United African Alliance Community Center

Last Sunday after crossing the border into Tanzania and continuing on, we arrived at the city of Arusha. Our base for the week was the UAACC. The establishment is run by Pete and Charlotte O’Neal, native US citizens. Pete was a lead member of the leftist Black Panthers in Kansas City during the 1960s. He ran into legal trouble and fled the country in 1970 to avoid legal repercussions. Charlotte, 19 at the time, joined him, and the couple spent a few years in Algeria before moving to Tanzania. Charlotte is able to return to the US and does so frequently to visit family.

Malcolm X Theater: Just one of the buildings named after leading activists

In Arusha, the couple operate this community center which hosts groups like ours. And wow, they knew how to host us! We had an amazing time packed full of opportunities and tastes of home (think taco night).

Stage for periodic performances

The O’Neals have taken in 23 orphans from the Arusha area, and they house them on the grounds of the UAACC. They provide education, art classes, and athletic opportunities to them free of charge.

Children's facilities, garden, and basketball court

Our first night at the UAACC, we watched a documentary on the O’Neals, entitles “A Panther in Africa.” It was really interesting to see it and then ask Pete about key events. He says now that he realizes he was radical in his early years; he expressed happiness that he has become a better person. He still supports the overarching mission of the Black Panthers, which he says was much more about community service than about violence.

The walls and buildings of the center are covered in artwork

Remember me?

I’m back from Tanzania! We pulled into Nairobi a few hours ago after a long bus ride from Arusha, TZ. I’ve spent the past few hours video chatting with my family and starting on the huge amount of work I’ve let pile up. I have just 2 days to pull everything together for my ISP—I bought my ticket for the overnight bus to Mombasa this afternoon, so I’m leaving Tuesday night for sure. Better buckle down.

While in Tanzania, our group received word of two grenade attacks in Nairobi, one at a nightclub and the other at a crowded bus stop. We were glad to be in the relatively peaceful country of Tanzania at this point and pretty unsettled to hear the news. We are now back in Nairobi, but SIT has plans in place to move us if necessary. Since arriving back in Nairobi, I haven’t felt unsafe but, as advised, will be sure to avoid places where foreigners congregate…farewell for now, Art Caffe.

Now back to my trip to Tanzania! I’ll elaborate more on the details in future posts, but for now, here’s a peek into the amazing week.

Greeting line at the Maasai village

Sunrise over Mt. Meru

Hadzabe village archery lesson

King of the Jungle

Driving away from Mt. Kilimanjaro

Moving right along

I’ve been back in Nairobi for three weeks now; I’m ready for another change of scenery. And soon I will get just that! Tomorrow morning we leave for a visit to Tanzania. I’m beyond excited.

Our weeklong visit will include a visit to the United Nations site, and we’ll stay at the United African Alliance Community Center. The center is run by American refugees Pete and Charlotte O’Neal (Pete was a leader of the Black Panther Party and fled the US in 1970). We’ll continue on to stay in a Maasai village for a few days. There, we’ll witness a goat sacrifice (and possibly drink blood? Agh!) and we’ll learn about traditional herbal medicine, the herding lifestyle, native bead making, and traditional dance (I have two left feet, could be interesting). We’ll go on a short safari through the world’s largest intact caldera, Ngoro Ngoro Crater. We’ll climb to the base of Mount Kilimanjaro too!

When we return, we have just a couple days in Nairobi before we go our separate ways to complete our Independent Study Projects. I’m still finalizing the details of mine, but I’m getting out of Nairobi! After this month, our program is done. We’ll present our findings at an unknown location (rumored to be Malindi, a tourist town on the coast) and return to America in December. I can’t believe how quickly the program has gone. I know I still have almost two months here, but time is going to fly by.

See you in a week! I’ll anticipate I’ll have some interesting stories

A Break from Bargaining

Yesterday morning I went with a few friends to visit a component of Kenya’s informal sector: the Kuriako market. At this market, Kenyan men and women make and sell handmade goods. Baskets, jewelry, sandals, carvings…everything. Prices are not set, and showing up with white skin is a recipe for a rip-off.

I was nervous going in because I had heard about the aggressive men who surround the place and try to act as brokers for the foreigners who dare to set foot in the market. Sure enough, as soon as we stepped out of our cab, we were bombarded.

“America, from America?”

“Mzungu, where you from?”

