Becca in Kenya

2005-09-09T14:49:00.000+03:00

So much has happened this week!

On Sunday night, the British MPs arrived, and we've been on a whirlwind tour of Kenyan TB/HIV clinics since Monday morning. I've learned a ton, have seen a lot, and am ready to tell everyone about it. Except that the office is closing now, and I have to leave, so I promise to post next week, with photos.

2005-09-02T12:55:00.000+03:00

I am officially an intern! I visited sites and interviewed people and everything yesterday! I feel so...grown up!

Tuesday started at 7am, when I had to meet Mwende, who got her MPH at Tulane and is working on her doctorate from there right now. She is AWESOME! I could not have asked for a better person to work with for this project. She keep telling me she knows what it's like to be an intern, and she has been very generous with putting me in touch with people, setting up appointments for me at the sites, and giving me advice and tips for setting up and internship and getting a job.

So Mwnede and I met up Tuesday morning, then went up to her office at the National Leprosy and TB Programme, and I interviewed her boss. He gave me a whole lot of useful information. He was very candid, and even gave me some advice for travel at the end of the interview. From there I went to a TB clinic in downtown Nairobi, and it was very eye-opening. The clinic sees mainly very poor clients, and the patients are all lined up along these outdoor hallways, waiting to be seen. They all have a blank pink card that the doctor writes the prescription on. At one point I was sitting in the pharmacy, watching the process of distributing medicines. The parmacy is a little room with a table, an open window, a sink, and a shelf with jars of various pills and liquids, none with caps. When a person came to the counter at the pharmacy, the nurse read what the prescription on the card said, reached into the jar of pills with an ungloved hand, counted the pills (while still maintaining conversation with the patient), and slid the pills into a paper envelope. There were even a few pills on the floor and under the sink.

I interviewed the medical director at this clinic, and when I would write his responses to the questions, he would watch and make sure I wrote down the things he was saying exactly. I can understand that, but it's not like he's going to say "TB and HIV have gone from being close friends to being married" and I'm going to write "this guy needs to quit getting dressed in the dark." He was very diplomatic and didn't really divulge anything I wasn't expecting. But when I left the building and was waiting for my ride, a clinic doctor came out and started talking to me about the problems at the clinic. I got a lot more information from our informal conversation on the dirt road outside the clinic than I did from the medical director in his cushy office.

After that, I went to another TB clinic downtown. This one is called "STC Casino." I asked why, and it's because the clinic is free, and they try to recruit the prostitutes to come in for STD testing and treatment, and they try and find the prostitutes at the casino. Then the driver told me not to wait outside of the clinic for him, to call him when I was ready to leave and wait inside because the neighborhood is so dodgy. I went to interview a woman there, but she wouldn't even talk to me unless I had a letter from the Ministry of Health. And then she said I could wait for my ride in her office and walked away.

While I was at this clinic waiting for my ride, I was able to see people coming and going. The main reason people come to this clinic is to get tested for HIV. The way the clinic is set up, you walk into a very long, narrow waiting room. You go to the end of the long bench and sit down. As each person goes into the main part of the clinic, everyone on the bench scoots down. Once inside the main part, patients go into a room for the actual test, then sit in another waiting room that looks like a train station. No overhead lighting, just natural light from the skylit roof, rows of benches all facing in the same direction, concrete walls and floor with only a few HIV posters (in English and Swahili) decorating the walls. After about 45 minutes of waiting in the train station room, you get your results. Then you leave the clinic. There are entire families that come to the clinic, and some of them leave slowly, smiling and holding hands, and some of them leave clumsily with a glazed-over confused look. The futures for each are decidedly different.

The driver arrived to get me, in a massive SUV, with his three kids in the middle of three rows of seats. He had brought them along for the day so he could take them to the clinic and get them new shoes for school that starts next week. Poor things, having to drive around Nairobi, listening to their dad ask the white girl how much a Toyota Rav-4 costs in the US and if you make more money working for the government or an NGO. I have to say I identified with the grouchy kids, since I had scheduled myself a lunch break and was really hungry when the driver got a call to pick someone up at the UNICEF building. The UNICEF building is about 30 minutes outside of town. And when we got there, the guy wasn't even ready to go. And once he was ready to go, he brought two friends who wanted rides back to town! So we all cram into this SUV, kids in the way back, and start dropping people off in town. I finally got back to the office at 2:30, and Brian came in and wanted to talk about corruption in politics and going out on Thursday night. All I wanted to do was have lunch, which finally happened at about 3:00.

On Wednesday, on the way back from the clinic in the Mathare slum, I was in the backseat and Dr. Bartingei (the man I had just finished interviewing) and Jeremiah (the driver) were in the front seats. I was mindlessly looking out the window, not able to understand the Swahili conversation going on in the front seat. We were in traffic, and a matatu passed out my window. A little girl, probably 4 or 5 years old was looking out the window, and her mother was behind her, contorting her face with her hands. It became clear that they were making a face at me, the mazungu. When I chuckled, the mother let go of her daughter’s face, and they both started laughing. We passed them again and I got to wave at them, and they were very excited. I felt like I was on a road trip, goofing off in the back seat while the grown ups are in the front.

This was after driving through Mathare, a slum on the outskirt of Nairobi. The road is much more heavily populated by people (mostly children) than cars. In fact, it isn’t paved and is muddy, even when we’ve had day after day of gorgeous, dry weather. So we’re bouncing along through the muddy potholes, looking at the makeshift market that solidly occupies each side of the street and I hear squealing and think I make out young children saying “mazungu!!!!” That’s when I see that there are some children, dressed in rags, smiling and waving with all their energy at the pink face slowly bouncing past in the shiny SUV. I waved back and they were really excited.

We had a dinner with Dr. Gilbert Kombe Wednesday night. He’s a former professor of ours from GW and was here in Nairobi until last night. It was nice to see a familiar face and be able to talk about familiar topics. It was also very refreshing to hear someone agree with our opinions, it made us feel less outlandish for thinking the way that we do. Dr. Kombe is a favorite among students, is very personable and intelligent, and willing to share knowledge and talk to students in a collegial way instead of as an authoritarian. He’s in Nairobi fairly often, so we hope to see him again in the near future.

Yesterday morning I picked Louise from the RESULTS UK office up from the airport. She’s very nice. I hope she wants to hang out with our crazy little American clique.

Elena left this morning. Don't know yet what it's going to be like now that it's just Kaitlin, Kris, and me. Anyone wanna come visit?!?

