Motorcycle, matatu, feet, taxi, kanguru, feet, CRV, plane, feet, tube, train, train, bus, feet, home.

Well, that was fun.
Manon and I spent Sunday basking in glorious sunshine next to a frigid blue pool. Then we packed up and things got interesting. The lodge manager called a matatu to come take us to Nairobi. The matatu was on it's way.. then broke down. So a taxi took us to Gil Gil, 10 minutes away, where we got out and were promptly engulfed by 20 loud, obnoxious men, telling us to get in their kangurus (shuttles). We found one taking a direct route, and the guy behind Manon proceeded to tell her why she needed an a Kenyan boyfriend as well as the one she already has, while the guy behind me handed me his card and said, "Give me your e.mail address!!!" Kenyan men really know how to woo a woman, let me tell ya. They proceeded to talk EXTREMELY LOUDLY about the Al-Shabab goings-on in Nairobi, while the driver, who looked about 90 years old, proceeded to drive so slowly, it took us twice the time it should've to get to Nairobi. I wanted to nudge him just to make sure he wasn't asleep, which is strange, since the normal impulse I have towards Kenyan drivers is to beg them to please, please, please slow down before we all die.

We finally got to Nairobi and found the dear white faces of Lauren, who I interned with in 2008, and her hubby Daniel. They took us out for amazing Ethiopian food, and then to the airport. Just before boarding, the rest of our class showed up, accompanied by two Kenyan government officials. Long story short: they were in Nairobi, Texan guy in the class took a photo of something that wasn't supposed to be photographed, and an hour later they were all arrested and escorted to the prison on suspicion of terrorism. Somehow, they convinced the guards they were innocent students who had to catch a plane in an hour, so the officials came with just to make sure they were leaving the country. Good thing our professor wasn't around to witness that ordeal.

The flight home was turbulent, and all the modes of transportation after that felt cold, boring, and endless. Sheffield is grey and lonely, but I'm thankful for my own space, and not living out of a suitcase for the first time in over a month.

And now, because I can upload whatever I want to in mere minutes.... a video. And because everyone needs some baby laughter in their day.
Pictures to come.. love to you all.

Safari Kubwa..

Safari means journey in Swahili. Fun fact of the day. Big journey ahead for Manon and i..
Saturday morning we head to the transport hub of Kitale and board a shuttle (or 'kangaroo', aka minibus) to take us 6 hours south, to Lake Elementaita Lodge. It's posh and touristy, but our trip fees cover one night there, and we plan on making good use of both the pool and complimentary meals. Sunday we jump on a matatu and head the remaining 2 hours to Nairobi, strategically before it gets dark, but late enough so that we don't have to kill more than 7 hours in the airport. Trying to limit our time in Nairobi due to the conflicting terrorist reports, but it's a catch 22 when you're either spending 9 hours in the international airport, or 5 in the city itself after dark. Hopefully the dozen others from our class who've been holidaying in Mombasa show up and are also on the plane to London when the clock strikes 12. After that, 2 trains and a bus back to the north of England.. suffice to say Sheffield feels extremely far away right now.

Had a great stay out at the kids home last night, apart from a rooster crowing in our room (at least it sounded like it) at 2, 3, and 4am, respectively. We picked ticks off the dog, played wapi pesa ('where's the coin?' .. I have my Uncle Neil to thank for this game, which is a huge hit here), joto na biridi ('hot and cold'), painted nails, got our hair played with for about 3 hours, pulled stones and grass out of the beans for tomorrow's dinner, ate way too much chapati, potatoes, and cabbage, sang and danced before bed, waved everyone off to school this morning, and returned home to wash clothes that are all rusty red from the dry season's dust.

Off to bed. Prayers for traveling mercies over the next few days much appreciated. Love to you all! 

A funny thing happened while doing research...

Quite a few things, in fact. 

One of the main things that kept catching me off guard while hiking through the bush was tripping over bones in the sand. There would be a leg bone here, a jaw bone there.. clearly animal bones, but considering how hearty Pokot's goats and cows are compared to us white weaklings, that wasn't as comforting as I'd hoped..

