Safety Last...

This is a picture of some wall sockets at my organization I am working at.  If you look closely at the plug-in on the left, there really is no plug-in.  There are only 2 wires going into the wall socket.  Not very safe...at all.  This is a really obvious fire hazard, but when I mentioned it to others I received a very typical Kenyan response, "It's ok!  No problem!  Not a fire hazard...very safe!" with a big smile.

I think within the first 2 days of being in Kenya,  I realized that safety is not a concern at all.  At the gas station right by my house it is common to see cars fill up their tanks with their motor running while the driver smokes a cigarette.  Another day at my organization, I heard crackling sounds from the wall sockets with sparks flying but nobody seemed to even notice (again, when I mentioned this, I received the typical Kenyan response, "It's ok!  No problem! Not a fire hazard...very safe!" with a big friendly smile).  Another time, I was holding on for dear life on a motorcycle going 60 mph because I was on the very edge of the seat of a motorcyle carrying 5 people.  I suggested that we probably should take 2 motorcycles, but again, the response was, "It's ok!  No problem!  It's very safe!"

Here is an up close picture of the wall socket above.  As you can see all it is is 2 wires plugged in to the wall. One of the wires came out so they asked me to put it back in.

This reminded me of the time last week when I went to the barber (he gave me a horrible haircut-he gave me a fade-here's an example if you don't know what a fade is:  http://v3.kevincarrollkatalyst.com/images/uploads/fade_Full.jpg) and when one of the wall sockets stopped working he jammed a screwdriver into the socket to get it going again.  I asked him if that was safe and the response was, "It's ok.  No problem.  Very safe," with a big huge smile.

This is a picture of the van we took to Malindi.  Malindi is a resort town 2 hours north of Mombasa.  It is popular with Italian tourists.  This is a result of a lack safety precautions.  In this van, the driver (the driver was Ana, the Swahili teacher from my first post, she owns a travel company) thought it was a really good idea to go over a huge rock.  Everyone (all of my fellow interns participating in my program) else thought it was an awful idea.  Especially since we could hear the bottom of the van SCRAPING against the rock.  After we went over the rock, we could all hear that something was wrong with the axle and the tire.  When we mentioned this to Ana, her response was, "It's ok.  No problem.  We'll be fine," with a huge smile.  The wheel came off 30 minutes later while we were on the highway.

I don't think Kenyan people have a sense of consequences.  They truly live in the now.  Coincidentally, the person that taught us that Kenyans have no sense of the future was our driver, Ana, during one of our Swahili classes.  She taught us that future tense only recently came in to the language.  She told us one of the reasons Kenya is impoverished is because there is no planning for the future.  I think she proved herself right.

The van at a distance.  The wheel that fell off is shown too.  The pile of leaves are the road flares.  Each time a car blew by the leaves would be swept aside and the driver would have to start a new pile of leaves so people would try to avoid hitting us.  

After we waited for a while, we decided to take public transportation to our destination.  We took a public bus (called a matatu-I will try to talk about these in a later post), which was about the same size as our van except that it had 23 people packed in (like 5 people were clinging to the van from the outside, riding on the bumper) to the van that comfortably sits 9 with very loud reggae music pumping through its sound system.  Some guy brought some rotten fish aboard and it smelled awful, but the only people that seemed to notice was us white people...

The damage done to the road by the axle of our van.  There was about a mile long scrape mark in the road from when our tire came off.

Maasai Village!

2 weeks ago, I went to visit a Maasai village during our safari in Maasai Mara with the other people participating in my program.  It was incredible.  These are some photos from the trip

Here is a picture of a hut in the Maasai village.  It is made out of cow poop, wood, mud and hay.  Even the roof is made out of cow poop, wood, mud, and hay.  Apparently cow poop is pretty water proof.  The women of the village build the homes in the village while the men like to sit around and talk about the good times they had and make fun of the various white people visiting their villages.  

