The Sights, Sounds ... and Smells of Delhi

Oh what a great few weeks it has been so far. Goa was a fun, relaxing party time on the beach. Delhi... has been interesting.

For the sights I got the opportunity to be shown around the city to a number of must see monuments. Many of these places date back thousands of years and the history that accompanies them is pretty interesting. The thing I love the most about these places tends to be the attention to detail. It is almost unbelievable to imagine how these buildings were able to be constructed given the time period and the technology available to them at the time. True masterpieces. I haven't been to see the Taj yet, but I can only imagine how I'm going to be blown away once again. We've also had the pleasure of meeting some young locals who have taken us out around Delhi and we've gotten the chance to see Delhi in a different way.

To be exact, I spend my weekdays out in Faridibad, a suburb of Delhi and have gone into the city on days off. A typical day in Faridibad includes waking up to a breakfast of chipatti, roti, bread or some other carb. Then the five of us girls (2 Aussies, 1 Canadian + me and 1 American) and our host brother or mother take off to the school. The first sight we are treated to is typically 40 sets of eyes staring at us none stop.  While the stares typically belong to creepy men giving us odd looks and at times comments, I really like when the women stare.  It's more of a curiousity.  I've noticed Indian people use a lot of expression in their eyes.  In a weird way you almost have a conversation with an Indian woman just by looking at each other.  It was however, slightly uncomfortable when myself and my 6ft 1in female Aussie friend stepped onto the women's only cart and felt the whole carriage staring at us.  Their curiousity is quite cute though.  It is not considered rude here, however, it still makes me very uncomfortable at times. Then we step on the busy street to see auto rickshaws, motorbikes and massive trucks zooming by us. En route it is not uncommon to have to dodge a cow, donkey or stray dog along the way. Along a particuar road there are multiple massive work ox chained to the ground waiting to get to work. And then we come to the garbage corner while we are just about to school. You can only imagine which animal loves this place the best, yup, PIGS! Typically there lies in the sludge one or two grown pigs and several little piglets. It's funniest to see when the piglets and puppies play together chacing each other around. As we pass this corner we are then treated to the sights of the children we will be teaching that day. They all approach us with a hand shake and "good morning ma'am, good morning ma'am..." until they've greeted us all. The kids are another fun sight of our days. In the mornings we work with between 5 and 20 children varying in ages in one room. Mornins are a lot quieter and give us the chance to work one on one with the children, often teaching them more challenging concepts. In the afternoon, things get crazy. Still the same small room, but over double the children, with every child trying to get their turn of attention by getting in your face, often shouting something in Hindi that I don't understand. Lets just say it gets noisy. The children have become famous in our minds for their constant "ma'am no, no ma'am" with a very serious face and the classic Indian head nod every time they are asked to do a subject or excersise they are not fond of. Ohhh the Indian head nod, something that is still confusing to me. It is a side to side nod that can mean a multitude of things like "yes we are in agreeance", "I don't understand you but I am going to pretend I do" or "you are saying something stupid, but I don't want to offend you and therefore I will agree". My guess is the last is typically the correct meaning in most circumstances when an Indian gives me the head nod.

As for the sounds of Faridibad it varies. My favourite noises include that of music, typically drums. In the evening there are parades going down the streets led my a large garbage like truck carrying a groom and his partying friends with speakers on the top blaring some sort of Hindi music. The truck is followed by a parade of men dancing, drummers thounderously drumming and then men dressed in funny looking suits carrying portable living room lamps. About every 20 minutes or so, fireworks are set off from the parade to produce a loud gun shot like bang. This happens every night, multiple times... tis the season for weddings! The hindi music blaring from cabs, rickshaws and store fronts is also quite charming, although can get over powering. But we are becoming more interested in the Bollywood music scene. The two young boys we live with constantly put it on and do the accompaning dances. We'll have to get them to show us their ways. Some of the girls are taking their love obsession to places where were not suppose to. Like in expat bars and top end locals bars it is strictly prohibited to request bollywood music, some of the girls have had to get reminders over the loud speaker that no hindi requests will be taken. The sounds I am not so fond of... the traffic. Holy moly people, if there is no where to move too, honking your horn isn't going to make them go any faster! Everywhere you go people are constantly honking. To me I would just stop paying attention to all the honking, but I guess every honk means something different. The worst honk is that off large trucks and buses. On our walk to school we are usually treated to about 3 or 4 loud, skreetching, ear paining honks from a truck right next to us. The honking I am becoming accustomed to, but the truck honk I will never be able to accept. And while the honks become fewer at night, they by no means cease to exist. Being able to sleep through the whole night in India is a goal of mine... not yet achieved.

