Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Reflections on Africa‏

I have been back in the states for a few days now, but my heart and my mind are not back yet. I have left them in Africa indefinitely. My last few days in Africa were not out of the usual: played bumper goats with the kids, milked Emily, watched a goat get slaughtered and then subsequently ate its fried liver in a dark barn (sorry Dick if you are reading this)…you know, typical stuff in Africa. The final day I helped prepare for a big celebration where we roasted the goats, danced and sang. It was a joyous way to end an amazing 6 weeks living with the street kids in Kamulu. I received dozens of notes as I left from the kids thanking me for being there and how much it meant to them. Although I read them in Africa, I still haven’t been able to open them up in America. I already miss it enough…

Much to my surprise, it didn’t feel different when the airplane briskly set down its wheels in America. The airplane landing in Kenya felt very similar, as did the landing in Brussels earlier that morning. The land felt no different than any other land, but the truth is that the land I am on now is drastically different than the land on which I previously stood. I knew when I left Africa that I would never be the same; I just didn’t know coming home would be such a shock.

The shock began almost immediately when my friends took me straight from the airport to a sports bar to watch the Lakers game. May I remind you that I was still in my Africa conga and beaded tribal wear as a joke since I didn’t get to go home and the airline lost my bag. To go from a celebration send off with traditional dancing and goat roasting one night, to a sports bar with endless LCD flat screen TVs and well dressed drinkers the next, created an unsettling feeling within me. For the first time I felt uncomfortable in a setting that was easy for me to previously mesh into. The next day, the discomfort and uneasiness continued. I went to do some errands and for the first time in 6 weeks I was amongst other white people. I had gotten so used to be the center of attention wherever I went, being a rarity, that it felt weird to be completely invisible. Los Angeles went on with its usual hustle and bustle without recognizing my presence.

I sat in my car for a few minutes not wanting to go inside the grocery store. I hadn’t seen a store in over a month. If we wanted some veggies or fruits you could usually find some ladies sitting on the ground down the village road a ways selling something you might want. An avocado in Africa would cost me around 8 cents whereas here they are 2 for 5 dollars. Crazy price difference for the same thing. I went into the store and almost turned around before I had any items in my cart. I was overwhelmed by the mass quantities of options, since I have eaten beans and rice for weeks, and the mass amounts of people coming and going without realizing how fortunate they were or acknowledging me. But how could I blame them? On the outside I look like I belong here. I have the skin color, the physical features of a Californian, and the clothes. Yet on the inside my heart is screaming for those I have loved and served in a part of the world that those who pass me by in the grocery storey have not seen or known.

Among this blur of cultures, a few things have become clear. I think I now fully understand the significance of the ying yang symbol. The ying yang has the darkness and the light always chasing each other with a spot of darkness in the light and a spot of light in the darkness. Socially, people would consider Africa the darkness shrouded by disease, famine, and despair. But I have seen the spot of light within this darkness. For inside this place is a joy and hope unlike anything I could compare here. The people I came to know are so joyful, giving, and appreciative of life and the things in it (even though by our standards they have so little). I know what the soul fully alive looks like now, and it can be readily found in this darkness. I have also lived in the light, or as many people may call it: America. I live in Malibu, home of those who’ve made it, succeeded, and aren’t afraid to show it. However, in this light is the spot of darkness. It doesn’t take a hard look to see past the façade of material things into a heart that is broken. The people here are miserable; they’ve tried to fill their lives with endless things, yearly vacations, the best education, and when things start going south…the best psychiatrists money can offer. They wonder at the end of the night why they feel empty, why their marriage is in shambles, and their “successful” job isn’t as rewarding as they imagined it would be. Yes, I do believe this is the darkness in the light.

Perhaps many may ascribe to the notion that ignorance is bliss. That my life would have been better off without knowing how the rest of the world eats, sleeps, and lives. I do not ascribe to this belief. I believe that knowledge is power, power to make a difference, power to change lives, and the power to recognize how to be the spot of light in the darkness. Yes this trip has changed me and I hope I will never be the same from it. I hope that this trip was one of many and I hope that others will step outside their comfortable boxes long enough to let the real world transform their minds and their hearts.