In one of my first interviews, a dozen women of various ages surrounded me to answer questions. Kids were running all over, boobs were hanging out, plenty of horking was going on, but everyone was listening and answering.  5 minutes in, a very old grandma came out of a nearby hut, dressed in traditional Pokot clothing, with stretched out earlobes and huge beaded necklaces. She strolled over to me, we shook hands, and she proceeded to stand over me and shout something loudly in Pokot. The women looked at me awkwardly and laughed, and my translator buried her head in her hands. I asked her what the woman had said and she mumbled bashfully, "she is wondering if you're a boy or a girl." Nice. Thanks, grandma. 

In the same interview, a man wandered over and sat down with us. Our class had discussed the difficulties of interviewing tribes like the Pokot, where it's often unacceptable to speak with a woman without her husband present, and he can often dominate the interview or affect the way she answers. I started asking the women some detailed questions about what happens to their circumcision scars after giving birth. They chuckled and looked restlessly at each other, and gave a few harsh exclamations. To my surprise, my translator said, "they are refusing to answer this question with a man present, and are telling him to go away!" The man shyly picked up his stool and walked off, and the women happily proceeded to give me the gorey details. Out in the boonies, some issues are are more easily resolved than expected. Thank goodness for that.  

Aaaand some things are harder. I came across a household with a husband and his two wives. After speaking with the wives for 20 minutes, the husband took over, informing me that as soon as her husband leaves to go work in the fields, an uncircumcised woman will go find another man to sleep with, whereas a circumcised woman will stay faithful to her man. I couldn't help myself. "Okay, tell me how this works then," I said. "I have a boyfriend. He is in America. I am here in Kenya, far, FAR away from him. I am not circumcised, yet I am not looking for any other men here, nor do I have any desire to be with anyone but him. So maybe... it's possible?" My translator said all of this to him as he and his wives' eyes widened. Then he started laughing and said, "You need to give us some of this medicine you are taking!" We briefly discussed the idea of self-control vs. medicine before he grew bored and left. 

The focus of my studies the past 5 months has been on women's health issues, but the theme that keeps emerging is the huge role men play in every single one of those issues. Female circumcision is no exception. While the decision to circumcise is made by the mother or daughter herself and performed by women in the community, it is ultimately the man who chooses to marry only circumcised women, meaning uncircumcised women are shunned from the community -- no marriage means no children, no money, no land, no livelihood, no family, nothing to exist for. 

I have to add this photo of the coolest interviewees ever. A Mum and her daughter, who were hiking through the bush with their machetes.We sat under a tree and talked. The Mum was deaf, and the daughter had a unique lip-reading/signing system to communicate with her. The daughter was just 20 and married, with her own daughter, but was insistent that she would not be circumcised. When I asked her why not, she was the first interviewee to tell me, very firmly and decidedly, that she saw absolutely no benefit in circumcision. 

This was a critical point I'd wondered if I needed to communicate to them, but this young woman made it quite clear that she and her tribe are acknowledging those effects, and are ready to change ancient, inherited traditions for the sake of the following generation. 

Another funny thing about doing research in the bush is that you're drinking huge amounts of water, but there are no toilets. Nobody even has pit latrines because the Pokot believe a parent's and child's feces should never mix. Fair enough, but that means doing it in a bush, which leaves your back open to wild animals, or, more gravely, traumatizing some innocent young child wandering around collecting firewood. This concern became bigger and bigger as we walked through the most desolate stretches of land and still kept bumping into surprised groups of kids. Eventually it became easier to hold it than to try finding a semi-private bush somewhere. I think my next research project will be on the prevalence of urinary tract infections among researchers in remote areas.

An Hour Later...

...4 photos. Manon had a card reader that works with my card, wonder of wonders!

Zebras on the way to Pokot.

Tikeet. 

Doing interviews.

Goats in a riverbed. During the rainy season, all the

sand in this picture is covered with a running river.

The dry season does crazy things, and climate

change has made it even crazier.. 

Still Breathing.

