5.22.11

May 22, 2011

Well, its Sunday afternoon and I am lying on a blanket out on the KEFRI grounds. Pat and Leah left this morning for Mombasa, and I’ll be headed there as well on Wednesday. On Friday we were finally able to move into the rooms at KEFRI, and away from the cold showers and lizards at KARI down the road. It is much more convenient and much cheaper, not to mention being nicer. The only downside is not having easy access to the Muguga Club. I haven’t quite figured out how to buy beer in Nderi, the nearest village – I think you have to exchange bottles at the bar, but I don’t currently own any empty bottles.

Saturday was epic. It was our first venture into Nairobi via matatu, which we were all nervous about. The plan was to take a matatu into the city center then catch a bus out to the Kenya Wildlife Service headquarters at Nairobi National Park. There, we would meet up with some of the other IU students interning here in Kenya, and check out the Animal Orphanage, for injured and hurt critters. Sounds pretty simple, right?

We left the house around 10 am, and walked up the hill to Nderi, where we picked up the matatu, parked and fuming on the side of the dirt street. I never in a million years would have imagined myself in one of these contraptions. Imagine a small Euro-looking minivan. Now age it 30 years. Rip out all of the interior so you have a metal floor and roof, and somehow bolt eight seats in the back. Oh, and don’t forget to rip off all of the mirrors and remove the shocks. Squeeze in twelve people and there you have it, a Kenyan matatu. There is the driver up front, with a helper, and a conductor in the back taking money – its such a tight fit that they are literally crawling over passengers to give you change, and sometimes, just leave the sliding door open and hang out of the side of the vehicle!

We made it to town, and got out at what looked like the city center. I’ve examined Nairobi on Google maps pretty extensively, but it didn’t help. There are no signs and no traffic lights. People are just running in and out of traffic, dodging cars. Chaos, but strangely, not very many horns. It’s really quite interesting to watch traffic – there aren’t really any rules, so people are weaving and cutting through congestion, everyone is merging, but because everyone is expecting it, cars move right along. I think I would probably get whiplash from trying to look in every direction at once.

We stopped and asked a security guard where to catch the bus that we needed, which began the theme of the day. No one knows locations. Only directions. Insert colonial accent:

Bryson:

Excuse me. Do you know where to find bus 24 to Langata Road? Nairobi National Park?

Kenyan:

(not understanding accent)

Nairobi?

Bryson:

Yes. Nairobi National Park. You know, Langata Road? Karen (it’s a town)?

Kenyan:

Oh! Yes, yes, yes. Sawa (ok). Park. You must take bus 35.

Bryson:

Bus 35? Not 24?

Kenyan:

Oh yes. 35. It is just there. Straight. Then right.

(gestures down the street)

Bryson looks. There are a million buses, pointing in every direction.

Bryson:

(mimics gesturing, looking particularly white)

Just there? Stay straight, then right?

Kenyan:

Yes.

Bryson:

Ok! Asante sana!

(leaves, turns to companions)

Did you guys get that?

(everyone shakes head)

Now repeat the process as needed, receiving different bus numbers and routes, but similar directions and hand gestures, until you arrive at your destination. I’ve got to say, everyone has been happy to help, and Kenyans are some of the friendliest people I have gotten to meet. However, their public transportation system is a zoo, and not to be tackled by the faint of heart. The key is to go with the flow, and realize that eventually, you’ll (probably) get to where you are going.

Anyway, we made it to the bus (it actually WAS bus 24), and headed out to the park, to meet with the other interns. Nairobi National Park is the only national park in Africa abutting an urban center. You can literally drive 10 minutes away from Kenyatta Avenue, and see all of the Big Five with the exception of elephants. That’s lion, leopard, cape buffalo, and rhino. You’ve seen all of those creatures at the zoo. No biggie. However, I guarantee you’ve never seen them while wild baboons prowl around on the paths behind you. Those things are bad news and will stop at nothing to steal your sandwich - and you had better give it to them. They are total thugs. At one point we heard a commotion and turned to see a big male baboon walking on top of one of the cheetah pens – I think it was taunting them a little. The cats were going crazy, growling and trotting back and forth. The monkey, which was a lot bigger at eye level, sprang into the middle of the enclosure, snatched a morsel of food, and vaulted up the 20 foot fence on the other side. The whole pen was shaking, branches were waving, and the cheetahs were snarling. Intense. Don’t mess with baboons.

