I am unearthed, and no longer scared

I have returned from my adventure in the wilderness of Nebraska!! It was, in a word, AMAZING. Highlights include:

1. I killed a rattlesnake. It was in camp and we think someone had accidentally run over its tail end, so it couldn't slither away or rattle. Another girl at the camp almost stepped on it, and she is 8 months pregnant. In other words - it had to be put down. As a trophy I gutted it and kept it to skin. Terrifying? Yeah, but its really kind of awesome.
2. I led the backfilling of the archaeological site brigade. Each year the units are covered up to prevent erosion from occurring, and I happen to be a whiz with a shovel. My nickname at camp? The human backhoe. Ok, I really don't like that nickname I'll admit, but I totally got the job done.
3. A boy I met from last year, Jeff, and I found some new animal trackways. About 36 million years ago giant mammals roamed the area and left their imprints in the sandstone. These were preserved, and the area is famous for its animal trackways. So on a hike together, Jeff and I found two sets of new animal trackways from 36 million years ago that had never been found. We are going to be in 2 publications for a paleontological symposium in the spring!! Talk about boosting the CV....
4. Seeing Seancy. He came up to Keystone I'm sure just to see ME, and we had a good time. Especially this crazy guy we met outside a bar in Breck. The kid apparently had WAY too much to drink, and when we asked where a food place was, he responded "i don't speak english any more". It was hilarious.
5. ILANA!!! I had a LOVELY time with Miss Ilana Grace!! It was amazing. I also hung out with Pun'kin which is pretty awesome!!!!

I also went hiking almost everyday and just had a glorious time being outside. The campsite lost water at the end, which was a pain, but I dealt.

Speaking of water - the geologist/paleontologist at the site was telling me something that just made me SO angry. There is a uranium company that drills in the area. Old science has said that the uranium they are drilling for is safely tucked between two impermeable rock faces. Unfortunately, apparently the uranium has gotten loose, and made its way into a water supply. The water feeds directly into a nearby Sioux reservation. A nurse at a local hospital noticed a large number of Sioux people coming in with uranium poisoning. She took notes on this, and kept the data in her home. After a lawsuit was filed, her home mysteriously burned down with all of the data in it. The geologist/paleontologist at the site has been asked to testify, as he and his wife have the most up to date information on the rock formations there. His data proves that the uranium is indeed in the water supply, and it is a direct cause of the uranium drilling. As if this isn't terrible enough, it is essentially career suicide. The college he works with in Chadron said that if he testifies, he will pretty much be fired. The overall outlook of many (*not all) of the people in this area is that it doesn't matter, its just a bunch of natives that are getting hurt by the uranium.

Hearing this made me almost vomit. I couldn't believe it. I was so disgusted by the whole viewpoint and everything I had to go for a walk after talking to him. Are there still Americans that are HONESTLY that racist? They are people too, and I can't BELIEVE that whole situation. Haven't we done enough to the Native Americans??? If you do NOT agree with me on this point, don't post anything until you've read "Bury my Heart at Wounded Knee" by Dee Brown. Then we'll talk. The whole thing just made me realize that even if I NEVER return to Kenya or anything, there is enough that needs to be done right here in my own country that I'll be busy until the day that I die.

Anyways. Soap box is out of here.

On another revolutionary-type note...AIESEC US. Wow. I honestly don't know what to say about the whole thing (non-AIESECers - sorry). I am so unbelievably proud of my fellow AIESECers that risked everything to try to change something they believed in. I am on one hand jealous of the change agents they are and on the other hand, super happy I am no longer an LCP. Definitely some mixed emotions. No matter what, good job to all of you.

What now?

Sooo after about 2 weeks hanging out with my parents (as AWESOME as its been) I am going to leave this upcoming week for...Nebraska!! Ok. Not as exciting as Kenya, but I am actually super psyched to go back to the 10,000 year old bison bone kill site of Hudson-Meng - located near Crawford, NE! It was the archaeological site I went to last summer, and I want to go back for like a month or so and just camp and dig and hike and have an awesome time. Sweet!

After that? Definitely moving BACK in with the parents...which is going to be all right. Need to get a job and make some money, plan to spend a couple months in Europe with Nadya (the sister) who will be moving to Florence at the end of August and with the way the dollar is going that will be EXPENSIVE. Also - I need to take the damn GRE. I was in such a rush to graduate early and get the hell out of college I opted not to take the GRE while my mind was still in school mode. Bad move. So, back to the books. Oh, standardized tests. Then? Applying to grad schools...for a masters in public health. In conjunction with Peace Corps (the program is called the Masters International program - combining Peace Corps with my graduate studies). We'll see how it goes. Plan to go to school from August of '09 - August of '10, and then 2 years in the field (hopefully somewhere back in East Africa) and then come back to defend my thesis.