Ah, now for the smells of Faridibad. What a glorious range. Walking down the street, past shrines and into shops you can be treated to the most beautiful smells of inscense. There is one in particular I am fond of, but I am yet to find it for myself to purchase. You of course also get the gorgeous smells of a mixture of spices coming from restaurants and street food carts. Our walk to school also boasts a variety of smells. While passing the cows and ox it is typical to smell the smell of a barn, but as a prairie girl that doesn't bother me. Occasionally wafts of urine work their way into my nostrils, especially in areas down by the metro station we catch into Delhi. On the way to school there is a particularly nasty smelling corner that is a combination of toxic varnish smells, welding metal smells and egg fart. Approaching the garbage and pig corner is another memorable smell that I think best goes undescribed.

Where we live is with a lovely host family, but it is rather basic. Even more so I've come to value the simple things. Like clean, hot, real showers (not bucket showers). We had the day off from school the other day so one other girl and myself went into Delhi to do some shopping that we wanted to get done. While cruising through her lonely planet on the metro I came accross the "activity" of going to the spa. After it was mentioned neither of us could get it out of our minds so we made an appointment for a deep tissue massage and later added mani, pedi to the list. It was glorious. After the massage we got to have a steam and then... A SHOWER!!! The women at the spa must have thought we were weird or something. I asked for shampoo and then we both took the longest hottest showers. I think we overstayed our welcome, but I have no shame. It had to be done. For three hours of blissful pampering after 4 months of travelling and volunteering, it was worth the 56 CAD.

My experiences so far in India have been great, and will only continue to change as I set out in a few weeks to travel around this miassive country. Delhi is a neat place to see, but I have a feeling India has so much more to offer and I am excited to see the changes as I change my location.

Mother India - the Adventure Begins

After leaving Dubai I arrived in Mumbai late in the evening. Spent sometime talking with some other hostel goers and then went to bed.  The next day I decided to venture out onto the streets of Mumbai alone to see what I could find out about this place before I had to head to the airport.  I wandered the streets, taking in all the traffic and honking, which was expected but still slightly overwhelming.  While I got multiple stares from passers by, I did not get as many call outs as I had expected.  And it was a welcomed change from constantly hearing "mzungu, mzungu", which was the case in Kenya.  I ran into a few break downs of communication while trying to get a sim card for my phone, so I gave up and rushed back to my hostel to get my things together and head to the airport so I could fly down to Goa for a little beach party time.

After a little wait in the Goa airport, I was delighted to see some familiar faces from back home.  Marc Deon, Thomas Siebel, Emile Nahachewsky and Brett Campbell all arrived, we got a taxi and headed to the famous Anjuna Beach area to search for a place to stay.  We ended up getting two rooms from a hilarious indian lady who was constantly yelling into our rooms asking if we want pineapple, coconut, banana, water, taxi... whatever we wanted she was going to try to get it for us.  We spent the night drinking Kingfishers in a restaurant on the beach.  Once we got kicked out of there we heard the trans music that Goa is famous for and followed the sound to a packed beach bar and danced the night away until we stumbled home, somehow finding our place and crashing for the night.

The next day was a recovery day which included shopping! We went the the Anjuna Flea market which is a massive market full of women literally pulling you into their shops and getting you to buy their stuff with some persuasive tactics.  There were so many beautiful things that I really just couldn't make up my mind on anything and ended up with a pair of alibaba pants and a skirt.  After our shopping expedition we all felt good enough to take on Kingfishers again and found a fantastic treehouse bar.  "Tantra" Was a three level restaurant with separate cubicles filled with pillows and cushions, complete with security curtains and ladders to get to the beds. Such a fantastic atmosphere, we had some snacks, drinks and wished Thomas a happy birthday!

The next few days were spent relaxing on the beaches, drinking beer and eating LOTS of curry and naan. Best food ever!  We even rented scooters and took our chances on the open India roads to explore some other beaches.  Of course given Goa's reputation for crazy dance parties there were a few late nights that took on into the mornings ending on the beach drinking chai and eating omelets made from one of the dozen women that sit outside waiting for party goers to leave.  Not a bad introduction to India, but I kept thinking... this can't be what India is like, the boys assured me I was right. 

My journey so far is one where I have taken risks, stepped outside my comfort zone and learn to do what it is I want to do.  So, with a little encouragement from the boys and a visit from the famous Marc Jacobs (Marc Deon) I got a hair cut.  Marc beautifully snipped off the right side of my hair down to the scalp so I am now rocking a badass undercut. Marc also put his personal touch on it by taking away my sideburn, thanks Marc...