On a side note, the dirt in front of the house is not dirt.  It is cow poop.  The entire village was covered with cow poop.  I have never seen so much poop in one place in my life.  Poop was everywhere.  Dry poop, wet poop, any kind of poop EVERYWHERE.  The dry poop turned to dust and was floating everywhere.  I was not only covered by poop dust, but also breathing in poop dust.  Our tour guide did not mention there is so much poop in a Maasai village so most of the group, including myself, was in sandals (her excuse was typical Kenyan, "It's just poop.").  One girl in our group was in high heels walking through the poop.  

The Maasai decided to greet us by singing a traditional song and doing a traditional dance.  Their song consisted of the men saying a deep-throated "HOOOO!" in various tones over and over again.  Their dance consisted of jumping up and down as high as they can.  Apparently in this culture, the higher you can jump, the less of a dowry you have to pay to your future wife's family.  

In this photo, they decided that I should dance with them.  They put a traditional Maasai cloth over me (which they later tried to sell me, this became a recurring theme throughout the visit) and gave me a traditional Maasai dancing stick.

More dancing and singing.  As you can see in the photo, the Maasai men all hold some sort of a stick.  These sticks represent that each of these people are adult men and are given to them by their parents when they reach adulthood.

Tyler, one of the other interns here from Washington D.C., decided to join me and the Maasai in our singing and jumping.  I did not jump very high.  I think if I was a Maasai, I would have to pay a high dowry.  Tyler and I were told we were poor excuses for Maasai and they took my dancing stick away from me.

This is a picture of a Maasai machete.  All the Maasai men carry a machete with them in addition to a stick to signify they are adults.  Some of the Maasai were even holding spears.  We were told these weapons were to kill lions that sometimes come in to the village to eat their livestock  

In addition to their sticks, when the Maasai reach adulthood (generally regarded as around 18 years old) they receive a machete.  When they reach this age, all the men in this age range are gathered and circumcised in front of the entire village.  The men are expected to bare the pain and not cry or make any sound.  If they make a sound, they are regarded as a "weak" man. 

After the circumcision, the men are all sent out to live in the bush by themselves to live off of the land for the next 3 years.  They can often be seen hunting for Coca-Cola in convenience stores or French fries at local restaurants in Mombasa and Nairobi.  They are considered Maasai Warriors during this stage of their lives.  At the end of this stage of their lives, the Warriors are required to kill a lion to be fully recognized as a man.  The Warrior that puts the fatal wound in to the lion is regarded as the manliest Warrior and is hailed as a hero when he returns to the village.  After the lion is killed, the warriors make jewelery out of the lions teeth and skin.  The jewelery is worn by the Warriors to signify them reaching their manhood.  The Maasai have also modernized in that if you choose to go pursue an education and finish high school and attend college you do not have to become a Warrior. 

The Maasai tribesmen show us how to make fire.  They rubbed a stick into a piece of wood and had a raging fire going in less than 5 minutes.  It was pretty cool.

This is a picture of me with some Maasai tribesmen.  The guy on the left was the son of the chief.  

After the tour, our tour guide left us without telling us to take one of the people on our tour home because she was not feeling well.  These guys offered to take us back to our campsite, but we were not very trustful of this guy being our guide because he seemed sleazy.  After being in this country for a while all of the interns became a little distrustful of most Kenyans that we randomly met as we learned most of them see us as "rich white people" and will try to sell us anything and everything.  This guy was way more sleazy than any other Kenyans we met.  The son of the chief tried to sell us everything from his stick to all the clothes he was wearing to even his house.  We reluctantly agreed to have him walk us back to our camp site.  While he was walking us back, I mentioned to one of the other interns that it was "bullshit" that the tour guide would leave us alone with this man we just met and when he heard the word "bullshit" he flipped out.  He told me that using the word is completely inappropriate and that I shouldn't be saying words like that especially if it is directed towards the Maasai.  The group and myself were pretty scared considering we were in the middle of a forest alone with a sleazy guy who was carrying a massive machete and a big stick (not to mention the surrounding areas had wild lions, cheetahs and leopards).  Thankfully, our tour guide arrived at that time in our safari van to pick us up. 