I don’t even know how to put into words an answer to the question “How was Africa?” I know I will get this question a lot, but what perfect combination of words would do this 6 week trip justice? “Amazing.” “Life-changing.” “Spectacular.” All are cliché and don’t provide any insight into the sights these eyes have seen. What stories capture the memories I have? And what pictures reveal the heart and soul these precious children have? I now see why people fall in love with Africa; it takes your heart and breaks it so it can put it back together in a way that it didn’t fit before but strangely feels like it had been out of order in the first place. I don’t know if Africa needed me, but I think I was in need of Africa. Somehow it broke me down and built me up at the same time without much conscious effort so that I can’t remember when the change occurred. But I do know I will never be the same.


Sunday, June 7, 2009

I survived.

I survived. Five days later, I summited. I cried when I got to the top because it was the hardest thing I have ever done physically or mentally. I have now stood at 20,000 feet. This trip keeps on getting more and more unforgettable. I am exhausted and leave to go back to the orphanage at 6am in the morning. I cant wait to see my kids again for a few days. I leave on the 10th and get back to LAX on the 11th. Just wanted to let you know I am okay. However, things did get a little hairy on the mountain. I have walked 45 miles in 5 days. Enough said...

I love you soo much!


Sunday, May 31, 2009

I can't believe that my time here is almost over.


This will be a quick email since things are a little crazy around here today. The group leaves this afternoon to go back to America and Cecily and I are staying to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro. We leave for Tanzania on Tuesday morning on a bus and our climb will go from the 2nd to the 8th. Wish us luck!

Last night we took the group and some of the staff here to a nice dinner. It was a hilarious group. We had Wambu, the village elder who is the African version of Chuck Norris, Peter the welder who made the ovens, Jackton the most humble leader I know who runs the show around here, and Laurent the cooking teacher. The place we ate at is called the Carnivore and all they served was meat...literally. We ate crocodile, ostrich, pork ribs, turkey, chicken, beef, etc. By the end of the meal I felt like I had a noah's arc battle in my stomach. It was definitely an experience.

I can't believe that my time here is almost over. I have received dozens of letters from the students here thanking me for being here. Although Cecily and I will be here for two more days, we have already begun to say our goodbyes. Today we are making lunch for the Texas A&M group who came this week. Also, I am riding to the airport with the group to say a tearful goodbye. I have so much to tell and I will try and write an email before I leave for Tanzania. I love you all so much!

Hakuna Matata,


Monday, May 25, 2009

Back from safari!!!‏

Jambo! Hello!

I am back from safari and it was amazing!!! It is my hope that someday we will be able to take a safari all together. It was seriously unforgettable. We left the village here early on Friday morning to drive to Nairobi where the safari people were picking us up. The nine of us (one person didn't go) got picked up by vans with tops that can pop off and traveled 8 hours into the middle of the Sarengetti (I have no clue how to spell that). The drive was beautiful with a unique mixture of plains, valleys, and rolling hills. Wherever we looked there were Masei men and women. The Masei are a tribe that are known for their skills in killing lions with spears. The Masei have ears that hang down to their shoulders and are decorated with many different types of earring. All Masei wear red cloaks and believe that all the cattle in the world belong to them. They will "reclaim" cattle from other tribes (also called stealing in the rest of the world) because they deeply believe that they own all the cows in the world. Also Masei only eat cows. They drink the cow blood, eat the meat, use their fur for various things, and use their horns as cups. The Masei men are burned at the age of 15 on their legs and are not allowed to show any pain. They are burned in a ceremony when they officially become a man. I saw young Masei boys, probably no older than 10, hearding groups of hundreds of cattle with only a stick. I laughed as I tried to picture Jason or Daniel in charge of hundreds of cows as they wear their red cloak dresses. It was a funny image.

We arrived at Sarova Mara game camp in time for a late lunch and I thought I had arrived in heaven. I did not know that we were in a 5 star lodge with an amazing buffet. I was so appreciative of all of the food and it felt good to eat food I am used to again. I even did a happy dance when I walked into the bathroom and there was a seat, not a hole in the ground, and TOILET PAPER. Amazing. We stayed in tents with beds and wood floors and the first real shower I have taken in weeks. We went on a game drive later that afternoon with Jon our guide who loved to sing Hakuna Matata from the lion king. We litterally drove off the lodge property and saw heards of elephants! We also saw girrafes, hippos, rhinos, cheetas hunting, gizzele, wort hogs, and sooo many lions. I couldn't even breathe when we drove up to a lion barely 10 feet away. We saw an entire pride of lions with 10 cubs all playing with one another and pissing their parents off. Sound familiar? The next day after another 6 am game drive with Jon we had the whole day to relax by the pool until our evening game drive. There were many Masei men that worked at the place we stayed and I challenged one to a game of ping pong just because I thought it would be a funny image (a westerner and a tribal man in a red dress playing ping pong). Sadly I got beat every time so I decided to get the group and teach him frisbee. It was also a very funny image. However, when I came back from the evening safari the Masei appeared out of the bushes to inform me that he had to speak with me after the Masei put on their tribal dance. I had no clue what to expect or what he wanted. What came to follow was an epic story I will never forget.