2005-08-29T11:28:00.000+03:00

Well, the weekend is over, and all my roommates are back in town. Guess that means I have to start closing the door when going to the bathroom, stop piling things onto Kris's bed, and watching TV at a normal volume.

This weekend started with a failed attempt to see Wedding Crashers on Friday afternoon. Kaitlin and I were fired up to have lunch out and get a little Vince Vaughn/Owen Wilson love. We got to the movie theater and they said we couldn't see the move because they were still rewinding it. What?!? Did they lay the whole move out on the ground and have the intern roll it from end-to-beginning? Just another example of how life in Kenya means you can't have whatever you want whenever you want it.

We attended a champagne reception Friday night at a very nice house near where Kaitlin used to live. It was in honor of Megan and Roy who just got married. They have a really cute story. Megan is on a fellowship here in Nairobi, and is about one year through the two-year placement. She went home to Nebraska on a scheduled trip in early July, and her boyfriend met her at the airport and proposed. When she said "yes," he said "Great, the wedding's in 3 weeks!" He had planned the whole thing with her family, his family, their friends, and everything. So they got married three weeks later, and two days after that, Megan came back to Africa, sans hubby. Roy just arrived about two weeks ago to start married life in Nairobi. Their honeymoon is going to be in October, and probably in Egypt. ooh la la.

At the party on Friday, Kaitlin and I felt like little sisters allowed to go to the big sister's party. Most of the people there were early-30s and incredibly experienced and worldly. There was lots of: "The roads in Niger were surprisingly well-maintained," and "Did you go to the silver market I told you about outside Maradi?" I was sitting between two women who have done extraordinary relief work and been published in glossy magazines, and all I could add was "I think Nairobi is swell!"

Elena arrived home from Ethiopia on Friday night, and the good soul brought coffee with her. That stuff is amazing. It doesn't have the same ulcer-inducing effect of American coffee. I had some in the morning on Sunday, and didn't have anything to eat until lunchtime. Normally, my stomach would have been churning after 20 minutes, but not with the Ethiopian grind. It's more like coffee that loves you than coffee that's out to get you.

On Saturday morning, Kaitlin and I went to Westlands to Lola's house for yoga. It was very nice, we were out on her vine-covered patio, gazing out at her massive garden, stretching and bending to greet the day. The session was much more challenging than on Wednesday, and at one point Lola stopped the class and gave us a little lecture about not trying hard enough. So we got our asses in gear, and I was sore on Sunday in a wierd way - my bones were sore. I'm fairly new to yoga, and for the first time on Saturday did a shoulder stand. The sanskrit name is sarvanga-asana (see example here), and you are essentially sitting on you shoulders, elbows, and head, and your feet are straight up in the air above you. From the upside down pose, we brought our knees next our ears and then wove our arms inbetween our legs and head into inverted-ear-covering-good-luck-getting-out-of-this-pretzel pose, which is also good for keeping your jugular protected during a tornado. There are two vertebrae right between my shoulder blades that are really sore. Also, my hip bones are sore from doing bow pose while rocking back and forth. Lola said that rocking back and forth massages the internal organs and helps with digestion. Um, she must not know that I'm digesting things at warp speed...

Also on Saturday, Kris got home from South Sudan. She was sunburned, mosquito-bitten, and smelly, but happy to be back. She had an amazing experience and when she got back to Nairobi was offered a job! She's going to be doing much of the same work as her internship has entailed, which she is really fired up about. We went out on Saturday night to celebrate, and we tried to get her to buy us all drinks, but she wouldn't. Something about not being paid yet and no student loans in Kenya. Whatever.

And so the countdown begins for when Elena leaves. Her flight is early Friday morning, and she arrives in Washington, DC that same night. We're going to miss her at the Drew. Once she's gone, it will just be Kris, Kaitlin, and myself left from the clan of DC girls. It's going to seem like there's nobody left! Maybe this will be the kick in the pants we need to go out and make new friends.

For a little taste of Kenya, The Constant Gardener, starring Ralph Fiennes, comes out in the US on August 31, and part of it was filmed in Kenya. In case you just can't wait to see my photos.

I thought of two things I miss from the US: mochi and H&M.

2005-08-26T11:35:00.000+03:00

It's raining in Nairobi. Again. Kaitlin and I were going to sit poolside this afternoon and snack on gummy worms, but instead we're going to see Wedding Crashers at 2:45.

There was a very surreal moment at the Drew this morning. As I was getting ready to go out the door to work, Rahab, in a very maternal moment, said "It's raining, don't forget your jacket and scarf" as she was blankly staring out the window. [she doesn't know just how much I sweat walking to work, even on 'cold' days] So I head out the door and before I even get outside the gate, I can hear Rahab singing something low and slow. As I descended down the rest of the three flights, I could hear other women, presumably other house girls, singing the same kind of rain-induced melancholy tune. It was funereal. It made me want to stay home and drink tea and read a good book.

2005-08-25T13:38:00.000+03:00

It has come to my attention that the computer lab where I sit never gets cleaned. For the past week or so, I've been bringing in crackers with peanut butter for lunch, and I have them while I'm still working during lunch. Well, today, I was having one and I got some crumbs on my lap, so I mindlessly brushed them off onto the floor. I must do this a whole lot because I happened look down to the floor and there's a TON of crumbs down there! What do I do? Do I sweep them under Crazy Yuko's desk? I can't just leave them there! I'm so embarassed.

The internet has been painfully slow the past few days here. I said something to Brian about it and he gave me the "I'm so busy figuring out everyone else's stupid computer problems, what makes you think I've got time to fix the internet?" face. IT guys are the same all over the world. So I went back to the computer lab and farted.

Kaitlin and I went to yoga yesterday, and it was good. The woman teaches it in the back room of this Indian (I think?) restaurant that is next door to our favorite restaurant, Java House. The room was tiny but cool, it had a bunch of different carpets on the floor, and they cleared out all the chests and pillows so we could stretch ourselves all over the place. There were only 5 women taking the class, and the room was so small there were a few times when we had to shift around so we wouldn't whack each other with errant arms or legs.

Yoga always surprises me with how good it makes me feel. This was a pretty low level class, and I still got some good stretches out of it. A couple times Lola, the instructor, would come by and push on my back or hips, and lo and behold, my chin is on the floor when before only the tips of my fingers could reach. It reminded me that my body is actually capable of more than just sitting at a computer or standing around drinking beer. This yoga class was also step one in going from Nearly-Too-Big-To-Wrap-A-Towel-Around sized to Did-I-Accidentally-Wash-My-Jeans-On-Hot? sized. We're going to Lola's house Saturday morning for more.

