Faraja' Farewell

I've been preparing for my departure all weekend, but nothing could have prepared me for my last day at Faraja. I arrived at the children's home at 5:45ish on Sunday night to sleep over at Faraja one last time. Soon as I walked in the door Kepha ran up to me with a bigger than average smile on his face. "Wewe!" he screamed as he wrapped his tiny arms around my legs. I knew instantly that this goodbye was going to suck. We took a couple group photos while it was still light out and then spent a while snapping silly pictures of the kids and sorting lentils. It was so strange to me that even on my last day here I was meeting kids that I had somehow failed to talk to in six weeks. Kids who spoke perfect English at that, go figure. For dinner Moraa made me the same meal I ever ate at Faraja, and it's still my favorite of all Kenyan meals ; eggs fried up with cabbage, tomato, and onion paired with ugali. After dinner the kids turned on some music and started dancing and singing. One of my favorite things about these kids is their voices. I can't understand a thing they're saying but I love listening to them pour their little hearts into their songs. After a while I remembere that it was Easter and I had brought a bag of my FAVORITE easter candy from home, I took it out and shared the whole bag with them and they seemed to really enjoy it. I gave Moraa the photo album I had made from the pictures taken at the monkey park, and she seemed grateful. For someone who can't afford three meals a day, photographs aren't a big concern. If you know me, you know how important I think it is to have tangible records of moments passed, and I was happy I was able to help her (and the kids) remember that day. In return she showed me bits of a magazine she had saved from years ago. It was two articles, written one year apart, about Faraja. "This is the beginning," she told me. The first article was titled "The Orphans Who Came to Stay" and told of Faraja's first months and how she came to acquire the first children of Faraja. The second article, "From the Camps with Despair," told of Moraa's hardships living in Kibera, and the challenges they faced after the 07-08 post-election violence. I felt blessed to read the clippings, I've seen Faraja, I've writen about Moraa, but being able to view it through someone else eyes was humbling as well.

At one point Moraa made the kids all come sit down in the living room and put the music video they had been listening to on the TV for me to see. She told me she wanted me to know what the song was about. They music came on and the kids all started to sing, and as they did Moraa translated bits and pieces of the song. The song was about saying no to being beaten down, refusing to give up in the face of adversary, and continuing to push forward. "This song talks about Faraja better than we could," she told me. [[At this point I was already choking back tears]] When the song ended a thoughtful calm passed through even the smallest children. We sat for a while in quiet before Moraa spoke. She did the one thing I had been hoping she wouldn't; starteda goodbye speech. She thanked me for my help, for all the money we were able to raise, she said I was in the first ever group that has decided to stay the night at Faraja and she's never seen the kids open up like they have around me (& the rest of my faraja companions). She asked the kids who wanted me to leave tomorrow and they all just started at me. Next she asked who wanted me to stick around and continue being at Faraja... all the kids raised their hands, and Mildred came to sit next to me and hold my hand. She continued to talk, and bring me even closer to tears before she opened the floor up for the kids to speak. The silence that greeted me was welcome, I didn't want to have to hear these kids say goodbye.. Until Obadia shyly raises his hand. Of course the punk spoke in swahili so I couldn't understand, but Moraa's translation instantly brought tears to my eyes again. 'Thank you for staying with us, and for taking a chance to know us,' he said, among much more. After a month of assuming the kids would never know my name, or show me their real selves this was the best thank you I could receive. Ester raised her hand and said "Thank you for the chocolate [sort of an inside joke I suppose] and please give my greetings to your mum, and pop, and your sisters and your brothers and take care of them too." "Come back soon," she said. Ester is a girl who can't be a day over 10, she's got an attitude and will tell you exactly what she thinks, also another girl I didn't get to know until this week; consider her greetings delivered. Owambo, one of the older boys, told me thank you for everything, and said to me "help your friends be our friends." I'm sure I heard "thank you" a couple dozen times, and by the end I couldn't speak. Holding back a river of tears I was able to choke out the words "karibu sana" which made the kids erupt in laughter at my still broken swahili. Even writing this I am brought to tears. These kids have shown me more than I ever thought possible. Thirty five, often bratty, always adorable, Kenyan orphans taught me more than any amount of schooling ever could. I will miss them more than I can possibly imagine, and I hope to see them again soon.

Emmanuel Kinayia

One more good bye I would like to touch on, is my goodbye to Emanuel. Who is Emanuel you might ask? He is the man who owns the cafe across the street. We have all frequented the cafe in our time in Ngong, not least of all because the man who owns it is one of the most genuinely nice people I've ever met. Ever time we step foot in the cafe we're treated like royalty. .. which to be honest is not all that uncommon in Kenya. The cool thing about Emanuel is that he treats everyone who steps in his cafe like this. I've never seen him frown, and he also has a nice word to say. The first time Ben showed us the cafe he told me "Whatever you want just tell me, I'll make it for you.. I can even make a spanish omelet!" We've eaten here plenty of times since then and I've never requested anything fancy (no need for special food when you can get the best pilau in town for 120 bob). A few days ago I went to take his picture so that I could always remember his smile face and warm welcomes, and when I did he look at me baffled. "You're leaving already?" I explained that I was, regrettably, leaving quite soon. He told me that before I go I had to come by one last time so he could cook me a spanish omelet (what was it with this guy and his omelets?!). I said I would and went about my business. I didn't think much more about it until today, I saw him in the street while I was making a juice run and he asked when I was coming by for my food. "I'll be there in one hour," I assured him and continued inside. Now, again, if you know me... I'm awfully socially awkward. Emanuel was a nice guy, but the thought of having to sit alone (or worse with him and talk) was nearly painful. An hour later I walked across the street and waited while he cooked, when my spanish omelet was all done he placed it in front of me and took a seat across from me and waited patiently for me to try it. Soon as I had my first bite I understood why he kept talking about omelets. "This is wonderful," I told him; and I meant it. He smiled, a real smile, the smile of a person has just done something they love and for Emanuel that thing is give people great food. He poured me a cup of chai and the conversation flowed naturally. He informed me that he'd hoped to take me to his home land (Maasai land) to show me his family. "Next time you're in Kenya I'll show you my home, you can sleep in a manyatta on a bed of cowhide, and we'll teach you traditional Maasai dress for women." Slightly addled but fully honoured at this invitation I agreed that I'd have to come back soon as possible. We talked lots of food, and he gave me some tips on preparing the dishes I've learned to cook while here. We shared stories on our respective countries, both always shocked and amazed how the other could act so nonchalant about what we were saying. He told me about his business and also introduced me to his wife (one of the waitresses there that I've been seeing every time I visit). She was wonderfully kind and told me I was welcome back any time I pleased. In short, it was a beautiful meal.