The Masei dance began and the Masei I had played ping pong with showed up in a HUGE headress. Apparently, his father lived to be 120 and became a king to the Masei since he was the oldest person from his generation. When his father died, his oldest son Kayoni became the next king. I had been playing ping pong with a Masei king. The headdress was the mark of the king. They did an interesting dance and chant which was unknown to me a marriage dance. After the dance I was pulled aside by the Masei king and was proposed to! I was asked to stay in Kenya and be his Queen forever. He even said that he would give my parents 100 cows as a dowery!p.s. A normal Masei woman is worth 8 cows. I tried not to laugh picturing what you would do with a hundred cows, Dad. Of course, I declined. So don't worry I am not an African queen and I am coming home. However, it would have been an interesting life. The group now calls me Masei queen as a joke. Haha. Next time I guess I won't play ping pong and frisbee with a Masei in large groups because it gives the impression you want to marry that person. I cant wait to show you all the pictures so you will know how funny the situation was.

We returned from safari last night and we realized that this is the last week here for the group. I will be climbing Kilimanjaro next week!!! My flight leaves Kenya on the 10th and I will be back in LA on the 11th. I will try and email a few more times before I leave. I miss hearing all of your voices! Did you ever tell my mom that I am safe? Oh, I wanted to tell you how big of a deal Obama is in Kenya. Since Obama is Kenyan he is a heroic figure here. I see newspaper clippings of him on walls of restaurants and even amongst the slum. I told someone here that I voted for Obama and they asked to shake my hand as they thanked me. How inspiring is it that we have a leader who is uniting cultures as opposed to destroying them? I thought you would like that, Dad. Please give me an update on life back home.

I will be teaching cooking all week since the three ovens we built are done! I am also teaching public speaking tomorrow and conducting one more organizational workshop before I leave. Even though I am leaving Africa soon, I think a part of me will always be here. I hope one day you all will travel here with me to see how inspiring and uplifting this place is even under the deepest struggle and poverty. Plus, everyone needs to go on one safari in their life! I love you all very very much.

Your Masei queen,


Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Let me update you on life in Kenya

Let me update you on life in Kenya. Last weekend we went to Mombassa, which is the coast of Kenya. Before we boarded our 14 hour train we spent the day in Niarobi. I visited the bases where the street kids come from and realized the struggle of life on the streets. As we passed out bread and talked with them you could see the lack of hope that life would get better on their faces. When we arrived they tried to hide their drugs but it was too much of a temptation for them for the half hour we spent at each base. Slowly, they would reach into their pockets or down their shirts and pull out their glue bottles. You see, there are not drugs here like there is in America. Drugs like we know are too expensive so their drug of choice is glue mixed with gasoline. This pungent combination is sniffed all day leaving them numb to the world and thier eyes have turned bright yellow from the combination of drugs and malnutrition. I kept seeing ironies all day. The first was that one of the bases was next to a bed factory. In the same glance there were people lying in the street and people making beds.

After we visited the bases we went to Mathari, which is the 2nd biggest slum in all of Africa! There is no contextual reference I could make to put the reality of this place into perspective. We got off the bus and dozens upon dozens of children ran towards us. Some of the children couldn't be more than two and some of the smaller kids were being held by other kids. This mob of children, most with big bellies from starvation, kept following us. I kept looking around to see if I could spot a watchful eye of a parent nearby....but there were none to be found. One little girl in scrappy clothes and barefeet kept holding onto my skirt, trying to keep up with me. We were walking on sharp pieces of trash and rocks (there is no garbage system there) and I couldn't stand to see her walk on it. I carried her the rest of the way and she fell asleep in my arms. I felt like it was the first time she was able to relax in quite a while. Another girl wore a dirty shirt, clearly from America, that said "princess." I couldn't help be disgusted at the irony that this girl was the furthest thing from a princess I had ever seen. Yet, she deserved to me a princess just like any other little girl. I asked Jackden, a teacher at the orphanage who grew up in Mathari, where the parents are. He told them that most live on the streets and a few wait for thier mothers to get home at night from trying to collect food. You see, there is a high rate of divorce in the slums becasue life is so hard. The husband leaves, and the mom is left to try and find food. He said that most of the children wont live and most of the young girls will get raped in the streets at night. It was devestating...almost unbearable. We went inside the house Jackden grew up, a 10ft by 15ft shack with no ventalation. There was one bed, a pile of cushions on one side, and a bowl next to the bed which was the kitchen. The kids sleep on the ground and the parents sleep on bed. There is no poverty in America that is comparable to this.