After yoga and dinner at Java, I went home for Night 3 of Home Alone Week. It was OK, I played some solitaire and tried to watch TV. I say "tried" because it's hit or miss here. See, there are good things and bad things about the TV in Nairobi. The good things are (1) there are rarely any commercials, (2) there is nearly always a station playing music videos, (3) the occasional Sex In the City or Sopranos episode, and (4) the occasional Friends marathon. The bad things are (1) there are only 4 or 5 stations depending on the reception, (2) there is no 24-hour news channel (guilty as charged), and (3) all the stations will play the same type of programming at the same time. For instance, every night all the stations will play the news in Swahili at the same time. So if you don't speak Swahili, you can't watch TV then. Or, all the stations will play cartoons at the same time. So if you're not a kid or nursing a hangover, no TV for you.

In addition to all of this, the programs that are actually on are not guaranteed to play in their entirety. For instance, there is a constant stream of music videos on all the time. And sometimes the station will interrupt Nelly or Shakira and show part of a program. Maybe it'll go to the end, maybe not, before the vidoes come back on again. Alternatively, they will air a program when it's clearly not supposed to be on. The recent track and field chapionships were on channel 1 the entire time they were being filmed. So sometimes we got to see people doing high jump or the 800 or something. Other times, it would just be the stadium, and nobody doing anything, not even announcers chattering.

But back to last night. I flipped on the TV around 9:00 or so (that's 2:00pm East Coast time), and was ready to be disappointed, since I saw Friends and the Sopranos and Oprah already in the last week. It started out with nature specials. I learned about seals on one show and giraffes/elephants/lions on the other. After that it was some cop drama show called the Shield, which was a waste of time about some cops who were either extremely corrupt or irritatingly righteous. Following Shoot 'Em Up time, it was African documentary hour (Afro-mentary?). There was a special about genetically altered bananas in a village north of Nairobi and how successful the people were when they finally took DuPont's word for it and agreed to grow the mutant bananas [sidebar on bananas: truckers will hang a massive bunch from the part of the truck between the cab and the trailor, presumably for snack-time, or CSW payment]. After Bananarama, it was time for the English news, which is the Swahili news from earlier in the day but in English. Let me tell you, the news here is BAD. I'm sure the people who put it on work really hard at it, but they say the same things over and over and the anchors and reporters seem like they're doing the news on the CCTV in their high schools. Last night a woman anchor was interviewing a guy about the different drafts that were combined to comprise the recently released constitution, and she was giggling incessantly through the entire interview! This is the constitution, woman, get your act together. We should have Anderson Cooper come over here and do a lesson on how to be stone-cold during the news. And he can stay at my place!

I haven't started my internship work yet. The guy who I need to give me pre-approval for my work came down the hall a little while ago during the power outage and he took one look at me, slapped his forehead and promised to get me the stuff I need by this afternoon. So maybe tomorrow will I can get some work done. Before going to the Black Rose pool with Kaitlin, of course.

But in the meantime, let's talk about books. I've been reading a lot lately, and these are the books I've enjoyed:
My Sister's Keeper
The Time Traveller's Wife
Dark Star Safari
The Idiot Girl's Action Adventure Club
They Poured Fire on us from the Sky
Rules of the Wild

I just started The Russian Debutante's Handbook. It's been a little hard to get into, I think mostly because I can't identify at all with the main character, but I'll give it a chance. After this, I have to read an Africa book, because I just finished Time Traveller's Wife and you can't read more than two non-Africa books in a row while in Africa. It's a rule.

Since I don't really have anything else to do right now, I guess I'll drone on about my mundane life...if you need to get back to work or something, I won't be offended. So, in response to my recently acquired heft, I've started using this online program at www.nutridiary.com. It lets you plug in the foods you eat, and it comes back with how many carbs, fats, proteins, and alcohols you consumed. It even puts the information into handy dandy charts that tell you how many calories you consumed and how much was in each meal. On any given day, I get more than 30% of all my daily calories from snacks! I like to think that this is a weakness in the software, not me. See, they only have designations for Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner, and Snack. They don't have Pre-Lunch or Mid-Afternoon-Coffee-Break or Little-Bite-After-Dinner or Teensy-Piece-Of-Cake-For-Guy-In-Office's-Birthday-What's-His-Name-Again? times. Does anyone actually just eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner? That's so unnatural.

There doesn't seem to be anything else worth updating, so guess I'll get to work looking for post-MPH jobs...

2005-08-24T14:10:00.000+03:00

Thank god no one I know is getting married this Fall. Because there is no way I could even fit myself into a dress, dance around, and not look like two pigs fighting under a blanket. My body has taken on a completely different shape after spending a month in Kenya. To put it in perspective: I brought over a skirt from the States that was so big it was practically falling off my hips. The idea was to bring it, and leave it here to make room in my suitcase for souvenirs and gifts. Now, I can barely squeeze myself into it.

But I can explain! See, it's really difficult to work out here in Nairobi. There are gyms, but they are really expensive, and if you go there after work and the sun is already down you have to pay for a cab in addition to the daily gym fee. And jogging in town is out of the question. Apparantly people run in areas outside of City Centre (which is where we live). I'm convinced that if I were to strap on some running shorts and traipse around City Centre, I would be mugged in 45 seconds or less. Plus, the only time I saw anyone running who wasn't trying to get out of the way of a speeding matatu was this time three big white dudes were jogging, clearly unaware of the No Jogging in City Centre code, and they were a spectacle. If you're white, you're automatically going to get some extra attention, but if you're white and you're hustling around the city for sh*ts and giggles, you're a side show.

On top of the difficulty with working out, the food here is REALLY good. Granted I've only had bona fide Kenyan food a handful of times, but the Indian food and the Italian food and the Java House (read: American) food is delicious. Not to mention the wide availability of Tusker. And there is no Splenda in Kenya. Add all this up and you get Chubby American Girl.

In response to this tragedy, Kaitlin and I are going to do yoga tonight. Amusement will surely ensue, so stay tuned.

