Merry Christ Day

-So what do Peace Corps Volunteers Do?
-We help people?

Fun in the Sun

My cheap Polish skin wins again. One blissful day in the Indian Ocean subsequently leads to 3 days of misery where I have to be incredibly careful turning corners and squeezing between a group of people and the wall. And before you ask, Yes, I did wear sunscreen. Mother nature is just a spicy lady here in Africa. She will strand you with her mud , almost kill you with her mosquitoes and fry your skin like a twinkie at a state fair. For the next few days I will be rocking a lot of flowy layers like your favorite grandma and a constant thick layer of SPF 50. 

What's A Goal?

These are the possible titles for the memoir about Kenya that I will never write.

Loitering in Africa
Two Years Spent Carbo-Loading
Conversations With Myself and A Jiko
Pee Buckets, Prenatals and Popcorn
The Horrible Things I Did For a Hot Shower

My all around autobiography is titled When Bad Decisions Go Good.

Aged To Perfection

These are my grey hairs. The older ones keep inviting their friends to the party. 

Well Wishes From Afar

Happy Birthday Sandy! 

I'm not entirely sure why I don't have more recent pics. Sorry.

Tick Tock

Out of the 168 hours in a week I spend exactly half of those sleeping sweet sweet Meflaquin dreams. Out of the other 84 hours I spend about 28 of them working. That leaves me 56 hours each week to fill idle time with creative activities. One of my hours this week was spent calculating the amount of hours I spend doing things each week and then writing this blog post. Turd.

The other night I tried my hand at soap carving. I thought if I could get good enough then I could move on to wood. My attempted alligator turned out looking like a voodoo doll. I'm going to use the little bugger to wash the demons out of my clothes.

I have a leftover Dutch Vogue that I stole from first class when getting off the plane from New York to Switzerland. I might make some magazine beads with glue. Or write some ransom notes.

I have a bag of potatoes sitting in the corner of my "house" given to me by a neighbor. I could make an obscene amount of potato stamps. Or I could make obscene potato stamps.

I'm constantly getting attacked (falling into) stinging nettles. Someone once said you can make tea out of it. That seems like sweet enough revenge to me.

I'm trying to develop some kind of skill that serves as recreation also. Please let me know if any of you humans out there have suggestions. I will kindly try each one until it takes a turn for the worst.

P.S. Meflaquin is the malaria medication that I take that causes me to have incredibly psychedelic hallucination-like dreams.

Be Gentle

If a Kenyan is talking on a microphone
He is going to talk for hours

If a Kenyan talks for hours
You will be sharing one chair with two other people

If you are sharing one chair with two other people
Someone is going to touch your hair

If a stranger touches your hair
All the children in the area will surrond you

If you are surrounded by 60 kids
You are going to have a mild anxiety attack

If you are having an anxiety attack
The children will ask you to sing for them

If you have to sing for the children
You will forget the words to "She'll Be Coming Round The Mountain" after two verses.

If you forget the words to your song
You will try and recover by shaking everyones' hand

If you shake everyone's hand
You will go home and scub them until they almost bleed

If your hands are almost bleeding
Then you will really know you are in Kenya

Well the thing about that is.....

People in Kenya are curious and want to know what it is like in America. They really have very few references to paint a picture for themselves. Most of the TV shows are Mexican and Phillipino soap opera imports (my fave is Eva Luna). Some only know the US by it's reputation as the land of self made men, where everyone is welcome, and Disneyland. 

Those of us who have left college in the last 8 years, own a home and have/had a career know that those realities are a little faded now. That previous reputation is one of my bigger obstacles. It is incredibly hard to try and explain the not so lustrous climate in America right now to a Kenyan. 

USA: Student Loans interest rates are really high.

Kenya: Pay for education in full each term and therefore get bachelors degrees when they are 35+.

USA: We have gang violence. 

Kenya: Have tribal violence that base from fissures during or before colonialism and are usually very deep and personal. 

USA: Our politicians don't get along.

Kenya: Currently there are about 14-16 presidential candidates and each election year people loose their homes, livestock and family members over election results. 