The baboons definitely added some flavor to the whole experience, but this was not like a zoo back at home. There was no looking at a lion from the top of a forty foot pit, or from behind bullet proof glass. The only thing separating you from the beasts was a simple chain link fence, which did not seem like much protection at all when the cats starting pacing in arms reach. Watching lions from a distance at the zoo, or on Animal Planet is very much different from the real thing. From three feet away, it is easy to see that you really don’t stand a chance against a predator of this magnitude. I was standing eye to eye with the young male lion in the enclosure and we both knew that I was prey. I can’t wait to go on safari and see them in the wild!

As we were peering at the mongoose cage (Riki-Tiki-Tavi has got some crazy red eyes!) one of the ranger guys walked up and offered to take us in the cheetah cage for 10 bucks. 10 bucks? Done. Let’s make a shady deal in an African wildlife park. All the employees were in on it, and we had to wait while they distracted the supervisor. While we were waiting, our guy took us to the back of the compound where some monkeys were hanging out (no baboons). There were Sykes and Vervets, and another type with which I was not familiar. The one we were interested in was a young Vervet, which the ranger coaxed onto our shoulders with peanuts. I could hear it chewing in my ear, and it was interested in my wristbands – it crawled down my arm to pick at them.

We finally got the go-ahead for Operation Shady Cheetah Picture. I didn’t realize that these were the cheetahs that had just been chasing the baboon. Nor did I realize that they would be eating while we went in the cage. Hmm. Lets see. Two keyed up cheetahs in attack mode, who are also anxious to be fed? This is a good idea. The guys slung two huge beef shoulders onto a wooden platform and waved me into the cage. You’ve got to be kidding me. You shouldn’t touch a strange dog while he’s eating, and you want me to sit on a platform with two six foot long cheetahs eating raw meat? Let’s do it. I even stroked them after the keepers did it without being disemboweled – cheetah hide feels a little bit like touching a horse with his winter coat – the hair is fairly long, and very coarse.

After escaping the cheetah pen (a crowd of people had gathered to watch us sit with the cheetahs, and the rangers were raking in the cash), we caught the matatu back to Nairobi to get an early supper and a beer. Lonely Planet to the rescue! We found a restaurant close to the old American embassy, the one that was bombed back in 1998 (?), and had Indian food (it is prevalent) accompanied by some ice cold Tuskers.

Supper was over, which meant we now had to find our way home. Our newly found navigational confidence was soon dashed to bits. As opposed to looking for a bus, with a dude hanging out the window holding a numbered sign, matatus are clustered together along certain corners on Kenyatta and Moi Avenues (the main drags). They follow the same routes as the buses, but you have to know which bus route you need, as well as where the proper fleet of matatus can be found. We walked for an hour and a half before we found the right spot, which turned out to be a back alley that we would never have stumbled across had someone not led us to it. By the end of the search, we were darting and running across four lanes of traffic with the best of the Kenyans. Did I mention that the city is polluted? I wiped my nose with a Kleenex when we got back and it came away black.

Though the cheetahs and monkeys were pretty cool, arguably the best part of my day was walking into a clean room and taking a HOT SHOWER! The first hot water I’ve not had to drink in over a week – the Kenyans drink everything hot because it is winter, even Kool-aid, which is popular for breakfast.

That brings me to my blanket out on the KEFRI lawn. I was just interrupted by a wedding party, which drove up in cars adorned with bows and ribbons. I think they were as surprised to see me as I was to see them – the compound is deserted. They were having a good time taking wedding pictures; all the kids were running on the grass playing and whispering about the resident mzungu. The pastor came and hung out with me for a while, then invited me to church. I guess I look like I need it!