Hello from Kitale, Kenya! The Sheffield/London/Nairobi/Pokot trip went reasonably well. The Christmastime family cold I thought I'd avoided hit en route to Kenya, and I was in the throes of sneezing and drizzling everywhere the one day we stayed at a nice, sunny hotel with a pool. Nothing like having a cold in a really hot place. We reached the Marich Pass field centre in Pokot and after the first nights' sleep, I had over 100 bug bites on me. Very itchy ones. It was literally like having the chicken pox, and I'm still not quite convinced it wasn't pox, except that I've had them before. Fairly certain it wasn't mosquitoes, since no one else had more than 1 or 2 bites the whole time, we had mozzie nets, and I'd be in the thick of malaria at this point if it was. Which leaves bedbugs or fleas as options, neither of which are pleasant to think about for too long. Suffice to say, I'm recovering, and thankful Dad sent me with a large tube of hydrocortizone, which is nearly gone..

Doing research was amazing. Doing research in a place called Tikeet was doubly amazing. I wish I could put photos up from here. I got to walk around all day, with a translator, in 110 degree heat, over white sand and red rocks, cactus and bushes, from little mud hut to little mud hut, and sit and talk to unfathomably strong, resilient, rural African women about their lives. My project was focusing on the connection between female circumcision and education/medical knowledge. It was a touchy topic, but I never got turned down, and actually had multiple women present for most of the interviews. The last day I spoke with a group of male elders from the community, which was equally interesting. Probably most challenging/exciting was driving an hour from the field centre (already in the boonies) to the even more remote Tikeet each morning, having the driver drop us off on the edge of a sandy road, and trekking into the bush with no houses or people anywhere in sight, feeling like we might be in the middle of the Sahara. Past researchers have seen leopards, lions, and elephants in Tikeet, which was naturally on the forefront of my mind the whole time me and my little 18-year old translator were walking. (Thankfully the only wildlife spotted were 2 snakes and a very large lizard.) All of a sudden a hut would pop up in the distance, and if anyone was home, we'd do an interview in the shade of a tree or bush. Some houses were empty and many only had toddlers running around them, as the adults were out with their goats or finding food. The sun was so strong, and there were never any clouds. On the last day, I realized a mental timer started ticking in my head whenever we started walking, because I could feel I only had so much water and time before my feeble white girl self would end up as a pile of bleached out ribs in the sand. It was impossible to carry around the amount of water you'd actually need to stay hydrated all day, meaning the first 10 minutes back at the field centre were always spent chugging litres of it. It was strangely fascinating dealing with such intense elements; it almost feels like you're doing some twisted research project on yourself. But most fascinating was interacting with a tribe who somehow live their whole lives in nothing but those elements.

It was also great working with a group of students all focused on different elements of development -- health, environment, and social issues. We were able to learn from each other and see how so many different issues intertwine.

After a week in the same clothes, sharing a toilet with 37 others, and cold outdoor showers with monkeys watching you, it is so good to be back in familiar, slightly cooler Kitale. Manon and I will be here for a week, visiting new and ongoing projects that TI's been doing. Thanks for your prayers and e.mails. Miss you all!

Hi/Bye.

Happy New Year! And what a crap job of blogging I've been doing lately. My excuse.. the past 3 weeks I turned in 3 final projects, Ben came, we explored all over the place while working on papers and returning to Sheffield for my last few classes, then spent a very brief 8 days at home with family for Christmas/New Years, which was amazing and wonderful and now seems like a very distant memory. In the last 24 hours, I've gone from Bellingham to Seattle to Reykjavic to Manchester to Sheffield, and in the next 24 hours I'll be going from Sheffield to London to Nairobi, then up to West Pokot, Kenya for a week of field work. The following week I'll be visiting old friends and dear kids in Kitale with my classmate, Manon. 

A few highlights of the last few weeks:

 

Big, beautiful castles in Edinburgh.

                                                                 Big Ben x2 in London.

 

Hitting the beaches in Brighton. 

(The fish and chips have clearly not been too kind on my figure.)

Beautiful family and food. 

To say the last few days have been a whirlwind is a massive understatement. My brain has decided it's had enough of all these different time zones and is just going to be awake 24/7, and my heart is heavy being away from  people I love. I'm thrilled for Kenya, but simultaneously exhausted and overwhelmed with all that the next few days/weeks/months entail. Prayers for peace and safety would be much appreciated. Also, prayers for no malaria. The preventative meds I usually take for it have started making my skin hyper-photosensitive (a nightmare in African sun), so I'm going to stick with nets and repellent and hope for the best. 

Much love to you all.. more from Kenya!