“From Obama, yeah?”

"You are a student, no? Me, too. You can trust me."

“You come with me; I show you; I give you good price.”

These situations always cause an internal struggle for me. It pains me to blatantly ignore people’s questions or to refuse to shake their extended hands. But, seriously, these guys were overwhelming. I gave them clipped answers and attempted to out-walk them. I had heard that the best strategy at this market was to deal directly with the makers of the product. So that’s what I decided to do.

And I loved it! I talked to the women in Swahili and asked them about their products. A few were almost motherly, telling me to avoid the brokers swarming around. One said, “you come straight to the mamas; we’ll give you the best prices. Those men are bad.”

At one stand, I brushed off a bothersome broker and the young shopowner, Rose, invited me into her space. She pulled down hand-woven baskets and purses and explained to me their differences. I got up the nerve to ask her the prices, preparing to be astounded. And I was, but not because they were expensive! They were unbelievably fair. “Wewe ni rafiki yangu,” she said laughingly. (You’re my friend.)

I stayed for a while and, with her input, selected my favorites. After paying my bill, I realized it had begun to rain. Rose pulled a bench from under her table and invited me to sit and wait out the downpour.

So I did. We had a great conversation in Kiswahili about her business and life and about my time in Kenya. The rain eventually stopped and soon my friends showed up, ready to go. The visit was a refreshing departure from the rip-off world I have grown accustomed to. I feel like I’ve only talked about the negative aspects of Kenyan culture, but nice, honest people like Rose exist here too!

Woah, halfway there

Hard to believe it, but today marks the halfway point of my study abroad program in Kenya. Looking back across October and September, the time has flown by. Seems like just yesterday I was smooching a giraffe and marveling at the fact that I was in Africa.

They (they being the authorities on study abroad?) say that adjusting to a new culture involves an initial period of excitement: the honeymoon stage. I think that’s where I was during the giraffe visit and on my initial tours of the city.

The next stage of adjustment is where culture shock strikes with full force. It brings a lot of frustration and confusion. I certainly didn’t skip this stage. After the initial couple weeks where Nairobi was new and exciting, Nairobi became...well, dirty and dangerous. I walked to school with a scowl on my face, resenting the calls of “mzungu”, wrinkling my nose at the trash littering the sidewalks, and sullenly swallowing mounds of rice. I dreaded the long-winded, seemingly pointless lectures that native Kenyans were keen to deliver.

Thankfully, this stage was not permanent. I eventually moved on to what is considered the understanding stage. I began to understand the fact that I was a visitor in another culture. I'm in a culture where it’s perfectly normal to single someone out for his or her skin color, and it’s a culture facing problems a lot bigger than dirty streets. Kenyan culture includes a lot of white rice, and Kenyan people don’t always deliver short, to-the-point messages.

They say that the final stage of adjustment is acclimation. I think I’m currently in this stage; while I still get frustrated, I have learned to laugh at many situations that would have angered me earlier.

To illustrate, I'll share an experience I had this past Saturday. I visited the local Maasai market, where vendors sell African bags, scarves, carvings, jewelry…everything African you can imagine, really. And at Maasai Marker, white skin=high prices. No worries though; I had fun haggling with the aggressive venders in broken Kiswahili, and I managed to snag some goods for decent prices.

Anyway, on to the part that would have horrified me earlier in my stages of cultural adjustment. I was carrying a backpack with me and had stuffed a banana in the sidepocket for later. As I tried to convince a persuasive salesman that no, in fact, I did not want to buy a tribal mask for 5000 shillings, he noticed the bruised banana in my backpack. “Ndizi?” he said (banana in Kiswahili). 

Eyeing the sad banana that I knew I would throw away, I perked up at the chance of a trade. I took it from my bag; he grabbed it from me. I held my hand out for the mask; he handed me…a keychain. And asked for 100 shillings to supplement the banana. I couldn’t help but laugh at the entire interaction. In the end, I declined the keychain and walked away with my 100 shillings…but I left behind my banana and a little of my pride. Ah, the culture of Kenya. 

Thinking of home

Happy birthday Dad! (Real dad, not Nairobi dad.) I know there are games tonight and that you’ll work all day, but I hope it’s a great day nonetheless. I owe you one of these...

...and a bunch of African souvenirs in December; feel free to put in requests. Bowls, masks, maybe a spear? I’ve also seen some interesting sandals made from recycled tires. Or maybe you just want the cake. Think about it. I miss you tons and can’t wait to see you!

