More Street Food

The street food extravaganza has not ended, even though I haven't posted any pictures of our adventures on here in soooo long.  We are over halfway through the book now.  In fact there's only 56 recipes to go.  I had to make a trip to Jungle Jim's in Cincinnati to get a lot of the ingredients.  So now my cabinets are stocked with lots of food, and I feel like I have to hurry up and cook.  I think I got a little overboard and crazy this week because we made at least 5 recipes in the last 3 days.  Unfortantely,  some of these last ones have been a little blah...probably partially because of how I made them.  I try, but after all I'm still a bit of a clueless American trying to cook all these international dishes.

This was pretty good.  It's a Middle Eastern dish with spinach, pinenuts, sumac (super hard to find here!), onions, and olive oil.  It's supposed to be baked or fried into a flaky pastry.  My roommate informed me after we got home from the grocery store that we probably should have gotten wonton wrappers instead of these silly crescent rolls that are clearly not even close to what should really be used.  But at least it tasted good!

Morroccan avacado drink...I thought it was not too bad.  My roommate said, "No one should ever eat an avacado like that."

Week 1 is done

In case you haven't checked, please refer to our other blog: www.grainofriceproject.blogspot.com .  Ashley and I are posted more details there about how things are going with our business venture.  We have finished four days of actual working time with our group.  Things seem to be going pretty well.  People are arriving only about 30 minutes late (a huge miracle), and we've gotten pretty much accomplished I think. We have a lot of half started projects because it's easier for Tall to cut out lots of patterns of purses at one time and then do all the sewing at once.  The cutting part is something Ashley and I are actually able to help with.  We weren't sure at first what our part would be.  I cut a bit of leather today for the bracelets, but mostly we are professional paper bead rollers now.  It's tedious work but it needs to be done.  It's a little bit crazy to me that it can literally take an entire day to make a decent amount of beads before you are actually able to string them into a bracelet and in turn they are only selling their paper bead necklaces for 100-150 shillings or $1.50-$2.00.  We are trying to pay people for their labor and for what they make.  We actually paid them a bit more than what they asked with the hope that we can sell things for more in the U.S.  We have learned a lot more about everyone in the group each day.  Both women from Kibera are struggling to send their kids to school and pay for food to eat, so having the opportunity to work is a help to them.  Yesterday they told us how happy they were that we read the Bible together every morning and that we love Jesus.  They are encouraged to see the Bible out when they come in the house.  Emily said that if she forgets to pray at night her kids wake her up and insist that they must pray before sleeping.

Yesterday I went with Edwin in the afternoon to pick up his great uncle from the airport.  When we arrived there was a huge group of people standing in one of the parking lots.  When we pulled in we learned it was a group that had come to welcome back Prophet  , who had been in Columbia preaching.  Edwin tells me that this man is all about preaching repentance and turning to God.  He prophesied about the earthquake in Haiti before it happened and about the recent aviation disasters (Ghana, Nigeria, etc.) that have been happening.  People had come from Nakuru (many hours away) to greet him.  They were all dressed up in suits and dresses.  I saw a few peopl wearing shirts that said, "Pastor prayed for me, and now I am HIV negative."  What really moved me though was the way people were singing and worshipping God, not the prophet, right there in the airport parking lot.  Everyone was so joyful and seemed so drawn into God's presense that I started crying.  It's hard to explain but it was just a moving experience being there in the car watching. 

Last night we went out to watch the Portugal/Czech Republic          soccer match.  We found a nice place in Karen to watch it live.  This is us above: Ashley, Tall, Edwin, and me

Me rolling the beads

Ash and I dipping the beads in varnish to seal them

Wednesday, Pamela (one of the women) went to varnish the beads and hung them on the clothesline outside the house.  They dripped all over two shirts on the clothesline of the 2nd story of our building...oops!  We felt really bad and I tried washing the shirt out to fix it.  We even went knocking on their doors offering them shillings to replace the clothing, but no one answered.  We decided today to find a new location to hang them.

