Welcome home … or at least on the way

So I’m not home yet, but I’m on my way.  Happily seated in an uncomfortable airline seat, on the way back to London where I will spend a day being relatively normal.  I will go for a run, which is marginally socially acceptable.  I will shop for clothing that fits, hopefully without the added assistance of a man popping into the dressing room to suggest a different pant option.  I will sit alone in a pub and drink a pint without an escort, and perhaps (although this one is far less certain) even remain on my own, with thoughts for company, throughout the entirety of said pint.  In case it’s not clear by the previous paragraph.  I am VERY excited.  This should not be misunderstood as any sort of poor reflection on the previous three plus months, merely as a new excitement for another change of scenery, and new activities that are regarded as “normal”.  I will, of course, dreadfully miss being able to eat my food with my hands without sideward glances or perceptions of ill manners.

                               

In the mean time, I sit on (in? …. Going to have to brush up on my American English again, I see.) a plane fascinated by the “food” that has been offered as a snack.  Here is a simplified, or perhaps just interpreted list of the ingredients, in order, without omission on the side of the pack: 

Sugar

Sugar

Starch

Water

Starch

modified animal fat

stabilizer

pectin

“Flavourings”

“natural colours”

Oil

Vegetable concentrates?

“Beeswax”

…. Yummy!  They actually taste quite revolting, in a highly addictive sort of way.  They are marketed as “Wine Gums”  Ah the Brits.  Known the world round for their culinary ……. Individuality?

To those of you more interested in the meadnering thoughts and politically driven commentary that I may or may not have a reputation of providing, I apologize.  With my time here drawing to a close I have remarkably little free time, and by the time I actually do sit down to relax my brain is too fried to write anything meaningful.  No worries though, I still intend to write at least a few more posts about Kenya after I've returned to the states, and I'm sure there will be inspiration a plenty once I return and realize that nothing is as it was, and I have to relearn how to be my version of an american again.  In the mean time - Today I have learned:

- that I too can cultivate a Frienemy ... I use that term in the most 40 year old soccer mom sort of way, as I'm not entirely sure what that word means, but if I understand it at all, Doxycyclene and I are just that.

- bilateral parotitis does not mean swollen parrots on both sides.

- Orchitis is not the King of the Orcs from a fantasy novel.

- how to play African Poker ... which really is nothing at all like Texas' version, and I suspect only played in Kenya.

- that I am apparently that weird ex-pat who disappears into the bush only to reemerge 2 years later, find the other ex-pats and realize that that isn't "how it's done".  Ha!

- that computers and water bottles do not mix.  However, thanksfully, damp computers and Voi dry heat do.  Thank you Voi, disaster averted. 

- swimming is a bit like riding a bike. 

Today I learned:

... that if you google directions from Japan to Los Angeles, google suggests that you kayak from Japan to Washinton state with a stop over in Hawaii.
　...today I learned that although I don't blindly revere fame, I am always moved by those who are famous or in positions of power and yet remain kind and decent human beings.

... that I'm exceptionally good at justifying .... almost anything. Not sure that's a good thing
... that I'm not afraid of ants anymore
　
... that sometimes seeing a dead body is a more effective means of prevention than knowing what caused the death

... that maybe privacy isn't more important than $7 designer jeans

... (remembered) how much I love and miss my family and friends ... sappy, I know.

... how to make african stew (let's hope I can remember)

... how to shell cowpeas ... for my next trick: I will learn how to shell cowpeas without dumping them all over the floor! (not yet accomplished)

... that sometimes having mosquitoes buzz outside of the net is as annoying as having them buzzing inside the net.

Just to lighten things up a bit:

Warthogs!!!

(it's an older picture from Tsavo West, but still fun)

Butterflies Aren't Always Beautiful

I don’t know if I’m just becoming more and more like my Dad, or if I’m becoming more aware of myself as time goes on.  Likely it’s a bit of both.  In the past year I’ve realized just how introverted I am.  This isn’t to say that I don’t interact with others, I’m just selective about how many and which people I interact with; when I venture outside of that – which I do sometimes – it just happens to be painful.  Some may call it snobbish, but I maintain that the difference isn’t in choice, the difference is in level of comfort. 

This tendency is only amplified when moving to a country in which I’m always different, and then of all things selecting a town where I’m nye on famous because I’m so widely recognized by the local citizenry.  I should probably stop here to explain that this isn’t a complaint.  I’m not bemoaning the attention that I get, or the situation that I’m in.  I love it here and I’m very happy, but I’m also coming to terms with the forces that exist within me.  It’s possible that it’s not the interaction with others that I find painful.  I think that it might actually be the anticipation of interacting with others.

