayer.  I felt a little like I was in one of those confusing dreams where people are doing things that don't make sense but you just convince yourself that it's natural. I asked the oldest girl thinking that I would finally get an answer, but her answer was just that they must cover their heads when the Adhan is calling.  Right.  Add that to the list of questions I still would like to have answered.

5. Going to the gym is ALWAYS a good idea.  Unless I have broken bones or am seriously ill.  It is especially the best idea when I don't feel like going.  Tonight I dragged myself in there with massively itchy arms and feet hating the socks and shoes on them and I stayed over an hour.  In spite of the painfully awful soft rock music station that was playing on the radio next to me.  I even tried running (yes on a treadmill which i never believed in, but i'm beginning to embrace due to practicality and the fact that tons of people in public aren't staring at me pretending to know what the hell I am doing).

6.  Don't judge a day by the horrible dreams I have had the night before.  This seems obvious but really powerful, bad dreams have a way of affecting my mood and mindset throughout the following day.

7.  On that note, try to also accept the feeling of my skin being on fire with the worst mosquito bites you can imagine (the only way i can describe my allergic blisters).  I need not let the out of control of my own body feeling let my brain go reeling out of control too.  This is much harder than it sounds.  I have even been forgetting to breathe at times because I am so focused on how crazy itchy I am on my arms, hands and feet.  

8.  Check out African herbal medicine.  I feel like Moringa could help me in some way but I don't know how to access it even though I have two baby trees in my apartment.  I've already tried and will NOT try again Masaai medicine, but there are herbal clinics all around town and if I can get a recommendation I definitely want to go in and ask some questions and at least see how they operate and then do my own research.  Ah, forever a student.

Jana

"Jana" means "yesterday" in Swahili.  And what a day it was.

After feeling a little confused due to my sleep cycles and eating changing drastically during Ramadan, I met up with two of my favorite friends.  They took me to one of their sister's houses where she completely adopted me like a sister.  I went with the intention of only doing an allergy test for henna body painting since she is an experienced henna artist.  Let's just say that after staying at Nuru's place with her, her daughters and a neighbor friend from late morning until about 7:30pm, I experienced much, much more than an allergy test!

To get to the house, we piled into a tuk tuk and arrived in a part of town called Majengo, which has so much character that I always love to visit it.  Nuru came and met us outside and we walked past maybe four or five GIGANTIC pots of smoking biryani (i think) that was cooking over wood fires.  I am not kidding, I could have fit inside these pots.  I literally had to walk with my eyes closed because the smoke was so thick and the heat from the fires made me sure I was going to fall on the ground from the intensity.

Once in the house which was an apartment at the top of many flights of stairs, we all sat around on the "maglis" (Arab/Swahili style seating of a rug with pillows against the wall).  I will say there is something more intimate about feeling grounded in the Earth while socializing.  We all talked, or they talked and I pretended to be awake while trying to distinguish a few Swahili words here and there in the conversation.  Eventually, my friends left and Nuru "went to town" painting up both sides of my hands and the outsides of my feet.  Something about the allergy test got lost in between translation and her just being extremely enthusiastic about painting me.  How could I stop her?

As soon as my friends took off, Nuru's daughters were shyly trying to talk to me, combing my hair and just smiling and watching my every move.  They were adorable.  I felt an instant connection with Rukiyah, her first born.  After I was painted up, I realized more and more that I was sleep-deprived, seriously weak from not eating and totally not in the mood to be a gracious, social guest.  I tried to politely explain this and Nuru had me rest on her bed for a bit.  It was quite hilarious since the chunks of henna paint were still drying on my limbs and I awkwardly tried to find a position that would keep the paint away from her bed but at least be halfway comfortable.  This proved impossible and I didn't sleep.

I had been invited for dinner and by about 2:30 or 3pm, the house was bustling with people cleaning and preparing food for breaking the fast at 6:30.  Half-awake, I attempted to talk but dozed for a few minutes here and there.  I felt like such a lazy, worthless guest.  I didn't have the energy or clarity of mind to jump in and help much.  After a few short hours I had learned so much.  For starters, I love Nuru and her girls and second, I know now how to make Bajia Dengu, Mahamri, and Kaimati ya Shira.  Each of them are fried in "mafuta ya uto" (vegetable/cooking oil) and are delicious.  The bajia is a mix of grated potato, carrot, onion, dania (cilantro), pili pili boga (bellpepper) and split pea unga (flour) and maji (water). Mahamri is something between a bread and a donut and calls for iliki (cardamon) and is a triangular-shaped puffed up thing after coming out of the oil.  Kaimati, well where do I begin?  They are basically my favorite guilty pleasure here in Mombasa.  We would call them donut holes and they have a lovely glaze made from sugar, water, lemon juice and rose essence.  Mmmmmmmmmm.