USA: The mortgage rate on a three bedroom home is really high so some have to rent. 

Kenya: Own two room homes made from mud with the kitchen being outside (inside the living room if it is raining) and no one sleeps in their own bed.

USA: There are no jobs for University Graduates.

Kenya: There are no jobs for high school graduates and going to University is an option if you can get almost every extended family member to contribute a large sum to your education. 

USA: Gas prices are really high.
Kenya: People walk 10km to the nearest health facility so they can get health care for their child because they have no car. 

USA: Obesity is a national problem.

Kenya: Malnutrition is a national problem. 

I'm not trying to diminish the actual severity of problems in the US, because I have experienced them and people close to me have also. Problems are still problems. I'm glad to be here and see first hand that no matter how bad things are they can always get worse. Even with all of the obstacles here, Kenyans are some of the happiest people I have ever met and each day I try and take another page from their book. 

On the heels of the elections Kenyans are extremely proud to have Obama in the White House again. So am I. Even if our reality in America doesn't really reflect our reputation I am no dream crusher and continue to keep that dream alive here.  

"People die with all their life's dreams only in their hearts" - Julia Wanjiro 

Carterland

Today this kid turned 1. And from the looks of it I think we can all agree so far he is living life correctly. Wish I could be there little man. 

Crying is More Contagious Than Measles

This week we helped Obliterate Measles! or whatever crap campaign slogan the Kenyan government has attached to me walking 15kms a day in the rain and mud. The campaign started on Saturday morning and will continue until Wednesday. Thursday for me cause I'm so hard core. You wouldn't believe how many little Kenyan mouths I have stuck my fingers in. Not just for amusement, but to administer Vitamin A from a oil tablet. 
Just a little preliminary info. Most children get measles. And most children can fight it off with their own natural immunity. However, here in Kenyan in the rural areas where undernourishment is an obvious problem. Imagine a six year old kid who is the physical size of a three year old. For those kids measles can be pretty deadly. There have been a few outbreaks so the Kenyan government is doing its duty by waging all out war on measles. This week I physically restrained kids on the ground, fell in the mud, explored/got lost in a bamboo forest, was attacked by safari ants, and touched so many dirty little hands and mouths. I loved every minute of it.

Set the scene. 

Me (Volunteer) and Julie (Nurse [who I will force to be my new best friend]). One of 5 other similar teams in my area. We were assigned the Gituamba sub location area which is the largest and most densely populated. 

Walk up towards the Nursery School. 
All the laughing and yelling from the children gets suddenly quiet. They have heard about us and our injections. 
We walk in and greet the kids. 
Julie does a speech about how medicine is good and that we need them to be brave. And promises them a sweet after the injection. The sweet is just Vitamin A. 
While she is doing that I start to reconstitute the vaccines and fill the .5ml syringes.
Then we spot a kid that looks like he/she won't cry. This is crucial because as soon as one kid starts crying the rest start crying. But if the first kid doesn't cry then the rest of the kids will try to be as brave as that first kid. We had one room of 44 kids, and not one of them cried (I'm not including the babies because as we all know you can't reason with a baby).
Then Julie lines them up and starts injecting them in the right arm.
After the kids receive their injections they come to me and get their "sweet" and I mark their left pinky finger with an iodine pen so that they won't get re-vaccinated on accident. 

We always save the fighters for last. This involves usually dragging a kid from the corner of the room by picking them up, sitting them down and holding down their arms and legs while they scream bloody murder in our ear and cry. Then we cut open the Vitamin A tablet and squeeze the contents into their mouths hoping that they won't bite us. 
We say thank you and leave to go to the next school.

The only way to get the word out about something like this is to physically tell people in person and then if that doesn't work to bring it to them.
Julie and I have vaccinated over 1000 kids and walked probably just as many kilometers in the sun, mud and rain. 

Unsuspecting kids found on the road. "Hey kid! Where is your mom? Go get her."

Just one of the many beautiful roads we walked through to cover ground with the vaccine.

This was today. Even though the campaign is over we still went out because we had extra vaccines and we missed a few pockets in the area.

Those syringes are the used ones. 