We Are Here

Yes, we have arrived.  Thanks for your prayers.  We are doing well, and have had lots of typical Kenyan days so far.  Edwin picked me up at the airport on Thursday night.  On our drive home someone had a flat tire and was changing it on the side of the road.  It was about 11:30 p.m., which is an extremely dangerous time to break down.  Edwin seemed pretty worried for the man and kept saying, "I hope he's going to be all right."  The road we were on was the road to the airport...so there's a decent amount of cars passing by that time of the night, but it can still be common for thugs to be hiding in the trees and jump out and attack people.  So I suggested that perhaps we should go back and help the man.  After all there is safety in numbers, and it seemed like the Jesus thing to do.  So we turned around and drove up behind him with our blinkers on.  Edwin was planning to just stay in the car and keep the lights on so that the man could see better while he was fixing the tire.  But he was really struggling and didn't seem to know exactly what to do.  So Edwin got out to help him.  And right before that he reached under his seat and said, "Here, take this in case something happens."  He proceeds to hand me a panga...or in English, a large machete.  So there I am sitting in the car, with the doors locked holding a weapon, standing guard.  Of course I looked ridiculous, and I couldn't help but laugh, until a serious thought came over me--what would I actually do if someone came?  I can't imagine that I'd really start whacking someone with a machete!  No worries though.  Edwin changed the tire in a snap, and we were on our way.

Yesterday we picked up Ashley from the airport and met up with Tall.  Where we're staying we have some modern anemities that I'm not used to in Kenya.  There is a fridge, freezer, t.v., couches, and a real mattress for Ash and I to sleep on.  The space is small and simple, but clean and safe--big blessing.  I noticed today that there's a small slum behind the apartment building where we are.  It's small unlike Kibera, and you might actually be able to take a car through it.  Clearly there's never been too many white people in this part of othe city, so the kids all seem a bit suprised to see us.

We spent the morning grocery shopping, cooking pancakes, and discussing what exactly we're going to be doing while we're here.  I guess I haven't really filled a lot of you in on this.  The plan is to work alongside some people we know here in helping create employment opportunities.  These people already have a skill set (craftmaking), but they don't really have a way to market what they make.  So we're hoping to find a way.  Neither Ashley or I are business people...we're people persons, we like Kenya, and we are willing to walk around the slums.  Interesting skill set.  So after talking with Tall, it became clear that we really needed to make a trip to Kibera to talk with the women about our plans.  Honestly, we weren't even sure who was definitely in with working with us.  We've tried to coordinate this all from the U.S. before coming.  But really, can you truly plan out much in Kenya?  So we ventured off to Kibera to figure things out.  Edwin is recovering from malaria, typhoid, and parasites (diseases seem to come in bunches here), and thus was not feeling that well.  So he stayed home to rest. 

We had our first matatu ride of the day.  Pretty standard--lots of bumpy roads, hitting our heads frequently, traffic, etc.  We walked forever far to get where we needed to be in Kibera.  Tall isn't from there, and we learned later that he wasn't aware of a shorter route.  I wouldn't expect him to be either...I mean I'm impressed he can manuever us around there at all.  I'm pleased to say that I didn't feel alarmed really at being there.  There were the standard kids yelling out, "How are you? How are you?"  in their sing-song chanting voices.  At one point I decided to joke around by dramatically saying, "Ni me choka," meaning, "I'm tired."  (which I was after all the jet lag).  This boy started cracking up laughing at my response.  They're not used to hearing mzungus say full sentence swahili responses.

Eventually we arrived at Pamela's house.  She had a whole table full of things she's already been making for us: bags woven from plastic bags, beaded necklaces, and more.  Obviously she's been very busy.  Emily came too.  Both of these women are people we met last summer when we met with a group of women in Kibera.  They were both happy to see us, and Ashley too, since they haven't seen her since last July.  They gave us big smiles and hugs.  We sat down to chat with Tall translating.  It's always a bit awkward at first because I never quite know what we're going to say or how people feel about having some white girls march into their houses.  But it went really well.  We basically decided that we will be meeting up every day at Edwin's.  We would rather meet in Kibera but don't feel like it's a safe place for Ash and I to be hanging out in every day.  Emily was the first to agree that it wasn't a good idea for us because people would start noticing our continual presense and then you never know what might happens.  We will be paying for their transportation costs of coming and paying a small fee for just showing up for the day.  And then we'll pay them for the labor of each item that they make.  Tall and Ash decided we need to be very strict about only paying people the daily fee if they arrive on time, otherwise they probably won't.  Emily was the first person to be very excited.  She started smiling and saying that she didn't care if she had to travel each day.  She just really wanted to work.  Pamela seemed a little reluctant to have to leave Kibera so often, but eventually she agreed.  She might not come everyday, but she'll be able to committ to several days a week.  They decided together that they would prefer to be payed every 2 weeks so that they have a larger sum of money to work with to pay for food and other expenses.  Please pray with us as we start this.  There is so much to consider and we don't really know what we're doing yet.  But we pray that God would give us direction and bless this venture.