Naturally, I forgot my camera (in my defense I had NO idea that I'd be spending the day there)- but Rukiyah borrowed an iPhone from a neighbor and got some great shots of the henna and cooking which I am frankly not sure if I will ever see!  I huddled around a gas burner on the floor of the kitchen and watched Nuru's technique with frying each delicious item.  My first realization as we sat together with sweat running down our foreheads was that my kitchen is missing lots of the required utensils.

Around ten minutes to 7pm we all finally gathered on the majlis and there was an incredible spread of food before us.  There was tambi (a sweet, aldante vermicelli pasta mixed with delicious raisins and a bit of sugar), fagili (?) (which is what i think we call daikon, and has quite the little ZING and tasty, green leaves- and is supposed to helped digestion/get rid of gas), salad with cucumber, a savory beef stew, white rice with vegetables, PIZZA (with sausage and potato!), a dish with matoke in a rich tomato sauce with coconut, and of course the bajia, mahamri and kaimati.  In additon, we enjoyed freshly made juice from mango, watermelon and lemon, and a "tea" that was really hot milk with milk powder, vanilla, ginger powder and sugar.  It was delicious and I had two cups but wanted about 5.

I promise to take pictures of my lovely henna paintings very soon!  I am really happy with how they turned out and will silently pray every day that I don't have a disastrous, allergic reaction.  I've been told it can take 3 days to a week for a reaction to occur.  So please cross your fingers for me...

I went home feeling so blessed and grateful for a day that started off in an exhausted mess and ended with me feeling like anything was possible.

This is what a resume *should* look like, folks.

KATE LONG NAME YOU ARE NOT GOING TO TRY TO PRONOUNCE EVEN IN YOUR HEAD
Address: Place that I love deep down in my bones and where no jobs exist

Irrelevant (but in Real Life the most important) Experience

courageously climbed to a rooftop in dress clothes at the age of 6
expertly filled, tied and threw hundreds of water balloons with world class accuracy
agilely worked myself in and out of dog doors as a child if locked out of house
lovingly and wholeheartedly cared for no fewer than 10 incredibly unruly stuffed animals
calculated and executed exact, required running speed for catching a bus when late for school
fiercely inhaled my own body weight in cookie dough over the span of several years
tactfully and bravely fed a cucumber to a deer while camping
invented many forms of dance yet to be discovered in some parts of the world
impatiently tried to learn how to play the piano approximately 12 times
published dozens of carefully staged dog photos including flowers, swings, & oak trees
garnered the Native American name Katie Swift Wind despite being quite the average runner

Education

22+ years of being taught how to be like everyone else, why you should be like everyone else, and who exactly within everyone else really is or is not your friend

Specialized Training

10 extremely fulfilling and life-enriching experiences which you naturally do not care at all about, though awarded me with lovely certificates upon completion

Additional Qualities

self-deprecation

sarcasm

questioning authority at all times

speaking my mind whether or not it is helpful to the current situation

refusing to compromise my beliefs

99% success rate in catching thrown grapes in my mouth from overhead

INSPIIIIIIIIIIIRAAAAAATION

my future home. any questions?

...for an added boost of inspiration/restoration of faith in humanity follow this link:

http://youtu.be/J-qKUs758hk

2 poems. yes! out of nowhere!

funniest phenomenon. these poems came to me as i was literally half asleep and i stumbled to find a pen an paper and it was as if my hand had a mind of its own.

MID-MORNING MOMBASA DANCE

If someone were to look up from the nearby road

at the right angle

at the right moment

they would see her

a woman with wild hair 

half in her face, half in the wind

with arms outstretched on the rooftop

while she is gliding this way and that

in her over-sized tie died sleep dress

picking her clothes off the line

thanking the sun for another job well done

LALA

Chest and heart hovering just above the ocean floor

enveloped by fluid reassurance of belongingness 

A snowy white owl surrenders to gravity

air filters through each of her delicate feathers

It comes to me like this

("lala" is Swahili for "sleep")

My favorite tree on Earth

http://www.gardenorganic.org.uk/pdfs/international_programme/TTS1-Adansonia_digitata.pdf

This hour calls for some Cat Power.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hJct5aW4d9Y

Let me share a secret with you: sometimes the road less traveled only leads one in circles.

"I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference."

Robert Frost

Convenient that Mr. Frost failed to mention what kind of difference, that road made.  Perhaps it wasn't a miraculously good difference- but those optimistic readers among us will always assume that it was a difference of the best possible kind.


In my experience this road can lead to the hospital over and over again.
It can lead you into being conned out of money by someone who you think is a friend.
It can leave you with a heart broken into a million, unrecognizable pieces.
It may fill you with absolute paranoia of eating anything regardless of whether it was prepared in public or at home.
It may make you question, why exactly you want to do something different, something maybe logistically much more challenging than what many others choose.