This one is for Phillip Panici and his closet Facebook habit. 

Visa Upon Arrival

No matter how horrendous the last journey we never give up hope for the next one. God only knows why. 

Martha Gellhorn

Sri Lanka - India - Nepal - Bangladesh - Myanmar - Laos - Vietnam - Cambodia - Thailand - Malaysia - Indonesia - Philippines

I am going to eat a blow fish, lay on a beach and watch someone open a coconut with a machete. 

Stronger Then A Cup Of Coffee

Just one of the first conversations I had this morning after waking up. I have omitted the names of the men involved in this conversation because BOTH OF THEM ARE MY SUPERIORS.

A: We shall retain you so you stay here.
M: Yes I shall retain you, I shall get cows and goats.
Iwona: I don't have a dowry and my home is in America.
A: No, you will go back but you will also stay here.
M: He shall act as my arbitrator.
A: Yes I am taken, but he has no wife.
Iwona: Nope.
A: No, no, no, no you shall see, you will become one of us.
Iwona: I would not make a very good Kenyan wife.
M: Why?
Iwona: Because I don't like to cook, I don't like to clean and I'm not entirely sure I want to have children.
A: (Jaw hits the floor)
M: (Jaw hits the floor)
Iwona: Yes, I would not be a good Kenyan Wife.
A: You two shall make a second Obama.
Iwona: I'm not sure I want to have any children.
A: You sister has a child. You shall also have a child.
Iwona: Just because my sister did something doesn't mean I have to do it. I want to focus on work.
A: Yes here in Kenya if you focus on work and have a good job you can have many children and many wives.
Iwona: Yeah that is another reason I can't be a Kenyan wife. I'm not okay with Polygamy.
A: Why?
Iwona: I don't like to share.
A: (Laughs like I am a silly girl)

Heed My Warning

This is a cry to all future female Peace Corps Volunteers in Kenya. 
You will not loose weight coming to Africa. In fact your ass will grow exponentially. Do no eat tons and tons of food before you leave. You will not get the body of a Kenyan runner just by stepping off the plane.

And honestly why would you want that?

Lets start with the fact that Kenyan women are hostesses with the mostesses. The Mammas will feed you potatoes mixed with rice and chapati (Kenyan tortilla) as an appetizer before they load you up with Ugali (hot dough served with just about everything). Then they will stare at you insulted when you can't finish your third bowl of rice and you will continue to shovel it into your face having no idea what the repercussions will be like later. Not to mention that they will tell you "you are so skinny", even though you know that is a lie, somehow you will use it to justify the carnage left behind on your plate. 

Kenyan food is healthy on the surface. Kenyan food is a handful of ingredients: kale, maize, beans, cabbage, potatoes, tomatoes and carrots. These ingredients are all interchanged at various amounts to make different dishes. You'll think to yourself "Gosh kale is so expensive in the states I'm going to have TWO helpings". Little do you know that at bare minimum there is at least 4 Tbsp of pure lard in that dish you are so gloriously consuming. Also Kenyans overcook everything so most of those awesome nutrients found in kale have left hours ago. You are essentially eating fat coated in a light layer of iron. 

Lastly, don't come to Kenya if you eat your feelings. Once you are dropped off at site with no one around to hear your pillow muffled sobs you will learn just what being truly alone means. You'll go to market and buy all the ingredients for a whole weeks worth of meals filled with veggies and wholesome grains. This will quickly go away once you figure out how to make unhealthy American food at site. Nine pieces of garlic toast and a giant pot of salted popcorn later you are going to bed hating yourself a little bit more.

Cabbage Patch Kid

A gift from my neighbor.