Warning, off-color comments ahead! Now, I don't want to sound ungrateful for the amazing weather we're having in Nairobi right now, but it is certainly taking some getting used to. There are a large number of Kenyans who don't wear deoderant, and when someone who is keeping it natural walks into the computer lab (remember, 10 by 12, crowded, hot computers, crazy Japanese woman), it is really stinky. Now I'm a get-in-and-get-out kind of worker. If I have a few hours of work to do, I like to sit at the computer and power through it, and this means having my lunch at my desk. And the guy who isn't wearing deo keeps on walking around, creating these foul breezes, which totally ruin lunch for me. I just don't know how to get used to this. I feel bad for feeling like this. Does this make me a bad person?

To keep with the foul oder theme, people who come into the computer lab must think that something died in here. In addition to Mr. Gamey in front of me and Ms. Chinese Food behind me, I'm in the middle farting like it's my job. This morning, the first thing that I did in the computer lab was break wind. Even before I set my bag down. And of course, immediately after that, Brian the IT guy walked in. Brian, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. I'm a muzungu and I just started brushing my teeth with tap water instead of bottled! I'll try not to let it happen again.

On a positive note, I found out today (after haunting this office for a month now) that there are no less than FOUR kitchens at FHI. And they all have coffee, tea, hot chocolate, water coolers, microwaves, the works! This could be dangerous. Already I notice a difference after having mid-morning coffee. I'm much more impatient with the snail-speed internet. I'm clicking between 7 internet windows right now, in addition to a word document and an excel sheet.

The other beautiful thing about the kitchen is that there is always an opportunity to mingle and schmooze (the water cooler effect in other lands). This may be more of an effect of the smelly computer lab (see above), but there are all kinds of people visiting the kitchen midday. I ran into the guy I'm waiting to approve this questionnaire I want to use (the Deputy Country Director, a pretty important/busy guy), and I got to chat him up about it. And once he realized that I was waiting for him to get his fanny in gear, he literally ran away from me and into his office I can only assume the scurrying was to get right on that urgent project for me. Also during this kitchen visit, I was going to get some water from the water cooler, and it was empty, and this guy jumped up to change the jug himself. I like to think it was chivalry at work, but maybe he thought I'm a weakling. Though that's ironic, given my enormous mass these days.

On to more serious things, here's an example of how detached the rest of the world is from Africa. Nairobi is a major hub for just about everything in East Africa, if not for the whole continent. It is nearly always the connection point for flights to anywhere in East Africa; the international media for this part of the continent is centered here; every NGO operating in Africa has a regional office in Nairobi (if not the main African office); and so on. So it comes as a surprise to me that not very many people know that Kenya is in the middle of getting a new constitution. A constitution is a pretty important thing for any country, and the fact that Kenya just released the draft that its citizens will vote on in December and it's not even in the Western news is demonstrative of how little Africa even registers with the rest of the world.

People don't say "bless you" when you sneeze here. So that whole soul-leaving-your-body thing must not be true.

People will randomly announce things about themselves occasionally. Mr. Roses just walked back into the lab (just my luck!) and said "I am doing alright today." Now, he's been in and out of here all day, and he has the urge to tell me, unprovoked, that he's doing ok? OK. And last week when Kaitlin and I were out to dinner, the waiter returned to our table for the 10th time that night and said "I am back." Yeah. We can tell.

2005-08-23T13:02:00.000+03:00

Overnight, the weather changed in Nairobi from dreary, drizzly, and depressing to sunny, warm and gorgeous! Literally, overnight. We went to bed on Friday after a chilly night, and when we woke up on Saturday the sun was shining like I've never seen it shine in Nairobi. And it's been that way ever since. HOORAY! I hope it stays this way until we leave.

It's amazing what a little sunshine can do for your mood. When people walk by me and say "good morning!", instead of looking at them like they're obviously trying to get me to talk to them so they can scam me and can't they see that I'm walking with a very important purpose, I say "good morning" back to them and I actually believe it. It IS a good morning if the sun is shining and you're in Africa and you have an exciting internship!

Spent my first night alone in the apartment last night. The boogeyman didn't sneak in and turn off the water heater or blow all the laundry off the porch or anything, but I did realize how subconsciously connected I am to the girls I live with. I'm ususally the first one home in the evenings, and I usually read or try to watch TV (not as easy as it sounds) until someone comes home, then the Hanging Out begins. Well, last night, Kaitlin invited me over for dinner at 7. So I went home after work and errands and was reading when I got a message from Kaitlin. It was nearly 7:30! Since nobody came home after work, I just got lost in time. Suppose I'm gonna have to start acting like an adult now that I'm living on my own. Maybe I'll get a cat while everyone is away. Or an alarm clock.

This morning, while walking to the office, I got really sweaty. The last half-mile of the walk is straight uphill. If you stay on the right-hand side of the road you don't get blown with exhaust (because the cars are going downhill and not accellerating), but you do get all the dirt and crap that they blow in their wake (because they are going downhill, and FAST). Sweaty plus Dusty equals Dirty. I got inside and my face was drenched, I had black junk in my eyes and my hair was all stringy and knotty. Is there even a point in showering and putting on clean clothes in the morning?!?

To make matters worse, the woman who also sits in the computer lab is cah-razy. Her name is Yuko, she's Japanese, and she cusses in Japanese and slams her mouse around all the time. Yesterday I opened the window while she was away and when she came back freaked out that the window was open. Are crows going to fly in and steal the files on your hard drive? And then today, she asked me how to spell "shut down." After I told her, she asked if that was the participle. uhhhhmmm...

2005-08-22T13:57:00.000+03:00

Why doesn't anyone ever comment? Is anyone even reading this?

2005-08-22T13:56:00.000+03:00

NEWSFLASH: It is finally hot and sunny in Nairobi! That's right, the sun has been out for THREE WHOLE DAYS now, and today I'm wearing a skirt, a shirt, and a sweater. No scarf, no fleece, no socks.

I was sweating so much on my way to work, it felt like freshman year at Georgia, walking out of my non-air-conditioned dorm past the stadium, PJ Plaza, the business school, the frat boys spilling out of Daddy's Yukon, all the way up the hill to North Campus to French class, and hoping nobody notices I'm drenched with sweat when I get there.

It's hard to tell if people are horrified by the slimy pink girl walking down the street here. I mean, are they staring because I'm sweating, or because I'm white, or because I'm wearing my pumas with my skirt? I tell you what, the women here must have feet of steel. Even our housegirl dresses up just for her commute in a skirt, a shirt and jacket, jewelry, and heels. Then, when she gets to our house she loses the jacket and shirt, and changes from her heels into shoes that look just like the old Keds slip ons. All the housegirls wear those little shoes. They come in all different colors, including plaid. I tried to get a pair of light green ones, but as it turns out, I have the largest feet in Kenya. They don't even make my size!