I am openly disclosing to everyone right now, NOT "ages and ages hence", this road has undoubtedly made a distinct impression on me.  I have become cynical.  I have become sympathetic to all the money mongers out there who only look out for themselves, because quite frankly this career path of "wanting to make a difference in the lives of others" is beginning to feel like a ridiculous, self-righteous goal.


It is at moments like this when I think of my favorite college professor from my undergrad studies in Communication, Dr. Miura.  In our last meeting before I graduated and moved away we chatted and said our goodbyes.  He asked me what I wanted to do, this was in 2005 mind you.  I told him I wanted to work for an international NGO etc. etc.  Insert noble plan here.  He gave me his classic sideways grin and told me, Katie, "you can't save a nation".  At the time, it was a real revelation from me since I had been planning to "save" a nation, hell maybe even an entire continent (okay I'm exaggerating).  Still, I slightly resented him for saying that.  He followed that declaration by arguing that us educated, dedicated people deserve some comforts in life like a big screen TV.  Big screen TV?!?!? I thought at the time??? How materialistic!


So to this day I still don't care what kind of TV I have, but to Dr. Miura's credit I am finally recognizing  that I really don't want to live a life of (relatively mild) poverty because I am trying to help people out of poverty themselves.  Let me be frank that poverty, though it should NOT be, does end up being fairly subjective depending on who is defining it.  I realize I am somehow digressing, but I have an example that can maybe illustrate what I am floundering around trying to articulate.


Last Saturday I went with the aunty who is looking after Jack for me to visit him and to see her friend's land in case I could start a shamba there.  Tangent alert!!!!  <<<He has grown so big and recognized me and smothered me in love!  He's growing up to be exponentially cuter than I imagined.>>>  Back to the story...
After walking around for hours in the afternoon sun up and down steep, dirt hills while being led by my friend's 12 year old daughter- we were lost.  After a few phone calls and help from the locals and walking another solid 45 minutes uphill we reached the piece of land.  It was in a stunningly gorgeous area of rolling hills with a view of the sea from some of the hilltops.  It was green, felt safe and like a little utopia unbothered by the rest of the world's troubles.  The woman owning the land wasn't there but her neighbor led us around up and down some hills to a teeny tiny corrugated iron structure that I was told was where the lady lived 50% of the time.


It became obvious that they thought I was interested in buying land, which was not the understanding I had prior.  They told me I could buy a piece of land on a steep slope near the tiny structure that would amount to a shamba of 40x70 meters.  For nearly $850 dollars.  How prices for land are decided is beyond me.  How do you put dollar signs on the Earth, the soil? Ok back on track! So the neighbor and my friend basically decided for me right then and there that I should buy the land move into this woman's second home and ta-da my future is set.  I had a sick feeling in my throat and looked at the sheets of iron acting as a roof on the shack.  They were held down by rocks slightly bigger than my fist.


This is where Dr. Miura's outlook somehow became mine in a way.  My first two thoughts were: how would I take a shower? And: there is no possible way I would get internet out here.  So there you have it.  Or there I had it.  I was abruptly confronted by the fact that although I do want to accomplish good things for people in need, I feel like I deserve to lead a comfortable life when I can.


On that note about a comfortable life, I am going to trek out to find a boda boda in the dark.  Go to an ATM then find another boda boda to take me to the hospital.  I don't even remember what point I was trying to make, but it must have been a good one.  If anyone got it, please enlighten me  : ).


Usiku Mwema To All.

BIONIC WOMAN

Today I decided I want to own doves.  I can't stop thinking about how soon I can get them.  I like everything about them, what they stand for, how they sound, their little button eyes... I may not be sure where exactly I will be living in one month.  But I know that I will have doves.

Suppose I should also mention that I am happy to be alive.  Spent an exhausting, disheartening, lonely, terrifying, maddening 5 days in the hospital.  Now that I am out, I am bursting with energy and inspiration- hope and confidence.  It's incredible what dark things having E Coli (or some other nasty bacterial infection) can do to one's outlook and self-image.  The Bionic Woman title comes from me wondering if I am bionic or radioactive now that I have been pumped full of so many heavy drugs at the hospital.

Sunday I am finally heading up the coast with a dear friend of a friend to check out his 60 acre ancestral shamba which has been left somewhat uncared for for some time.  All I know about it is that there is some sort of living space there, it is not really close to town, there is solar power and a generator and 10 or 15 goats and a number of mango trees.  Naturally, I have no clue if this will materialize into a future for me, but I am looking forward to it nonetheless.  I am already wondering what type of soil they have there and if water is available.  Two pretty crucial pieces of information and the water issue sounds questionable.