My mother used to talk about my father with such wonder.  He never wanted to go out and do anything, but whenever he begrudgingly went out and got involved he always had a good time.  I COMPLETELY UNDERSTAND.   – another side note, I’m sure that right now as my parents read this they’re both denying it, and my dad is at least on some level suddenly concerned for me.  Perhaps I should have prefaced this by saying that it’s my experience, and even if I misunderstood all of what they say (which I doubt), I still identified with it.  I love hanging out with friends.  I really enjoy seeing people that I haven’t seen for a long time, sharing stories, and taking the time to catch up … once I’ve already started.  However, the days or hours leading up to it are usually filled with doubt, conjuring of possible escape plans, and peripheral emotions that add anxiety to what should be pure excitement.

Now, take that tendency and change it to a new context.  I truly enjoy being abroad and learning new languages, instigating bizarre exchanges of culture, and making friends all around the world.  I have a few friends here in Voi, and I like nothing more than to sit around, chat, drink a beer or make some tasty food.  However, on a daily basis, I have to face the world.  I have to engage in simple tasks like grocery shopping, interacting with the housekeeper of the place where I live, and chat with school children who are extraordinarily excited to use their English with the foreigner.  Today I stuttered.  I managed to laugh it off, and have a conversation with the check-out lady in the market, but for 3 horrendous seconds I froze, staring at her, knowing what the answer to her question was, and even knowing it in Swahili, but there was no movement, no speech, no force on earth that could have moved me during those three seconds. 

Oh well.  Nothing else on my list of errands was truly vital.  You’ll have to excuse the late posting of this email though … purchasing more airtime for my modem was on the list after the grocery store, and that had to wait for another day.

Today I learned:

Today I learned ....

... that I'm the most predictable unpredictable cat around.

... that I have more seniority in the hospital than one of the other doctors I've been working with. Sweet!

... Gunshots of unknown origin or trajectory scared the crap out of me.

... the word for a fear of the number 13 ... but I forgot it again

... that Cadbury Top Deck chocolate is good, but Whole nut is better (let the jokes commence!)

... perhaps re-learned how very much I love the 4th of July.

... how to use my stethescope properly. I'm such a dork.

... that the Barclays' loan advertisement is a total rip off of the Old Spice man comercials. Hillarious, and the UK is fallin' down on their copyright enforcement job.

... that Kenyan funerals are generally on Saturday.

... I don't live in a conflict zone .... do I?

There are few things in life that make me stop what I’m doing and write down just what happened and how I feel.  A hail of bullets  near my workplace  qualifies as one of those things.  So that I don’t freak everyone out I should first say that I’m safe, and never was really in any actual danger.  However, near enough that it scared the crap out of me.  It’s been minutes since the firing stopped, but  my hands are still shaking, and I catch myself looking around nervously and reminding myself to breathe. 

The hospital where I work is just meters down the street from a local prison.  A local low security community service sort of prison.  So while there are guards and they do carry guys, the prisoners in their white and black striped uniforms to my experience have always been quite docile and polite.  They bring the hospital staff oranges from the orchard, and keep the landscaping around the hospital in order.  While there are some lifers, most are only in for a month or more, and are just passing the time until they are out again.  Apparently someone was unhappy with the current situation though and just tried to escape. 

The first sign that something was wrong wasn’t actually the pop of the gun.  I heard that … but with all the tuk tuks running on lawn mower-type engines my brain registered it as traffic.  The actual sign was the movement in the line outside my office after the second series of pops.  Each blast coming in pairs as though it were an automatic weapon that someone couldn’t quite manage to only get one shot off.  Pop pop, pause, pop pop, pause, pop pop pop.  I’m not sure if they caught the person or not at this point.  The shots became less frequent, and moved away toward the direction of town.  I suppose I am at the hospital, so if someone was shot you’d think I’d hear about it – but then all gun shot wounds are taken to the military hospital, so who knows.

It’s strange now that as my hands are beginning to stop shaking people are casually lining back up to have their prescriptions stamped and go about their day.  Word is that the prisoners were unsuccessful, so all adrenaline aside, life goes on unaffected.

Today I've Learned:

So today's post might be the start of a series of postings. Periodically ... perhaps even daily I have decided to just make note of one thing that I've learned that day. These things might be Kenya specific, or they might just be little bits of uber obvious information that one should pay more attention to. In this case that one is probably me.