Over the weekend, we went to Karen, a suburb or Nairobi. It definitely still felt like Nairobi, but it was much less congested and polluted. The streets were lined with gorgeous bushes and trees, instead of brick walls and piles of burning trash. It was nice to get out of the city and get some fresh air, while at the same time not committing to a long road trip or spending a wad of money just to get away.

Kaitlin and I hired Moses to drive us out there and be our chauffer. He drove us to the Karen Blixen coffee garden where we had HUGE cappuccinos and eggs, toast, and yogurt. Fuel for a day full of shopping and sightseeing. First, we went to Kazuri bead store. Kazuri means "small and beautiful" in Swahili, and the store was wall-to-wall beads and pottery. It was overwhelming at first, but once we figured out that it was arranged by color and size, we were able to pick out some gorgeous pieces for ourselves and some for gifts. The beads and pottery are all made by local women, and they're not cheap, but at least you know where they came from and that you're supporting a good cause. Sometimes at the Masai Market, it seems like everyone's things are mass produced somewhere like China, and the people will even tell you they make the stuff themselves, which just isn't true. It took me a little while to realize I was being a sucker.

After the bead store, we went to the giraffe orphanage and hand fed giraffes. It was incredible! There is a treehouse-like structure built, and you walk up so you're eye level with the giraffes, who have all been rescued. You get a handfull of giraffe pellets and the giraffes will take the stuff right out of your hand. The guide showed me how to stand next to the giraffe, put my arm around her neck, and feed the pellets to her one-by-one. The giraffes are not afraid of people at all and will go from one hand to the next, just eating and eating and eating. Giraffes eat up to 75 pounds of food every day, and they sleep only between 5 and 30 minutes every 24 hours. You can also feed a warthog if you want. We didn't.

After the giraffe orphanage, we went to a place called Utumaduni, which is an old Colonial house that has tons of rooms, each with its own theme and overpriced gifts. The place was opened by Dr. Leakey, and nothing in there is unique or cheap. They had things in there for 4-5 times as much as at the Masai Market. So we used the toilet and left.

Then we went to the animal orphanage, where they rescue all kinds of animals and nurse them back to health. Thanks to Moses, we got there just in time for feeding. We saw 5 lions, 4 cheetahs, 3 lion cubs, some birds, and a whole lotta monkeys. Here's a big difference between zoos in the States and zoos in Africa: in the US, the public is separated from lions and tigers by a moat, a concrete wall, and electrical fencing. In Africa it's a chain link fence. At one point, a cheetah was pacing right next to the fence where we were standing. I could have stuck my fingers into the cage and touched it. It reminded me of pet stores where you stick your fingers into the kitty cage to touch the kitties, but on a much bigger and more dangerous scale. When it was feeding time at the cheetah cage, the guy just opened the cage and tossed in a leg of some unlucky animal (we think cow). There was literally a gang of kids (human, not goat) standing right behind him. The cheetah could have bolted and had Indian Kid ala Gap if he wanted.

While we were looking at the monkeys, right under the "Do Not Feed the Animals" sign, some kids came up and started tossing popcorn into the monkey cage. After about 10 kernels, a monkey came from out of nowhere, on the outside of the cage, and started picking up the popcorn! Kaitlin and I were totally afraid, but the kids weren't even phased. So, in Africa, there are animals on the insides of the cages, but also animals on the outsides of cages. Seems a little unfair to me.

While we were in line to enter the animal orphanage, Kaitlin and I were standing behind a family of 8 (give or take). For those of you who don't know Kaitlin, there seems to be some kind of strange phenomenon where we dress alike most of the time. It's completely involuntary and inadvertent, but we always end up the same. On this day, we were both wearing jeans, blue t-shirts, and black sandals. We are also about the same size and height, and have the same length hair. Kaitlin's hair is a little more red than mine, and she has more freckles than me. But to Africans, we are twins. So this family in line ahead of us is shamelessly turning around and looking at us and whispering among themselves about us. See, they had three kids in the family who looked suspiciously similar, and they were dressed the same, too! But, instead of just being similarly dressed in jeans and the same color shirt, these kids were wearing what seemed like costumes. They were head-to-toe denim with red, white, and blue stripes down the legs, and instead of denim sleeves, they were red, white, and blue stiped sweatshirt, which also matched the hoods. So we're thinking that they (#1) think we are twinkies, (#2) think we are muzungus, and (#3) think it's a-ok to stare and whisper about people. #1 is often true, #2 is always true, and #3 is true for them. That's definitely been an adjustment - getting used to people staring at you like you have something dangling from you nose. Most of the time people are more discreet about it, but this family was practically slack-jawed in their Canadian/Kenyan tuxedo costumes. Americans are convinced that it's rude to stare, so it's always surprising when other people who don't have any qualms about it give you the once over, over and over and over.

This week, I'm home all alone. Kris is in Sudan, Elena is in Ethiopia, and I'm stuck in boring old Kenya. Thankfully Kaitlin is in town. We're doing dinner tonight and yoga on Wednesday. Hopefully none of my muscles will snap during yoga, it's been a while. Hm, it seems like they've been gone a long time already, especially since I've been blogging about nothing, which is usually what I talk to them about.

Internship is progressing slowly but surely. Once I start making site visits, I'll surely have something substantive to say about TB/HIV. Try not to get too excited.

2005-08-18T16:17:00.000+03:00

I have good news and bad news today. The good news is that I got IM! The bad news is that since we're so damn many hours ahead of the East Coast, I'll probably never get to talk to anyone in the States. Unless you're a certain someone in Boston who gets up really early and dilly-dallies instead of getting ready for work. Also a deterrent is the sometimes sketchy internet connection here.

Another good way to get in touch with those of us in Kenya is by text message. Many of you have been sent texts from your family and friends in Kenya and either don't know how to receive and reply to these messages or are afraid that your phone is about to explode. You know who you are.