Cheesy Itz

Who takes a break to eat a spoonful of peanut butter between putting on her pants and shirt?
Who forgets a packet of papers on a teacher’s desk 4km away and doesn't realize it until she gets to the next school office?
Who prefers to eat in bed no matter how many chairs and tables are available?
Who blasts Primus and Brazilian Girls for her pious neighbors to hear?
Who can tell just by looking at a cow that she is pregnant? 
Who forgets she is wearing a sports bra for three days?
Who can knock a drunken Kenyan on his ass when he tries to kiss her?
Who falls in mud puddles while in-texticated?
Who prefers to sleep on a cold floor instead of a crowded bed?
Who researches obscure African diseases as a hobby?
Who cooks beans for three days?
Who can loose a Nalgene water bottle in two weeks but hold on to a cheap plastic one for months until she has to throw it away because it is molding?
Who has had the same mud stain on her foot since Monday?
Who washes her clothes when she knows its going to rain so she doesn’t have to do that good of a job rinsing it?

This Girl. 

Proof That I Work

 CHW (Community Health Worker) Meeting

 Bi-Cross Community Problem Analysis

 Making a Seasonal Calendar

 Waving at the Mzungu

 Tiny Tippy Tap

Josephine helping the kids learn how to use the Tippy Tap. 

 Josephine helping her neighbor.

 A new friend.

 Using tools like an American.

 Global Hand Washing Day at Githima Primary School.

 662 kids washed their hands at 11 Am here.

 We had over 5 thousand kids in our district participate.

 The different classes made and preformed poems about hand washing and presented them to the school.

St. Cecilia classes 4 and 5 preforming poems for us.

All Clean!

Health Volunteer?

The problem with reading a book titled Communicable Diseases as a hobby is that you recognize that the initial symptoms for a lot of common but possibly deadly diseases are the same. They are as follows:

Fever
Headache
Diarrhea
Vomiting

Here are some of the wonderful diseases that you could possibly endure if you have a combination of any of these completely arbitrary symptoms.

Malaria:  Get under your bed nets kiddos.
Plague: Alive and well in here Africa
Yellow Fever: 7 days is the magic number try and stay alive for at least a week.  
Cholera: Cholera beds. It’s a thing, look it up. 
Relapsing Fever: Wash your clothes, wash your clothes, and wash your clothes. 
Giardia: Burps so bad you will ask yourself, “When did I eat Sulfur?”
Amoebias: Just kill yourself. It will be easier.
Typhoid Fever: Thanks Mary. 
Food Poisoning: Keep a bucket next to the toilet.
Polio: The option of getting vaccinated is a first world problem.
Hep E: Friends with Malaria and Relapsing Fever. 
Meningitis: Just one of the many diseases you can catch in a dorm room.

A handful of them are what I lovingly refer to as Ass to Hand to Mouth diseases. My qualifications for this job know no bounds. 

Breaker breaker

Does anyone know if coconut crème Oreos are a thing? If so, please send immediately to:

Mirangine Health Center
c/o Iwona Matczuk
PO Box 59-20124
Mirangine, Kenya

If they are not, use the address to send pictures, music (mixed tapes/new albums), seasonal cards or stories about your daily lives. If you think no one would care to hear the stories of your day to day happenings it is not true. I would love to hear stories about fights you got into during traffic, your landscaping plans for next summer, mistakes you made this weekend and how shitty your boss is. At the very least just put a steady stream of random consciousness down on paper with no punctuation or grammar involved and stick it in the mail. Your cooperation is appreciated and I am waiting semi-patiently. 

Temporarily Tiny

Come take a lovely and extremely short tour of my current living accommodation. Please keep in mind that this is entirely temporary. I hope. There is a house that has been being built for quite some time now that I am to eventually move into. The finishing touches for it are just cosmetic now, but until it is finished I live in what has been lovingly referred to as The Hobbit Hole. Please note that every half finished roll of toilet paper and opened bag of chips has been strategically placed to enhance your tour experience. 

Enjoy.

 Because if I manage to not loose something in my life, then chances are it is somehow functioning under sub-par conditions.

 My favorite purchase so far in Kenya it keeps my frequency of GI issues lower.

 The front of my "house". The second window on the right is not mine.

 My office. 

 My kitchen/shoe room. Charcoal stove that kills me a little softer every night, and my new electric jiko that melted my adapter into the socket this morning. Oh, and my second free bag of potatoes from my neighbor. Don't be jealous.

 My clothes closet and my up and coming bucket collection.

 Supply closet.

 File cabinet and toiletry drawer.

