Shade Butchery

More like Shady Butchery. This post is without a doubt, dedicated to my dad.

Today Ben, Abi, and I went to lunch before going into work. We agreed yesterday that we should get some Nyama Choma soon, so today was the day. Nyama (nuh-yah-muh) Choma (cho-muh) is often called the national dish of Kenya, and stands for 'grilled meat'. It's like Kenyan BBQ. I was starved, and if you know me you know I love meat. Ben told us he knew a good place to get nyama choma and he hasn't led us wrong before (especially on food) so we trusted him. He led us to a place called Shade Butchery. Shade was a total dive. A shack behind another shack. The dingiest and sketchiest looking place I can imagine eating bbq. Well to be fair, the kitchen didn't even really exist so I can't say much on that note. After our fearless leader Ben ordered us some meat and a couple cokes we went to sit at a picnic table in a little cubby to the side of the kitchen. After we sat down a man brought out a couple cutting boards and set them on the table, then returned with about a quarter of a cow. I was shocked, but I could already feel my stomach growling. He set the hunk of meat down and pulled out a giant shank-like knife and proceeded to hack up the nyama choma in front of us. It was the most brutal display of food I've ever seen. When he was done he left us to it. There was no clean proper way to eat this. We ate like animals, and I tell you now; cow has never tasted so good.

When we could take small breaks between chowing down to talk we spoke of how dodgy the place was, and the potential diseases we could get from eating this meat. In the end the food was great, and we paid 400 Ksh ($5ish) for the whole lot of it. Shade Butchery is certainly on my recommendation list if you ever happen to be passing through Kenya.

For desert? None other than a 20 shilling ($0.30) bag of the best sugar cane the street vendors of Ngong can offer.

Meal = success

Joining the Club!

It happened! Way too early in the game I must admit. I was pick-pocketed last night (calm down mom!). I'm fine. My stuff is, thankfully, fine. Here's what happened:

Well, I suppose it might help to say I completely jinxed myself. Yesterday afternoon I was talking to a friend back home and explaining that living in Kenya is worrisome at times, and that's what makes it nice. The risk of danger/theft makes you more alert and I finally feel like I'm actually living. It's certainly not politically correct, squishy, happy America.

So... The four of us had planned to do karaoke, on Tuesday, all weekend. The power had been out all day so we got ready in the dark, and then shortly before leaving it came back on. So, of course, we (the girls) did a few last minute touch ups, causing us to leave when the sun was just setting. Mind you, this is not a dangerous time... well anymore dangerous than most daylight hours at least. The problem with this time of day is that it's rush hour, both on foot and in vehicles here in Kenya. Tons of people walking past you and gone before you can blink an eye. Makes for easy pick-pocketing. However, I'm too smart for that and got on our bus to town without complications. Upon sitting on the bus next to Abi I spotted the front seats were open. You know me... I'm easily amused. So I asked Abi to come sit in the front seat with me. As we moved to the front I sat in the seat next to the window and the rest of our crew (Ben, Nikki, and Naomi's nephew Issac) moved with us. While waiting for the bus to fill and take off I felt something grab my leg. I turned just in time to see a man's arm reaching through the bus window, swiping his hand across my leg, pull his arm out of the window and quickly walk away. It happened so fast, and I didn't really see much, so I just thought it was really odd. I turned to Abi and Nikki and told them what happened and we concluded that it was really strange, but just one of a thousand “this is Africa” moments. Shortly later I reached in my pocket to send a text to my best friend about what had just happened... the rest of the story is pretty simple. I patted down all my pockets and had a giant “DUH” moment. Of course the man had taken my phone, it must have slipped out of my pocket when I sat down, making it visible through the window.

I'm relieved that only my phone was stolen. It could have been a lot worse. I know few people here who have not been pick-pocketed. When I nice looking man walked up to my roommate and asked her to pick up the change he dropped on the ground, she was robbed of her wallet (debit cards, money, ids, ect). My other roommate got his passport stolen and is kinda stranded here in Kenya. The schemes are endless; “Quick! Police! Put on your seat-belt” someone will yell, then while you're distracted they'll relieve you of your Ipod, camera, wallet, $20 phone, anything really. Their job is to steal, and they are damn good at it. If you're not sitting in the middle seat (easy target) on a matatu they'll claim they are going to vomit and need to sit next to the window, forcing you to move to the most vulnerable seat on the ride. Thankfully we've been given prior knowledge to the majority of these tricks, but that certainly doesn't stop people from trying. I never carry all my money on me at once, never carry my debit card on me unless absolutely necessary, and haven't taken my passport out once. I'm generally very cautious of my surroundings and now that I've joined the club I hope I will be more careful in the future.