We are considering the idea of adding up to 2 more people to our group, but we're going to see how things go the first 2 weeks.  I know 3 people doesn't seem like much.  But I know that if this works out, it will be a great blessing for these 3 people that struggle to make ends meet.  Besides, we aren't really sure if we can fit anymore people in Edwin's house.  The living room is small and is going to be very cramped with so many people.  We considered renting another space to work, but that can be complicated with landlords, and leases and city council members wanting you to pay money for having a business.  We are hoping to work really hard the next 2 weeks and get lots of things made so that Tall came take them to a Masai market in July and try to sell stuff.  Tall brought us all kinds of samples of wallets and clutches that he has been making.  He has really good ideas because they are unlike anything else I've seen here.  The plan is to go shopping for materials that we need on Monday and then start working on Tuesday. 

We got to finish out the Kibera afternoon by visiting Popo and Rodgers.  They were having dance practice with their dance team Vina.  We had lots of fun joining in with them.

Today we went to church at Karen Vineyard.  It's a very multicultural church with a mix of mzungus (mostly Europeans, although the guy speaking today was a New Zealander) and Kenyans.  I like this church a lot because it's familiar to the way church is at home.  Sometimes I wonder though if I'm missing out a bit on the Kenyan culture because there isn't much dancing and clapping and the volume level of a typical Kenyan church.  I can still hear a church service going on somewhere in the neighboorhood from inside this cyber cafe where I am typing.  The keys stick on this computer, and it takes several seconds for the computer to respond when you try to type several words at once or backspace, but at least the power is on.  We were trying to get the modem ready to have the internet at our house.  But it's Sunday and where we stay there are very few shops selling Orange (the internet company) minutes to top up (add minutes) to the modem.  Actualy they have Orange minutes but they don't have them in as large amounts as we need for the internet to work because we want to pay for a whole month.  Most people can't afford this service, so it's not a widely sold thing where we live. 

More International Food and Farewells

In case you thought we gave up on the international cooking, we didn't.  It's only that I'm quite terrible about keeping up with blogging.  The dish above is Pav Bhaji, which is an Indian dish.  I'm a big fan, except that my roommate and I decided upon making it a second time that we had to get rid of the cauliflower and substitute it with potatoes.  I'll eat just about anything, but cooked cauliflower isn't something that tops my list of favorite foods.  We finally made a trip to this huge international grocery store in Cincinnati and were able to get some spices needed for all these international recipes.  Who knew there could be so many differrent types of masalas?  Unfortunately, not thinking, I decided to try a huge spoonful of the garam masala on some rice I'd made.  Can we say spicy???  Makes sense, seeing as one of the ingredients is mace.  Of course you foodies out there probably know all about masalas, but I'm a newbie...so let's just say I was instantly running for a glass of water after taking a bite.

 We decided to have an international food potluck just for an excuse to cook some more.  We had all sorts of African, Indian, and European dishes.  Check out our feast:

 And I never posted pictures of us going to the World Culture Festival at the university here.  Don't you love our authentic Kenyan garb?

And speaking of Kenya, I am traveling there this week.  I haven't decided exactly how I'm going to be blogging...perhaps sometimes on this blog and definitely on the other one: www.grainofriceproject.blogspot.com
Keep us and our friends there in prayer: for safety, health, and purpose.  Farewell until I reach Kenya.  Kwaheri!

