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.