The past few days in Nairobi have been pretty low-key. I’m working on a few assignments because, believe it or not, the classroom portion of the semester is as good as done. I took my Swahili final last Monday (hopefully it went well!) and have been working on a draft proposal for my research project ever since. This weekend we’ll travel to Tanzania for a short tour, and when we return, we’ll all go our separate ways for our independent projects.

Today will be spent sitting at a coffee shop in a nearby shopping center typing away. The cakes look delicious, maybe today's a good day to splurge on the chocolate lava cake in honor of dear old Dad.

At my favorite coffee shop, Art Caffe, after taking my Swahili final

Take a look at this short article the Times published on Kibera School for Girls. It's the organization started by SIT alum Jessica Posner that I had the privilege of visiting in September. It's really an incredible story:

"Just Look at What You Did" by Nicholas Kristof

Mt. Longonot

This past Saturday was incredible. A group of 11 of us planned a trip to Mount Longonot, an inactive volcano located 90 km from Nairobi, near the shores of Lake Naivasha. We hired the Jazz Quartet (the bus our program uses for our trips) and left Nairobi at 6:30 AM to get an early start on conquering the mountain.It was a beautiful drive; I loved getting out of the city scenery and smog. We arrived at the Mount Longonot National Park at around 8:00, bought our entry passes, and began!

We had anticipated a leisurely walk (the guidebooks always make things seem more strenuous than they are; I think mountains always turn out to be hills). But we soon realized the hike would be more challenging. 

The paths were sandy and steep at some points; the views were amazing for the entire way up. We even spotted a pack of giraffes grazing below us.

We reached the top of the volcano in just under an hour, and the last bit was tough..but this view greeted us when we made it up:

Looking into the crater

We then began the walk around the circumference of the crater, up and down the many peaks and valleys. I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.

Nearing the highest peak

We actually climbed. And saw these crazy people who ran around the crater, some of them barefoot. This is why Kenyans dominate the running world.

It took a couple hours to span the crater. After a PB'n'J lunch, we started the journey to the bottom. Inspired by the barefoot runners around us, a couple of us followed suit and jogged when we could, making the trip down soo much shorter than the hike up.

We ended the climb exhausted and filthy (we had basically rolled in white sand and volcanic rock), but we were grinning from ear to ear. Days like this one make me stop and marvel at the fact that I’m living in Africa and am able to experience these incredible places.

Mount Longonot and Lake Naivasha are located at the start of the Great Rift Valley and on the way back to Nairobi we were able to stop at a lookout point to take it all in. That night after dinner, I passed out at 9 o’clock and slept a solid 10 hours. Such a great Saturday!

The Great Rift Valley

Nairobi, we meet again

Returning to Nairobi was bittersweet. I was excited to move on to the next portions of the program, but I reeeally loved Shirazi and Mombasa. Nairobi is full of hustle and bustle, and I don’t have much independence here. Oh well, I’ve re-adjusted quickly. Access to coffee and American food has helped with my re-adjustment (no offense, Mombasa and Shirazi, I really do love you).

The day after returning from Mombasa was a Sunday, and group of us decided to go to the grounds of a local fitness center to attend a concert. 

It was a classical fusion concert; there were tons of artists, orchestras, and bands that played all sorts of pieces. Two bands in particular stole the show; they are well known throughout Kenya. Ladysmith Black Mombazo was the more traditional of the two. 

It was started in the 60s and has endured through generations. So much fun to watch. The second main act was Sauti Sol, a more modern band that was similar to a pop band. This song was a favorite:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Euk_EFRhzts

The grounds of the club were really nice and the weather was on our side. Large tents gave us shade during our picnic lunch and throughout the afternoon, and we moved closer to the stage for the main acts. 

Unfortunately I had to leave before the finale so I could walk home before dark (Nairobi after dark = no walking mzungu).

After I left, I had to power walk to Nakumatt (the main supermarket) to buy a new adaptor because mine had blown up the night before. I found one for 300 shillings (about $3.00) and it’s been much better than the $40 Brookstone exploding adaptor I bought in the airport. Nice thing to know for future travels!

I love Mombasa

Our week in Mombasa was a mix of lectures, site visits, and shopping. It was a nice way to ease back into reality after our time in Shirazi.