Leaving Goa and the boys was sad but exciting.  It was so nice to reconnect with people who I hadn't seen or heard from in years.  India seems to have a strange way of bringing people together and bringing out the unexpected.  It was exciting though, because I started to think of all the amazing ways that India is about to unleash her craziness on me.  I can just feel like something great is going to happen in the most disguised way, I'm just waiting to see when this will come about.

I've spent the last week with 7 other girls doing some sight seeing in Delhi and Hindi lessons with our host, Dr. Bandhu.  There are 5 girls from Australia, one from the states and one from Canada, Prince Albert Saskatchewan to be exact, can you believe it! There is even another girl we met at the airport doing the same program from Moose Jaw, what are the chances! I hadn't met a single person from Sasky yet and already in my program are two others.  The old Indian architecture is amazing and beautiful, I love imagining how much work some of these temples took to achieve the beauty that they are even today.  Learning Hindi is tough, but I'm hoping to catch on to more of it as time goes on.  Today we get to see a Bollywood movie, I'm pumped! And then tomorrow I head to my new home stay and monday start my volunteer placement that is meant to be working with women.  I'll keep ya posted as to how it goes!

Saying Cya Later to my New Love

Oh what a bitter sweet week it has been saying good bye to the place and people that I have fallen so deeply in love with, while getting excited for the next leg of my journey.

I started the week after returning from my trip from Kisumu, which wsa amazing.  I got the chance to meet such amazing and inspirational people, and do some sight seeing as well!  I took some time to tour the Kakamega rain forest which is home to too many species of trees, plants and birds to count. Along with monkeys too! It was nice to be able to hike through such a beautiful and fresh place.  The highlight was my hike up to the highest point of the forest in the dark at 5am to see the sunrise. Amazing, beautiful African sky.  Then went into a cave 50m long.  My guide told me there were bats, and then all of the sudden I could feel them zooming by.  I kind of screamed a little, trying to duck and dodge the bats.  My guide laughed at me, asking why I was scared, and telling me the bats won`t touch me, don`t  worry.  Easy for him to say.

After getting back `home` to nairobi I basically was hanging out, trying to see as many people as I could to say good bye.  Spent a few late nights out enjoying Tuskers as well.  One of the days I headed out to the IDP Camp to interview some secondary students to see if we can try to get them sponsors from back home so they can continue their education.  While there I got some terrible news... almost half of the chickens we had bought for the second batch of families had all come down with some disease, likely somehting they had before and died... UH! But what can we do, I was leaving in two days and there was no way we would be able to buy new ones in time.  I feel terrible that now some families have to go without, but hopefully we can help in the future.  This is maybe alearning experience, so next time we can be more careful and ensure we inspect all chickens so one doesn`t get the rest sick.  I bought the group medicine to ensure the rest of the chickens dont fall ill and die also.

My last night in Kenya I wanted to be a traditional Kenyan evening.  We organized a night and got a bunch of the local staff and volunteers to go out for some good ole fashinon Nyama Choma complete with all the fixings. SO GOOD! We ate a million kgs of goat, beef and the most delicious chicken I have ever tasted.  Such a perfect way to spend my last night, but so sad as I had to say good bye to so many of the people there, especially the Fadhili staff who had been so amazing the entire time I was there. 

The next morning I left the house earlier than I needed to because I had a bunch oif errands to do before going (one including picking up my passport from the high commission of India, maybe important for the next 6 months). Saying good bye to my mamas was the worst.  It made it feel so much more final that I was actually leaving Kenya.  The moment I said goodbye to Milcah and gave her a hug I couldn`t hold it in anymore and sobbed like a little girl.  The both hugged me and told me not to cry, just like my real mama would do.  As sad as I am to be out of Kenya, I think maybe it was time.  I will miss it terribly, but I am excited for what the next chapter of my adventure holds :)

Adventures with Visas

Maybe it`s the procrastinator in me, or the optimist that assumes everything will always work out… but in 4 days I have had two close calls with not being given visas to enter two different countries.

My first adventure began with the Indian Embassay.  Even before leaving Canada (another vias experience I did at the last minute), I realized the visa I had been issued from Vancouver for India was going to expire in April, while I expect to be in India until May.  But at the time I assumed once I get to india I will simply be able to extend it.  Luckily, the Monday night beofre I left I was looking through my India travel guide and happened to read the visa portion and read that India doesn`t extend visas under any circumstance and a person must leave the country for two months before being issued another.  Another girl in the house who had already visited India said oh yes, India is very strict. Hmmm.  So the next day, Tuesday, I ventured to downtown Nairobi set to the High Commission of India. Along the way my brand new sandle broke… in downtown Nairobi.  No biggy, after some slicing and dicing with my trusty Swiss Army knife, I got it to function enough so that I wasn`t walking around bare foot. But the fact that I was walking around downtown Nairobi with a sandle barely staying together may have been an indication of how the rest of my day might unfold.