On a side note, volunteering on this dig and then going back to grad school and then volunteering for ANOTHER 2 years is not really getting me any closer to getting a "real job". I keep telling my parents that I'm busy building my CV. They keep telling me they can't wait to see my 94-page resume. And then I counter with "Well, when I'm 47 and ready to get a REAL job, I will get an AWESOME one because of my sweet resume!" Its a little game we like to play.

What are the odds, that I have missed your smile

I've been back in Colorado for about a week now, and it finally hit me that I am actually home from what I was referring to as "Dunia's Big Adventure" in my head. Shit.

After everything that happened, after all the bad stuff that occurred - I really really miss being in Kenya. I've been searching my brain, trying to figure out exactly why, what I miss so much. The food? Not a chance. The transportation? Ha. No. Work? Yeah, in a way I really do miss it. But most of all its the people. And I loved the people I worked with, they inspired me and challenged me and some of my clients even pissed me off. But mostly, I miss my fellow trainees. The people that knew what I was going through, that faced mostly the same challenges. When I vented my frustrations at them they wouldn't be like "oh yeah I understand..." but they would counter with their OWN stories. Stories that I could commiserate with, as well as stories that made me laugh (ESPECIALLY if they came from Florent).

I love all of my fellow interns in Kenya - the YES house plus Pascale. Even with all the bickering and the competitions over who could talk louder (you two know who you are). It was like being around family, I was completely comfortable and I don't know how to properly thank each and every one of you for being in my life. But I think without one individual in particular I wouldn't have been able to come out of the experience nearly as emotionally and physically healthy as I am right now. I don't do regrets, but if this person hadn't been there for me - sharing his mother, giving me his shoulder to cry on, taking complete care of me when I needed, even sharing his room - I don't think I would have been able to appreciate the great things that happened in Kenya. Because of him, I can take the bad with the good and look back on the experience in a positive light. And the relationship that was created out of all of that is one that I will never stop being...well...grateful for. I really don't know if I can put into words how much he means to me.

Sean - this ones for you.

And the wind's that blow remind me...

...of what has been, and what can never be.

I am coming home. June 10th....almost 7 months early.

For those of you who know why, you were right and I should have come home immediately. For those that don't? Just understand that I wouldn't have ended this experience for anything that wasn't unbelievably serious.

But I still have 10 days...so let me tell you about Enoch. Enoch is a 13 year old who lives in Korogocho. He is the little kid who rapped for me my first day into the slums. Since then we have become fairly good friends. Yesterday I tramped around for a good half an hour looking for him through the informal settlement until I found his mother. She invited me into her home and we talked...and I remember why I came. His father was murdered, his mother makes almost no money selling beads in the slums, and he takes care of his 3 younger siblings - and the kid still always has a smile for me. He and his friend found me yesterday to sing for me. I visited another 4 or so bedridden clients that all had smiles for me, that all were going to talk about my visit for days after I left.

Thats why I came to Kenya in the first place.

On a side note - I am fairly upset at leaving at this crucial time in my medical career. The clinic has decided to train me to be the new doctor (this is soooo illegal) so now I get to wear a lab coat and diagnose people (the doctor is always sitting there in case I mess up but still). They call me Dr. Muzungu. Its awesome.

"How do you like Kenya so far?"

I get this question constantly. That or:
"How do you find my country"
"What do you think of Kenya"
"Are you having a good time here"

Well people, here's your answer.

Step 1: I'm still alive. Important.

I've been cheated, mugged, robbed, harassed, cornered, ogled, stalked and almost kidnapped. I've had to fight for everything - from fair matatu fares to reasonable street food prices. I've been touched by men, women and children that I did not know merely because of my skin color. I've argued tirelessly, defending my culture and my way of life because of the ignorance I've encountered. I've ignored countless come ons, insults, careless comments, invasions of personal space and obviously rude treatment.

I came with such an optimism, truly believing that I could make a difference. And I have realized that the people here do not even care enough for one another to help. The vast majority of Kenyan's themselves are not doing anything. What, honestly, am I doing here?

And yet, I stay. I stay for the people I work with - the few who do not look at this as just a job, a meal ticket. Those to which I am bound with that same blinding optimism that we can do something and are doing something. I stay for the people who truly appreciate the tiny amount that I have been able to do. I stay, in part, to prove Seancy wrong - that a single person can change the world. Only a fraction, only a tiny bit - but its still impact. In a lot of ways, I stay out of sheer stubbornness (those that know me know this is true). I've seen some of the most beautiful things, and made friendships that I know are never going to end. I've met people that inspire me to be a better person.

And that, is the answer to your question.