I walked up to the market at Nderi earlier to buy some fruit for the week, along with some peppers with which to try to make some bean soup, that is currently cooking. I’ve got no stock or seasoning, so I don’t have high expectations. The KEFRI folks supplied us with a burner on top of a gas can, essentially what you would cook crawfish on. It’s burdened with an absurdly large pot at the moment.

Anyway, I’ve come back outside, leaving the soup to boil its way to a middle class finish. The sun is setting and the rays are finding their way through the deep green leaves of the tree in front of me, and the tops of the distant wood line. The shadows are lengthening and insects are hatching and spreading their wings in flight across the yard. As they idly drift and float in and out of the setting rays, they light up, gleaming. A spider web in between a split trunk wavers in the breath of the evening breeze, and glimmers like gossamer. I can hear people softly chatting on the road away up the hill, heading home. A cow lows and I can just smell the hint of wood smoke from a cook-fire. Swifts and swallows are twisting over my head.

I’ll take myself to my supper. Best.

5.20.11

May 20, 2011

{excuse the retroactive posting - internet is a scarce commodity around here}

The week has really flown by! Pat (the final IU intern) arrived Tuesday morning, and Wednesday night we became official members of the Muguga Club, a small bar and club attached to the compound where we were staying. Our post-work activity of choice has been throwing the Frisbee and drinking warm beer, and while we were imbibing, a guy in a suit walked by laughing and asked to play. We tossed it his way, and after throwing it back, he invited us up to the club for drinks. Turns out that he, and the other guys inside were the directors of the Kenya Agricultural Research Institute (KARI). They were thrilled to have some new faces to talk to, and bought us round after round of drinks. Because it is wintertime, they were drinking a mixture of hot water, lime and Viceroy, which they subsequently forced upon Leah. I dubbed the drink ‘Hot-to-Trot’, though I stuck with Tusker, which is the Bud Light of the southern hemisphere. Aside from some new jokes, we got a great picture of the economic, political, social and environmental issues currently being discussed by leadership in Kenya.

Kenya is beset by a host of environmental issues, most of which are functions of a rapidly growing population and limited capital resources, though politics plays perhaps the most significant role. However, the issue at the forefront of everyone’s mind seems to be global climate change, indeed, the projects we will be working on this summer fall into this category. Interestingly, the effects of climate change are more evident at global extremes - in the Arctic and Antarctic, and here at the equator. Glaciers cap both Mount Kenya and Kilimanjaro, and at the turn of the 20^th century, both peaks were visible from Nairobi, though now you are lucky to see either peak due to automobile emissions. According to one of the directors who drives to work in the mornings, the glaciers have become essentially invisible to the naked eye from the roadways – they have shrunk to about a quarter of their original sizes within the past three decades. I found it disconcerting to talk about the shrinking of glaciers in Africa of all places, but the location seemed to make the topic all the more dramatic.

Along the same vein, he started talking about regional temperatures in general. This time of year is the Kenyan winter, and as a boy, he recalled that temperatures would fall into the low teens (Celsius), and that at night, we would have needed thick wool sweaters to be comfortable. In the Highlands, a light frost was never out of the question. I was painfully aware that my attire consisted of flip-flops and a t-shirt.

Higher global temperatures are playing havoc with weather patterns in sub-Saharan Africa, Kenya included. Droughts that used to occur every fifteen years now happen every three. Drier, hard-packed soil is not as good at soaking up moisture when the rains do come, and as a result, Kenya is having problems with the runoff of valuable topsoil, which in turn pollutes rivers and other watercourses. KEFRI is placing much emphasis on reforestation – less than 5% of natural forest-cover remains in Kenya, exacerbating the runoff problem. Replanting forests serves numerous purposes including water filtration, improving and maintaining biodiversity, soil conservation and preventing desertification. Trees also serve as carbon sinks. The Directorate at KARI, as an agricultural institute, are devoting significant resources to developing seeds and strains that may be cultivated in a hotter, drier environment. Also, to promoting agricultural practices that conserve soil and minimize the environmental impacts of subsistence farming.