Explaining my issue to the men at the front desk they sent me to the visa office and told me to queue up. Getting into the queue at the visa office was confusing enough, but a nice young Indian man explained it to me, saying it`s the indian way.  There are rows of chairs and as each person goes up you move over a chair until you snake your way through to the front.  I rather enjoyed getting to sit while having to wait in a ridiculously long line. After making it to the front I was told that I was in the wrong line and would have to talk to the guy in the office.  After waiting more, I was met by a not so smily man who kept interrupting our conversation to answer the phone, in between which he told me there was nothing he could do.  I would have to either leave India for two months  once my visa expired and then go back or cancel my current visa, apply for a new one and wait.  No problem except the fact it would not be ready until Tuesday and I was reading out to Dubai Friday. After the man repeatidly told me there was nothing he could do, my eyes started to well up and all I could say was `nothing... there is nothing...`Seeing that I was clearly upset, he said he would let me talk to his supervisor who would likely not be back for an hour, and this was already after closing hours. But I was desperate and waited again.  Once again I was met by an even less smily man and the first unsmily man.  This man did not really listen to what I had to say.  Instead he lectured me on why I should not have applied for my visa so long ago, then about how I should have done this earlier and then about how inconsiderate I was for  coming so late (even though I had been there since 2). After agreeing with everything he said and admitting my own fault of putting it off and not fully understanding how the system worked, I was once again told it was impossible.  He said a few more lectures, and it was at this point that I couldn`t hold it back anymore and tears started coming down my cheek.  I reached for passport, squeeked out thanks for seeing me and started to leave. `Wait, wait, wait`says the second unsmily man.  After figuring out what time exactly I had to be out of Nairobi on Friday he agreed to ensure that it would be ready in time.  Also telling me that I shouldn`t cry.  As the other gentleman was helping me fill out my forms he asked why I didn`t just telephone to try and sort things out.  I didn`t want to say because clearly coming in and crying helped me get my visa easier than if I had just cried over the phone.  On my way home, two blocks from my apartment my sandle broke again.  The sweet Indian watchman at the hotel nearby saw my struggle, came over fixed my sandle and even wired it up so I can continue to wear it.  Oh, if all Indian men are this sweet I`m gonna be in for a treat.  After having to bring in other documents the following few days I began to be known at the high commission.  Luckily this meant no more lines as I was allowed to go right to the source JAnd as I was leaving the building Friday morning with Visa in hand the stern female security guard said with a smile, `finally you got it`.

Then it came to Dubai, Sharjah actually, to get my visa… I thought I had looked into the requirements and saw that I could purchase my visa upon arrival… but as I approached the immigration counter and handed over my passport, the woman looked at me and said where is your visa. Shit. Now what do I do! I was able to ask about a transit visa since I was only there for the weekend.  I had to wait another 3 hours but they gave it to me! I got into Dubai at 2am to my posh hotel and went to bed... in my own room! 

Maasai land, more chickens and a new found love of ugali?

It's been an eventful few weeks, brace yourself, this is a long one.

Sadly, I am starting to fear that my Kenya adventure is winding down as I have only 10 days left in this beautiful country filled with beautiful people.  But that doesn't mean I'm winding down, in fact it is the total opposite!
My New Years was a jolly ole time spent at a outdoor type local bar with plenty of other volunteers and even more locals.  Once the festivities ended I wasn't exactly tired so I continued on with some of the local staff here.  We danced in up in a small, crammed even more local bar and finished the night off with nyama choma and ugali.  Likely the best choma and ugali I've ever had! I don't know if the fact that it was 4 am had anything to do with it.  For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of trying ugali, it is maize flour mixed in with boiling water to create a doughy pasty type cake that is eaten with meat, beans, kale, whatever really.