Another problem with pick-pockets in Kenya is that it's really hard to do anything about it. The police couldn't possibly care less, and often times the crooks will turns things on you. And sure, you can tell a local that's nearby or scream at the thief. But there is a 50/50 chance that vigilant justice will take over and the perpetrator will be beat to death before anyone can stop the madness. As you can imagine it's generally easier to just let go of your belongings rather than play Russian Roulette with someone else's life over replaceable goods.

So for those of you interested my NEW Kenyan number is: 0787211167. I don't advise calling me for any reason really, the charges are absurd. If you need to get in contact with me text me and ask me to call you, though I will warn you that some charges may apply. For the people waiting on my address: I'm working on it! The places here don't actually have addresses. It's kinda like this; Ngong Road on the corner after you turn left at the gas station. Not quite the kinda thing you wanna write on a post card. I know it's possible to send donations to the Fadaili office however I haven't been able to get in touch with them for the last few days and I promise to call again today.

Not For Vegitarians

Just a quick post before I go back to work today.



Last night some friends and I went to Carnivore in Nairobi. It's basically the Kenyan version of Texas De Brazil. All you can eat meat. Our meal started off with some minestrone soup and drinks. I ordered a cocktail called a Dawa that I've been waiting to try for ages. The Dawa is a Kenyan specialty made table side with vodka, honey, lime and sugar cane. It was pretty strong but not too bad. After soup came the main courses. Meat. We started out with some lamb, pork, turkey, beef, and bull balls. Then we got to the real treat of the meal, the exotic meats. We sampled camel, crocodile, and ostrictch meatballs. I tried everything, but the ostritch meatballs were my favorite (everyone else agrees). We absolutely stuffed ourselves. Then for desert I had cheesecake (I've been craving some SGFC!). To make the chzcake a little more adventurous and local they topped it with a passion fruit sauce which was lovely. In the end my bill was about 3,500 shillings and my tummy was quite satisfied.



Our trip home was a nightmare!! First off our driver had no idea he had to drive us all the way to Ngong even though we told him repeatedly. Then... we ran out of gas at a petrol station. He was baffled that he could get gas from the closed station we stopped at and decided the best idea was to lock two young mzungo girls in the car and walk away. He left us in the car alone for about 20 minutes while he went to go search for gas (mind you he didn't inform us that he was leaving). There were people just standing outside the car staring at us like dogs in a cage. It was pretty scary (considering we've been warned to stay off the streets at night a thousand times). Oh well... this is Africa. You go with the flow and hope for the best. Eventually he came back on a motorbike with some gas and put enough in the tank to get us to Ngong.





This morning Abi and I walked to town to barter over some chicken feed then we cooked Ugi (flour and water porrige) for the first time mostly by ourselves and the kids who came home from lunch even said it was good. Go us! I tried to eat it but I really couldn't it was awful to be honest. I came to town to grab a bite and post a blog real quick, but now it's time to go back to Faraja. This week I'm going to focus on getting to know the kids and making sure they are comfortable around me so that I can make the most of my time with them. I'm thinking about organizing a soccer game on Friday! Hope it goes well.





I should have a pretty good post up sometime this week that gives a better look at Kenyan lifestyle. See ya then!

Just got home from Outreach (4.5 hours late) and I have to say I have never looked forward to Ugali (Oo-gah-li) so much! I was starved. Now my stomach has nearly as much to digest as my head.

My weekend started at 5:30ish on Friday when Abi and I woke up and caught our first Matatu (a minibus used as public transportation, more on these to follow in future posts) all by ourselves. Pretty uneventful besides the conductor trying to charge us double the normal fare. Then we met with the other volunteers at Junction and grabbed my very first Kenyan coffee before setting off on our adventures.