Thank You

I really don't have a whole lot to report since I got back from safari. This week has been kind of strange. However, I do want to say thank you. Thank you to all the people who selflessly gave money to an organization on the other side of the planet. Together we donated almost $1,500 and were able to secure the eviction problem, and pay the kids tuition. Moraa paid off the debt she owed the water man, bought feeds for the chickens, food for the kids, and even has the electricity turned on for the time being. Yesterday I went to the store with the little money that I didn't give directly to Moraa and bought new dishes and some shoes for the kids, and today Moraa and I plan on shopping for a gas cooker that will enable her to cook inside on days that it rains, or charcol is too expensive. From the money collected before I left we took the kids to the monkey park and made lunch for them providing a day they are sure to talk about for years to come. I also got some school supplies to encourage them to do their homework and study correctly. It was a wonderful sight to see the difference that can be made in these children's lives.

Thank you, sincerely, from myself, Moraa, and the kids of Faraja.

Safari!

One might think that I would have a lot to say about one of the coolest weekend of my life... and generally you'd be right. But in this case I'm short on time, and to be honest I think the pictures do a lot better job than I could. So this post will be brief.

Safari started out on Friday at 8am. That day was what Mike (our wonderful safari guide) called "introduction day." We dove 4ish hours from Nairobi to Maasai Mara, Kenya's premier game reserve. In other words 14,000 sq km of the most beautiful place I've ever seen. On the ride there we got to know each other. I was traveling with Thais, an other volunteer named Dave from York, a girl who works for the UN from Sweden, another American girl, and in Narook we picked up three other people who were volunteering with a different organization (they were from England too). The drive from Narook to the Mara was like an amusement park ride. You've got to appreciate roads that are so bad people intentionally drive on the shoulder of the road. When we finally got to our camp site we had a quick cup of chai then our vehicle was transformed into a full on safari van. The top came up, giving us room to stand and move all around the van to see the animals up close and personal. Mike assured us that our mini-drive tonight would just be a taste of what was to come.Within two hours we saw three of the big five. We drove through a heard of giraffes, we saw lions, and buffalo. We continually had to remind Mike to keep at least one eye on the road as he pointed out wild life left and right. It was awesome! After seeing the most breath taking sunset I'll ever witness we headed back to camp for dinner and passed out early.

The next day we woke up early hoping to get onto the reserve quick enough to see a kill, unfortunately that didn't happen. However, we did see a pride of lions munching on a freshly dead buffalo. We were so close to mama lion and her cubs that we could hear the bones crunching as they ate, talk about wild. We drove allllll day and saw tons of animals. We saw a leopard, which Mike says he hasn't seen in three safaris. They are probably the shyest of the Big Five so that was pretty cool. We got within 4 meters of some elephants. We went to the Kenya/Tanzania border (two african countries down 53 to go). I saw a baboon baby that was just on day old! It was so tiny and cute and looked like it should be wearing a diper. When we got to the river to see hippos we got out of the van and were greeted by a man named Daniel holding an AK-47 and told to follow him. He showed us hippos and crocodiles, and even let me hold his gun. That part was nice b/c we got to walk down around the river, and he showed us where National Geographic and BCC come to film the wildebeest migration. We saw allllll kinds of animals; ostrich, cheetahs, merecats, tons of antelope, more lions, more elephants, zebra, lizards. It was absolutely quality.

The next day we visited a Maasai Village and saw their way of life. I really liked that and it was very interesting to see. After a short game drive we departed with the 3 day people and left just me, Thais, and David. We drove alllllll day before arriving in Nakuru after dark.

On the last day of safari we went to Lake Nakuru National park. We saw a rhino and completed the Big Five! That was really cool, we also saw lots of flamingos. Then after leaving the park we convinced Mike to make a detour to the equator!! One more bucket list check! The equator was really neat. A man showed us an experiment to prove that water drains the opposite direction on each side of the equator and drains straight down on the equator line. It made me really want to go flush a toilet on each side, but since flushing toilets are a rarity here I had to settle for not doing that. After the equator we made our way back to Nairobi and said our goodbyes.

The weekend was really cool, Mike is such a lovely guy. He was so funny and so knowledgeable. He promised to be able to answer 80% of our questions, but I don't think he missed even one. I was quite pleased with the whole exerience and would recommend it to anyone who is interested.

Okay! Picture time!

Kenya's Big Five:

Buffalo. Which kill more predators than any other animal.

Lion.

Elephant.

Rihno. One of Kenya's two variety (black and white)

Leopard. Not to be confused with a cheetah.





Our 4th day group.
Taken at the look out in Lake Nakuru National Park


Sunset, with not a touch of photoshop added. The colors were to die for.

Safari Van!

More lions.

A little baboon catching a ride from mom.

Lifestyle

Transportation: There are lots of things I will be more grateful for when I get home. Clean water, food, medical care, ect. One thing I never thought I'd be so grateful for though is... traffic laws. I have seen one speed limit sign since coming to Kenya. It was in a national park and I am quite sure it was more to protect the warthogs rather than the people. The driving here is insane. The cars consistently bump into each other while driving and that is things on a good day. It's common practice to drive on the wrong side of the road, and pass waiting traffic going about 50mph on the shoulder of the road. I laugh when I see driving schools in Kenya because I've deducted there is only one driving law: as long as you honk before, during, and after whatever you're about to do then it is completely acceptable on the road. I used to worry about things like our vehicle stopping 30 yds in front of an oncoming bus, but I just can't be bothered anymore. I can no longer count the number of close calls I've been in, and have come to accept that it's just another crazy part of Africa.

Matatus at a traffic circle in Mombasa

Matatus (mah-tah-too) are the definition of chaos. Everything about them. I am trying to decide the best way to explain this all via text but there is just no good way. First I suppose I should explain what a matatu is. It's basically a minibus/van that is crafted to seat up to 14 people. They are generally about one speed bump away from disrepair, and are the most sketchy, dangerous, efficient way of traveling anywhere in Kenya. While they are created to fit 14 people the more popular practice is to cram as many people as possible in at a time (my record is only 21, but 25 isn't difficult to achieve). The conductor and driver work as a team. The driver drives (duh) as quickly and efficiently as possible weaving in and out of traffic to get to the next stop in a hurry, while the conductor runs the show. As you approach a matatu tons of conductors swarm you (being a mzungu certainly doesn't help this) pulling you this way and that. “Twenty bob to Karen!” “Bau-m-bau junction!” “Sister come this way!” “Twende!” After you've selected your matatu (make sure you've selected the right route, and also be sure your matatu is already about half full to prevent long wait times) you clamor in a hope for a successful journey. When the matatu is full beyond reasonable capacity the conductor gives a whistle to the driver signaling our departure. Since there is generally too many people inside the minibus as is the conductor will more than likely settle for hanging out of the open door yelling at people on the side of the road. When he finds a willing candidate for the trip he will bang on the side of the matatu signaling the driver to swing onto the shoulder of the road and slow down a little bit so our newest member can hop on, simultaneously the conductor will also be collecting money and dealing out change. Speed is the name of the game in the matatu business. The faster you fill up your van the faster you can leave, the faster you leave the faster you unload and reload. It should go without saying that the faster you drive aids all of the above. The music is so loud you can hardly hear the person sitting next to you, and if you're not 100% vigilant you will be robbed before you have a chance to think twice. It's extremely common for tires to blow out or just fall off all together while en-route, and the roads are generally littered with broken down matatus. Which leads me to my next story.