I started the new year off by switching volunteer placements to go out to maasai land, Saikeri to be exact.  I headed out there with Aussie Jane and American Colby, both very fine people, happy to be stuck with them :).  Our host mom, Maggie, is the head nurse at the government run clinic.  We also had Marcy who cooked all our meals for us, and showed us how to make chipatti, and her precious son Jabeth who just started preschool.  We were meant to be teaching, but since we aren't trained teachers we basically spent our days marking papers and giving extra help.  The fun parts came at break time when all the children would run up to us, stroke our skin, grab on to our hands and start to grill us with questions. "What's your name? What's your Maasai name? How old are you? Are you circumsized?" The last question was one that threw me off a little.  I explained to one boy who had asked that we don't do that in my country to girls because it is very dangerous.  He replied by telling me that my country is unsafe since we don't circumsize our girls... a clear cultural difference.  Maggie, our host, has a few words to say regarding this topic.  She is such an inspiration and leader in her community.  She is all about female rights in the Maasai community, making sure they are educated and letting them know their rights.  She even presented us with a great idea about turning one of the buildings into a boarding school for girls.  Many girls in the community walk for hours to and from the school.  This is a very danergous time, they are not educated about their rights about sex, nore do they know what sex really is and it's consequences.  The danger comes when they are approached by young men, and do not understand what is happening or how to say no.  Maggie told us that last year alone 7 girls dropped out of primary because of pregnancy. Thats grades 8 and lower.... I will keep you all posted on the progress of the planning for the boarding school in case you are interested in getting involved.

When the children asked what my Maasai name is, I would respond with the name I was given my first night in Maasai, Nosim.  I had to laugh a little when one of the school children, Margret, told me my name meant "someone who is always talking".   She explained that as long as I am around people I will be talking, and when I am alone that is the time I sleep. I don't think this name suits me at all. Margaret is another child that I got to know a bit more.  She was so welcoming and invited Jane and I out to her home to meet her family.  Of course we were greeted with chai by her mother, sister, uncle, step mother (father's second wife) and step brother (half brother).  All the children were so incredible out in Maasai land, so welcoming and so friendly.  After my two weeks were up the children of the class presented me with the bracelets and necklaces they had made for me and sang and danced for me, it was great.  I'm already missing Saikeri, the surroundings were absolutely breathtaking with clear stary skies at night and crisp fresh air to breath.  I will also greatly miss the people.  I loved going to the market on Tuesdays and Fridays just to see all the beautiful colours worn by the women.  The women there would always be outfitted in colourful Kangas, their stretched ears showing off the beautiful beaded earrings and theirs necks and arms covered with bright beaded jewelry.  Maasai land really confirmed the fact that I am not a city girl, and getting away from Nairobi made me MUCH happier.  Saikeri was peaceful, with afternoons spent reading and writting and then in the evenings playing a card game called "flower" with a big, burly, lovable Kenyan names Henry.  While the bucket showers and squat hole in the grounds didn't bother me, it may by the one part about Saikeri I will not miss.  At the end of the two weeks I made my way back to Nairobi via bodaboda (motorbike) along a very bumpy, rocky gravel road sans helmet, TIA.

I didn't stay in Nairobi long, the next day I was off to Mai Mahu at 6:30am to meet Rooney, the Kenyan man who had been helping Sam and I collect chickens back in December.  Saturday it was our mission to supply the remaining 30 families with 3 chickens each and buy a few extra for the nursery at the IDP camp.  A few hours later, combined with some Kenyan inefficiency, we got to the market...late.  Meaning that the bulk chickens had all been sold and now we were left to round up 100 chickens from all the men who would now be sell them 3,4,5 at a time.  We spent hours in the sun, but were able to get all 100 chickens that we needed, ensuring that we had the right number of males and females as each family was getting 2 females and 1 male.  We loaded our 100 chickens into the back of a Toyota corolla hatchback and headed off the the nearest town where we then transfered them into the boot of a matatu and strapped to the roof.



Because the market took so long we didn't get to the camp until after dark, but we were still met by smiling faces happy to welcome us back.  I spent the night in a nearby town and made my way back to the camp early in the morning to pass out chickens.  The people there were so greatful, as their names were called and they were handed the chickens they would turn to me in thanks.  Now I am passing this thanks onto all of those who contributed to my fundraising efforts.  I could never have funded this project on my own, and I am so grateful that everyone back home has contributed to helping to improve a the members of a community's lives.  All together we purchase 153 chickens with 4 unfortunate casualities and 5 gone lame, but all families still got their 3 chickens each. But the thank yous did not stop there.  I got the chance to go around the camp and see how some of the chickens were doing which we had gotten for the previous families.  Many have gotten to eat eggs and some had already even laid chicks!! EXCITING!  When I asked Rooney how many people ate chickens for Christmas dinner he looked surprised and exclaimed "none! I told them not to and that I would be checking to make sure they were using them for eggs and more chickens." Yeah to Rooney and the people for seeing how these chickens will continue to benefit them in the long run!