Mombasa is a great city; I really prefer it to Nairobi. We stayed in Old Town, and it really seems a lot safer than Nairobi. We felt comfortably walking around, even after dark. The transportation is also preferable to Nairobi. Instead of relying on uncomfortable matatus, we were able to use took-tooks. They were so much fun and inexpensive! The drivers tried to rip us off but were conversational and pleasant for the most part.

Our meals in Mombasa were also incredible. We ate at an Indian restaurant for lunch one day and were blown away by the spices. I mistook some peppers for green beans and realized my mistake at the first nibble. I enjoyed the rest of lunch despite the fact that I looked like I was crying through the rest of it. Live and learn. 

We were also treated to a couple of traditional Swahili feasts at the home of our Academic Director and also at the home of his uncle. The dishes at these meals were exotic and sweet. Coconut covered sweet potatoes, fragrant chicken, flavorful samosas, and syrupy doughnuts were the crowd favorites, and I hope to get back to Mombasa to test more of the great food before I leave Kenya. Haley and Mom, are you up for it?

At the end of our week in Mombasa, we boarded the Coast Bus once again and drove through the night back to Nairobi. And now here I am, sitting at the SIT office. Since our return, we've been pretty busy with assignments, lectures, and independent project preparations. I've managed to have a little bit of fun though; I'll get back to the present with a Nairobi post soon!

Mombasa Vacation Highlights

Our afternoons in Mombasa were mostly free, and we loved having the opportunity to explore. We visited Fort Jesus, a historical site near the SIT office.

We were given a guided tour, which was cool, but our favorite part of the tour was the view rather than the history.

Another afternoon, we visited the Akamba handicraft workshop. Local artisans craft their products on site, and they sell them all within a warehouse. Everything has a set price (a set low price).

It was a welcome change from the ruthless bargaining that takes place everywhere else in Mombasa. Many of the things sold in the local stores are identical to the products at Akamba, but the prices are inflated considerably.

I’ve already decided to come back here with a credit card and stock up on Christmas presents. I have a feeling you’ll love this place, Mom, so maybe we can tack this onto the end of the trip after our safari.

Before visiting the Akamba site, we made a trip to a center for Cerebral Palsy and a center for Disability and Rehabilitation. The visits were really inspiring and provided us with a glimpse of a couple successful resources available to the people of Kenya. When we returned to our bus, we encountered a small roadblock:

After about an hour, the bus finally started and took us to Akamba! We’ve learned to be flexible in our schedule here because we seem to always run up against complications. This complication made for some great pictures at least!

The end of the week included a jigger removal session back at the SIT office. I lucked out--no little bugs in my feet! I think the group record was 7 on one foot.

Leaving Shirazi and entering reality (well, Mombasa reality)

Monday morning was a sad day: we left Shirazi. Mama Fatma gave a really neat hat and fan that I think she wove herself. I took some last minute pictures with the family before the kids left for school.

  

Mama accompanied me to the school where the bus would meet us. The bus was an hour and a half late (it’s African time) but all of the mothers waited to see us off. My stay in Shirazi was really life changing for a number of reasons. It introduced me to a simple style of living that is sooo different from any I’ve encountered in the past.

We couldn’t believe our rural village homestay was over already! Most of us enjoyed it immensely despite our expectations to the contrary.

View of Indian Ocean from Old Town Mombasa

We arrived in Mombasa and jumped right back into schoolwork with a lecture on health at the SIT office. We checked into our accommodations; I was in a group that stayed at a hotel near the office—the Royal Palace Resort. The hotel was interesting—one wall of the room was zebra print and another was checkered with colored squares. 

The downside to the accommodations was that a mosque was located directly beside the hotel…and Muslim calls to prayer occur many times each day.

We were woken up by the sunrise call to prayer at around 5 o’clock every day. The calls were very different from church bells. A man sang (and sadly, he wasn’t a gifted singer) and the call was blared throughout the neighborhood by speakers.

We were welcomed to the Mombasa Academic Director’s home for a welcome dinner. Delicious, though I am sooo sick of white rice I might never have it again when I return to the US. 

Continuing to eat on the floor with our hands...but we got plates here!

The Issa Family

I really loved my Shirazi family. It wasn’t a conventional household, and it took me awhile to get all of the connections straight.