The Playboy Matatu that drives the 126 route right by my house

This past Saturday on the way home from a neighboring town I was sitting in the front row of our matatu when I started to smell smoke. I thought this was odd, but the smog is so bad around here that I didn't worry too much about it... until smoke started billowing up from under my seat that is. Soon as he notices our conductor bangs on the matatu and our driver comes to a halt. I had every intention of getting the hell out of there, but before I could move the conductor leans completely across my body (trapping me where I was) and pulls a metal sheet from the bottom of the van and starts tinkering with the smoking machine (go ahead and add mechanic to the list of conductor duties). After a few uneasy minutes our conductor sits up and asks the men in the ride to get out and help him push. They oblige him and after we get a running start our matatu is on the way once more... for about two miles. The smoke began again, this time accompanied by an unsettling rattling (not due to the inane amount of bass) throughout the van. At this point the conductor admitted defeat and waved another matatu down for us to ride the rest of the way.

Long story short; matatus are just one more thing that sets Africa apart from the Western World. They are dangerous, but also a part of every day life here in Kenya. Each ride is guaranteed to be an adventure.

Kenyan food: I know I've said time and time again that I'd digging Kenyan food, but I haven't really explained much of what it is. So here is a brief explanation of Kenyan cuisine.

Githeri, rice, skuma, sliced up chapati, cabbage. YUMM

The food (as I've said before) is made with a purpose in mind: to fill you up as inexpensively as possible. I can think of three main staples that are made with none other than flour and water (possibly a wee bit of sugar or salt); uji, ugali, and chapati. Ugali is a very common dish here and I'd say most Kenyan's eat it at least 2-3 dinners a week. It is made from a maize flour and water mixture and is about the consistency of mashed potatoes with no flavor at all. The key to ugali is pairing it with something tasty, generally cabbage or skuma. Uji is a wheat flour and water mixture with the consistency of porridge. There are lots of beans in the diet here. Githeri is one of my favorite meals when it's made right, it's a mixture of maize kernels and beans. Lots of dishes are garnished with fresh produce bought from local markets as well. My body is definitely happy to be enjoying so much non-processed fresh foods lately. Cabbage is also very popular here, spiced up with some tomatoes and onion, I have to say it's not bad at all. Skuma is one dish I just can't stand. It's boiled spinach, occasionally with some kind of meat added to it... I'm not a fan. Green grahams (lentils) and chaptati seem to be the favorite food by the majority of the volunteers here. Chai is the national beverage here, and is quickly becoming an acceptable replacement for coffee in my daily routine.

Cooking githeri at Faraja

Breakfast normally consists of bread and butter and chai. A couple times a week we will get mandazi instead, which is a sort of Kenyan donut (excluding most of the sugar). Lunch is whatever we decide to do for ourselves; generally noodles or grilled corn from the man on the corner. There is also an array of cafes for us to eat lunch at and nyama choma as well. The cafes are little hole in the wall kinda places and serve almost the exact same food. My personal favorite is the beef stew pilau, because it's something our host mom never cooks. Dinner is made up of any of the main dishes I've explained, and Kenyan's don't understand the concept of desert in the least. None of the food here is made with sugar, so the cravings are (of course) endless. Most days just before dark we make a run to the sweets shop to get some cookies or chocolate to sustain ourselves till the next day. Since I'm a chronic snacker I've become a regular of the local juice shop. I visit at least once a day to pick up some fresh juice, and generally a banana. The mangoes here are also to die for, I never even knew I liked mango but now I'm not sure what I'll do without them.

I'm happy I'm liking the food, and I'm hoping that when I get home I'll still have a better out look on trying new things.

A dream come true.

I honestly don't even know where to begin on the last few days. How do you some up the best week of your life? I really don't think I can do it justice, but I will try. This is the reason I came to Kenya, this is my life's dream come true and I couldn't be any happier.

New Characters:
Nikki- My other female roommate, she doesn't work at Faraja but came along for the adventures this week.
Jack- A lovely English chap who I've known for a couple weeks, but until recently only came to Ngong on the weekends. He is now living here and working at Faraja with us.
Eunice- I haven't mentioned her much before, but in the last few days she has grown on my heart so much. She is the house help at Faraja. More or less a maid, though she doesn't get paid. She stuck around with the kids while Moraa was gone as well.