Any decent environmental discussion must also address politics, and it was interesting to hear the opinions of the heads of a government institute. The last round of elections triggered outbreaks of violence across the country, based on allegations of corruption. As with many African states, most people align themselves along tribal lines, so even though someone is Kenyan, they also belong to one of over 50 different tribes. The balance of power in the country is split amongst the three most numerous tribes: the Kikuyu, Luya and Luo. Government positions are for the most part dominated by these three tribes. The president of Kenya is Mwai Kibaki, a Kikuyu.

I steered away from asking about violence. Most Kenyans that I have talked to seem mortified that such a thing happened in their country, and fearful that something similar might happen in next year’s election if there is even a hint of unfairness. Instead, I asked how they thought the current administration has performed. I was expecting the top answer to have something to do with infrastructure investment or employment – driving through Nairobi, there are construction and road projects everywhere (it needs the upgrade, too). Surprisingly, the answer I got was that Kibaki has increased personal freedom. According to one of the directors, we would not even have been able to have this conversation during any of the previous presidential tenures. It must be noted that Kenya has only had two presidents before Kibaki: Kenyatta for 14 years and Moi for 24 years. There are pictures of either Kenyatta or Moi hanging in every room and office in the KEFRI compound.

Wow, this post has ended up being much longer than I intended. The moral of the story is that there is no moral. There are good things going on in Kenya, and some not so good. From an environmental perspective, institutional responses to pressing issues are probably best and are happening as we speak. However, the average Kenyan cultivating corn on the edges of the Mau forest fails to see the connection between cutting down a few trees to make new fields and desertification in Turkana. Leadership has the same goals as in any country, to be re-elected. The complication though is that Kenya lies at a nexus of climate change, and thus a balance must be found between growing the economy and improving the environment. These things take time. Hopefully leadership will take the proper measures.

Oh. Interestingly, several of the people I have met around KEFRI speak Russian. Back in the Cold War days, the Soviets flew African academics and leaders to Moscow to be trained or educated – I assume that we were doing the same types of things. Coming across these individuals is almost like taking a step back in time, or finding a fossil.

ANDDDD, I finally got a straight answer on my project for the summer. KEFRI is leasing tracts of land from private landowners near Kakamega Forest in the west. The lease terms are for 25 year periods, trees will be planted (not sure what types), and at the end of the lease the timber will be cut. The idea is to provide a sustainable timber culture and incentivize farmers to plant trees. Landowners will cultivate a variety of products within the forest tracts, like aloe vera and some other plants that I was not familiar with. Cattle will be grazed in certain parts. KEFRI provides the seeds, and guarantees a final market for all the goods produced – they either have access, or own the necessary upstream factories, like lumber mills. My job will be to construct a business plan for the endeavor. It’s going to be a hefty project, but it is exactly the type of thing I was hoping to do. More details to follow soon, and hopefully not three pages worth! Leah and Pat are leaving for Mombasa on Sunday, and I will join them there on Wednesday to explore the Sacred Forest. As we learned early this week, the Sacred Forest is home to tons of elephants!

One last thing. Seeing those monkeys the other morning was no big deal. There are troops of them everywhere. The people don’t like them because they get into the gardens.

Best!

5.17.11

{Retroactive Post!}

May 17, 2011

The first day of work was Monday, and I must say that it started off auspiciously. After a hearty breakfast of eggs, white bread and Wheatabix, we headed down the road to KEFRI and rounding the first bend, startled a pair of vervet monkeys! Leah (the other IU intern) dove for her camera. I countered brilliantly with, “Hey! Look at the monkeys!” The driver laughed. We aren’t tourists at all.

The KEFRI compound is really nice, and has a bit of a university feel to it. You enter through a big green metal gate, opened for you by uniformed guards and make your way up a long driveway to a roundabout between two large, white buildings connected by a sky-walk. The campus is covered in trees, all with handy identification signs - I was immediately enamored with ‘tree aloe vera’, literally an aloe plant that is 20 feet tall. Flowers are everywhere – I am currently looking at a giant purple bougainvillea and a cactus??