Inside the chief's son's luxury hut.  As you can see, this has many of the modern amenities any Maasai would expect in a modern Maasai home like cow poop floors and a charcoal stove.  The huts are very small (probably around 100 sq ft) and the ceilings are very low (around 5 ft) despite the Maasai being pretty tall people.  Each hut houses one family.  There is no electricity or water.  Every morning the women have to walk considerable distances to fetch water from the local river.

Another picture inside the chief's son's hut.  The walls inside the house were made of cow poop, wood and mud.  Even some of the seats we were sitting on were made out of cow poop and mud.  For as much cow poop and mud there was, the Maasai all had very clean clothes and shoes.  

Yet another picture of the inside of the chief's son's hut.  It's not very clear but on the left side there is the chief's son's son on his bed.  His bed was made out of twigs.  Surprisingly, the bed was not made of cow poop and mud. 

This is a picture of an animal pen.  Livestock such as goat, sheep and cows are kept in this pen during the night to protect them from the lions, cheetahs, leopards, and other predators.  The Maasai are mainly known to herd cattle and on our way to Maasai Mara we were forced to wait for a herd of cows to cross the highway many times.  The Maasai depend on cow for many things including meat, milk and blood.  One of the favorite drinks of the Maasai is cow blood.  To get the blood, they slit the cow so that it bleeds enough blood to drink, but not die.  Writing this makes me soooo thirsty...

The floor of this pen is also covered in cow poop.  I have to say though that even though everywhere was covered with poop, it was cleanly swept poop.  I didn't see any litter or garbage in the poop and it was usually evenly distributed.  I've noticed during my trip that Kenyans like really clean living spaces.  Even if the floor is poop, it is cleanly swept poop.

The Maasai "market".  "Market" is in quotation marks because the market is to sell some arts and crafts to the white people that visit the village.  The Maasia are surprisingly sophisticated salesmen.  They separated each person in our tour group and assigned 2 Maasai to each person.  The Maasai would then pick products and try to peer pressure us into buying the product at insanely high prices.  It was not a very pleasant experience.  

A Maasai child wondering around amidst the cow poop.  For all the cow poop in the villages, the children in the village appeared very healthy and having a good time.  

Bugs!

This is a picture of a cockroach in the kitchen of our beach cabin from this past weekend.  This cockroach was about as long as my hand (not exaggerating).  This is probably the most disgusting insect I have ever seen that was not at the zoo or museum.  It also flies very well.  Luckily this was the only one we saw all weekend.   We tried to kill it by smashing it with our sandals, but it was too big so we ended up smashing it with the gas tank for our stove.      

Some of the other interns here with me reported humongous cockroaches in their bedrooms (one reported an entire colony of them living on her ceiling; the hissing noise from them was so loud it kept her up at night) and when they told me the size of the roaches, I did not believe them.  I thought they were exaggerating, but after seeing this thing, it seems to me Kenya is the land of the giant roaches among other things...

My host family's house

Here is a picture of my host family's house:  

Just kidding...when I first said I was going to go to Africa, I think many people including my parents and roommates thought I would be living in huts like in the picture above.  While in very rural parts of Africa certain tribes such as the Maasai (the above huts are of the Maasai tribe and made out of cow poop...ewww...gross...I know...more on this in a different post) do live in huts, people in the city live in modern apartment buildings, houses, and tin shacks.  Below is a real picture of a my host family's home.

This is my host family's real home.  It is in a walled off subdivision with many homes that are very identical to this one.  Many young families live in my area.  The house to the right is where my wonderful British neighbor, whom I talked about in an earlier post, lives.

Side view of my host family's house.

A view of the surrounding homes in my neighborhood.

The living room of my house.  The couches are real leather.  The plant is fake. 