As you know returned from the coast at 6am on Wednesday morning. That day I walked to Faraja and said goodbye to Moraa who was going to Mombasa for a couple days, then spent the rest of the day recouping. That night I would be staying over at Faraja Children's Home for the first time. Honestly I was VERY uneasy about that. Moraa had asked us before if we wanted to, but we politely declined. I love the place and the kids, but it's just not exactly the kind of place you want to sleep. In Moraa's absence we couldn't very well decline though. So about 6:30 Wednesday night Nikki, Abi, and I set out to meet the others at Faraja. When we arrived I was feeling very apprehensive... which lasted all of ten minutes. It be came apparent very quickly that this was going to be one of my coolest nights in Kenya. Suddenly something had changed; the kids had gone from timid and, at times, stand offish to inclusive and excitable. Dama (one of the older girls) who has never said a word to me came up and gave me a high five and said “mambo.” “Poa” I replied with a giant smile on my face. Nancy who I'd never heard speak louder than a small whisper was yelling at her brothers and sisters for who knows what (my Swahili is lacking terribly still). After watching a little bit of a horribly dubbed version of The Hulk with some of the kids I went to the kitchen to see what was going on in there. I found Ann making something out of dough. Could my night get better? Was Ann serious sitting in front of me rolling dough to make CHAPATI (like a tortilla only 1000x better)!? Yes; she was. When she informed me of this I got obviously excited. She looked at me like I was wild for being excited over some round pieces of bread and asked me “Don't you eat chapati at home?” Unfortunately I had to tell her that Texans hadn't caught on to this wonderful taste sensation. Leave it to Ann (a 12yr old girl with more attitude and spunk than most adults) to fix that. She told me she was about to teach me to make chapati, and I certainly did not argue. After the dough was done being kneaded Eunice came in to help as well. First we had to rolled the dough into individual balls and set them aside while we got our “stove” (a coal burner with a flat piece of metal on top, sort of like a Kenyan hot plate) ready. Now, I've seen people here cook chapati, it always scared me. There is no spatula or oven mits, you do everything with your bare-hands and I am a WIMP when it comes to heat tolerance. Oh well, when in Kenya, right? So after the fire had died down a bit she rolled the first chapati out and placed in on the pan. Then she applied oil to the top and all around the edge to get under the chapati. After about eight seconds the grabbed it and flipped it, reapplied some oil, spun it a few times with the palm of her hand, flipped a time or two more and that was it; chapati cooking at it's best. It looked easy enough, the whole process took under 45 seconds and my tummy was already grumbling. My turn, Ann told me. She handed me the oil and spoon and placed a new chapati on the pan. Oil, check. First flip, check! More oil, check. Second flip, fail... miserably. “Owww! IT'S HOT! Help!” I panicked, handed everything to Ann and she took over like a pro. It was great. I had a ton of fun. I don't have the tough african hands the kids do and they got a kick from coming in and having to grab the chapati off the stove when I started panicking, but in the end I managed to make at least a couple by myself. And I tell you now, chapati has NEVER tasted so good. Later in the night I even got the bright idea to melt some of the chocolate I brought into the still steaming chapatis, and it was the closest to heaven I've ever been. I will most definitely be making chapatis when I get back to America. I think this is going to be one of my favorite memories of Africa, because the food is so iconic of the culture and it was wonderful to be taught by such a talented young girl. I was humbled by her teaching, and couldn't even be mad when she laughed at my struggle. I'll never forget Eunice standing over me saying “just believe you can do it” and telling me how proud she was of me (this is definitely not the first time I've learned to cook under Eunice's supervision).

Squealing while trying to cook chapati.

Other than making chapatis I ate dinner with the kids (25+ people crammed into a tiny living room) for the first time. One kid served them all ugali and beans out of two giant pots that had been dragged into the living room. The smaller kids sat on the floor right in front of the TV, the older kids offered us what few couch seats were available before sitting next to us where space remained, everyone ended up comfortable and full. After dinner I got to see the way the kids prepared their rooms for sleeping. There is two kid's rooms at Faraja; one for the girls, one for the boys. The rooms have next to nothing in them, a pile of mattresses and clothes scattered everywhere. At night they spread the mattresses out, covering the whole floor, and sleep two or three to a bed. Again, the word 'humbled' comes to mind. Thankfully the rooms were made before the power went out for the night, and after it did I sat in the dark with Eunice and some of the other girls talking until we grew tired and decided to call it a night.

That was my first night at Faraja. It was wonderful. It was tons of fun and very eyeopening. I was very happy to see how things were done round the clock, and I feel like the majority of the kids have become much more open around me. I thought that would be the peak of my week, but I couldn't have possibly been more wrong.

The next day we woke up and did some work around the house, mostly just our normal Faraja chores. Abi and I cooked cabbage all by ourselves and it was delicious. Then somehow between us, Eunice, and a few older girls we made our plan to go to the monkey park the next day. It had been something Abi and I had wanted to do since day one at Faraja, but she was leaving in two days and it was more or less a lost hope. However, when we all put our heads together a plan formed. The kids didn't have to go into school the next day so it was the perfect time. Abi and I left for a while and went into town to buy supplies to make sixty PB&J sandwiches for lunch on our big adventure, and I called a driver and found out that it would be 8,500 Ksh to rent a van for all the kids. After making the food Abi and I headed back to the orphanage for our second night there. It was just as great as the first. I was bouncing off the walls with excitement over the monkey park. I swear I was more excited than the kids! Before bed the kids needed to practice their songs for church. They argued about what songs to sing like any group of siblings would, yelling and harassing each other until an agreement was met. I don't think it mattered a bit. When the first notes came out of their tiny hearts I was instantly bewitched. It was one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard. It's no secret that I am not religious in the least, and I couldn't understand any word they said, but it was one of the most divine things I've ever witnessed. Their voices were lovely, but the real beauty came in the passion with which they sung. I couldn't have asked for a better way to end my night.

When we woke up on Friday (THE day) I was giddy, but also very nervous. I love Kenya, but nothing here is flawless. The plan was set, Abi would take the kids who needed to go to the hospital there, Ben would take the kids who needed to go to school there, Eunice would get the others ready and we would all meet at the junction in Ngong at 11am. Our driver called to confirm the plans at 10am and everything was looking good... until about 10:37am I got texts from Ben and Abi saying things were taking longer than expected and they didn't know when they'd be able to make it. It was touch and go for a second trying to play everything by ear. But in the end we all made it to the junction at about a quarter past 11 (that's marvelous for Kenyan time). Only one problem though... the bus was no where to be found. If you know me, then you should know I have some pretty crazy anxiety problems, so the lack of bus, grumpy adults, and restless kids was not on my list of things to deal with for the day. It was stressful, but I knew something would go wrong for the day so all things considered I was able to remain calm. An hour and a half later the bus shows up and we loaded the kids inside. I was giddy. Dancing around, squealing, with the biggest smile on my face. This was finally happening! The kids were happy, Kepha was baffled as to what was going on but looked to be having a good time. Kids wandered all over the bus trying to pick the perfect spot and the bus was pumping some perfect tunes, off we go!