 Keeps things off the back of my office chair.

 I wish you could see the permanent trench I sleep in on the piece of cardboard that passes as a mattress.

 It's the only outlet I have and its falling off the wall. How do you say "I electrocuted myself" in Kiswahili?

The view from my bed to the front door.

Tickets to visit The Hobbit Hole are available all year long. Ask about children and group rates.

How to appear like you are learning Gikuyu (Gee-koo-you):

This isn't like French class. The teacher isn’t talking to me slowly reciting phrases from my book that I have open in front of me. I’m not just waiting for 45 minutes of semi-uncomfortable confusion to be over hoping that the answers written in my book from the past three generations of owners are correct. 

This is Gikuyu, and I have no idea how to speak it. In fact, I have no idea how to tell when one word stops and the other starts. 

I do however know how to appear like I’m learning it. Granted this strategy won’t last me very long. At some point people are going to start to think “She’s been here for 14 months. What’s wrong with her?” 

The first rule for appearing to be learning a language is try to avoid having a confused look on your face. Gikuyu is “soooooo easy” according to all the fluent Gikuyu speakers. In fact it’s so easy that there aren't any actual books written in it. It’s just simply spoken and heard. So great for me. The way they talk about it, one day it will simply just click for me and I’ll understand everything. In the slim chance that that actually happens, don’t look confused. Look inquisitive. 

I “zone out” a lot. This is inevitable. When surrounded by quick conversations that I have absolutely no reference in where to begin discerning what they are talking about, it just turns into white noise. This is also a time that I train my face not to look completely confused or detached. I don’t want to look like I’m being completely disrespectful. But really, I’m thinking about what I’m going to cook for dinner, how I want to burn all my skirts and whether I should buy a bucket to pee in. 

When someone takes the time to recognize a phrase that I probably should know they take a few seconds to slow down their conversation from 105kph to 80kph. Then they say my name very loudly as if my lack of understanding stems from volume, they look me in the eye and repeat the phrase. We both take turns repeating the phrase. This goes on until I've recited it at least seven times. Nothing cracks a Kenyan up more then hearing a white person recite “What time is it?” in their mother tongue over and over. Then I walk away repeating the phrase to myself, but loud enough for people to hear, convincing myself and my impromptu teacher that this time it will really stick. And just as soon as I find a pen I’ll write it down so it really plants some roots in my damaged brain. I never do, and it never does.

Ni wega.

The Black Lung

Living in Kenya is not impossible. Obviously. People have done it since the literal beginning of man and will do it long after I go. This being said, life is different here. Not impossible, just different.
One of my incredibly dorky hobbies has been taking note of how Kenyans do things where I have grown accustomed to having first world conveniences. 
One thing you hear a lot is that Americans have "very much" money. False, well comparatively true, and that Americans use machines for everything. True. 
Here are just some of the things I've written down. I'm sure there are many many more and I will try to add to the list as my time here grows.


Tupperware: One plate placed on top of the other to make a giant dome.

Lawnmower: A machete with the tip bent at a 90 degree angle swung back and forth by an old man smoking a cigarette or a tiny little sickle wielded by a ten year old.
Lawnmower #2: Sheep, cows and goats.

Dishwasher: Two buckets and one bar of soap.

Washing machine for clothes: Same two buckets and same bar of soap.
Bathtub: One of the previously mentioned buckets, same bar of soap if you are really hardcore. I'm not. 
Excel Spreadsheet: Piece of paper, ruler and pen.
Trash Compactor: Box of matches.
Central Heat: A charcoal stove that sits in the middle of the room that hopefully won't kill you from CO2 while you sleep.
Door Lock: Nail halfway hammered into the door jam, bent at 135 degrees, and twisted in front of the door to keep it "locked".

I also promise that one of these days I will write about what I am actually doing here. I assure you I'm not ONLY sitting around being a smart ass. I'm working a little here and there also. 

Your face will get stuck like that.

A lot of my day to day now is spent culturally adapting. I have to take a lot of things in stride. In the last couple of months I have noticed that the cultural stuff that I'm trying to get over and/or change can boil down to things that your mom use to yell at you from the other room, in public or in front of your friends.  