First stop was the KCC Slum in Navashia. This was easily the most mild project we saw all weekend, and even so it was heartbreaking. KCC is currently home to about 6000 people who were living in metal shacks and had no access to clean water. The housing accommodations for the people of the slum were what shocked me the most. Can you imagine living in an aluminum heat of African summer? Honestly though, to me, KCC was an experience of hope and inspiration. The volunteers took the initiative into their own hands and have since then set up a school (all the teachers being women of the slum) and have been able to provide the children with lunch five days a week.

Reading to the kids during activity time.

One of the many faces from the KCC Slum

After feeding the kids and spending lots of time playing different activities with them we left for Hells Gate National Park. This was (obviously) the fun part of the weekend. It started out with a four mile bike ride through the park. For someone who is chronically lazy and hasn't ridden a bike in many many years I have to say I did quite well. On the ride down to the gorge we saw the famous Pride Rock and actually had to stop once to let some zebras cross the road in front of us. It was pretty wild, no pun intended. When we got to the end of the bike ride we started our descent into the gorge..barefoot (due to rising water levels). I can now say I've successfully hiked in Africa sans shoes. It was absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. No pictures can do it justice. After making it back to the top of the gorge we headed to Gilgil where we would be staying for the night. The HOT SHOWERS at our hotel were worth every penny of the $130 we paid to go on the Outreach weekend. Running water is a rarity here in Kenya, but to get a hot shower is an event to be cherished.

In the gorge! How I didn't break my neck will forever remain a mystery.

Pushing our matatu out of the mud.

In the morning we had breakfast and then started our next project; divvying four 90k bags of flour into about 240 smaller 1.5L bags for distribution to the people of the IDP camp and Garbage slum. Then we loaded the bags into the matatu and set out for Vumilia IDP. As we were driving across the mud-filled field our matatu spun off the dirt road and into the bush facing 180 degrees in the opposite direction. Then we proceeded to get stuck in the mud as we tried to get back the road. Children came running from the camp to help us get the truck unstuck, it was precious. In the end we (the volunteers) pushed it out of the mud and we finally made it to IDP .

The Vumilia IDP (Internally Displaced People) camp was quite an eye opener. It was the first time since coming to Kenya I didn't feel like I was ready to see the things that I saw. The luckier people of Vumilia are living in 'tents' that the UN provided in 2007 after the violence, which is fine... except that the tents were only made to last six months. The not-so-lucky people have made their own tents from flour sacks and sticks. When we were invited inside of a 'home' the heat was unbearable. The tents also leak causing mold and damp beds. The heat, along with the mold, made the air hard to breath and being in the tent for just ten minutes left me feeling dizzy. For these same reasons many of the people at the camp have respiratory problems that they cannot get medication for. One thing that I feel like really sets the IDP camp apart from some of the other slums here is that these people had no choice but to relocate. They lost their property, their homes, and in some cases their families because of other people's actions. Then when the government promised each family 10,000 shillings in repercussion it was stolen from them by a middle man leaving them nothing once again. These people had lives, jobs, educations. Now they are depending on the small bag of flour they get every two weeks and prostituting their daughters for extra money. The volunteers placed at the IDP camp have started a school and also feed the kids Ugi (a water and flour porridge, no nutritional value) a couple times a week. This seems to be successful so far and I hope it continues to work well for them.

A woman working in her garden outside her home in the IDP camp.

Last comes the Gioto Garbage Slum. I have researched the slum quite a bit before I came to Kenya, so I thought I knew what to expect... I was wrong. Upon approaching the slum the smell became repugnant. Tons and tons of trash in heaps rotting away, I suppose I should have expected this. Trying to breath as little as possible as our matatu navigated the pathways through the dump I was shocked to see children who couldn't be a day over four sorting through the garbage. When we finally made it to the top of the hill we exited the car and were greeted by a man who would show us around. He first gave us some history on the slum. It has been in existence for nearly 17 years now meaning some of the kids there have never seen life out side of the slum. Rape is prominent, so there are tons of unwanted pregnancies, and approximately 40% of the population is HIV positive. Along with the smell there were flies everywhere and since it's beginning the rainy season we were covered in mud within minutes of exiting the matatu. Mud isn't generally a big deal, but imagine your 'house' is located on a hill of trash... as water rushes down the hill is sweeps mud and trash through your bedroom floor. Mind you the houses (10x10 huts) were also built from trash found at the dump; plastic siding, sheets of metal if you're lucky, and old towels. All held together with branches and junk, one could hardly call them sturdy. Since so many of the girls are getting pregnant so fast the majority of the homes accommodate four generations of family at a time. Digging through garbage for a living, cramming 8-9 people in a tiny damp hut... can you imagine the disease? However, as with the first two projects, there is some hope being made in the Gioto Garbage Slum. Volunteers have set up a school for some of the younger children (though is recently collapsed) and better yet have raised funds to send 15 of the older kids to boarding school. Currently they are working on gathering sponsors for the other children to help get them out of that place and into boarding schools where they eat three times a day and have a chance at a decent education.