Mama monkey and baby monkey

The bus ride there, in truth, was kind of nauseating. But upon arrival we roused the sleepy kids and took them to a field away from the park to eat. We doled out the sixty sandwiches with relief to the kid's apparent affinity for them (we weren't sure that the kids would like PB&J). The kids lounged in the field and munched on some lunch as we (the volunteers) sat in the shade with giant smiles on our face. After lunch we handed out cookies (biscuits for you English folk reading this) and the kids were delighted. Then came the fun part; monkey time. Ben and I sent the others ahead and went to go pick up some bags of peanuts for the kids to feed the monkeys. He told me repeatedly that the monkeys were smart and would steal the peanuts from me. In fact, I know that he said I should hide the peanuts before we walked into the park, but I was so excited I couldn't even focus. I walked to the park towards the kids and within 45 seconds a monkey leaped at me and I was able to move quick enough to swat him away. This jarred me a small bit but I was still so excited I just kept walking. Just about the time I made it to our group another monkey jumped on me. This time I wasn't able to move quick enough, it held on to my arm and went for the peanuts in full force. I was so freaked out I fell on the ground and more or less curled in a ball. That's all it took for me to secure my fear in monkeys. They've always made me kinda iffy. They're too smart, and I'm pretty sure they're evil too. Ben shooed the monkeys away and we only lost one bag of peanuts. I stood up shaken and with a couple scratches on my arm. We passed the peanuts out to the kids and let them have at it. It was the most beautiful chaos I've ever seen. There were monkeys absolutely everywhere, Kepha was terrified, the girls were wary, and the younger boys were running around chasing monkeys without a care in the world. Jack turned out to be some kind of monkey whisperer and had monkeys on his shoulders in no time, and Ben wasn't far behind. Eventually I decided to try my luck at monkey wrangling and bent down next to a park bench and held out a peanut. Lo and behold the monkey hopped right on. I handed my camera to Abi and tried not to grimace as I fed my new friend another nut. After snapping a couple photos I put the monkey down and went to play with the kids. They were very cautious of having monkeys on their shoulders at first, but soon as one child did it they all wanted to. We walked around helping the kids with the monkeys and getting pictures. It was awesome. They seemed to be having so much fun. After we'd spent ample amounts of time playing with the monkeys the kids started asking to go play on the “swing,” I'd looked around and hadn't seen a swing anywhere but we let them lead the way. They took us to a giant tree covered in hanging vines. It looked like something out of the jungle book. Before I knew it kids were way up in the tree and others were hanging upside down from the vines around the trunk. They played and played, and at one point the oldest most quiet girl from Faraja asked me to help her get a monkey on her shoulder and even let me get a picture of her! It was so wonderful. I don't know who had more fun, me or the kids. The day was a giant success; and as we got back on the bus I knew that I would never forget it. We took the kids back to Faraja and said our goodbyes (Abi for the last time) and made our way back home to Ngong.

All of the older kids were insistent on making Kepha like the monkeys

Jack with a monkey leaping off his head.

Wilakista, Jacklyn, Michael, and Mildred playing with a monkey.

I thought nothing could make the night better, but I ended up being dead wrong. Since Abi was leaving Sunday we had plans to go out for the night. After much deliberation on where to go we decided on Florida 2000, a notorious Nairobi club. The night ended being equally as awesome as the day. We danced for hours, laughed as prostitutes hit on Jack while trying to pickpocket him, enjoined a delightful dance show. As I crawled into bed at 4am I was content beyond measure, on a high that I hoped would never end.

Re-reading all of that I see just how far I've come from being able to describe the real impact it has on my life, but I hope that it at least gives you an idea. It amazes me how little it takes to make these children smile. Every time I break out my camera they all want to have a try with it (much to my dismay that they won't let me teach them how haha), they spin around snapping blurry shots here and there and giggle as they see their siblings pop up on the screen. Even Eunince has to try and control her excitement when politely ask to see the photo when I take a picture of her. Friday was a day for every one to just relax and let go, a day for everyone to be a kid.

Pheobe with a monkey on her shoulders, she is one of the shyer
girls at Faraja, but I think she had lots of fun.

As of Friday I also have to say there is only one more thing left on my Kenyan bucket-list: safari. Which is convenient since I am going this weekend. I'm also quite sure this weekend will lead to some great things for Faraja as well.

Spring Break: Mombasa

The Crew:

Me
Julie: 26/27, Seattle, Washington
Jono: 23ish, Australia
Katie: 23, San Diego, California
Bud: 23ish, Tallahassee, Florida
Mikhaila: 18, Australia
Abi: 18, England

Friday: The trip started out with one of the single most uncomfortable vehicle rides of my life; nine hour ride to the coast. I was quite happy to get out of the bus and sit on the ferry as we rode across the bay. Upon arriving at our accommodations we were all surprised! We were staying in a cottagey kinda thing. It was SO nice! All open air, so the breeze filtered through beautifully. We had two (semi-warm) showers, a stove, mosquito nets, three different lounge areas, a pool, and last but not least... a washing machine!! It was truly lovely. We spent the first day checking out the local beach scene and cooked some spaghetti with homemade sauce and went to bed pretty early.

Saturday: Again we spent the day hanging out at the beach, but the real fun of Saturday came at night. We also have a barbeque at our cottage and were all quite keen on having a cookout. So we did just that. Saturday night could be summed up in three words: barbeque, booze, pool. Probably my favorite night of the trip. We started cooking just before dark and the night didn't end until two bottles of rum, great food, and tons of fun had been had by all, at about half past three in the morning. For an appetizer we had some sausages (well, I didn't. There is somethings I really just don't like) and roasted potatoes. We grilled kbobs which were delicious!! Peppers, onion, tomatoes, and chicken. I enjoyed helping make them and they were SO good. I just hear everyone at home saying “I told you so.” There was even mashed potatoes which is a home staple I've been really missing. The food was great. Our radio broke that night which kinda put a damper on things but we managed to have a blast regardless and I'm sure we still kept the locals up all night (oops). Overall the night was a smashing success.

Sunday: Julie's birthday!! Well, the day ended up being a bust to be honest. We'd planned to go snorkeling for her bday. But by the time we all pulled ourselves out of bed from the night before, and made it down to the beach, it was already high tide. So we scheduled snorkeling for the next day at 9am.Today was the day I enjoyed the beach the most (also the day we spent the least time there). We found a little place where there were lots of rocks and coves. It was so pretty!! I explored and played with hermit crabs while the others played on the beach/water. It was really nice. The tide came up so high while I was in one of the coraly cove things that I had to carry all my stuff above my head and walk on my tippy toes to get back to the main beach. The highlight of Sunday night was definitely Julie's birthday dinner. After consulting our trusty Kenya guidebook she decided that we'd be going to a place called Ali BarBour's for dinner. The restaurant was located in a coral cave on the beach, which made it awesome in itself. Moreover the atmosphere was just lovely. It was a really really nice place. The food was quite expensive, but in the end I think it was worth it. I ordered Snapper Ndizi, which was Red Snapper sauteed in a butter sauce served with some kind of bananas on top. It was super tasty. Everyone at the table was very proud of me for trying new things, haha. It was nice to have relaxing dinner and just have a calm night out, and I think in the end Julie was happy with her birthday.

Monday: Snorkeling time! :) I've never really been snorkeling and to be honest I wasn't so keen on the idea, but it ended up being a lot of fun. I saw a really pretty starfish, an eel, and lots of colorful fun fish. The water was nice and blue as well. About half way through the snorkeling adventure I started hurting too bad from my sunburn to continue so I sat on the boat and looked thorough the glass bottom at all the fish underneath us. I was kinda bummed I couldn't continue, but the anti-malaria pills we're on just make us so susceptible to sunburn that I didn't want to deal with Kenya's equatorial sun any longer.

