Shirazi: Day 2

I woke up and glanced toward the ceiling, taking into account the thatched roof and mosquito net. Yep, this was real life. 

I got up and managed to communicate enough to take a shower, drink chai (absolutely delicious even in its syrupy-state), and eat a few sugary doughnuts. I dressed in a kanga, the item I mentioned earlier. It consists of two identical rectangles of fabric and is really versatile. I used them as skirts, dresses, and even towels during the duration of my stay. Many mothers in the village even use one piece to strap their babies on their backs.

Kanga=everything

I couldn’t get out of the house fast enough. I met up with the other students for an excursion. 

We boarded a large boat and soon arrived at a beautiful sandbar in the middle of the Indian Ocean: Paradise Lost. The sandbar only appears during a few hours of the afternoon when the tides are right.

Temporary island surrounded by the bluest water 

We lazed around for a few hours and discussed the challenges we had all encountered at our homestays. We returned to Shirazi re-energized by the incredible beach and prepared to return to reality.

With Odoch, one of the directors

Lunch at home was a silent affair over chicken, ugali, and stew. The chicken here is nothing like what we have at home—it’s tiny! I could barely get a bite, but my sisters knew how to pick a chicken bone clean. They tossed the white fragments on the floor for the cat, Jenny.

I forgot to mention in my first post about Shirazi: my identity crisis lives on. No one in Nairobi can pronounce Jenae, so I became Jennie. In Shirazi, Jenae wasn’t even given a chance: I was Mwakaje (mwah-kah-jay).  Mwakaje Issa, daughter of Fatma Issa. We were all assigned new names so that the villagers would know which family we were staying with. I couldn’t help but laugh when I met my feline family member. Over the course of my stay, I answered on behalf of the cat a number of times.