Don't Stare:

As someone new in a community that doesn't speak the language, doesn't look like anyone else and has to muster up a lot of zest to leave her house to do simple simple tasks, could you please not make it any worse by assuring I have an audience for everything I do.

Don't Point:

It's rude to point out peoples mistakes. I'm going to make A LOT here in the next couple of months. Prepare yourselves, its going to get embarrassing. 

Wash your hands: 

Before you cook. Before you eat. After using the bathroom. After changing a diaper

Don't put your hands in your mouth/near your face: 

In case you didn't wash your hands in any of the before mentioned instances it will keep POO from getting inside your body. 

Take your medicine:

You know about your country's reputation for health. You know that there is a lot of improvements that need to be made. You know that there is a need for education. You know that there have to be some changes from adults. Then why don't you finish taking your medicine?

Don't pick your nose in public: 

I don't get it. I still have to stop myself from reacting when I'm speaking to someone and they start digging up there nose mid sentence. 

Tom and Jerry

A girl's head can really swell with the almost daily proclamations of love I get from random manchildren on the street. Luckily I'm so humble I can barely stand it.
I know my Amish skirt, dirty hair and recurring acne is irresistible, but for the record, if any of you suitors are reading.... No I will not give you my phone number. I am not interested in polygamy, or bi-nogamy, whatever that is. I assure you, you do not "Love" me. I don't appreciate you making me lie so much just to get rid of you. I don't have a boyfriend, no I don't have a husband either. Oh and those kids I was talking about, they weren't mine, just a myriad of random characters I've read about or seen in a movie. Just so you know, I am not above getting mean. I will humiliate myself and you. Then I will sleep a very deep slumber knowing that I have put you in your place.
Looks like being single is suiting me best again.

DON'T PANIC!!!

Tips for surviving Kenya:

- Don't flinch when Kenyans hit their kids. 

- Do wash your hands after touching one of these kids. Two words: Poo Hands. 

- Don't let a Kenyan see you cry. They don't know how to handle it. 

- Don't take offense when multiple Kenyans call you fat. Apparently its a good thing. Never feels like it though.

- Enjoy the tea breaks. Thanks England.

- Ignore the weird milk skin that forms on top of your tea. 

- Don't think about the things you crave.

- Don't freak out every time you wake up with bug bites. It's going to happen and often.

- Don't be sarcastic. It doesn't translate.

- Do wear two sports bras. 

- Do remember to take your malaria medication. 

- Don't under cook anything.

- Do hold your breath around piles of burning garbage. 

- Always carry wipes.

- Practice squatting. 

I be dubbed...

My Gikuyu name is Mwihaki. Pronounced M-wee-ha-kee. Now say it faster.
It means someone who his proud of herself. My co-workers say its a good thing. I can only assume it roughly translates as confident. That, or they can taste my narcissism.

Ode to Matatu

The Toyota Matatu might be the finest vehicle ever made.
If you ride a Matatu first let me explain the concept of personal space. You have none. Be prepared for the stranger sitting next to you to climb onto your lap if an additional person needs to enter the vehicle.
Please don't touch the space between the driver and the row of seats behind him. It will melt your flesh off. Caution.
Even though there are 22 passengers crammed into an 11 passenger vehicle, and the hot African sun is beating down on you, don't open the window. Someone will reach in and steal whatever is in your hand. They don't care if its an orange, they were hoping it was your phone.
Try not to lean on the door. It may fall off. It will probably fall off.

With those warnings in mind, the Toyota Matatu is the finest vehicle I've ever ridden in.

It is an hour and a half drive to get from Nakuruu (the nearest big city) to get to my village Gwakiongo. In order to do this trek you must drive up a very steep unpaved muddy hill dodging rouge sheep and cows. Each time, I'm convinced that the Matatu will get stuck in a pothole that is big enough for small children to use as a wading pool, and they do. Or it will capsize when the Matatu offroads into someones front yard. I've done this journey almost four time now and each time I am amazed at what this car can do. I want one.

Oh Holy Smells.