A child collecting plastic bottles to sell for his families income.


The garbage dump, notice the houses in the background.

That was my weekend. It was absolutely incredible and horrible at the same time. I've seen things like this my whole life on the news and in National Geographic, but to be there smell it, see it, hear the children crying... it changed my life. Media makes things so easy to ignore and tune out. If it's ugly and not perfect you change the channel or pick up a gossip magazine instead. The experience was sobering in ways I can't explain. This weekend made me want to live. I may not be able to give all the money I'd like to these people but I can do my part by getting the word out there. I am not going to turn this into a guilt trip or beg for your money or donations. I will say, however, that if any of these causes strike you (like sponsoring a child) or you would like to find out more information please please get in touch with me. I can put you in contact with some really wonderful people.

One thing I will ask, and will harass you to do is to vote for the Gioto Garbage Slum here. They are in a competition of sorts for a $5,000 grant, and of last time I checked they were in first place. Please help us keep it that way. The money they would win would be able to send many more of the children to boarding school and with the feeding program among more. It only takes a couple minutes, and I was able to do it from a dinky internet cafe in Ngong, Kenya.

Just a couple photos

Kepha helping us sweep up the maize and beans after sorting them.

Abi and I washing dishes at Faraja.



The mart a couple houses down from the volunteer home.






It's damn near impossible to upload pictures here. I am genuinely shocked that this even worked (though my bill may be absurd for taking up extra bandwith), so here are a few for now. I'll post more if possible at a later time.

I've been in Kenya about half a week now and I'm having such a great time. I don't even know where to begin. Since I last posted I have gone through orientation (pretty boring, but I did get to eat meat for the first/only time) and arrived at my new placement. I am currently staying in Ngong. It's a town about twenty minutes outside of Nairobi. I've heard that it's the place where Out of Africa is set, but I'm not sure about the validity of that. The town is awesome, I've explored a small bit (enough to find out where to get ice cream and top up on my minutes) and today one of the other volunteers who has been here for a month already showed us a juice shop where I got some delicious passion mango fruit juice.

I am staying here with Abi (the English girl from the last post), Ben and Nikki (who've both been here for a month), and our host mom (Naomi, whom I haven't gotten to know much yet, but she seems quite nice). So far this place is wonderful.

This weekend I am going on an Outreach Weekend. Myself along with lots of other volunteers will meet at Junction at 7:15 on Friday and spend the weekend visiting three projects set up exclusively by other volunteers. The KCC slum in Naivasha first. Then we're going to Hells Gate to hike/bike. The next project we'll go to is the Vumilia IDP (Internally Displaced People) camp, I am really interested to go to this because it is a camp of people who were displaced by the political falling out of the 2008 election. For those of you who don't know I was supposed to visit Kenya in 2009, however opted out due to the issues caused by the election. And last, and most anticipated, the Gioto Garbage Slum .

I am really excited for all of this, but also ready to get back so I can get into a routine without moving around constantly.

Today I went to work for the first time, at a place called Faraja Children's Home. The home is ran by a woman named Moraa, who takes Kenyan hospitality to a whole new level. The house is so small and shelters Moraa plus the 35 orphans she calls her children. Kepha is a young genius at just one and a half who spend the day with Moraa while the rest of the 34 children go to school during the day. I've only spent one day here, but I really like it. I am excited to get to know the kids and help out and spend more time getting to know Moraa. Abi and I are hoping to find a way to take the kids out for a day of fun, hopefully to the Monkey Park in Nairobi.