Mama said there'd be days like this

It's been quite the weekend. After a crrrrazy party Friday night at the YES house (thanks Shanky/Charlotte/Florent), I was on my way back into town when my camera got stolen out of my bag on a matatu. It blows, yeah. I liked that camera, I waited for years to finally get a digital camera, etc. but what i am MORE upset about is the fact that I lost all of those pictures. A lot of them were on my computer but a lot were not, and I can't get those back. Ever. A man stopped me and said "I think that man took something from you, I saw him". I talked to the mat conductor, asking where the man had gone. A crowd of like 20 men surrounded me, yelling what had happened, saying they should get him. Then they turned on the man who had warned me about it, yelling at him for not stopping the man. It was kind of scary. Either way, its gone. Sorry YES kids, all the pics from your first (and possibly only) party are lost. To top it off, he will sell it for 20 dollars, some idiot will buy it, use it, and after a week, will throw it away because the battery is one that you plug in. And I still have the plug.



After a rough night last night (check my facebook profile I guess), I woke up and took a shower. As I was getting out, the mother of the girl I am living with said she wished she could wash her hair and not have to get it blow dried. She then proceeded to say this: "I just don't understand why God favored you. He gave you the right hair, the right color, all the money...It's not fair!!" After I tried to reason with her, saying something like our hair is just different not better, she got angry and stomped off. Awesome.

The worst part about the past few days is the baby I wrote about in my last blog, the 6-month-old infant who weighed almost nothing, died on Saturday. The child that I held and fed and played with is no longer alive. Completely innocent...it just really depressed me when I heard this morning.

Cause life is short but sweet for certain

Two Friday's ago I went to Murang'a, a small town located about an hour and a half outside of Nairobi. KENWA has a home there for children who have been orphaned due to HIV/AIDS. There are about 36 children which is an incredible small number considering how many exist and need help, but still. After a ridiculously round-a-bout start including backtracking at least 3 times just to get away from the Pangani clinic (Shanky knows this type of backtracking/circling/forgetting things and having to go back and leaving late...its a pain), we are on our way. We get about an hour outside of town and then head off in the opposite direction to pick up some children we are going to bring to the orphanage. So now there are 5 adults, 4 children, an infant, 6 mattresses and 10 blankets shoved into this van. It was...interesting.

We head out to the orphanage and realize we forgot a kid. So we turn back to pick him up.

About another hour or so later, we get to Murang'a. The drive was unbelievable...We were near Mt. Kenya and could just see it off in the distance. Getting out of the van was a process that involved a lot of crawling around the mattresses but we managed. The orphanage itself was incredible, there were children running around everywhere. Many are HIV+ but you really couldn't tell - they were just like the kids that I babysit at home. Screaming, singing, laughing. We got the newbies set up and tried to introduce them to the others but they were nervous (as expected). I then found the infant room. There were 4 babies, one which we had brought with us. The one we had brought, a baby boy, was HIV+ and had been abandoned by his mother. He was 6 months old and weighed about 10 pounds...his skin hung off of him in folds and his head was gigantic while his body was tiny -I could see all of his ribs, and his fore arm was about the size of my thumb. I didn't just stare at him, it wasn't like I was removed from the situation. I held him, fed him, made faces at him, everything. It almost physically made me sick at how small and malnourished he was, and I really wanted to just take him home (not sure how people would react to that type of "souvenier"). The baby he was sharing a bed with, another little boy, was 2 months old and weighed less than 6 pounds. One thing that gave me hope, however, was that there were children running around that had come to the orphanage in the same condition. It made me realize how much good was being done.

I also went to a new informal settlement, Kiambiu (not to be confused with Kiambu, which is where a park called Paradise Lost is, and is where Shanky, his landlord and I scampered around a waterfall). It was in this clinic in this slum that I did my own counselling. We visited 2 clients, a man and a woman. The man had just been diagnosed with TB and I told him the importance of hygiene/nutrition/walking/emotional health. The woman I talked to for almost an hour. After reminding her to take her pills and eat well, we just sat and chatted in her home (it was exactly like all the slum homes I have described before). Her optimism and excitement at still being alive after being diagnosed with TB 2 months ago was incredible. Her son also died around the time she was diagnosed in an accident, but she still had a smile on her face and teased me about finding a Kenyan man for me to marry. It humanized her in a way, and made me realize that even though I have given these HIV statistics names, faces, personalities I was still looking at them as just that: sick people. It was a refreshing day in the slums, and has helped me remain optimistic about my work since then.

In a side note - there is a saying here, a myth of sorts I guess that when it is sunny out and its raining at the same time, it means there is a hyena marriage somewhere. Kind of cool. I traded that story for a story about leprechauns and rainbows, which no one had ever heard before.