The entertainment system.  We have a DVD player and a decent sound system.  Interestingly, there are many stores in downtown Mombasa that specialize in selling pirated DVD's.  In the US and other parts of the world that I have been to, pirated DVD's are usually sold by some street merchant, but here in Mombasa, there are massive stores that only sell pirated DVD's right in the middle of the busiest business districts.  I recently purchased the pirated version of "The Social Network" and had a viewing party with my host parents.  Facebook is big here so they loved it.

Computer room. 

Kitchen.  The fridge that my host family has is like the size of a large fridge in a college dorm room.  It is not very big.  I found out that most houses don't even have a fridge.  I'm realizing most Kenyans don't like to refrigerate many things.  Items such as eggs are never refrigerated here.  That may be part of the reason I am spending so much time in the bathroom.

My room!  If it wasn't for the fan, I would probably be back in Chicago.  On the first night, I had no fan and I thought I was going to die.  It is so hot and humid in Mombasa, even during the night, that I woke up drenched in sweat.  My pillow soaked up so much sweat that it took 2 days to dry after the first night.  When I asked my host parents to take me to buy a fan, they thought it was funny that I couldn't sleep because it was too hot and said Americans are too "weak".

Sink in the hallway.  Contrary to popular belief in the US, they do have running water in Kenya.  Although there are 2 knobs on the sink, no hot water really comes out. 

The throne.  I have spent a lot of time here while I was "adjusting" to the food.  It flushes and works like a modern toilet in the US.  I actually think it may be considerably more powerful than a US toilet.  I have never seen a single toilet in Kenya clogged or backed up.  

They even have toilet paper here in Kenya!  On a side note, I think my host family thinks I use too much toilet paper.  They give me the "not again" look each time I ask for more toilet paper for my bathroom.  Like I said before, I have spent a lot of time on the toilet "adjusting" to the food here.

Shower room.  Just like the sink, there are 2 knobs, but both only spit out cold water.  I don't think there is any hot water here in Kenya except at the resorts.

View from my balcony.  I don't think there are any property zoning laws here.  Outside (by outside, I mean within several feet) the new and modern subdivision I live in, there are many tin shacks and mud huts that have no electricity or running water.  Sometimes when I take walks around my neighborhood I see many children crowding around a public faucet collecting water to take back to their homes.

This also seems to apply to the even nicer parts of Mombasa.  In the neighborhood of Nyali, which is a short distance from where I live and where many famous and wealthy people like Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones and Middle Eastern oil tycoons live, some of the worst slums in Mombasa exist.  When I inquired why this is the case, the response that I received was that the servants of these wealthy people need to live close to the homes they work in.  While this makes some sense, I don't believe this is the complete reason why slums are next to multi-million dollar mansions...

Some more homes and stores right outside my home.  The difference in the "niceness" of these neighborhoods and my subdivision is astonishing.  These homes do not have electricity or running water.  I have been told by my host parents to not walk in this area 2 blocks away from their home after dark because there is a good possibility I could be robbed.  On the rare occasion I walk by at night, I can see the candles dimly lighting these homes while the children play in the dirty water in the drain along the side of the street.

Heat!

This is a picture of a thermometer in my house.  It reads 88 degrees.  I think I may have adjusted to the heat more than I ever thought I would because this feels "cool" compared to the other days in the house.

Lightening cream!

I found this cream at the local Nakumatt (a department store chain throughout Kenya and Uganda, it's the Wal-Mart of Eastern Africa).  It is a cream for men for skin lightening.  I don't think it works because everybody is dark as hell here.  I guess the grass is always greener on the other side...  White people want to look dark and dark people want to look white...

UPDATE:  I was called a "brownie" today by a local (I tan like crazy in this sun).  I kind of got excited because I was becoming tired of getting called mzungu ('white person" in Swahili) all the time.

Skin lightening cream for women.

My neighbor!