  < Young Rachel carring home a new chicken

While passing out the chickens, a young man from the camp shyly came up to me and asked to speak with me in private.  He told me about how he had been sent home from school last week in the first week of school because his parents were unable to pay the 13,800 Ksh (about 160CAD) for first term of his form 3 (grade11).  He asked if I may consider sponsoring him, so I said let's talk and followed him to his family's tent.  I was greeted by both his parents, who neither have a job at the moment and survive off of very little.  However, these people were SO welcoming and wanted to give me what little they had. I was handed a cup of chai and a tea biscuit, a typical breakfast for them.  They handed me his school forms and report card to look at.  It brought me back to the reality of these people's lives when under the line "Parent's Assets:" the word "nothing" was written. I looked at his straight A report card and immediately knew that this boy had to go to school.  He is the youngest of 7, and will be the first to complete secondary if he makes it through form 4.  One of the worst parts about it is that he almost made it through form 3, but since his fees were not paid in full he was unable to write the required exams to enter form 4 and therefore must do form 3 again.  But today I deposited 26,600 Ksh into the school's bank account to pay for the rest of his form 3 year.  I have outlined to him that if he performs well, and gets good marks I will sponsor him through form 4 as well.  This is once again thanks to everyone else.  You are educating someone who would otherwise have to unvoluntarily drop out of school.  It  has become SO clear while I am here that the BEST way to help Africa is to educate their young people.  This was all so inspiring to me that my brain started to do some turning and I am thinking of ways that we will be able to send more of the children from the IDP camp to secondary, because Isaiah's family is not the only ones in this situation. 
 < 18 year old Isaiah and his parents in the tent they have been living in for 4 years.

When I first got to Kenya with my pocket full of fundraised money I kept searching for some fantastic way to spend it, but was coming up empty handed.  Through working with the people at the IDP camp I have learned that instead of looking to be inspired, you simply have to listen for it.  People will tell you what they need, whether directly or indirectly.  While I thought I was entering every situation with no expectations and my ears wide open, I wasn't.  It wasn't until recently that I have actually started to do this and I am having the most incredible feelings and inspirations all around me!

As I was leaving, Esther, one of the women from the camp who weaves purses wanted to know when I would return to Kenya because she wanted to make me a special bag.  Since it likely won't be for about a year or so she gave me one she had already made "a year is to long!" she said.  She literally has nothing but wanted to give me a gift to show her appreciation. These people are too much for me, I cannot get over their overwhelming kindness and welcoming spirits.

It breaks my heart that these wonderful people are forced to endure such unbearable conditions all because of the tribal conflict and post election violence 4 years ago! And now they have to fear what will happen in the election that will be happening at the end of the year.  They constantly say they can only pray and hope for the best.

After getting home Sunday afternoon, I was off again Sunday night on an overnight bus to Kisumu! In case you are wondering I have been doing these excursions as a solo traveller, but I have been very safe!  I arrived to the bus station at 5am and because it was still dark i caught a few extra hours of sleep in the secure waiting room.

The reason I came to Kisumu was to visit a community support center for orphans and children who have been affected by HIV/AIDS, called St. Rita. I got a chance to meet Bernadette Otieno, the inspiring woman who started it all. She told me how they offer support to these orphans in the way of uniforms, school fees, books and feeding programs when the funds allow for it.  I also got to meet a new friend, Naomi who is a recent social worker graduate who volunteers with St. Rita simply because she loves children.   Later in the day Naomi and I ventured down to the shore of Lake Victoria, the source of the Nile.  The shore is lined with tin shacks, boasting plastic furnite and loud women shouting at every passer by to come into their restaurant. There we ate fresh Tilapia, with skumaweeki and ugali.  Yes, I ordered the ugali willingly, and I enjoyed it! Strange things happen once you've been in Kenya for a few months.  While we enjoyed the beautiful view and semi-relaxing atmosphere, I couldn't help notice the issue of street children.  Some looking as young as 11, seen huffing glue to get drunk and acting as if they have no clue what is happening.

 I also met Ruth, an HIV positive woman who is the mother of 7 and her last born is in the St. Rita program.  She told me of her struggles with her husband, who liked more than one woman as she put it.  She used to fight him, until one woman told her it's best to just go along with it, do what he says  and stay out of his way, or she'll die.  While her husband has passed, and those troubles are behind her, she still faces difficulties everyday trying to put food on the table for herself and her older children.  The principle of the nearby school also told me of a young girl who has just completed her class 8 and is waiting to see if there will be enough money for her to go to secondary.  She is a bright girl who scored 403/500 (a VERY good mark) who has been dealt a tough hand.  She lost her mom when she was 7 months, her father when she was 4, both of her sisters and then her guardian who had taken her in.  She now lives with her grandmother and works at a makeshift restaurant.  I also met two young boys who's mothers are living positive.  When I asked them what they liked to do in their spare time they told me they enjoyed cooking and cleaning and taking care of their mothers. Not the answer I was expecting from 11 and 12 year old boys.  St. Rita has helped these children in so many ways, and I love that their major emphasis is EDUCATION, EDUCATION, EDUCATION.  They have even assisted some of the kids through university.  While most organizations stop helping once the child is 18, Bernadette says she sees no benefit to that, you must continue the support as long as the child works hard.  She has truly changed lives, but like all organizations they are constantly in need of funds, let me know if you want to help, or check out their website, www.strita.info/ . I had a tough time listening to everyone's stories, as their challenges and struggles are of a nature we would rarely see in Canada.  I've learned I can't assist everyone, but I can't help but feel helpless when I am being told some of these stories.