What followed was a typical ‘first day at the office.’ I met the other interns, mostly from universities here in Nairobi and got a quick introduction to the facilities – we are all eight of us (with the addition of Pat, the third IU intern) jam-packed into one office, but it is fun to kid with each other. After lunch, we finally met our boss, with whom I have been corresponding since November. He is extremely laid back, and extremely intelligent. As with all the Kenyans that I have met, he is exceptionally hospitable and truly wants to make sure that we were having a pleasant stay in his country.

Of course the first questions we started asking were about projects. Unfortunately, there was a bit of an ‘information overload’ and Leah and I both walked out of the meeting knowing we would be doing something really cool, but not exactly sure what it was going to entail. We are both interested in climate change and all the projects this summer seem to be tailored accordingly. The project I will be working on is in western Kenya, and will involve taking a look at the profitability of reforestation efforts. Leah will be working on a project on the coast, where KEFRI is studying the effects of climate change on certain tribes who are reliant on the environment for their livelihoods (the Mijikenda??)

After taking a more extended tour of the compound – it essentially is a self sufficient entity, with cafeteria, dormitories, a printing press, library, data room, labs, offices and meeting rooms – our boss offered to drop Leah and I off at a mall across town to do some shopping while he went to take care of some business, and then pick us up on the way back. Of course, we agreed, but were a bit nervous about it – I think we were both envisioning one of the bazaar-like markets we had been seeing on the roadsides that neither one of us would have felt comfortable in exploring. We couldn’t have been more wrong. The road, terrible and packed as ever, wound back away from the city, but lining the sidewalks were prep-schools with ivy covered walls, gas stations, stores, and mansions surrounded by high fences and barbed wire. The posh side of Nairobi, though that still didn’t stop people from herding cattle and sheep on the narrow road-sides.

We were dropped off at a mall you might find in California, complete with food-court and Apple Store. We were able to buy modems for wireless internet (which don’t work), groceries (including Tusker beer and cookies) and I finally picked up a bird book in the bookstore, as well as a couple of novels. Having just a little bit of civilization was totally rejuvenating. The driver had not arrived yet so we even had time to hang out in the food court and nosh on chicken tikka at an Indian restaurant. This was key because the place where we are staying does not provide supper, we don’t have a fridge, and its too far to walk anyplace for food. This was the first dinner we had eaten in a 4 days!

Returning home was an adventure in and of itself. As I mentioned in an earlier post, there are lots of people walking around Nairobi. However once it gets dark, everyone and their brother decides to take a stroll. It’s chaos. Two lane roads become six lanes, cars pass one another in the ditches, horns blare, lights are everywhere, trash is burning in piles, music is blaring from bars, vegetables are being sold by candlelight, people are running across traffic, and packs of matatus are stopping wherever they please . . . but everyone seems to be having a good ol’ time! The traffic also makes Nairobi seem much bigger than it is – I would guess that its around the same size as New Orleans, though there are far more people.

Except for internet, I’m now feeling prepared for the week! The next goal is to get some more specific information on this summer’s project.

Best!

Oh yeah, now that I have some new reading material, I won’t have to keep reading Gorillas in the Mist. Thanks Matt. I now know more about mountain gorillas and their dung than I ever thought possible.

Proper spelling is 'mzungu' not 'wazungu.' Silly American.

May 15, 2011

Last night all the windows were open and geckos were happily chirping outside. The mosquito net rustled in the night breeze, and I felt that all was right with the world. Then the mosquitoes came. They can’t get to you but they buzz around about five inches from your ear, lighting on the fabric, buzzing some more, whining. Though I tried to ignore them, the anticipation of a mosquito landing on the side of my face filled me with rage. So every couple of hours I would awake and stumble drowsily around the room, slapping mosquitoes against the wall and cursing. Fortunately, I killed all the mosquitoes. Unfortunately, I was wide-awake at 3 a.m. Clearly, getting up to squash mosquitoes completely defeats the purpose of having a mosquito net.