After snorkeling we went back to the cottage and hung out and got ready for another night out. This time the destination was Forty Thieves; the most popular bar/restaurant in Dianni Beach. I had fish and chips for dinner which was fried, unhealthy, and awesome. The venue was more beach bar-like than the night before, and after dinner the dining area turned into a dance floor and the music was cranked up. It was good fun, it was probably the most lax night of all to me because there was a place to sit, a place to dance, a place to drink and a full beach to enjoy. I see why Forty Thieves is so well known; everyone was able to do what they wanted without pressure to move on to the next activity.

Tueday: Abi and my last day. We spent this day in the city of Mombasa; my favorite part of the trip. We started out by going to Fort Jesus and getting a tour around the old fort. It was cool, I don't have much to say on the subject, but if you're ever in Mombasa I would recommend checking it out for sure. Then we started a walking tour of Old Town. I loved this! I'm not big into architecture, but you couldn't help but be transpired when looking around here. The Arabic influence was apparent everywhere and walking down the narrow streets barely big enough for a tuktuk was a delight. It was cool to be walking down the empty streets when there was the call for prayer, and be able to listen to it echoing off the walls all around you. The best part about walking around was the street food. The vendors in Kenya are endless, but the food was a lot different then here in Ngong/Nairobi. I'm a notorious snacker, so this was my kind of thing for sure. It was a great way to have lunch, spending ten bob every 100 yds to try something new. I sampled fresh potato chips, donuts, somosas, dried mango, some sort of Indian hushpuppy thing, African pizza, and coconut cakes made of rice. The donuts were probably the best I've ever had in my life, cooked in a small pan in an alley covered with garbage, a small bit of oil and then covered in sugar; at one kenyan shilling (Ksh) a piece I was tempted to spend a fortune. The somosas were the best I've had on this trip as well (mind you I didn't even know what a somosa was a month ago) so good I had to go back for another. The African pizza was a new treat, and something I haven't seen anywhere else in Kenya. It's also called Chapti Pizza I believe. Minced meat mixed with some chopped onion then fried inside an egg pizza kinda thing. I can't really describe it, but it was yummy. We also visited the spice market which was pretty neat, but honestly being a mzungu makes things of that nature so hard to enjoy sometimes. You can't really walk around and enjoy things because people are so in your face trying to get you to look at their goods. I ended up finding some Kenyan coffee I was happy with and bought a couple bags to bring home along with some tea leafs. All in all Mombasa was a great place and I'd like to return if I'm ever in Kenya again. From there we said our goodbyes to some of the best company I've met since leaving America and caught our bus back home.

Other things to note:

We had cats. They were freak mutant cats. I'm convinced they were part lion, in fact. I've had cats my whole life and never seen any quite like these. They also made some of the strangest noises I've ever heard. And they stood on the bbq and stole our chicken. It was a love/hate relationship.

There were centipedes. The size of my arm. Ok, well not really, but it seemed like it. They were black with tons of tiny red legs. I think they are actually the first aliens to invade earth. They scared the hell out of me. And on that note, I had wondered where all the creepy crawlies in Kenya were, and I found out this weekend. Another than centipedes we also saw the biggest beetle I've ever seen. Jono called it a Christmas beetle... WHO WANTS A BEETLE FOR CHRISTMAS?! Not me. But still very very few misquitos which is pretty nice, hopefully no Malaria for this chic.

This one may not make much sense to some people. But I tried Vegemite. It was AWFUL. I can't fathom that Marmite would be any better. My point: The Australians and British have an inane argument going. They both suck. Peanut butter FTW.

The weekend was quite a delight, honestly though I am so so happy to be back in Ngong. Dirty feet, shotty electricity, and miserably cold showers are home to me now. Which brings me to my next adventure:

Mama Moraa is going out of town for the next three days; which means it's time for the Faraja crew to really having a taste of orphanage life. We'll be sleeping over, waking up at 5am, cooking, and attempting to run Faraja as well as Moraa does. I have a feeling the kds will end up taking more care of us than we will of them, but I'm up to the challenge! What an adventure this will be...

Play time.

Today as we approached Faraja we could hear squeals, giggles, and tears. This is unual since the kids would normally be at school. Upon opening the gates we were greeted by nearly all (except a few older girls) of the kids. Moraa explained that they were out of school for the day and had already done all the work. At this point they were just running around causing a ruckus. I offered to take them out to play and she was grateful. First I walked back to Ngong and got the soccer ball I had brought from home. The air pump I brought was broke, which really sucked. But thankfully we were able to get the ball blown up by the man working at the petro station. After walking back towards Faraja I called Ben and told him "Twende!" (let's go) and waited at the bottom of the hill. The sight of the kids running down the hill was slightly chaotic but one of the best things I've seen since I came here. They were all shouting and ripped the ball out of my hands and just kept running. Ben handed Kepha to Abi and I and took off after the other boys (do they ever grow up? lol).

Playing soccer with the kids has been one of the things I've wanted to do ever since I knew I was coming to Kenya. And it didn't dissapoint. They played for hours, in a dirt field cover with rocks and cows. I was shocked and humbled when I saw many of them playing barefoot. I mostly watched, but I hopped in the game every now and again, and let myself go enough to scream "GOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLL" and run around and high fives all the kids when necesary.

One of the boys came up to me about midgame and said "band-aid?" and I asked why. He showed me his foot which was covered in blood. no band-aid was going to do the trick and of course I couldn't convince him to walk home and stop playing. Time to improvise! I took him to my backpack to see what we could do. First we rinsed his foot off and I had him clean the cut (it wasn't bad, but in a really inconvintent spot) I gave him some alcohol swabs and he cleaned it (6 of the kids at Faraja have HIV so caution is a must). Next I help him put a gauze pad on it and tied one of my socks around his foot to hold it using extra ponytail holders. I gave him my other sock to cover the attempted bandage and a kid loaned him one shoe (I never understood that part). With that it was back to the game.

It was a blast. They had a lot of fun and so did I. On the downside I am burnt to hell. Which is really unfortunate since I've heard nothing but horror stories of the Mombasa sun. Most people I know insist they've lost a full layer of skin after their adventures at Kenya's east coast paradise. Oh well I guess I'm just starting the game early. And what is it about sunburn that makes you SO tired? I napped today for the first time in a while, but that could also be because the kids ran me ragged.