So recently I have learned:

• July 9th South Sudan will officially be independent. (Let's pray that this can return to a peaceful celebration and not dissolve into the conflict that appears to be forming in Abyei).
• That if a male hospital employee shows up to work in a dress he is likely to be referred to the psychiatric ward.
• That a "Nimbus" is both a cloud that is about to fall as rain, and a drunk person who will soon fall over.
• That being sore from a work-out is a bigger problem in places where people don't work out as compared to places like fitness crazed Boston.

Thanks for reading :)
Rachel

The kid in me would like to go for a bike ride ...

... and the adult in me, would like for Cancer to be less painful socially as well as a less physically devestating diagnosis.

I recently remembered that I signed up for a charity ride called the Dempsey Challenge.  I will be riding 50 miles on my bike as well as raising funds.  This time it is to support The Patrick Dempsey Center for Cancer Hope and Healing in Lewiston, Maine.  This place provides free support, education and wellness services to cancer patients and caregivers.  I particularly appreciate the fact that caregivers were included in their programming, as Cancer does not only affect the individual who receives the diagnosis but also their family, and the whole community that supports them throughout the rest of their treatment and in some cases for the remainder of their lives. 

I have been directly impacted by Cancer twice in my life.  One was a member of my immediate family, who thankfully recovered quite quickly, and has been cancer free for 11 years now.  The other was Raylene Salisbury, a dear family friend, who was more like a family member than just a friend of the family.  Raylene died when I was only 14, but between spending holidays together, every weekend, as well as hanging around while she and my mom quilted and crafted several nights a week, she was like a second mom to me.  That is why I will ride this ride in her honor.  I also would like to thank her niece Shelly and her sister Charlotte for their support of my ride.

I will, I think, need to update my fundraising goal, because I'm not in the United States and therefore am unlikely to be able to hold any large fundraisers ... however, if you're able to contribute in any way, I'll greatly appreciate it.  Maybe I'll even figure out how to change the picture on the website, as it is no longer snowy.  The website is:  http://dempseychallenge2011.kintera.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=435102&supid=322712651 I should also note that I've raised $5 more than my total indicates, and owe Celeste a great big thank you!

The website is also listed under my profile on the left hand side of this page as "my latest charity ride" or something like that.

So, now that I'm focused and preparing for the ride, I find myself in Kenya .... no problem!  I've overcome bigger obstacles I'm sure.  So I've increased my daily yoga, and added some lunges to strengthen more ... biking related muscles.  If anyone has any ideas for other ways I can prepare myself from the comfort of my room, I welcome your input.  A real difficulty is that I need to get strong, but I don't want to appear sore in public.  Sore muscles seem to confuse and worry people here.  You should have seen how worried people became when a physical therapist came limping into the office where I work the other day.  Turns out he was just sitting funny and his leg fell asleep (wuss), but people were VERY concerned for him, so I'm sure if the strange white girl from America came into work hobbling because of Yoga that would be a bit of an awkward conversation ... repeated MANY times throughout the day.  Anywho, wish me luck.

- A special thanks to Beth Dimond for making me aware of this ride. See you there October 8th &9th!

Mosquitoes and Malaria

Malaria is a very real threat and has a high prevalence in Kenya, and to my experience also in Voi.  No worries, I haven’t personally had Malaria, but listening to people here, it’s like a really big flu that just never leaves their community.  Imagine H1N1 for the next 30 years.  Everyone knows it’s serious, and they are mindful of it to a point, but they also live with the constant threat of it, which makes people a little less paranoid.  Malaria is an unfortunate fact of life.

As far as I'm concerned, I’m on malaria prophylaxis, and living in a place where medications and skilled professionals who know how to handle the disease are abundant, so I don’t worry about it that much.  That, however, does not mean that I don’t worry about mosquitoes.  Upon arrival I noted how very small these mosquitoes are.  They don’t tend to buzz around my ears and all in all they don’t really annoy me all that much.  They are quite tame compared to the mosquitoes I grew up with and have encountered in my travels.  I was even pleased when I finally got my first, second, and third mosquito bites that the bites don’t really itch all that much.  I was aware of them, but only enough to feel the need to rub my skin once or twice and then it felt better and I could ignore it again ……… unfortunately, that wore off.  I let my guard down, I wore a skirt to dinner, forgot the 100% DEET, and didn’t ask for a mosquito coil (dinner is under cover but open air, and mosquito coils do the job of citronella candles, but work more like incense).  For the gold star on this perfect night, the manager also came the next morning to apologize because he had been otherwise occupied and hadn’t sprayed my room with insecticide before I went to bed.  I told him it wasn’t a big deal, we’d do better the next time, and thanked him for letting me know.  That was before the 12 hour mark.  The bites that I had received the night before were relatively calm … between about 12-36 hours after the bites occur the itching is the worst, and they start to get inflamed.  Here is the result:

