I'm on my way...

I know, two posts in one day! I’m going crazy! I am departing for Mombassa and Bodo this afternoon. Therefore, I will not be on a computer for two weeks, so do not fret if you don’t hear from me. Also, I am in a rush, so I apologize for the quality of the writing.

The day after I moved in with my family, Mama Stella took me to the bus station in downtown Nairobi (Yes, she just left the kids at home alone for six hours). In order for us to get there, we had to take a matatu, which is basically a very small van that packs a ton of people in it. They have no regard for pedestrians or other cars and the mention of a seat belt is laughable. Each matatu has a different character and they are the Kenyan form of public transportation. I definitely rode in a "che" matatu and a "david bowie" matatu.

The bus station is in the Eastern area of the city and the area surrounding it was covered in trash and rotting food. We were going to meet Mama Stella's mother who was arriving from Kisii for a wedding. I actually could not tell where the station actually began, but we found Grandma sitting on the side of a road with two servants and bags full of clothes and food. A few minutes later, rain began to pour down in sheets and we took refuge under an overhang. A few minutes later, a man passed by the overhang and began to hassle me. I ignored him but he was persistent in trying to get my attention, escalating his voice first in English and then in Swahili. A second man approached the man and they spoke in Swahili. Both men became physical and began to push each other around. A group of men standing behind me poked my shoulder. When I turned around, they whispered "your presence here is making this man very angry." When we evacuated the overhang a few minutes later, the two men were still arguing.

For the first time since arriving in Kenya, I was acutely aware of my skin color. Often I hear the passing "mzungu," which means white person (and really translates to people who move around), however, never before was I in a vulnerable position for someone to talk at length to me. I stood under the overhang shoulder to shoulder with many people, following my mother's actions; perhaps I was just an easy target. My mother brushed off the man as a "madman," which very well may be true. However, it still shook me for a moment to have someone visibly dislike me based solely on my appearance.

After the experience at the bus station, Mama and I went to her cousin's house in a different area of the city. Five of her female cousins were there for their monthly get together. In my African mind, the house was nice, large, and well kept. In my American mind, it was a barely standing shanty that would make me fear for tetanus, dust mites, and food poisoning. Mama Stella's cousins were extremely welcoming and kept bringing me food--egg soup, potatoes, chapati, peas, brown and white ugali, and more. Kids ran around the house, playing video games and freezing the passion fruit juice into ice cubes in the freezer (did I mention that I love kids!). The cousins talked with me for a long time (in both English and Swahili) about why I was in Kenya. For the most part, people are extremely interested and welcoming. Right before we were about to leave, the women exchanged money and picked names out of a hat of people to pray for in the group. Then, we took a car to the Nairobi Club, which is a very fancy country club outside the main downtown. One of Mama Stella's male cousins is getting married there on Friday (I am missing it because I am going to Mombassa), so we went to check it out. I could definitely tell that the Nairobi Club was originally a club exclusively for Europeans. There were cricket fields and Everything was fancy and nice--a huge jump from the cousin's house. I met two of Mama's nieces who are 21 and 22 and attend nearby Universities. The entire time I was at the Club, I felt like I could have been anywhere but Africa. The women sat and talked about marriage, their weight, and different types of men while the men sat at another table drinking Tusker beer and smoking cigars. I definitely believe that living in Nairobi makes one more "modern", but I still get amazed (and sometimes giddy) when it dawns on me over and over again that all people are basically the same. When we were leaving, Mama Stella and her cousins de-shoed and raced across the lawn. I am proud to report that my mother won the race!

Other things:

-my class made up a song called "Hodi," which is the greeting one says before entering a place. It is a stellar/harsh song.

-I really love SIT and the classes. The lectures are extremely interesting and I have a grandparent crush on Odoch (my Director) and his wife Donna Pido (who is American). Everyone should look up Donna on the Internet because she is fantastic. Also, every exercise we participate in are well planned and have a specific purpose. There is a fair amount of work but I am interested and engaged in all of it.

-I went to an AIDS orphanage and volunteered with toddlers while they were in he pool. My clothes were soaked, but I had a good time. The facility was extremely nice, a commonality that continually surprises me. Virtually all buildings are surrounded by guarded gates, so on the street, most things look run down. Then, one you are in the gate, you forget that the street even exists.

-When I was making valentines (out of, you guessed it, construction paper), I showed my brothers and sister how to make snowflakes, cranes, and fortune tellers. They were fascinated by the snowflakes in particular and could not really figure out how there is really no way to mess them up.