Anyway, I am going to the coast this weekend. We leave tomorrow night at 9pm.I'm going with about 10 people and I have only met 1.5 of them, that makes me kind of nervous, but actually it should be an awesome opportunity for networking (since I still need to find a group to go to the equator with!). Im excited since I've never actually been to a real beach before. This place has a way of catching up to you that isn't always so plesant, and I need a break to regroup my head. Next time I blog should be from the beach :D

Rays coming from the sunset on the walk home

from Faraja.

Alright! Weekend recap in 25 words or less:

Sickly, fever, gross, sleep, sleep, delicious lunch, hitch-hiking, dog = safety, cuddly, giraffes, kisses, cheesy TV, blogging, Red Bull, danger, more hitch-hiking, pedicures, Mzungu Sunday.

Faraja Children's Home

I had a quite pleasant Monday. It started out by waking up and running a few errands. It was nice to be able to relax in the morning and do my own thing. But the best part of the day was when we went to Faraja. There was a lot of work to do yesterday, but I realized I didn't mind a bit. Kepha was in a great mood, and insisted on “helping” with all the chores. First things first: dishes. Since we got there a little passed one in the afternoon the kids had just left and there were plenty of lunch dishes to do. We knocked this task out no problem, which was nice because it's usually my least favorite. To my surprise Kepha is a shockingly good dishwasher for a toddler... well till he realized he could just play in the water instead. Next, we had to sort beans. This chore sucks, but not because it's hard to do. It's super tedious, and there is no fun in it at all [I stand corrected, continue reading]. Sorting beans is exactly what it sounds like. Moraa hands you a five gallon bucket of beans and you pick through them individually to sort the good from the bad. Since the majority of Faraja's food is donated it's not always the best quality; sorting the beans ensures that the kids don't wind up eating beans with bugs in them. Like I said, it's not a hard thing to do, it's just very time consuming and the bucket never ever seems to get any less full. Yesterday Ben and Kepha spiced the chore up by throwing beans everywhere: at the cat, in people's shirts, in people's mouths, over the fence, anywhere possible (Ben's forte is making all the children counterproductive to what ever task I'm trying to complete). On a normal day this would have irked me, but Kepha was having so much fun I couldn't even be bothered. About this time in the day Moraa told us she needed to go to the District Office and asked us to watch the orphanage while she was gone. Can a couple wazungu (plural mzungu) run an African orphanage for a just a few hours? Yes and no.

After Moraa left we finished sorting. Then I washed the beans and removed all the ones left floating (they're hollow and therefore no good) and Ben went to deal with the chickens. [Side note: watching Kepha help us round up stray chickens definitely goes on the top 10 cutest things I've ever seen list] Next Ben and I started dinner. We were cooking githeri (a maize and bean mixture, it's quite nice). We added our washed and sorted beans to the maize that had already been cooking since noonish, cooking for nearly 40 people is a lot more difficult than cooking in a small pot at home. Having to stir all of this stuff together in a GIANT pot takes muscle. When we felt confident that it was mixed enough we tried to get the fire under the pot (with Kepha fanning to ensure the fire has oxygen)... we failed. After working at it for about ten minutes some of the kids started arriving home from school. A girl named Jaclyn was able to get our fire up and going in under three minutes (kids: 1 wazungu: 0). For the rest of the time we were there we just supervised the kids and helped them with a couple chores here and there, within an hour of them being home they had swept the whole yard, washed all the uniforms, bathed the younger kids, mopped the house, organized laundry, and tons more (kids: 396 wazungu:0). When I went to stir the githeri and make sure the fire was still going Kevin happened to be watching and more trying to gain his trust than actually assuming I had screwed up I asked him “am I doing it right?” He looked at me like I was joking and said “there is no water in that.” Uhhh... oops? I was supposed to add water? Duh. So I brought back a pitcher of water and poured it in. “Enough?” I asked. Apparently not, I worked on filling this stupid pot for ever while Kevin watched me with a mixture of confusion and humor. By the time I was nearly finished with the water the fire was dying and Jaclyn was back at it. Eventually the Kevin/Jaclyn combo told me that it was okay, I'd tried, they would take over making dinner now. I just got schooled by kids half my age, but I have no regrets. These kids are 10x the person I was at that age, and most more than I'll ever be. (kids: ∞)

This was just an average day at Faraja Children's Home. Not much special happened, but the reason I am posting this is too give you an idea just how smart and resourceful these kids are. Kepha is not even two years old and he knows how to help with every chore in the house. Hell, if the kid could reach the clothes line I'd consider paying him (in piggyback rides) if he'd do my laundry. Goodness knows he's better at it than I am. He's less afraid of the kukus (chickens) than Ben will ever be, and can work a broom that's taller than he is. He's the youngest person in the house, imagine the other kids! Marry and Dama (the two oldest girls 16/17) can run the house without a hitch. The kids respect each of them almost as much as Moraa. When I just give up and sit there helpless as the kids run circles around me Dama can walk in and with a few sharp-sounding swahili words the kids will be sitting on their beds with pencils in hands ready to listen to whatever I have to say. Nancy and Phoebe are a dynamic duo (approx 6/7). Yesterday I watched them sweep the entire yard till it was spotless, this is hard to achieve considering their yard is made of stone/dirt. Long story short, the kids are awesome. It hurts me to see how fast they have to grow up, but at the same time I know it's unavoidable. The older girls rarely laugh which breaks my heart, and I only hope that the younger kids will grow up knowing more joy in their lives. I talked to Moraa about the monkey park again yesterday and it sounds like it's a plan. We've set a date for Saturday April 9, so I guess that means I better get to planning. I'm excited and I hope it all works out in an affordable manner. I think it will do the kids a world of good to get out of the house for once and have an opportunity to be kids.

Faraja Children's Home; a call for help

I feel like in the last week I have neglected the real reason I came to Kenya. I came here to volunteer and do my best to make an impact on the community. Every weekday for the last week and a half I have gone to Faraja to work along side Ben and Abi to do our best to make a difference in the run down orphanage. To be honest though, when I think about everything the kids need and that Moraa needs to help run the orphanage I become so overwhelmed it makes it hard to focus on any one thing. So, therefore, I am asking for your help. I need some new perspectives, new thoughts, and some hope for these people. I'm asking you to read up on Faraja Children's Home and give me your thoughts and opinions. Any help is much appreciated.