My mother, Fatma Issa, intimidated me so much at first. I really wasn’t sure she liked me; I couldn’t communicate at all. But I soon found out how caring and kind she is. She’s got a great sense of humor, and we had a blast joking with one another.

Removing the covering from rice grains

My brothers Ali and Salim are actually Fatma’s nephews. Ali is 24 and works in Zanzibar. He was visiting while I was. Salim is 18 and lives at his school during the week.

Allie and I. Didn't get a good picture of Salim.

Mama Fatma doesn’t have any kids of her own but takes care of her grand-nieces and nephews so that they can attend primary school in Shirazi.

Mwanasiti and Abdalluh are 16 and 14, respectively. They are brother and sister. Mwanasiti does sooo much work around the house, cooking a large part of the meals and doing laundry before completing her schoolwork by lamplight.

Dallah loves soccer and plays every day. He’s a really sweet kid. I walked with him to Barabarani a few times and he was so protective, pushing me away from ant hills and motorcycles.

Mwanasha is also 14 but is a year behind Abdullah in school. Her dad was killed in a road accident last year, so I think she’s living with Fatma permanently.

The baby of our little unconventional family is 8 year-old Fatma, named after mama Fatma. Isn’t she beautiful? She’s really quiet but loves to joke around too. When we walked around she would start singing “Row, row, row your boat” or “Oh, Susannah”.

They loved seeing pictures of themselves—even the adults. We spent many nights just snapping and looking. I'm really hoping to go back and visit at the end of the program.

Weekend Activities in Shirazi

The week in Shirazi ended all too quickly. Our last Swahili lesson was Saturday morning, and for the rest of the weekend we were given free time with our families. I watched a soccer match between the local Shirazi team and nearby Barabarani Saturday afternoon.

Sunday morning, I walked to the nearby village of Barabarani to charge my phone (Barabarani has electricity!). On my way back, I was held up by a traffic jam:

  

I wasn't sure how close I could get, but these guys were friendly.

When I broke through, I got tattoos all over my arms and legs. Just kidding, kind of.

Almost all the wazungu girls were given henna as a departure gift. This woman applied the dark liquid (hair dye and some other mystery powder). 

We allowed it to dry before rinsing it off. After my black outlines were done, I returned home for the next step: the application of orange henna mud to certain regions of the tattoos. My sister Mwanasiti applied the liquid to the bottoms of my feet and filled in the flower petals.

My sister, Mwanasiti, painting my feet

Most girls also had the orange applied to their fingertips and arms as well. I avoided it because I needed to pack and couldn’t take the time needed for the mud to dry. 

Eating my last dinner in Shirazi and waiting for my feet to dry

My henna is still visible now that I’m back in Nairobi, though I am able to make it a little lighter every day. It was a good way to test out if I would ever want to get a tattoo. I don’t think I do. 

Kijiji living

During our time in the village (kijiji) of Shirazi, our mornings were reserved for Swahili lessons, but our afternoons were variable. On Wednesday, half of us visited a clinic in the nearby village of Bodo. We hiked for almost an hour through desert-like terrain. 

It would have been an enjoyable walk but for my attire:

Trying to blend in with the locals

Not the most breathable hiking gear. Oh well; we learned to deal with these things in Shirazi. After a Q & A session with the clinic’s doctor, we were spared the walk back. We rode back by pikipiki!

Pikipiki in a muumuu?!

Kind of difficult in my dress, but super fun! The sand shifted quite a bit under the tires but overall we felt pretty safe.

On Thursday, we trekked to Funzi Island in a little boat (too little, possibly). We were given a tour of the island before we took off for Paradise Lost. We spent the rest of the afternoon at the beach.

I really enjoyed the evenings at home on both days. My Swahili improved a lot after we began lessons and I was able to communicate more and more each day. I was able to joke with my siblings and my mother. Life in Shirazi was really simple yet extremely enjoyable.

Friday afternoon was a treat: I traveled with my older brother to Msambueni, a large village just a matatu-ride away from Shirazi. We visited family there and then rode by pikipiki down to the beach. I think we trespassed by hiking through a district officer’s yard. I nearly fell down into these rocks trying to pass a barbed-wire fence and take care of the pink sequined frock I donned that day.

The people in Msambueni weren’t accustomed to seeing white girls in prom dresses walking around with young black men. I received a few derisive comments but brushed them off. After the beach we visited more family and friends before heading back to a delicious dinner at home.