Naomi and I spent more of our time sitting by the lake and just hanging out.  While Kisumu is a city, it has a much calmer feel to it than Nairobi, and that I appreciate about Kisumu.

I could continue to describe more of my experiences, but I think I've gone on long enough for now.  Heading of to the Kakamega rain forest tomorrow for a more touristy experience.  Fill ya in later!

A Sunny Christmas

Merry Christmas to all!
My Christmas this year was very different from all my Christmases before, but a good expereince.  These last few weeks leading up to Christmas have been rather quiet.  The weekend before Christmas I set out to the Coast to experience Mombasa for a few days and have a little relaxing time.  We stayed in this cute bambo, wood and stone decorated cottage complete with an outside shared kitchen.  After taking an eight hour overnight bus we were greeted to a breakfast overlooking the beach, complete with pina coladas and Tuskers (Kenyan beer).  Well, only after I insisted we finish taking out the braids in my hair which I had been working on since the day before.  Mombasa time was spent walking up and down the white sandy beach, laying in the sand out in the water in the low tide, eating our faces off and seeing Nemo while snorkling!

After returning from Mombasa, the rest of the week has been rather quiet.  The children at the orphanage have all gone off to family and friend's places for the holidays so there wasn't much to do around there.  Later in the week the founder of the Kibera tour program I have been volunteering with arrived in Kenya from Toronto.  He is looking to move onto the next phase of the project by starting up a workshop to train members of the program in various skills to offer them a way of generating a steady income.  It is all very exciting to hear his plans for the future and to make changes to allow the program to run better.

The Christmas weekend was a quiet one as well compared to the welcomed chaos I get at home.  Christmas Eve I made my traditional meal of perogies, borscht and mushroom gravey for the volunteer house.  I think they enjoyed it...I did anyway, and my first attempt at home made perogies turned out pretty well!  The next day I woke up to Christmas morning and had my usual  breakfast of toast and instant coffee, already a difference from what Christmas at home would be like.  I then went to church with one of my host mamas, and really for the first time in Kenya I started to feel like it was the Christmas season.  I had been trying to get into the Christmas spirit earlier, but it had been difficult as it is not nearly as commercial here as it is at home.  Although, this wasn't exactly a bad thing.  As we walked up to the church you could already hear  the music from the choir and all the people singing along.  Getting into the church you could feel the energy of everyone there, and how happy they were to be at church on Christmas morning.  Song after song was sang, some familiar Christmas carols, some gospel songs.  As people sang they swayed, danced, lifted their hands in prayer and allowed themselves to just be free to worship the way they felt.  It was so different for me as I am used to such a ridged, structured and standard way of worshipping back home, but I loved it!  The service was done very much the same way; children, teens and young adults were called up at random to lead the church in prayer.  It was organized randomness, where the pastors could run the service the way that they felt was right for the moment.  Leaving the church you could feel the happy energy from everyone as they bounced out of the building, thankful for what they have and off to get Christmas lunch ready.  Walking around was different as well, the streets were much calmer and everyone you passed said a Merry Christmas with a smile.   It was also different not to mention because it was sunny and 25 C outside.

As soon as we returned to the house the host mamas got right to cooking.  Our menu consisted of chicken (kuku), mashed potatos with peas and corn (mokimo), fried cabbage, rice, beans and carrots, chipatti, salad and fruit salad.  So just like home, it was a feast!  For the rest of the day we layed in a food coma and later played Monopoly, just as I would have at home.

It was a neat experience to be in a place where the emphasis wasn't on presents, decorations, extravegant Christmas parties and so on. People don't wake up early to rush and open what Santa has brought.  While that is fun when I'm at home, I saw what the true meaning of Christmas is suppose to be.  Presents aren't an emphasis here as most families do not have additional income to spend.  Instead they focus on travelling around the country to ensure that they can get together with their families and have a great feast, which is really my favourite part about being at home too.