The children's home is completely unfunded by any kind of organization. The only income the house has in the few chicken eggs that Moraa is able to scrounge up from the chickens (when she can feed them) and sell. Other then that she begs, and depends on donations. However the house is not big or well known like some of the other organizations here. Ben, one of the other volunteers I'm working/living with, is attempting to create awareness and get some sponsors for the home but from here it is a slow and tedious process. You can view his blog and his view of the Faraja home here.

I am happy to learn more about the house and the kids, and know I will have so much more to say about them.

This place is unreal. Waking up at 7am to goats bleeting outside my window, walking down the road and hearing kids screaming “Mzungu (white person), how are you?” over and over, the best produce I've ever tasted. Everything about Kenya, it's so different from the world I know. The people are so hospitable, always telling you “karibu” (you're welcome) to their house, their food, everything even when they can hardly afford to feed themselves. There hasn't been a time yet where I've felt uncomfortable here be it in someone's home or walking down Ngong road. And the food is incredible! I can't believe I'm eating it, but everything that has been placed in front of me I have been surprised to enjoy it so much. I could go on forever, but I need to make a run to Nakumatt to pick up some stuff and also make it to a Cyber to post this, so I should probably stop babbling.

Post again when I can.

Karibu Kenya!

First blog post from Kenya! I can't believe I am here. It's so wonderful, I am absolutely smitten with this place already. I arrived at JBO airport at 8:30pm last night and easily found my bags, got my visa, ect. Then I walked down to the arrivals gate where I was greeted by a sea of people holding signs with peoples names and cab companies. I found the person there to pick me up (sadly no sign with my name though). He was a Kenyan man named Benjamin. On the way to the car he asked me where I was from and I told him Texas. His reply was classic. “Oh!! Texas, just like Chick Norris” he said. After we loaded my bags into the car I stood waiting by the door to get in, Ben stood there as well staring at me odddly before saying “Umm... miss, you use other door.” Derp. Of course Africans drive on the right side of the car.


When I arrived at the volunteer house the power was out, this kind of freaked me out b/c I didn't think that kind of thing happened much in Nairobi, but all things considered it was okay since I went straigt to sleep. I was told there was only one other lady here, and that really worried me. Thankfully however I was woken up a couple hours later to the arrival of three more girls. We didn't talk (mostly because I was asleep) until this morning though.


At six o'clock I saw one of last night's arrivals in the bed next to mine, I could tell she was awake but neither of us knew quite what to say. Finally I got out of bed to look out my window and we struck up a conversation. My roommate (for now) is a Brazillian girl named Thais. She is very nice and has traveled a fair amount. She laughed at me when I said I did not know of Rio and explained “You know, beaches, hot girls, the samba” I think I know what she means now, and she's promised to teach me how to use Kilometers and Celsius temperatures later today since “American's just make it so difficult.” Soon we ventured off into the other bedroom to meet the other girls. Two Canadian's named Victoria (18 yrs) and Erica (17 yrs). There is also Kristian (sorry, if I butchered the spelling!) a nice lady who is from a little bit of everywhere, but mostly France and the US. Soon Wumbai (the host lady here) served us breakfast, toast with peanut butter (I thought of you Kaitlin!!) and some bananas. It was yummy. The food here seems to be utilized well, made to fill you up and give you some protein in a cheap manner.


After breakfast a few more girls arrived (Kristin, 25, California. And Abbey, 18, England). Then we walked to Nakumatt (think Kenyan Wal-mart) and got cell phones. The walk there was so nice, however it also confirmed that I am definitely not in America anymore, things here are so different. But so far I am loving every second of it.


On the way into our neighborhood the first kind of scary thing happened. As we were walking in I saw a man collapse in the street and start to seize and vomit. No one stopped to help him or even blink an eye. People just walked on by. Myself and a couple other girls looked to Mika (the lady to walked us to Nakumatt) in concern and she said to just keep walking. It disturbed me a bit, but realistically there isnt much I could/should do. Life here isn't perfect, but that is what makes it so beautiful. Being surrounded by so many different nationalities is awesome. I love sitting and listening to everyone talk. Thais pausing occasionally to try and remember the English word for something,Abbey's precious accent, and the occasional British infused “fuck!” is like music to my ears.


Anyway, orientation is supposed to be at 9am tomorrow, so hopefully then I'll have a more permanent place to stay. I can not wait for the next six weeks!

The internet connection is intensely slow here, I will upload a couple pics when possible, but to be honest I don't expect that to be anytime soon.