Here are some pictures of my neighbor:  

She is an Englishwoman living in Kenya for the past 9 years.  She decided to move to Mombasa from London after falling in love with this place after spending many holidays here.  I decided to put up pictures of her because she is one of the most memorable people of my trip so far.  Her favorite past times include yelling at customer service of her cell phone/credit card company and correcting her servant's English.  She has a very loud voice and my room faces her house so I can hear just about everything she says.  She also has a very dirty mouth.  A typical phone conversation I over hear every morning is, "Fuck you you piece of shit.  You told me I'd get the credit on my account 2 fucking weeks ago.  It's the same old shit I hear every week." or, "You better fucken give me a refund or I will find you and shit on you you piece of shit".  Although she has a dirty mouth and can say some pretty harsh things, she is actually a very nice woman.

Another picture.  The pictures are not high quality as I had to take these pictures quickly one morning while she was having her tea before she noticed and said something to me.

She moved closer to me so I snuck in a picture.  I don't think she was too happy about it. 

Toilet!

This was the toilet at one of the local school's we visited in Mombasa.  I have trouble aiming into a toilet in the US.  There was no way I could hit that hole.  I decided to hold it for another 2 hours.

Finally!

I finally got my blog rolling after being in Kenya for several weeks!  I think for this blog, I am going to focus on posting mostly pictures of my experiences as I am not into writing large blog posts like so many people.  Here is a picture summary of my first 3 weeks here in Kenya:

This is a picture of the gas station right by my house in Chicago on the day I left for Kenya.  It was after one of the worst winter storms in the past 50 years of the city's history and it happened 2 days before my trip!  It completely shut down the city and I didn't think I was going to be able to go.

First picture of Africa after landing in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.  It was very different than any airport I have been to in the US or all over the world for that matter.  Although it is one of the largest airports in Africa (5th largest in Africa according to Wikipedia), it was very bare and did not have much going on.  It was also the first time I was in the large minority since I was one of the very few light colored people in the airport (despite the several light colored people in the picture).

A Safaricom (Kenyan cell phone company) advertisement greeting me upon my arrival at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Nairobi.  Cell phones are so prevalent here in Kenya everyone from the beggar on the street to Masai Warriors in the middle of the Serengeti pictured here have cell phones.

The view of Mt. Kilimanjaro from my airplane from Nairobi to Mombasa. 

The bathroom at the Jawambe Hotel. This was the place my organization put me up in before all the interns were placed with their host families.  On the way to the hotel, the taxi driver taught me many useful terms in Swahili that makes me think I may leave here with at least one wife (it's legal to have more than one wife, my taxi driver said he only had two wives because he wasn't rich enough to have more).  Some examples of what he taught me include "mischana mrembo" ("I love you beautiful lady") and "waschana warembo" ("I love you beautiful ladies").  The shower, sink and toilet were all in a tiny room and the toilet did not have a toilet seat (which made pooping pretty uncomfortable, I don't squat very well).  On the first night, I didn't realize how small the bathroom was and when I tried to shower I got the roll of toilet paper soaking wet.  When I tried to remove it, I ended up dropping it in to the toilet.  Reaching in to the toilet to retrieve a soaked roll of toilet paper in a 3rd world country was not a highlight of my life.  :-(

My room was pretty small.  Even though Mombasa is like 90 degrees with 95% humidity, the room had no air conditioning (to give the hotel a little credit, it did have a fan).  The windows had no screens despite the mosquitoes in Mombasa supposedly carrying one of the worst strains of malaria in the world so the beds all had mosquito nets. The mosquito net had holes all over it which probably made it worse for me because the mosquitoes would come in through the holes and get trapped with me in the net.  I think they figured they might as well have a rare feast of white person blood because every time I killed a mosquito it was pumped full of blood and too fat and slow to dodge my hand.  I later learned that this hotel was a luxury hotel by local standards.