I need to get dressed. Well, actually I need to get undressed first seeing as I sleep in 5 layers of clothes. Then I will hopefully try to eliminate some of the smells coming off of my body with the supply of wipes I have. Then get dressed and go to church. Yes that's right, Church. Its my goal for the day. Church and religion are a big deal here in Kenya. The missionaries did a right job of fucking this place up and then promptly leaving. They need to get back here and fix it, but I digress. My goal here for the next three months is to integrate. That includes going to church and having people say things behind my back such as, "Oh, the white girl goes to church!" and "Look! She has faith. She isn't just a heathen like we thought all Americans are".
Amen.

Ni Wegaaaaaa

Why Hello Mirangine, Kenya. My name is Iwona. I am here as a Peace Corps Volunteer. Please stop staring. No seriously, stop staring. 

Why hello Mamma selling charcoal on the side of the road. I would love to buy some charcoal from you, but first I need to buy a jiko(charcaol stove) and a sufaria(pot) so that I can cook food. Will you please show me where I can buy these things? Oh, you are going to walk with me the whole way and make sure no one low balls me and gives me the mazungu(white person) price. Why thank you so much. You are my first friend here in Mirangine. 

Oh hello random man on the side of the road who is obviously irritated because I didn't greet you initially before I asked you a question, but then gets considerably happier because I then greet you in your mother tongue of Gikuyu. Can you show me where the matatu stop is for going into Nakuruu? Oh, you are going to walk me the whole way there so I don't get lost. Thank you so much. Asante sana. 

Goodbye man that sits unnecessarily close to me on the matatu to Nakuruu and asks me to take him to America with him. I told you four times already I have a boyfriend! and he can kick your ass. And no I won't  help you get a green card either. See ya. 

Goodbye adorable little baby sitting next to me on the return matatu who won't stop crying. I know you are so so so happy that your mother bought you a sucker but could you please not touch my hair with your sticky little hand. Thanks. See you never. 

Hello three really friendly men who are installing electricity in my tiny little room so I can have light in the afternoons, but more importantly so I can write this blog post. You are too kind and insist on thanking me over and over for coming and living in your country for two years. I hope there are more people like you to come. 

Mamma Iwona

Silvia feeding me cake.

 Cutting the Cake. 

 My host Mamma and Me. She bought me fabric as a gift.

My older sister feeding me cake.

This is my good-bye party at my host family. My mamma was a great host. She's Boss. She is a widow and has a stand in the market where she sells underwear and jerseys, she is also a land lady, grandmother and all around action star. I'll never forget her and the amazing hospitality her family showed me these last two months.

Habari Yenu

Hello Internet and fellow internet friends. If you want to listen, I would like to tell you about my adventures. Nothing to fancy or flashy. Just some stories about a girl living in Kenya, working with the Ministry of Public Health and struggling to communicate in a language that is just a series of abrasive commands. I'll talk about all few successes, my many failures and about the numerous GI infections that I will inevitably contract in between. 

Here's what I love about Kenya so far...

1. The handshakes

2. Healthy food is cheap, and junk food is expensive.

3. Kenyans have the most beautiful and white smiles.

4. The exchange rate. 

5. The hats little kids wear.

6. The weather

7. Seeing baboons cross the road.

8. Kenyan time. 

9. Kenyans LOVE Obama more then any American I have ever met.

10. Hakuna Matata is used in general conversation.

Here's what I will hopefully learn to love, or eventually not care about anymore...

1. The word Mazungu (Ma-zoon-gu). Its what Kenyans call white people. It's not used in a nice way, but used frequently. 

2. The many additional grey hairs that have shown up on my head since arriving.

3. The blandness of the Kenyan food.

4. Not being able to wash my hands when I want to.

5. Wearing slips.

6. Matatus (Ma-ta-too) 11 seat vans used as public transportation that usually have at least 17 people crammed into them. 

7. Bargaining the price for everything that is not sold in a store.

8. The smell of burning garbage.

9. Calling "pants" "trousers" and saying "pleat" instead of "braid".

10. Never having a crisp, cold and refreshing glass of anything.