We boarded the train, which was from 1900 and did have electricty, thankfully. However, I don't know what would have been better, seeing all the cocroaches we slept with or not? I did wake up and see an elephant out my window though! The train passed the most remote villiages and towns. There were huts made out of mud and sticks in the middle of the beautiful brush. Another irony that beauty can be the backdrop of poverty. When the trian would stop, as it often did, the children would emerge out of the bush to stare at the Muzungos. Although they only spoke Swahili I was able to have a pretty humorous game of Simon says with them. We arrived at Mombasa the next morning and took a Matato (a taxi) to Matwapa (the place where we were staying). We found a hostile for 5 dollars a night and let me tell you, I got what I paid for. The place was in the middle of nowhere, probably a 25 minute drive through an abandon dirt road. We all nervously joked on the ride there that the taxi driver was taking us to the middle of nowhere to kill us. When we got to the hostile there was a sign that said "closed till july." Somehow a man appeared and let us in and and told us to stay since we had a revervation. He then disappeared leaving us all to wonder if he was a figment of our imagination. We stayed in huts on the coast of the Indian Ocean without showers. The place was beautiful and in the morning we watched the indigenous fisherman collect fish and even octopus! One woman was beating an octopus on a rock (appearantly that is how you tenderize octopus). We had a relaxing weekend swimming in the ocean and walking along the beach looking at the slave ruins from when the Arabs who would export slaves from the coast. Speaking of Arabs, I had no clue until I was told, that Mobassa was 99% Islamic. The group of 10 Muzungos got some interesting looks all weekend.

We came back on the equivilent of a greyhound bus. The trip was a hot and smelly 10 hours. Each time we would stop the bus would get bombarded with vendors trying to sell us things. Imagine being at a baseball game and every hot dog man is trying to get you to buy something. However, this wasn't a baseball game you want to be at; this is a game between poverty and desperation. Sometimes the bus would stop and I would try to hide so that no one could see that I was white. When we finally got back to the orphange it was quite a relief. I felt like I was home and we were greeted by excited children eager to see us return.

Yesterday, I went to Niarobi with the four other girls and Jackden to get fabric. Jackden teaches the sewing school and they are going to make me a dress so he wanted me to pick out a fabric I wanted. Apparently when we were walking Jackden spotted a mad inside the van and he started running after him. I watched him catch the man who tried to run and drag him back to the car. He told the man to relax, which I though was funny, and that if he found anything missing he would need to give it back. A crowd of hundreds surrounded the van to watch the scene. The man did not take anything because the bag he wanted did not have any money. Jackden told the man to leave and walked him outside of the crowd which was disapointed that there was no drama. But the real suprise came when Jackden said that if he had gotten upset at the man the crowd would have stoned him to death on the streets right there. I was in disbelief but Jackden said that he had seen it happen. Even if the police come, they will let the criminal be stoned. I couldn't imagine people in suits on their way to work picking up a stone and helping to persecute a man who did not tresspass against them personally...especially a petty theft.

Last night I did get to eat a bacon cheese burger and a vanilla milkshake from a place started by Pepperdine students in Niarobi. I don't know if the food was that good, but it tasted like heaven. Hopefully it will hold me over for a few more weeks. It is harder and harder to get hungry for white rice and rotten corn. I haven't gotten sick yet, but keep your fingers crossed. On Friday, I leave for safari! I will email you with updates when I return. The ovens are almost done and I have spent the week teaching different types of cookie recipies. I know this email is long, but I wanted to keep you in the know.
Asante sana (thank you),


Thursday, May 14, 2009

Yesterday, we made over 200 bread rolls

Yesterday, we made over 200 bread rolls that we bagged up to pass out to the street bases where the kids at this orphange have come from. Unfortunately, there is not enough room at the orphanage for all of the kids in Eastleigh so many of the kids on the street with have a much different fate than the ones here. After we pass out the bread, which we are told is going to be utter chaos, we are going to Jackton's mothers place. Jackton is one of the leaders here and he wants us to cheer his mother up who just lost a son due to illness. Afterward, we are going to catch a night train with no electricity to Mambassa, which is the coast of Kenya. We will be given candles on the train since we will be on the train for 13 hours overnight. It will surely be an adventure!