The brightest part of my day (other than feeling like 10 million bucks), was receiving an umbrella (not manufactured in China and therefore should last longer than one day without falling apart) from a dear dear dear friend in the states.  She is my hero.  Haven't opened it yet since I am waiting to get home, but it opens up into the picture of a flower with the center of the flower at the top of the umbrella.  How could one not be in a good mood while walking around in the rain with a giant flower directly over their head???  I should note that I am madly in love with this Mombasa weather.  Yesterday and today it has been balmy with some rains and the nights are cool.

I noticed some ginger had sprouted on my counter while I was away at the hospital, so I am going to try to plant and grow it.  Who knows anything about growing ginger?  I think it is a very loooooooong journey and I may not see any result.  Have to give it a shot though considering my taste for it.

Game of Change

How do I feel like I am living in the Truman Show movie sometimes?

Today, Maurice, a man with the kindest smile, fixed my Massai sandal that had busted on the side of a lively Mombasa street- in the heat- in the dust while I sat in my friend's car and we ordered food from the windows around the corner from where my sandal was being fixed.

Incredible.  Africa, if ever I have a passing thought of leaving you, you sure know how to win me over completely.

I also learned where the chenza street is (think of pile of fresh tangerines in wooden hand carts in back alleys that somehow serve as streets).

And I just realized my laundry is on the roof and I am rushing to watch a football match.

Tomorrow: relocation exploration.  The ever elusive path slow-ly unfolds.

I had a dream

That I was dancing with a new friend from here in Mombasa.  He and I were wearing motorcycle helmets and being totally ridiculous to 90s music in a small room.

That was while I was sleeping.

While I'm awake, I dream of the following and more:

Having all the elements of the sustainable life I am working toward.  Seems like there are too many to list.

Sinking my hands into soil mixed with compost and transplanting seedlings that I watched growing daily from just little seeds.

Pulling weeds.  I think there must be something wrong with me.

Running on the beach again with Jack, except he's grown up and well-trained.

Swimming in the sea and feeling the salt tickle my skin.

Teaching children to work with the Earth.  And one day teaching my own children to work with the Earth.

Becoming a modestly good sketch artist who sketches plants in their various stages of growth.

Eating American tortilla chips and homemade salsa.

Riding a camel.  I don't really want to do this, but I like imagining how scared i would be jerking forward and backward up so high in the air.

Filling my apartment with homemade flats that have seeds nestled inside them.

Hugging my grandmother again.  She is my hero and nothing compares to her hugs.

Creating a compost pile all by myself.

Building a greenhouse from 100% recycled materials.

Designing and maintaining my own seed garden and seed bank.

Learning to make more things with my hands.

Rainy weather and Johnny Cash

I realize (like all of the blogs that originally turned me off to blogging) that this blog has become less about Kenya and more about me.  Damn it to hell.  I didn't want that to happen.  Of course everything I write about Kenya will be through my filters, but I at least want to throw in some observations I've had lately about my surroundings here.

It is now easy to determine whether someone is from here or visiting based on their walking speed.  8 fresh eggs cost 96 shillings. It takes approximately 5 months to train yourself to look the right way for oncoming traffic in a previously British-colonized country.  If someone seems too good to be true, they are almost surely scamming you.  If you want to make a whole matatu erupt into laughter just correct the conductor when he shortchanges you and tell him "you! you want a soda?" in Swahili.  Eating street food is almost worth the intestinal aftermath.  Thank goodness for the Neem Tree and all of its marvels.

If you ever want to reminisce about the days of Tony Braxton, Boyz II Men, or any of those other 90s gems you might get lucky if you hop on the right matatu.  If you are extra lucky, on the inside there will be fun quotes like: "If you compare yourself to others, you'll never be yourself" and "dancing is one thing, movement is another".

Today was a National Day of Prayer in Kenya.  I still have several hours left if I want to join in I suppose.  I read in a newspaper last week that Mombasa could be underwater in just 50 years due to climate change.  Really drives the issue home.  In other news, Charles Taylor, former dictator of Liberia was sentenced to 50 years in prison.  I can't believe how many years it took to get that result.  Sometimes justice is slower than molasses.

I've fully embraced the bucket bath system and actually look forward to it now.  I can tell if there will be mosquitoes at night according to what temperature it was during the day.  I now know that if I want to boil water or cook something I need to turn the stove on 10 minutes prior.

While walking home yesterday I saw a tiny, baby porcupine dead on the side of the road.  I felt like there was some sort of message in that for me and I am still trying to figure out what it was.  I wanted to stoop down and examine it but wasn't in the mood for drawing more attention than the normal, excess amount.

When the universe laughs at you, don't fret, since you can laugh right back at it.