Me in front of the Jawambe Hotel.  Although Kenyan society oppresses women, many local business owners were women.  Jawambe was owned by a woman named Mama Jawambe ("Mama" is a term used to show respect to older women).  She is in the Kikuyu tribe.  The Kikuyus are known to be good at business in Kenya (I hope to talk a little about the severe tribal segregation and the many problems it has caused in another post).  Mama Jawambe started out from absolutely nothing.  She first started peddling shoes in a small shop on the street before she moved into a much nicer shoe store.  After she her shoe store became successful, she sold it to purchase this hotel and restaurant.  It is extremely crowded every night as the locals like to come and have a beer or some food while watching their football (soccer).

I am in a tuk-tuk with several of the interns on my way to my first day of work.  The tuk-tuk is a 3 wheel motorcycle taxi used to get around town.  I think the driver's have to pass a psychological test.  If you are "sane" I don't think they allow you to drive one of these bad boys.  I did not feel safe for one second in one of these vehicles. I think this driver was pretty safe though, we only almost got into an accident 3 times on the way to the office.

Swahili class.  This is our Swahili teacher Anna teaching us about nouns.  Anna is also a tour guide and runs her own travel agency.  We planned a safari with her.  She can speak 16 different languages including English, Swahili, German, French and Japanese.  She has some incredible stories also.  In Kenya, where it is very conservative and women are often treated as second class citizens, she is one of the very few divorced women here.

The Likoni Ferry.  I think this is the worst part of Mombasa.  I HATE riding on this ferry.  It connects the southern part of Mombasa (the Likoni district) to the main downtown (island) part of Mombasa.  This ferry is notorious for pickpockets.  Not only will the pickpockets take your wallet, they will cut the bottom of your bag while you are not looking and take whatever that fell out that has any value.  On this particular ferry ride, I almost had a wagon full of vegetables fall on me and I almost was decapitated by a large pointy wooden post while trying to get on the ferry.

The school children at Maji Safi ("Safe Water" in Swahili) Public Elementary School that followed me everywhere I went when I visited the school.  They called after me, "Mzungu!" (white person!) everywhere I went and would not leave my side even after the principal yelled at them repeatedly for not leaving me alone.  I visited this school on the 2nd day of work. This was the first time I encountered true poverty.  These kids were playing during their lunch period instead of eating.  The principal that took us around jokingly stated that their lunch was "air burgers".  The schools lunch programs were canceled after UNICEF moved their lunch program to Northern Kenya where there is a significant famine.  The school could not provide lunch on the government funding they received.

The 4th grade classroom at Maji Safi Elementary School.  I walked around the school to each classroom with the principal as my guide.  In each room I was forced to introduce myself in Swahili.  I said "Naitwa Eugene.  Natoka Chicago, America." (Which basically translates to "My name is Eugene.  I am from Chicago, USA".  Whenever I say I am from Chicago, EVERYBODY in Kenya always asks if I know Obama and Oprah.  Even these young kids asked if I knew them.) 

The outside walls of Kwacha Afrika Youth Group, the organization I am volunteering at.  I hope to elaborate on them later.

Several members of Kwacha Afrika Youth Group at a local HIV/AIDS information session.  One of Kwacha's main activities is to go to villages all throughout Kenya and put on dance contests, skits, plays, and informational sessions on various topics effecting Kenya's youth.  On this day we went to a village in Mtwapa right outside of Mombasa to promote HIV/AIDS testing going on in this village through the mentioned activities.  I was in the dance contest.  All the villagers voted me last place.  They told me white people don't have rhythm so I shouldn't be dancing because I am only embarrassing myself.

The villagers watching the dance contest during Kwacha Afrika's HIV/AIDs outreach.  By doing all the dance contests and funny skits they get the villagers attention and out of their huts before they start talking about more serious topics.  It seems to be an effective strategy.

One of the children at the village I visited with Kwacha Afrika.  This particular child got my attention as he seemed to be wearing an extremely dirty diaper and very tattered clothing.  I also noticed that none of the other villagers were really concerned about this child.  While most of the city of Mombasa may not be developed or well-off or developed compared to most Western cities, the poverty level is astonishing in the outlaying villages compared to the city.  Seeing children likes this really made me sad.  This should not be the norm anywhere in the world.