I wasn't really sure what to write about today, so I asked Kaitlin. Credit for the following topics goes to her:

Kaitlin's Point #1: People drink tea here all the time. Actually, I have to take her word for that. See, I just got an internship, and since I'm only peripherally working for this organization, they didn't give me an office, just permission to use their computer lab. But I've seen the tea here. There are entire aisles in the grocery store (called Nakumatt here) devoted just to tea. And Moses's parents run a tea plantation. Sidebar: Moses's new nickname is Mo-to-the-Izzo, and he calls the place where his parents live 'the Village,' which is really confusing because there is Village Market, Village Arcade, and about a hundred other places with 'Village' in the name just in Nairobi. But back to the tea. It comes from all over Kenya, and the variety of tea depends on where it's from, like wine. We have some at home, and I don't know where it's from, but it's really good with milk and sugar and I'm definitely bringing some home. So, when I ask you to come over for tea, do it. And bring nutella.

Kaitlin's Point #2: People here think beer (and soda and other things) taste better warm, and that goes against everything we believe about drinking beer. Because, as we all know, the best beer is the kind that comes straight out of the fridge (or the big cold place where kegs are stored) and is enjoyed while watching the Dawgs play. The beer that is enjoyed cold after the Dawgs beat teams like Tennessee, Florida, Auburn, Georgia Tech, Steve Spurrier, Half Ass Yoo, and others is also good. In fact, the beer that you drink after a Georgia W is the only kind of beer that is acceptable to drink warm. For instance, if you are at a bar watching the game where they have a $10-all-the-beer-you-care-to-drink special for only a few hours, and you stock up on solo cups of beer and line them up near the time when the special is ending (say, 8:00) - that's ok to drink warm. Just don't shoot for 10 for $10, because that might get you in trouble with the bouncers. You know who you are.

Moving on...

Kaitlin's Point #3: People hold hands a lot here, and it doesn't mean that hot guy you just met is all that into you. OK, the hand-holding I've seen here. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to trust Kaitlin again on this one, since no hot guys have been holding my hands lately. The men certainly hold hands here, and it's not like when men hold hands in the US - it's just friendly. I don't think I've seen many women holding hands with each other, and really, I don't think that I've seen many girfriend/boyfriend types holding hands, either. And the only time I've held anyone's hand here is when we try to cross the street and one of us muzungus doesn't see the speeding matatu headed straight for us, black light on and reggae up full-blast, and I've had to grab someone's hand to get them out of the street so they don't get flattened. Not really romantic.

Kaitlin's Point #4 (actually a question): Can you put Swahili curse words online. The answer is YES! See, Moses taught us some dirty Swahili words when we were watching football (soccer) last night. It was a friendly (scrimmage) between England and Denmark. Before we knew who was playing, I chose to cheer for the red team, for obvious reasons, and they spanked the white team. Red was Denmark and White was England. It's just not the same cheering for football as it is cheering for the Dawgs. I'm pretty sure that, just outside the stadium, somebody's grandmother isn't drunk from too much Jack Daniel's and shouting about the other team's lousy pass completion percentage or how their slow their backfield is. Sad, really. Anyhow, back to the Swahili curse words: we are now the proud owners of mukundu and makende. tee hee!

Addendum to Kaitlin's Points: the keyboards here are different, but they seem to work the same. For instance, if you hit Shift+3 you get the # symbol, but the keyboard says it's the sign for British pounds. And the @ says it's above the ' but it's really above the 2, just like home. Above the 2, it says you get " but that's just where it belongs, above the '. It's a good thing I was born in the 80s and have been typing longer than I've been picking out my own clothes and have my hands trained to go to exactly the right key.

Kaitlin and Kris and I have been talking about where we're going to travel in the month that we have after our internships are over and we catch flights back to the States, and we have so many delicious places to go, it's hard to focus on the work we have to do now. With destinations like Malindi, Mombasa, Zanzibar, Dar, Kampala, and Italy on the brain, who wants to talk about TB? Just kidding.

I miss everyone! Keep in touch!

2005-08-16T16:02:00.000+03:00

Hey Harry, wanna hear the most annoying sound in the world?

It's when a mosquito is buzzing in your ear while you try to sleep. And then, when you put your head under the sheets to drown out the buzzing, you have to be careful not to trap the mosquito under the sheets with you. And you have to be careful not to stay under too long, or you'll sweat so much you can't sleep. Or worse, there'll be this horrible dutch oven effect...

So...I GOT AN INTERNSHIP!! I'm working on a joint internship with an advocacy organization where I interned last summer and the lead agency for PEPFAR here in Kenya. I'm going to be gathering information about how TB is integrated into PEPFAR goals. And then I'm going to write a report and present it and finally get my MPH! woo hoo!

To celebrate, I got gummy worms. The kind with the sour sugar stuff on the outside.

But don't worry, Kaitlin and I found a place to do yoga. It's in this really cool space that is very chill. It has carpets all over the floors and pillows all around the edge, and it looks like there is some major hooka action that takes place on Friday nights. Oh, that's because it's in the back of a restaurant. So now I'm going to go and hunt down some yoga pants from the mutumba shopping stalls - this is where all that stuff you donate to XX Clothing Drive goes, and it's super cheap. Not to mention, there's this one strip of them that's next to a fruit seller who has sliced pineapple, so you don't have to work to dissect the whole thing.

That's all for now. More tomorrow. From my new Internship!

2005-08-12T13:29:00.000+03:00

Freakin' Idiot! I just today realized that the coffee I've been making every morning at home is decaf. Dang!

On the internship front, things are looking up. Of course, that could just be the caffiene making the world look a little brighter. I spoke with a former boss of mine yesterday about doing something for the organization where she works, and she turned into an idea machine. She had one idea that I thought was amazing, and then she went on to expand on that idea into something equally exciting. Nothing's final yet, but I'm hoping I can take what she brainstormed and propose it to some people here and have some work to do in my last month here. Keep those fingers crossed! Better cross your toes while you're at it, and stay tuned.

Kaitlin has been in the Aberdares all week, and is coming home tonight. WOo HOO! She invited us to go to nyoma choma with some of her work friends tonight. For you non-Kenyans, nyoma choma is a traditional Kenyan dish of roasted meat. nyoma choma means "ready meat." I think. All I know is that it's tasty, you get to drink Tusker with it, and the next day you pay the price. Just as my ETD was starting to subside...ah well, when else am I going to have the opportunity to really chance it with dinner?

Seems like I talk about food a lot. But there is a huge difference between the meat here and the meat in the US. There's a lot of goat meat, which I haven't been brave enough to try (and let's not even talk about the camel, alligator, ostrich, and python meat at Carnivore). So mostly the meat I see is chicken. And it seems so scrawny! It really becomes apparent the hormones and other growth enhancers the US uses when you see the meat here. I'm squeamish enough about meat, and you really have to work hard to get anything off the bone when you get chicken here.