That plus an itch that made me want to literally remove my skin.  I would stress here, that quite often when people say things starting in “I would literally ….” They use it to exaggerate, and they really wouldn’t literally even want to do whatever they were saying.  No, no, if I thought removing the tops of skin off of each and every one of these bites would have helped I probably would have done it at least until the pain of those that I had completed, dulled the itch for the remaining bites.  I even sent out a text asking “Know of any remedies for mosquito bites?  …… Other than removing my legs?”  It really was that bad.  The response I received suggested salt, lemon, banana peel, vinegar, asprin, and toothpaste.  Toothpaste being the only thing I had in the room, it was the first try.  God that stuff is amazing.  So now whenever I have bites I am blue with Colgate.  Luckily I’m better at prevention now and although the reaction seems to be getting bigger, I only ever have a few at a time. 

               So when I see a whole busload of amercian tourists pile into the hotel and leave their tents & doors open, or are sitting out on their patios reading wearing shorts and either short sleeve shirts or tiny tank tops, I can’t help but cringe.  They’ll learn sooner or later.  Dinner time, which happens to be dusk or later = long pants, socks, sneakers, long sleeves and DEET, DEET, DEET.  So much for my avoidance of chemicals.  The benefits outweigh this particular risk. 

Commenting Issues

Hello All,

I thought that it was just me and my limited bandwidth preventing me from commenting in response to your comments ... however, I've heard from others that you're having issues signing in so that you can comment or comment annonymously.  I'm not actually sure how the anonymous thing works, but apparently this whole login/comment issue is a Blogger wide issue: 

I go to a blogger blog and comment, and instead of my username being there I have to pick "google account", which then takes me to the login screen, where I login (selecting remember me), and I get taken to the comment form again, and show up as anonymous, instead of as my user name. Then I type the word verification, and click post, and it takes me to the login screen again. Then after I login again it takes me to the comment, and I have to start all over again.

Sound familiar?  If so, here's the fix that I found: 

1. If a blog's comment form takes you to the log in page, UNCHECK THE BOX THAT SAYS "REMEMBER ME" and log in. It will take you back to complete your comment.

 

It worked for me when I posted a comment I've been trying to post for a while.  Hopefully that works for now, but the makers of this technology are apparently working on a better fix.  In any event I look forward to your comments, or failing that your emails.  Heck, if you want to email your comments, and I have internet to do so, I can post it if you really want. 

 

Best of Luck!

Rachel

Simba! Simba Sita!!!!

I contemplated just posting that.  The picture with a caption “Six Lions!”, but Saturday deserves more than that.  A group from the research center that I’m sort of informally attached to (my professor runs it, but for this project I’m just a visitor and work more closely with the hospital); we went to Tsavo West National Park on Saturday and despite the density of wildlife being fairly low we saw quite a range of animals.   The goal of the trip was actually to see a lion and a rhino, but I’ll take 6 lions, and save rhinos, crocodiles, and wildebeest for another day. 

These lions seem to be particularly important because they are famous.  These are the Maneating Lions of Tsavo.  Well, not these lions specifically, but there is a possibility that these lions are related to the ones that were man eaters.  The story goes that in the 1800s when the british were building the railroad from Mombasa on the coast to the fertile pastures of the northeast where most of the Europeans settled, they “had to” build their railroad right through Lion country.  I put “had to” in quotations because I am a little skeptical of how necessary it was, although I will give them the benefit of the doubt and try to remember that Lions were not inhabitants of a park at that point, but wandering wherever the heck they liked, so avoiding Lions would not be so easy as it is today.  Anyway, as they were building this railroad, they got to Voi, and one night there was a Lion attack.  A person was killed and carried off by the Lions.  The railroad workers put up their guard and stood watch, but after a while nothing happened and they stopped keeping watch. …. aaaand another person would be carried off in the middle of the night.  Somewhere along the way I got confused, but apparently whichever side they say the Lions are from is actually where the railroad workers’ camp was, and the Lions were from the opposite side.  Tsavo park has been divided by both the railroad and a major road, so those Lions are now either Tsavo East or Tsavo West Lions.  Anywho, apparently these attacks carried on for a few years before someone finally decided to put in a concerted effort, protect themselves and take down the Lions.