I missed my family terribly during the holidays especially, but I think spending a Christmas away will just help me to apppreciate my next Christmas home that much more and focus on what really matters while I'm there.  I'm looking forward to the new year as well.  I'm excited to see what 2012 will bring me.  My plan is to move out to Maasai land in the beginning of January for two weeks and spend my time teaching english and living a more simple life without water and electricity.  I will keep you updated!

Chickens for Everyone!

Once again a huge thank-you to all those who contributed to the fund raising I did before I left.  Some of it has started to be spent but there is still plenty more to go around! Another volunteer and myself spent the last two days travelling all around Kenya gathering 52 (was 53 but one didn't make the transportation) chickens and delivering them to an IDP camp to the families. After visiting the IDP camp a few weeks ago we started to think about what we could do to help that would allow the family to have steady food and possibly a source of income.  We decided that chickens would be the gift that would keep on giving!  We were introduced to a man from the camp named Rooney, who was extremely helpful, as well as open to sharing his experiences after the post election violence in 2008.  He started to show us different options and after realizing that all chicken guys in the city were very expensive he took us on a journey to buy them from a market in small town Kenya.  When we first got to the town we passed by people dressed in traditional Samburu dress which was interesting as it was the first time we had seen it when it wasn't just for tourist.  We then trekked through some bush and grass to get to a Samburu tribe's village which was set in the most STUNNING area.  Along the way we met some of the men from the village dressed in traditional wear, but we were not allowed to greet them by hand as they had just been circumcised and it would be unclean.  At the village we stood around as the children and women ran around to snatch up the chickens for us to buy.  This wasn't the easiest of tasks as the chickens are used to running free.  We payed the people and left, literally carrying our chickens in our hands, 17 between the 4 of us.  We then headed down to the road where we were met by men on bicycles carrying about 10 chickens in a crate on the back.  Since they knew we were buying, men on bikes kept coming and soon we had 36 more.  After paying the men to help us get them back into town we loaded the chickens into the matatu (mini bus) trunk and drove to the larger town where we got a taxi to take the chickens the rest of the way to the camp.  Pulling up to camp we were meet by excited children who were even more excited when they saw we had chickens.  Slowly people came out of they're tents and over to us where we passed out two females and one male chicken to 17 families.  We assured them that the rest of the 42 families would be getting chickens after the holiday season.  People in Kenya typically eat chickens at Christmas time so the price goes way up and supply goes down.  I will make a trip back there in January to buy and distribute the remaining amount.  Everyone at the camp was very happy, even those who didn't receive a chicken because they knew it was a good thing for the community.  They sang and danced their "happy" dance.  One vivacious women named Lucy came over to us and blessed us by holding our hands, spitting in her shirt and then looking up at the sky and saying something in Swahili.  I was told it was a good thing.  It was an amazing experience and I am so grateful to everyone who gave to allow me to be the one to bring these people something that may make their lives a little easier.  They say thanks as well ;)

In the last few weeks I also went on safari and had the best time!  We didn't see the big five, but did see lions, cheetahs, elephants, buffalo, zebras, giraffes, wildebeests, antelope, gazelles, and tons of other types of animals.  The highlight was definitely seeing three cheetahs kills and eat a dyck dyck (small deer). Pictures will come soon!  We also got the chance to go to a Maasai village to see how they traditionally live.  It was a little played up for tourists but still interesting to see.  They live off of a diet of blood, milk and meat.  To get the blood they shoot a special arrow into a cows neck just to puncture the skin, but not do any damage.  They did this for us and then offered us a sample of the blood.  I've been told it's rude in Kenya to refuse something offered to you, so a took a taste. It was nice and warm which was welcomed on a cold evening.

Last weekend a friend and I ventured out to Mt. Longonout which is a senile volcano a couple hours outside of Nairobi. We hiked to the rim and as we got there it started to rain, thunder, lightening and hail.  But we were already wet so we did the 2.5 hour hike around the rim anyway.  It was cloudy for the first hour and we couldn't see anything.  As we made it to the summit the clouds cleared and we got the most beautiful view!  The rest of the hike was full of amazing views of the lush, green, Kenyan surroundings.  The next day we were going to visit potential chicken dealers in a near-by town so we stayed the night at a cute lake-side cabin.  Before checking out chickens the next day we went on a boat ride and saw hippos fighting outside of the water which was very neat to see.

Life in Kenya has been full of so many more interesting experiences but I would just continue to ramble if I went on.  I love the things I see, meet and hear in everyday activities.  I love being open to meeting new and interesting people and hearing what they have to say, even when sometimes it ends with "now can you give me 100ksh".  Yesterday I even got a marriage proposal from Solomon who fell in love with me instantly!  I said no, don't worry mom. 

Talk soon!