This week has been spent cooking, teaching, and building the ovens. I have taught English and frisbee to the computer student when we didn't have electricity yesterday.I even conducted a seminar for the leaders at the orphange on how improve the communication within the organization. Finally, I am putting that degree to work. It was interesting that I was so intently listened to among a group of adults. I know if I conducted a training session in corporate America no one would listen to a 22 year old girl. However, my education is so vaulable here and it gives me a mouthpiece by which to speak. We also brought the kids profession chef coats and hats and they were overjoyed. I wish I could have captured Moses's face, the chef here, when he got a coat and hat.

Each day is its own adventure here when it comes to food. There are cockroaches everywhere and I have gotten used to eating things with cockroach appearing out of no where. The other night at dinner, a cockroach fell into one of the Pepperdine students eye. It was quite funny. There are rats in the food closet and they eat corn that is half decayed and eaten by the bats at night. Last night I found a moth in my food and this morning I took a shower with a lizzard. I must say that I haven't been as hungry over here because it is hard for me to eat the food knowing that the food I have consumed in my life has been so much cleaner. However, they don't know any different, so it makes no difference to them.

I have still been running everyday, but the group of shoeless African orphans that run the 4 miles with me has increased. Yesterday on our run I had to put out a fire that had been started by someone with the wrong intentions. Left unnoticed, the person's house would have surly been destroyed. After I put out the fire with dirt I got chased by two goats. The wildlife here belongs to people but they dont have money for fences so they just wander around. I cant even tell you how many goats, bulls, cows, and chickens I wait for each day as they cross the various dirt paths around the village. The other day I was running through a field and it had a dip in it so I was prevented from seeing anything in the dip. I almost ran into a full sized bull who looked unsurprised by me. I, on the other hand, had to jump start my heart again.

I have just been informed that Jackten has come for us, so I must go. I will tell you about Wambu (who has one wooden leg, so I call him wooden leg Wambu) in my next letter. I love you and I will tell you more stories later.

Nacupende (I love you),


Monday, May 11, 2009

I am so amazed by the people here

I truly believe that we would love and live differently if people could see the human faces and the way they live in other parts of the world. If we truly believe that all men are created equal, it would be impossible for us to let others live the way that they do. I am so amazed by the people here. They are so happy with so little and I see people in the US more unhappy with the more they collect. Here the children are fed well in the orphanage, which is called Made in the Streets. All of the kids at the orphanage are street kids without parents. They all came from the streets of Eastleigh and some of them have been forced to fight, steel, or have sex for money. None of the kids have HIV but some have been on the streets since age three. They are so thankful to live here where they have uniforms and three meals a day and an education. Education is a privledge here because it is their ticket out of poverty. Although the kids are fed here they are still malnourished and all of them look drastically younger than you would guess becuase lack of nutrition has stunted their growth. I sat on the bus on the way here with a 20 year old who looked younger than Jason. None of the people here are tall and I am about the average height.Here, to eat meat once a week is living well. The meat that they usually eat is goat. Chicken is had maybe once a year. P.s. I saw a chicken get killed the other day on our safari.

Speaking of our day safari, it was amazing. We drove through the vast landscape over the bumpy roads until we reached "Wambu's mountain." The view looked like something out of the Lion King. There is something spectacular about the rock mountains overlooking thousands of wild animals. The tractor we took had a problem and we walked around while it got fixed. Wambu told us to be careful of the cobras and pythons and tigers. I tried to not look as nervous as I was, but we got back safely. That day was filled with countless opportunities to take pictures that could have easily made it onto the cover of national geographic. There was a women we drive by who was hearding goats in her traditional tribal clothing and a huge bushel of sticks on her back for a fire. Although the terrain was rough, she was barefoot. Some of the kids that run with me for miles, run without shoes. Its unbelievable. We stopped on the way back and had goat infested with flies, but it would be a disrespect to not eat it. I joked with the group on what rating the place would get in America and the consenus was that if there are more flies in the establishment than people, its not a good sign. The man who killed the chickens out front walked through the restaurant/hut like it wasn't a big deal to drip blood all over the place. When we left the hut all of the village children shreeked with excitement because they all waited patiently outside to see the Muzungos come out. They ran and followed the car as we left waving by and screaming with excitement. We seem to cause a commotion like that wherever we go.