Moral of the story:  The Maneaters of Tsavo were actually two very specific rogue Lions who had been kicked out of their pride.  They were killing and eating people not because it is in their nature, or human is a preferred prey but because rogue lions, who are male, have little hunting experience, and much of their prey are large and fight back, so they are too dangerous for a single Lion to attempt to take down, whether the prey is young, sick, alone, or not.  So these two rogue Lions were finding the easiest meals they could, fighting to survive.  It’s true, I feel a little bad for the Lions who were demonized, and the fact that they gave the rest of the Tsavo Lions a bad rap.  Point is – this is not typical Lion behavior …. But this is!!!:

It should be mentioned that there are other animals in the park as well.  Dic dics are among my favorites.  They’re cute little miniature deer, with very different lifestyles.  So start by picturing miniature deer, then go one size smaller.  That’s the size of a deer-like creature that exist here, but it’s still not small enough, go one size smaller to the size of a large beagle … THAT’s the size of a dic dic.

Supposedly they are called dic dics because they always travel in pairs.  If you see one, there’s always a second one around.  That was true when I went to Tsavo East, but as the guide explained Saturday, dic dics are also extremely loyal.  The two dic dics are not only travel buddies, but mates (in biological, not British English for friends).  If one mate dies, the other will never take another mate.  This of course was followed up by a long string of jokes about dic dics sacrificing themselves to the lions because they’re so distraught over the loss of the first of the pair, that life just isn’t worth living.  I don’t remember seeing any lone dic dics, but we did find more than one triplet, one of the three being offspring … which makes me wonder, how are they paired off?  Is this an arranged set-up, or is the young one simply kicked out to track down their life partner?  While they aren’t ever alone, you also rarely see pairs running next to or with other pairs.  Hmmmm. 

Aside from this there were hippos, elephants, giraffe, a pregnant giraffe – which was apparently ready to give birth at any second … we waited but apparently it needed more time, so we moved on, hornbills (think Zazu from the Lion King, only black and white … Zazu’s blue right?), ostrich, cox hart beasts, baboons, monkeys, lions… LIONS!, a puff adder, river rats, zebra, water buffalo, water bucks, impala, Kudu, a leopard – okay, I only saw the back half of the same leopard twice but since leopards are super rare to spot at all I’m counting it, rainbow fish, squirrels, warthogs, and perhaps some other animals that I’m forgetting, and a goat. 

               The goat was extra special … not because it was a particularly different goat from your average run of the mill goat, but because we slaughtered it and grilled it for dinner.  Barbequing seems to be a constant staple in most cultures for which I am very pleased.  After a long day of driving through the park and checking out almost every living creature in our path, we sat down to a great meal, shared with some of the local rangers (they cooked for us while we were driving around.  They’re so sweet!), and our guide, who used to work for Kenyan Wildlife Service as well.  I’m grateful to the group for including me, to my professor for organizing, suggesting, and subsidizing, and to the goat … someone should thank the goat.

On another note, this trip has made me sort of marvel at the fact that I have never really considered working with animals as a career.  I stumbled upon being a part time veterinary assistant and boarding tech for a summer, but have never thought that animals would be a part of my long term professional life.  Strange, cause I love the crazy things.  Anywho, hope you enjoy the pictures if I can get them to load :)

Love from Africa:  Rachel.

I don't.

Today I found out I was engaged.  Well, maybe not so much actually engaged, just that I was apparently telling everyone I am engaged.  For a while now people have been asking me about my boyfriend, and asking when I am going to get married.  I thought they were just generally curious about my life and my family, and they assumed I am old, so isn’t it about time?  Today someone finally asked me, “what does your ring mean?” 

               Apparently, at least here in Voi, you don’t wear a ring just because it’s pretty.  It signifies something.  If you wear a ring, any ring, on your ring finger, regardless of which hand, it means you’re married.  Easy enough.  If you wear a ring on your middle finger it is usually your future wedding band, and it signifies an engagement (not sure how that works.  One ring would not fit both of my fingers).  Not every day, but most days I’ve been wearing a ring on my middle finger … just because I like it.  I guess I’ve been sending very mixed signals.  One day I’m engaged, the next I’m not. 

               The funny thing is, when I first started traveling/living outside of the US I purchased a ring that looked suspiciously like an engagement ring for when I was traveling.  Creapy guys tended to leave me alone, and oddly I did better bargaining as a young bride than as a single girl.  Here however I get no fewer guys lurking around the office, and twice the “when are you going to get married”.  No benefit.

               Isaac love, sorry, the engagement’s off.  The ring goes until I’m back in international airspace.