After having an early breakfast (I cannot in good faith recommend Wheatabix), we decided to take a hike in the direction that had gotten us lost the day before. About a mile down the road is a giant hayfield, easily a mile long, and teeming with birds. Interestingly, the field is full of what I think are called widowbirds. The males are about the size of a red-winged blackbird at home, have black plumage, with red-orange shoulders and head, with a long plume of tail, about half again as long as their bodies. The females are a dusty tan, with no tail plume – sorry ladies. Anyway, its breeding season for the widowbird, and they were busy trying to impress the girls. Males perch conspicuously on top of grass stems, launch themselves into the air and fly weakly for 30 or 40 yards, calling loudly and displaying their long tails, then disappear back into the grass. Better, they find an open patch of shorter vegetation, and hop up and down on the ground, their tail feathers curled over their head and wings fluttering weakly. The whole thing looks a little bit like the flopping of an epileptic fish. Looking out over the expanse of golden, waving hay, and seeing and hearing these strange birds display across the whole panorama was very impressive, and very unexpected. I spent A LOT of camera space on waving grass, the shadows of clouds, and trying to capture those birds displaying.

After hours of photography, we cut through the woods to return home. The trees were eucalyptus, which I suspect are not native, and a sort of pine, which had clearly been planted. . In the damp bottoms, we saw tracks of duiker, though for the most part, the trails were hard packed clay. Every now and then we would have to step aside for motorcycle taxis careening along through the deep ruts.

Emerging from the woods, we passed the soccer field near KARI. Sunday is the day for soccer in Muguga, and the town had shown up, vuvuzelas in hand, to support the team. Of course, we were once again the only white people, so everyone was staring at us as the children pointed and yelled, “Wazungu!” It all looked a bit too organized to simply walk up and play, so I will wait till I make some friends before venturing out onto the field.

I start work tomorrow, which will be a relief. There really is nothing to do out here in the afternoons other than read, and I have already finished all the books I brought. Kenyan television leaves something to be desired. Five of the eight channels show gospel services, while the other three are soap operas!

Goals for Monday:

1. 1. Get a cell phone

2. 2. Get some internet

3. 3. Get some cash

Best!

5.15.11

May 14, 2011

My flight touched down at the convenient hour of 6:30 a.m., and given that it was also a Saturday, I did not have high hopes that anyone would meet me at the airport. After 45 minutes of visa and baggage, I walked out of the concourse with trepidation, to be greeted by a crowd of drivers waving signs. What a relief that my name was front and center! I never actually found a street address for KEFRI, only a P.O. Box number, so I was going to be in big trouble if I was forced to find my own way by cab. The driver’s name was Elijah, and he was very difficult to understand. As the car pulled onto the road, I noticed that two fences topped with razor wire flanked the west side of the highway, beyond which was flat savannah and acacia. The airport abuts Nairobi National Park and the fence is there to keep the animals from eating everyone. Though the park is literally 10 minutes from downtown, it is as a very successful rhino sanctuary.

In most of the developing countries I have been to, the first difference I always notice is that everyone is walking. Kenya is no exception. People walk right alongside the highway, in the medians, on the shoulders, and are sprinting across in between breaks in the traffic. Dirt trails crisscross every grassy space and closer to the city the byway is packed with homemade stalls, each with its own hand-painted sign. If the sign is written in English, then there is a good chance that it is misspelled.

You only thought we had problems with automobile emissions in the US! Nairobi is exceptionally hazy from all of the smog - I noticed it hovering over the city from the plane. Watching cars drive down the road is kind of like watching the movie Tron. People are constantly cutting each other off, and every vehicle trails a black streak instead of a blue one. I kept waiting for someone to hit a streak and explode, but they just got carbon monoxide poisoning instead. FLYNN!!

I would guess that I saw ten cars built post-1995, and the best vehicles of all were a sort of massive flat-bed/dump-truck. They barrel down the road spewing clouds of exhaust and force other drivers out of the way, all the while the bed is filled with 30 or 40 people standing up waving and smiling to all the people walking on the roadside!