Faraja is ran solely by a woman named Moraa (Mor-ah) and has been in existence for about seven years now. Everyday Moraa manages to take 'mom' to a whole new level. The days start off at 5:30am when Moraa wakes the kids for breakfast, from there she helps the all get ready for school before sending them off for the day. This is when the real work starts. It may seem like the hard part of running an orphanage would be when the kids were actually home, but that would be incorrect. While the kids are at school Moraa has the laundry of 36 people to do (remember there are no washers/dryers here, in fact Faraja has neither electricity nor running water), clean the home, visit with social workers, she also has to wash the dishes from breakfast and start preparing lunch for the kids who come home midday, feed and water the chickens, and collect what few eggs they've laid. Again, you might think that was the hard part... and again, you're mistaken. When the kids get home from lunch Moraa ensures that they have a speedy meal and make it back to school for their afternoon lessons. From there it's a whole new pile of dishes (by now I'm sure you've gathered that there are also no dishwashers), and afternoon chores. When the kids get home in the evening she has to tutor the ones who need tutoring, counsel the children who need counseling because they've lived more screwed up lives than most people double their age, ensure that all of the kids are bathed and make dinner for the rowdy bunch of 35 orphans before bedtime at 9:30pm. In the beginning I assumed that was the hard part of running a foundation like Moraa's; the physical labor and grueling hours. But I couldn't have been more wrong. The hard part is not knowing where the next meal is coming from, having to find time to make the 45 minute walk into town to beg for donations and food, arguing with the government as they try and give you more kids but down right refuse to give you any funds or aid in raising them.

Faraja Children's Home is currently receiving no income other than the few hundred shillings a week she is able to make from selling the chicken eggs that her kids don't eat (a bag of chicken feed costs 2,100 shillings so you can see how counterproductive that is). The home is 100% dependent on donations and charity, and in a country where everyone has a sob story those are not always easy to come by. I remember the very first time I met Moraa she seemed so pleased that Ben, Abi, and I had come to work that day. “Oh good! I can go to town and beg now,” is essentially what she told us. Not before she insisted on taking a cup of tea with us and getting to know her new comers, however. I have never before seen hospitality like this woman. “How are mom and dad,” she asked me within minutes of shaking my hand. Only after I assured her they were well would she excuse herself to the kitchen to bring us a hot cup of chai. It took exactly that; one cup of chai tea in Faraja's rundown living room, for me to realize just how much Moraa loved everyone of these orphans she calls her children.

There are currently 35 orphans living in Faraja. Kepha is the youngest of the kids being just 18 months old, he sticks around the house all day reeking havoc in the most precious way possible. Being gone from him for just two days during the weekend makes my heart ache and I appreciate his snotty nose hugs every Monday through Friday. Marry is the oldest of the gang at 17 years old and is 2^nd in charge behind Moraa. The other 33 kids vary in age, but all of them are more grown up than any numeric value can convey. Many of them have lived rougher lives than I'd wish on anyone. They are scrappers, kids who have the priorities of adults. And anyone who has grown up with siblings knows what it's like. You've got to be a little tougher; that's just fact. Now imagine your siblings just so happen to be a few dozen African orphans?

One might think that with all of this adversary and conflict in their lives that the kids of Faraja would be ornery or unkind. But this couldn't be farther from the truth. They are the definition of family. I enjoy watching the way the children interact with each other because they're love for one another is so apparent. I've seen them share food that's given to them even when they know there is a chance another meal couldn't come for a few days. And their respect for Moraa is transpiring. While the last few paragraphs may sound like a concoction for depression, this also is untrue. I've never met someone so optimistic, hopeful, and caring as Moraa. Her attitude reflects on the kids and the atmosphere of Faraja is always welcoming and positive. Days when I want to ask Moraa “what next,” I just bite my tongue. I know her answer, “God will provide.”

The needs of the Children's Home are innumerable; starting with basic needs (food, money, medicines) ranging all the way to school books/uniforms and new mattresses. Trying to benefit such a place in just 6 weeks seems a daunting task. One I am not sure I am up to, honestly. I never in a thousand years imagined my time working in an orphanage would have involved so much cooking and cleaning and so very little time actually spent with kids (they are at school the majority of the time I am at work, though Abi and I have started staying later in the day to hopefully do some tutorials). Ben has spent nearly two months at Faraja now and is working very hard on a grant proposal to send to some major organizations here and possibly in America. With his success he would bring Moraa an income that would help her with all of the needs of her giant family.

One thing that Outreach Weekend taught me is that projects are best when they are made to be sustaining. Meaning, that while I could stick around here and do a little work at Faraja and hold some flashcards up for some kids, what am I really doing? Soon as I leave it will all be for naught. I want to do something for these kids... something that lasts.

A past volunteer set up a chicken program; meaning set bought chickens and a chicken coop in hope that she could sell the chicken eggs in order to make some money. Which was great in theory, but when things got harder for Moraa the chickens have become difficult to feed which means they stop producing eggs. It is, however, this type of mentality I'd like to have. Some thoughts I've had include writing profiles on all of the children, and hoping to get independent sponsors for them. But where? What about the kids who don't get sponsors? Is there any point in bothering with the profiles? I thought about trying to set up some kind of steady tutoring program (many kids over the age of 13 can't even read), but that seems like such a moot point when they might well be distracted from hunger while being tutored. I hope to go home and do some kind of fundrasing at home, but even then it's not sustainable. Ben and I have been writing to different companies and organizations asking for sponsorship and donations but our luck has been... well... shit.

Here's where you come in. I am asking for you help. Any kind of help I can get. Honestly I'd like to pick your brains more than anything. Help me help Moraa, the kids, and Faraja Children's School. Help me create something sustaining. Your ideas are golden. Feel free to respond in the comments, via email (portia.duke@gmail.com), via facebook (add me with my email) any way you want. If by chance you would like to make a physical donation of some kind you can also contact me at any of the following and I will of course ensure that it's used with every bit of integrity possible.

I would also like to take a second to say thank you to everyone reading my blog, I know there is many people who I have never met who've been keeping up and that means a lot to me. I would also like to thank all the friends and family who helped make this possible, all in your own ways. Your support and company on this journey has been invaluable to me. Thank you, everyone.

By popular request, I present to you pictures of my Kenyan life.

First, a virtual tour of Ngong. Mind you no pictures could even begin to capture the true essence of Ngong, and cameras are not exactly something to flash around while walking alone. But I've done my best.

The view from the main junction in Ngong.



The sweets/ice cream/juice shop I (obviously) frequent.


Side road behind our apartment.


The giant trash heap next to our apartment building.
Often smoking, always covered with goats.


The place I call home.

Next, a couple shots of my roommates.

Issac and Nikki doing what they do best.
(DJing & Eating)


Abi & Ben eating nyama choma mentioned in the previous post.


The Faraja crew

Lastly, a couple random snapshots.

A real live dung beetle.
Worth every bit of the money I paid to come to Africa.

Kids of the KCC slum in Navashia.

Hell's Gate National Park


Hiking through the gorge.


And, of course, puppies.