Alas poor Yorick

Alas poor Yoric 

Not to be morbid or anything, but death seems to be one of my favorite subjects.  Not that I am sort of goth who feigns love of the deep, dark abyss of nothingness … much to my father’s relief.  He was a little nervous in my youth that the black shapeless T-shirts and flannel shirts of punk/grunge would turn into black lipstick, black fingernail polish, and a cult-like following.  No, this is more of a fascination with the body and the miraculous life that it once contained.  Not only does out treatment of death say a lot about us as individuals, but it screams volumes of what it means to belong to one society or another.  Our treatment of death shows not only our value of death but that of life, as well as the current state of life in which we as societies find ourselves.  I use the plural here, because as much as I would like to think that we are a global society, and we are indeed interdependent with common values shared throughout human existence, in this case the state of the society in which an individual finds itself is greatly different from one place to another.  In some societies life is ever precious, but also fleeting and the presence of death neither surprises nor excessively offends.  In others life is thrown away carelessly or even waited out, and yet death rather than being a welcome relief is a cruelty upon this earth.  I don’t mean to negate the loss of an individual family member.  The loss of a child is in any case I can think of, a personal tragedy to the parent during the moment and remains a sadder point in life.  However, in places where children are regularly lost, the sting may be felt, but the lingering, earth crushing inconsolability is much more rare. 

               Growing up in the States, death was talked about but in hushed tones.  You could ask about someone’s demise, but it’s best to ask an acquaintance briefly rather than a friend, co-worker, or heaven forbid a family member directly and at length.  The loss of a loved one is almost a personal affront to the person who has remained behind.  It makes people uncomfortable to discuss it, and the subject is quickly changed. 

               In other places I have lived there are so many supernatural beliefs that come with death, that you do not use death’s true name.  It is improper to say “died” when referring to a human being, so other euphemisms are invented.  It is extremely upsetting to, in any way, indicate the direction of a graveyard with more than a passing glance in its direction.  However, with all of this, death is so common and unexplained that “sometimes people just die”, it is acceptable to have no clue to the cause of a death.  1^st Birthdays are the most important birthday of a person’s life because it is still assumed that until that point, it cannot be relied upon that the child will even have birthdays.

               Not to say that I entirely understand the perspective on death here … that may take more time than I currently have in Kenya to understand, but here the attitude seems to be one of matter-of-fact-ness.  It is acceptable to talk about death, whether in the past or future tense.  Even when discussing the suicide of a co-worker or friend, you might see a sadness behind the conversation, but it is not a topic that is avoided or cut short. 

               On top of the conversations that I have already had on the subject – which seem to be numerous considering my short stay so far – and a brief visit to the mortuary, the actual trigger for this blog was a chicken.  A dead chicken on the side of the road.  The first time I passed it, I wondered quickly what had killed it.  It was completely intact, and if I thought chickens slept on their sides with their legs stretched out, I might have thought it wasn’t  dead at all – but they do not, and it was.  On my return trip home that evening it was still there, exactly as I had left it.  It struck me as odd that nothing had come to claim it, but it is a busy road so perhaps whatever might have been interested was scared off.  The next morning, however, the chicken was still there only this time it appeared that another chicken had been devoured right next to the carcass of the still untouched 1^st chicken carcass.  Not a single feather was moved on the first chicken, and there weren’t even real signs of decomposition – which is a little strange now that I think of it.  Yet there was a pile of feathers, which had been violently plucked from another chicken, lying right next to it.  Disease or poison are my conjectures.  Disease because other animals would avoid a carcass that they sensed to be sick, and poison because not even the wasps or …. ANTS had started their work on it.  Oddly though, neither had people.  Plenty of local residents had passed by, and there it lay, perhaps it even still does.

               I apologize for the abrupt end of this posting, but I don’t know that these musings are or in the near future will be done.  Thanks for joining me on their meandering path, and I look forward to any and all thoughts on the subject.

The Ants go marching one by one .....

This edition of the blogovel is perhaps a bit overdue, but: Welcome to Africa.  I’ve heard that phrase used before, usually to point out an instance when Murphy’s Law had somehow taken affect and caused a bit of frustration for a foreigner somewhere on the continent.  In Turkmenistan, we had a similar phrase for everything going wrong and taking four times as long as we expect for something to be accomplished “I’ve been Tstan-ed”.  I even expected that I would use the African phrase more than once while I was here, but after arrival was quite surprised at just how developed this place is.  I don’t know whether that’s Kenya, or Taita-Taveta County, or maybe even the town of Voi specifically, but life feels pretty normal here with very few adaptations required for outside visitors.  So imagine my surprise yesterday when I finally heard someone say a dejected “Welcome to Africa”, and it was a Kenyan woman cursing to herself!  My guess is that the wind had blown and ever so slightly rattled the roof, but the result was that leaves and debris which were lodged in the rafters let loose and sprinkled all over the table, and her papers.  I don’t even think they hit her at all … but it was apparently frustrating enough for her that it warranted a damning of the entire continent.   So the buildings here might not be quite as airtight as they are in the States, but that suits me just fine.  If that’s the worst that happens, I might even be a little bored :)