We finally emerged onto the north side of the city, and started climbing into the hill country. Nairobi is located in a region cleverly named the “White Highlands” because of the number of British colonizers who lived in the area. The landscape is reminiscent of England; everything is cool and green, and very fresh after Smokestack-Nairobi. The vegetation is varying and there are flowers everywhere. Lantana is growing in thickets on the roadside. Pine, fir, and cedar are abundant on the hillsides, as well as white-trunked eucalyptus. Many of the slopes have been cleared for agriculture and are dotted with brightly painted homes surrounded by neat rows of maize, interspersed with tea trees.

I arrived at the Kenya Agricultural Research Institute (KARI) at 8:30 a.m., groggy, unshowered and 3 sleeping pills deep. The facility consists of six tile-roofed cottages, each with its own bathroom and mosquito net equipped bed. KARI is located around a mile and a half away from the nearest town of Muguga. After waking up the other student who had already arrived, we got some breakfast, and started making plans to get to town for supplies for the rest of the weekend. Water quality is questionable in Kenya, so the main item on the list was bottled water.

We felt like a hike was in order – she had not been to town yet and I had been sitting in planes for two days, so the idea made sense. Oh, the best laid plans! What should have been an hour-long walk took four! We immediately made the wrong turn out of the gate and walked about a mile in the wrong direction. After many, many pictures, we realized our mistake and headed back. Reaching KARI again, we finally started recognizing some landmarks and got on the right track. It’s very strange to walk around out here since we are the only white people for miles. Most of the small children have never even seen a white person, so as you walk, you hear all the little kids yelling, ‘Wazungu! Wazungu!,’ which means ‘white person’. Even adults stare, though everyone smiles if you speak. Suffice to say, I’m feeling a little out of place. After sweating up and down a series of hills, we finally made it to town, which meant more staring and waving. We bought water, fruit, peanut butter and jelly for about 7 dollars, stuffed it in my pack, and started walking back. All along the way motorcycles carrying passengers were passing us, and honking enthusiastically. Come to find out, these are the local taxis, and it costs about 35 cents to hitch a ride to town. Live and learn.

I got back to the room and fell face-first into bed, where I was rudely awoken by a monster skink rummaging around under my pack. After shaking him out of the blinds, I finally cornered him in the shower and caught him under a shirt. I had no sooner thrown it into the yard and gotten back into bed than I heard a scrabbling sound at the door, and another one was slipping under the frame! I threw my sleeping bag at it to change its mind and stuffed a towel under the door. My room now appears to be ‘lizard-proof’ but I would hate to speak too soon.

The best part so far is that there are HUNDREDS of bird species here in Kenya, four hundred alone here around Nairobi! I’ve already seen numerous hawks, two types of ibis, shrikes, wagtails, weaverbirds, bee-eaters, some old world finches and warblers, and tons of others that I can’t identify. I can’t describe waking up this morning as anything other than a cacophony of bird songs. I am really regretting studying for exams instead of buying a bird-book, so I am hopeful that I will be able to pick one up in Nairobi soon.

Off to bed to get rid of this jetlag. Best!

5.14.11

April 14, 2011

4:00 A.M.

I’ve just awoken 2 hours before our flight is due to land in Nairobi around 6 A.M. What a process this has been! Two and a half days in planes and airports! And strange as it is, we complain about the length of time the flight takes, when our ancestors had to use ships, and trips took months.

Last night, supper was being served over Germany and Italy. It was beautiful to look at the webs of light far below, rolling up and down with the hills, and meandering across the landscape. The mountains, I assume the Dolomites, were particularly pretty as the lights were not strung together haphazardly. Rather, travel corridors were distinct and well lit and surrounded by darkness, perhaps broken by the pinprick of a house. From above, I was reminded of a network of veins and arteries, pulsing away with the lifeblood of capital. The lights, in a sense, represent opportunity, or a map of it. More lights imply that there is money to be made at a particular location, or perhaps a route to be travelled to prosperity.

I opened my eyes about 200 miles south of Khartoum, Sudan. We have flown about another hour and a half and are now cutting across Ethiopia. I have not seen a single light since I woke. Not even a speck. I cannot say that I have been anywhere other than the open ocean and not seen a single speck of light.

The dark continent, indeed.