To continue the theme of food, Rahab, our house girl (it's PC to say that, I swear!), is going to teach me how to make chapati today. She has the flu, and is insisting on being bent over our tub, scrubbing our laundry and cleaning up after our sloppy selves. I told her to take the afternoon off, but it sounds like I'm going to have to do some convincing. Any ideas on how to do this tactfully? Maybe be a brat and tell her to make me some tea and chapati and then send her home after lunch.

I don't know if anyone else feels this way, but I'm worried that I've already forgotten everything I learned in grad school. I mean, this is the time we're supposed to be applying all that stuff, and all I can think of is that if you have really bad hair, you probably whole-heartedly support PEPFAR. There has to be more! Why can't I remember any of those off-the-cuff real-life lessons Dr. Akukwe bestowed upon us? Or, how to create probing questions for qualitative research subjects? It's a little frightening.

2005-08-09T11:46:00.000+03:00

I am the most pathetic potential intern ever. I have been in Nairobi for a month now and have no internship. I mean, this is the land of NGOs. Aren't they starving for free labor? An able-bodied intern, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (keep your comments to yourself on this one, please) walks in the front door, begging for work, and nothing. nada. zilch. I was beginning to think it was because of my horrendous gas that came along with the ETD. But now that that's passed (ha!), there still isn't anyone willing to give me a cube. Or even a carrel. So, I made my way back to FHI, and had gone over what I was going to say, taken a few deep breaths, fluffed my hair, and...nobody's even in the office today. Just the IT guy. WHAT GIVES?!?! What's a girl gotta do to get an internship in this town?!? Don't answer that...

In other, less infuriating news, we went to Hell's Gate National Park past Saturday. Christine and I rented bikes, and Kaitlin and Kris walked. It was amazing. We were within feet of zebras, ostriches, buffalo, baboons, and some little rodent guys that are supposed to be related to elephants. I'm a skeptic, but if Crocodile Hunter says so... Hell's Gate is one of two parks where you can be on foot or bike and among the animals, instead of in a car. The animals seemed to be used to people enough not to be too frightened when we got close, and the only scary time was when we were near a herd of buffalo. But Christine gave the alpha male the evil eye, and they tundered away from us. sissies.

It was really nice to get out of Nairobi, and away from the pollution and stress of the city. We took in some fresh air, had a picnic, and took lots of photos. Unfortunately, they're all on my SLR, so don't get your hopes up for seeing them here. They won't be ready until October. And, sadly, we didn't get any of the 200 teenagers in the park for a revival. Teenagers are teenagers all over the world. But these ones were on buses on a dirt road where we were trying to ride bikes through their dust clouds. When I got home, I took off my sunglasses, and had dirt everywhere but where my glasses were. It was awesome. Of course, we had to put all our dusty, dirtly clothes in the laundry, and Rahab was probably wondering what we got ourselves into.

Sunday night, Christine left to go back to DC. We miss her terribly. It was really difficult to say goodbye to her. I think in some ways we were a little jealous, since she gets to see her friends and family, and in other ways it was sad to think that we don't get to experience Africa all together anymore. We became a team of sorts, and now we're short a member. After we dropped her at the airport, Kaitlin, Kris, Moses, and I went to Casablanca for fireside Amarula to cope. Best of luck to Christine and her husband-to-be Brian! We miss you!

And now for the most important part, the Kenyan American Football Update Jamboree, Alright! KAFUJA for short, this is the contest where whoever sends the best update of college football (namely, Georgia) wins a special prize from Africa! So put on some red and black and pay attention to the game. And remember that a telephone update is automatically eligible for an honorary mention prize! Goooooooo Dawgs!

2005-08-03T11:35:00.000+03:00

Tomorrow will be my three week anniversary here in Nairobi, and I couldn't be happier about it, except that I just saw an online ad for Wendy's and drooled a little bit on the keyboard. I wouldn't consider myself a regular patron of Wendy's, but man, the thought of a spicy chicken sandwich is dreamy.

Yesterday, Elena's parents arrived from Pittsburgh (via Chicago, London, Johannesburg, Livingstone, and Johannesburg again), and I had the pleasure of having lunch with her parents and their travel companions. Elena recommended Java House, of course, and it was nice to go there for something besides french toast or burritos. I had a GLT: Guacamole, Lettuce, and Tomato sandwich. The guacamole at Java House is probably the best guac I've ever had. Except for Mom's, naturally. I swear the avocadoes here are the best in the world. Maybe I'll pick some up to go with dinner tonight.

To continue the food theme, we had an authentic African meal on Monday night. Skye, the Most Awesome and not nice but Canadian, left to start school in London on Tuesday, so we decided to dine on bona fide Kikuyu fare. Kikuyu is the largest tribe in Kenya, and apparantly doesn't have many superstitions (we recently heard that according to one tribe here it's OK for men to whisle, but if women whistle, it means something bad is going to happen to her family. uh, sorry Mom and Dad). The food was delicious. We got to the restaurant, after being hassled by the police at yet another checkpoint, and had many rounds of Tuskers before the matron of the place brought out an appetizer of blood sausage. I didn't partake, but the rest of the table did, and reactions ranged from groaning in bliss, to gagging and mint-passing. Dinner was roasted chicken, the most finely chopped salad in Kenya, ugali (traditional Kenyan bread/dumpling/starch), chapati, and chips with Peptang (the orange, jelly-like version of ketchup here). The whole dinner took about 3 1/2 hours from start to finish, and it was delicious. And, surprisingly, nobody had any stomach problems the next day.

I'm finally feeling settled here. Still no internship, but I'm wearing some different pants today than I normally wear, and I'm hoping that'll up my chances. The roommates and I have been playing lots of Spite and Malice at night (thanks Tony and Geester), and are hopefully going to be travelling in Kenya sometime soon. It's funny, I have that I-can't-do-anything-fun-until-I-find-work mentality, even though I'm looking for something unpaid and temporary. Some habits are hard to break. Keep your fingers crossed for me, and hope that someone will give me some work soon!

Good news for Kris! She got word today that she'll be going to Sudan soon to do some work with Pact. They've resumed flights since the VPs helicopter crashed. No word yet on when she leaves, but I plan to stink up the room a whole lot more while she's away.