In other news, I was thrilled to find that there are a sufficient number of mosques in the town to hear the call to prayer throughout the day, at home or at work.  To someone who hasn’t lived near a mosque, this might not seem like a terribly exciting thing, but with a local … is it the Imam that sings the call to prayer or one of his assistants?  Someone who knows should comment and set this straight.  Anywho, someone, sings the call to prayer over a loud speaker for all in the vicinity to hear, much in the way that churches ring bells in the steeple.  I find the call to prayer not only comforting, a great way to tell the time, and in some cases the day of the week (Fridays are particularly busy prayer days!), but also far more personal than a set of bells at the top of a building.  The call takes on the persona of the singer behind the microphone.  Not every one is of recorded Gregorian chanter status, but that almost makes it better.  You can hear the confidence, or nerves in the individual, humanizing his message.  The call outside of the hospital is particularly monotone, and tends to drone, but that just makes the stray inflection that he does use sound that much more emphatic.  It’s also a nice contrast to the sounds of shrill shrieking that come from the local churches each evening.  As one man joked, “demons are very painful to excise.”  There is a part of me that would like to witness one of these services to see if it is the spectacle that I imagine, but then there is the rest of me that wants NOTHING to do with them.  Hours upon hours of chanting, singing and screaming.  This is the sort of revival that American Baptists dream of, and might try to enact once or twice a year, but here it seems to happen in multiple locations on a nightly basis.  Oh to have such conviction … and what an interesting evaluation of psychosomatic phenomena. 

And finally, Ants, Bees and other creepy crawlies.  Not only are there rhinos, elephants, and very tall giraffes, but the insects also seem to be of a much larger variety.  If you’ve ever seen a carpenter bee, you know that fuzzy bees in the united states can be very large as well, however, the bigger they are, the less threatening.  It might be partly to do with the fact they are unknown, but I have seen some pretty formidable bees here.  They are twice the size of carpenter bees, still fuzzy, but also seem to show signs of intelligence.  Again, perhaps I am assigning them more credit than is due, but these things even from a distance are not oblivious to humans.  One seemed to be checking me out from behind a pillar the other day.  As I moved, it changed its angle so as to be able to see me, but gain protection from the obstacle as well.  If there’s one thing I don’t want, it’s a large bee, that is smart, but also has the potential to be aggressive.  This was in contrast to the 3-4 inch wasp that was buzzing just inches from my face yesterday.  That thing seemed to show no intelligence at all and just dopily fly about the room.  And then there are the ants. 

Most are quite small and some are even harmless.  They act very much like ants everywhere else I’ve lived (excluding ants-on-stilts who remain my favorite!), however this is not true for all of the ants here.  Here they have Army Ants.  I thought I would be afraid of snakes.  There are green and black mombas, puff vipers, and cobras here, but they are not in town, most are not this high in elevation, they are not likely to come after me, and certainly not without warning.  Most will try to avoid people, otherwise there will not be established roads and paths in their territories.  The point is, these are impractical to worry about and I know it.  Army Ants on the other hand I’ve already seen here.  They don’t seem very imposing to look at them.  They form lines and make a path to get food, and protect that food.  If you are walking down the road and do not see them, but happen to step on a line of these ants, they climb up your leg, looking for a warm spot to attack.  The only way you will be able to get them off of you is apparently by getting naked first.  This is not something I am interested in doing.  I’m already the weird girl who walks to work when there are plenty of taxis available.  I don’t need to be the crazy screaming naked girl who walks home crying.  I do remember growing up that my step-father warned me of red ant hills for the same reason, but I came to see that as a wives tale, as it had never happened.   Two key differences here are that these ants will apparently come after you if they feel the vibration of your steps, and that they don’t stick to their hills, so you are vulnerable anywhere – I saw them crossing a relatively well traveled walking road and almost stepped on them twice. 

If it weren’t for my professor grabbing my arm and stopping me the second time, this is a fate to which I would have already succumb. 

So that’s it for the day.  More to come on Mosquitoes and Malaria – thank god for friends and toothpaste.  No worries Mom, I haven’t contracted it just yet!