After the safari we were stuffed but Wambu wanted us to come over for dinner which was goat stew. I have a whole new appreciation for your stews now, Dad. Of course we ate again but I noticed that the wife was never seen even when we asked for her to come out of the kitchen. All of Wambu's daughters served us the food and washed each of our hands. It is quite different here. Also, kids are raised by everyone here. The young ones that belong to the teachers here are taken care of by everyone. I now understand what it means to say "It takes a village to raise a child."

I will be spending the week building the oven and on Friday we are going to Mambassa on an overnight train to see the coast of Kenya. I will try and keep you updated on the adventures here. I wish you could experience this with me. Remember how "wealthy in water you are." Most people here have water only 1.5 days a week, and that is the water they have to buy from the well or steal. It is amazing that we have water all the time at the orphanage.

I love you all and I hope all is well back home. Thank you for all of your love and support...you guys are the best! Please know that I am safe and having the time of my life, living simply in Kamulu.


Saturday, May 9, 2009

Each day has been its own adventure

I can't believe I haven't even been here a week; I feel like I already have a lifetime of stories to tell. Each day has been its own adventure that would make an epic story. I will try to fll you in quickly becuase I am waiting for one of the villiage elders, named Wambu, to pick us up to go on a day safari. This place is remarkably beautiful. The landscape is green and lush with small mountains in the distance. However, it is the sky that take my breath away. The sky looks like it goes on forever here! I have been waking up early to milk Emily. Funny story, I was milking emily and she was not happy with me and the African with me who was teaching me said, "She is mad becuase you are wasting her time." I didn't know I could waste a cows time, but I did becuase I am so bad at milking her. After Emily I have tea with the girls at the orphanage and then we all go to chapel to sing for about an hour. After chapel the adventures begin. I have gone into other villages where women carry bundles on their head or buckets of water that will be used for the day. We are so lucky to have a well here at our desposal. They say we are "wealthy in water" here.

At the end of the day I go running with some of the boys at the orphanage on the villiage roads that are all nameless. One of the boys named, Titus, ran me for 6 miles the other day! It is funny running with the Africans because I am like a celebrity when I run through the villiage. Since I am one of the only, if not the only, white person they have seen people drop what they are doing or come out of their house just to see the Muzungo (or white person). I run and I hear people say Muzungo and point. The same thing happens when we take public transportation. You'd think we were like Paris Hilton in America! Haha. The other day a boy saw us walking towards him on the road and bowed at our feet saying "white man, white man." It was a little awkward to say the least. Yesterday we drove into the city to get supplies for the oven and we thought the gas gauge was broken...it wasn't. We ran out of gas and everyone on the street watched all these muzungos pushing the car with me steering. It was hilarious, you'd think it was a 4th of July parade. I also saw two cobras yesterday and a tranchula when we went to buy bricks for the oven.

This coming week will be spent building the ovens becuase we now have all the supplies. We have been eating some interesting things here. We usually have rice and beans but we eat a lot of Andazi, Champati, and Ugali. All of which are pretty flavorless but we definitely dont go hungry. Yesterday, I ate goat....I wouldn't reccomend it but you eat what you are served here and if you dont it is an insult. I was in Eastleigh this week and had something that made me really sick but there are no public restrooms anywhere. I found one that I had to pay for and they gave me two squares of toilet paper to use. I got inside and waited in line for awhile wondering why the women carried buckets of water into the stalls. I followed lead and found out that you do your business on the ground and then take the bucket to wash everything into a small hole. I will never forget having the runs on a floor in Eastleigh...worst experience....best story.

Okay well I could keep writing but I have to go. Wambu is taking us on a safari and then we are having dinner at his house. Oh so here in the villiage they still have dowrys for marriage. One of the leaders at the orphanage told me he had to give the mother and father of his wife eight cows and two goats! Crazy! Anyway, I love this place. It has already been an adventure of a lifetime.