2005-08-01T11:14:00.000+03:00

Whatever we were taught in high school geography was a hoax. I mean, I don't know about the rest of you Americans, but I was under the impression that Nairobi was a steamy city right on the Equator, complete with sweltering heat and choking humidity. Not the case. The past two days? Rain. The past two weeks? Clouds, clouds, and more clouds.

The recent dreary weather has The Double K's and I dreaming of the beach and other tepid adventures. While we were in Lamu last weekend, we talked with Captain Bubu and all-around-business-and-candy-man Ziwa (Swahili for breast, according to Lonely Planet) about taking a dhow from Lamu to Zanzibar. How does that sounds for adventure? The high seas, nothing but the wind in your hair and your sea legs for several days, sailing down the coast of Kenya to the paradise island of Zanzibar. There's just one thing. Where do you go to the bathroom? We still have some things to work out.

In other, less liberating news, I still don't have an internship. But I've been passing my resume out all over Nairobi, and hopefully someone will validate the last two years of expensive schooling and decide I'm worthy of not paying and bestow an internship on me. You better believe I'm gonna dance like I've got Lance in my pants when I get work, and not that tame, controlled, Kenya-style dancing, either. I'm talking hands in the air, fanny-jiggling, "wooooo"-ing like the Dawgs just beat the Vols kind of dancing that only a southern white woman whose been pent up in a flat with toilet that takes six times to flush everything down can dance. Probably shouldn't let new boss see dancing.

Now that it's August, it's really starting to feel like time here is passing quickly. In fact, a few of the people who I consider fixutres here are leaving soon, and it's quite sad. By this time next week, there will be three fewer friends here. Although that will make it easier to go to anywhere after dark (what? we only need one car??), it just won't be the same going to Java House to have treated water and poke fun at missionaries. While they are probably ready to go back to their lives before Kenya, they will certainly be missed here!

Let's see, that seems like all the news from here. Kris and I finally killed that mosquito that's been buzzing in our ears all night. My headlamp was broken, but thanks to my pocketknife is now up and running again. And I just caught wind that a certain UGA alumnus has been sporting white loafers, ala Miami Vice. I don't really know what to make of this just yet, but any photos of these loafers in action (is that a barn you're shooting at?) would be gratly appreciated.

2005-07-29T11:31:00.000+03:00

15 Days in Nairobi, and here's what I have to show for myself.

1. No internship. Yep. Here's a lesson: if you work for months setting an internship and the whole thing seems a little shady, it probably is. So now I'm starting all over again, contacting people, trying to persuade them that they should put me to work (and that this horrendous gas is only temporary, see number 2).

2. ETD. Not just TD (Traveller's Diarrhea), mine has the added E for Explosive. Which, naturally, likes to send out warning shots at the most inconvenient of times. Like, in the car. And for those Nairobi novices in the crowd, you pretty much have the windows up all the time in cars so nobody gets curious and reaches in for your bag or earrings.

3. I now know what pollution tastes like. And it's gross. But since most of the cars here are so old and the Clean Air Force doesn't have a chapter here, you get to experience pollution in 4D.

4. All of my arms and legs. Cars and people co-exist in Nairobi, and really anything goes. There are only a few traffic lights in town, even fewer stop signs, and absolutely no lines on the roads. There are lots of traffic circles, since the electricity is spotty, you don't want to rely on stop lights. You think crossing a circle in Washington, DC is hard? ha!

I'll update more often once I get an actual internship. I mean, it's great to be in Nairobi and all, but since we have a lady come and clean the apartment, there really isn't a housewife role for me to play.

Keep in touch. I miss you all!

2005-07-19T14:56:00.000+03:00

Jambo from Nairobi!

Yep, it's official, I'm in Kenya now and loving it. So far it's been a lot of socializing and not a lot of working, since my boss is in Tanzania for the week. I could get used to this, just lazing around in the daytime and going out at night.

Memorable moments so far:
1) Driving home from the airport, the wheel and part of the axle of the car we were riding in flew off. Literally.

2) Friday got a phone, and went to the Nakumatt, only the BEST store in Kenya. It's like Super Target, but African. They have everything, from groceries to electronics to soldiers with rifles (a little distracting when you're trying to decide between 2 percent and skim).

3) Also on Friday, Kaitlin (whose name Kenyans have the most difficult time pronouncing, usually compromising with a choppy "Ket. Lin.") and I went walking around City Centre by ourselves. It was very liberating for both of us, since just walking around here is a little bit of an adventure. Being the only two white people for blocks means we get harmlessly ogled by pedestrians, as well as hassled by men hawking safaris (don't they know we're students??), and children begging. It's quite an experience, just being a muzungu here in Nairobi, when you pass another white person, you automatically feel like you should know them and say hello.

4) Java House. Need I say more? Java House is owned by a guy named John from New York, and it's the closest thing to American we've found. There are 3 or 4 in town, and at all of them you can get a glass of treated water instead of a bottle, not to mention a burrito, an omelet, a bagel, anything you could want in the States. We're regulars there, naturally. We met the owner when we went last night and we said he should open one up in DC, and he said it's in his long-term plan to open ones in DC, Atlanta, and NYC, but that he would "Africanize" it a bit so it has more of a niche. Go figure.

5) The Maasi Markets. We went both on Saturday and Sunday, and got GORGEOUS scarves, jewelry, and gifts. It's clearly geared toward tourists, but the things they have are really neat, so we all pick up a couple things every time we go. Expect gifts from here.

6) Moses, our driver. Always prompt and polite, and knows a really fun hotel bar where the band lipsyncs and you can dance like it's 1999 while waving a napkin in the air and shaking your tush, Kenya style.

That's all I can think of now, except that our neighbors have a rooster, and if you've never lived in Iowa (you know who you are), neighbors with a rooster is not something that is especially delightful at 4 in the morning. The people all over town are very nice, without exception. This weekend we're going to Lamu on the coast for some sun and fun.

I have a cell phone, but it's REALLY expensive to call the US on it, and less expensive for people in the US to call here, so if you want to talk (because I certainly do), email me and I'll give you the number. Same goes for mail, if you want the address, email me. I just stocked up on stamps this morning, so send me your address and we can be penpals.

I miss you all, but am having an amazing time here in Nairobi, and promise to post more often (props to FHI).

Please keep in touch!

2005-06-16T20:04:00.000+03:00

Still in DC... giddy about going to Nairobi.