(pictures won't load at my current connection, so check back later for pics of a swarm of Army ants and what they look like from a few feet away ... ie. just before you step on them, when you should be paying more attention)

Hight Sensitivity with Low Specificity

Hello All,

I'm running a little low on internet, so I can't leave you with a nice long post today.  Hopefully soon.  However, I did want to update something and let you know I'm alive and well.  In fact, I've been riding around the national park lately and while I'm REALLY good at spotting things .... I'm not always so good at spotting animals.  About half of the animals I think I find turn out to be downed trees, rotting logs or one of the numerous termite hills (those things are HUGE!!!!).  Anywho, enjoy a sight from my last trip:

Prolific Posting

Sooooo, I may have mentioned a time or two that blogging is not really my forte.  It appears that the email feature I mentioned before is not quite as user friendly as I would have liked it to be.  On the bright side it does seem to actually be working.  You may notice - assuming this is a feature you are even interested in - that after you type your address into the little white box and place your cursor dutifully over the "submit" button not much happens.  It doesn't look like a link but I promise if you click and the computer gods are happy with one or both of us it will work.  Alternatively if you do not trust strange little links that do not look like links, you can type your email address into the little white box, hit tab, then enter and it should likewise submit. 

Alternatively ..... you could always just write my name in random places on your calendar and perhaps that will serve as a reminder to check in from time to time.  I wish I could make it easier for the non-tech-savvy among us, but not being savvy enough myself that is a bigger task that I'm ready to take on.  Kenya I can handle, Blogger?  Maybe not as smoothly.

On a completely unrelated note.  I've arrived in London!  It always seems strange to me the things that throw you, or catch your attention.  Today it was the toilets.  Not the bathrooms, waterclosets or lieus, but Toilets, as they are all marked throughout the airport.  This in and of itself might make me chuckle but probably wouldn't be worth telling anyone about.  The Ladies in London Heathrow is one of the nicest most comfortable if not perfectly aromatic bathrooms I've ever been in.  It's not terribly flashy and when you first walk in, there isn't really that much remarkable about it ... until you get to the stalls.  These are not gates as you would expect to find at a race track, these are little rooms.  The doors go ceiling to floor, they're superbly lit, and if there's one thing you don't notice while you're in there it's the hoard of people outside your door.  While this could be seen as a downfall in a busy airport there seems to be a sufficient supply so as to never have a line, which is another amazing thing in a women's bathroom, and something for which I'm supremely grateful as I'll be spending yet another 9 hours here. 

So there you have it.  The wonders of travel! and you thought when I called this blog "worlds unseen" I was just talking about Kenya! no, no, no, we can go deeper than that :)

Mom:  I've made it halfway so far.  I know I've shown a grand ability to post so far, and I hope this sets your mind at ease.  Please don't anticipate my musings to happen nearly this often.  Talk to you in a week to let you know I made it the rest of the way :)

Happy Travels to whatever bathroom the world takes you to.
Rachel

Welcome!

Hello one and all,

 

I'm currently sitting in Logan Airport waiting for my flight to London to be called.  Tonight it's on to London and connecting through to Nairobi ... about 13 hours later.  As promised, although cutting things a little close.  I wanted to let you all know where you can find updates about my travels and whatever else seems to capture my attention.  This time rather than writing mass emails I'm going to try write a blog.  This isn't really my thing, but I'm going to try pretty hard to keep it updated.  My plans are pictures of lions for Micah, for mom and dad pictures taken from a distance with a 21x optical zoom of lions :) 

 

Just a note, I've put a link on the right hand side of the blog so if you prefer to get emails of my posts rather than going to the blog itself to read it, you can sign up and hopefully that will all work just as it's supposed to.  I think you can also "follow" my blog by clicking a link right near the email link and it'll just send an email reminding you to check the website.  If you can't be bothered, that's absolutely fine as well, send me an email and when and if I have internet I'll respond as I'm able. 

Thanks for your support, join the trip and see you on the web:  http://worldsandlands.blogspot.com/

Rachel
--

... aaaaand welcome to my web log on travel. Also known as my blogovel. Those of you who know me know that my life does not really exist online. When I take huge trips I tend to make mass email lists and forward out one email about once a month and struggle with responding to everyone's emails because of a lack of internet. Well, I've decided to try a new tactic. Novel I know! This time I'm going to try to write my blogovel offline so that precious internet time can ALL be spent struggling to respond to everyone's emails.

Wish me luck!

On a side note this will hopefully be an ongoing project. Initially this will start off as my Kenyan blogovel, but as I leave Kenya and transition back to the US in August, I will likely start planning my next outing out in the world of strange and new places, and I hope you'll join me for those adventures as well. If not, no worries. I'll be happy to share my experiences, but just as happy to have a central place to go to reminisce about past travels.

Happy Reading, and I look forward to sharing with the world :)