Chesterton Market

Today was the first week setting up at the Chesterton European Market to sell some of our goods from Kenya.  This was a trial run for me because I wasn't sure how things would go.  I was very fortunate to have Kim's help today, which was very necessary for moving the heavy tables and all the many items out of my car.  God blessed us with a great day.  I met a lot of people and felt really passionate getting to share stories of Kenya with them.  Ashley and I are working on trying to do more to promote Tall and the women of Kibera in selling their handmade goods.  Today was a step in that direction.  We are calling this endeavor the Grain of Rice Project.  We've started another blog site to specifically focus on this project.  You can check it out at www.grainofriceproject.blogspot.com 

The Best Yet

Yesterday Aquila prepared this amazing Moraccan dish.  I had already went out for dinner but I snuck a few spoonfuls of it when I got home because it looked so good.  I didn't look at the recipe, so I'm not entirely sure what's in it besides chickpeas and tumeric.  I had it for lunch and dinner because it has been my favorite dish from the recipe book thus far.
By the way, I lied about the ginger beer...I said it was ok, but that's entirely not true.  The more I tried it the worse it became.  I think our friend Regina described it best when she said it tasted like Pine Sol.  That is a precisely correct comparison.  I managed to drink an entire glass somehow.  The rest is still in the fridge.  Aquila only made it through a few sips.  We thought about tricking our friends into thinking it was great, but that seems too mean.  It reminds me a lot of this soda in Kenya called Stoney, which is a little like ginger ale to the extreme.

The Recipes Continue

Don't worry--we haven't given up on cooking the street food.  It's only that I can't keep up with blogging.  I actually forgot to photograph the last 2 dishes I made.  Perhaps I purposefully forgot during my kashata disaster.  Kashata is a dessert with coconut, peanuts, and sugar, which are then rolled into balls.  I remember seeing it frequently sold in Kibera, always sitting in plastic containers with blue lids.  I'm fairly certain that it was typically rolled in sesame seeds too (although my recipe didn't call for any).  I don't know why, but I never actually tried kashata in Kenya, which is unfortunate seeing as mine didn't turn out at all. The recipe tells you to cook the sugar and then add the other ingredients.  And then magically the whole mixture is supposed to become sticky and roll into a ball.  Perhaps my phone ringing in the middle of my attempt threw the whole thing off.  Let's just say that mine looked merely like crumbs.  My friends decided to buy ice cream and use it as sprinkles on top...a very nice Valentine treat indeed, although not very African.  At least it got eaten.  We hate wasting food in my house (something about seeing people in Kenyan who often didn't have anything to eat will do that to a person), and so we get creative about finding ways to finish eating whatever we fix.

The next dish I made was a lentil stew from Ethiopia.  This one actually turned out nicely.  Basically it was jut lentils with nutmeg, garlic, and some other spices.  It was a basic dish, nothing fancy about it, but good just the same.  There were no disasters in my attempt.

Last night Aquila and I attempted making ginger beer, which is not alcoholic at all but very potent indeed.  We had to grate 1/2 cup of ginger, which by the way is soooo much, in case you've never grated ginger before.  Our hands were hurting by the end.  Then we poured hot water over the ginger and let it sit all night before adding sugar, lemon juice, and cloves this morning.  We had to dilute the mixture with more water and more sugar because the ginger taste was over powering.  The drink isn't exactly bad but it's so strong.  I told Aquila we won't be fixing this for any get togethers!  i only had a few sips, and now it's sitting in the fridge until I can handle a few more sips. 

I am feeling really blessed to be able to try so many new foods.  We have created our own little international kitchen, right here in the Midwest.  Hope you all are having a blessed week.  Enjoy the sunshine that God has given us today.

Ministry in Chicago and Crafting with Friends

Yesterday was a relaxing afternoon of making some Valentine's crafts.  My friends and I are obsessed with Pinterest (what girl isn't?), so most of our inspiration came from that site.  My basement became filled with lots of people and lots of paper hearts.

On Saturday I went with some friends to help with a homeless ministry in Chicago.  Basically a group of people, mostly college students get together every Saturday evening to walk the streets of downtown Chicago.  They bring sandwiches to people living on the streets.  Once we arrived we split into small groups.  Micah, Kelsey, and I walked along State Street.  There was another group passing out food in a nearby location, so we didn't meet that many people, although we did find a few.  Micah had the idea of bringing hot chocolate along to offer to people since it was so cold.  So there we were...three people and three thermoses full of hot chocolate.  We got a lot of stares from other shoppers who were wondering just why we were walking along with thermoses (that were very 70's looking by the way).  The first guy we met seemed like he was okay with talking to us at first.  After we introduced ourselves he asked us about our jobs and lives.  We gave him hot chocolate and then Micah asked if he'd like us to pray with him.  Now I must say we were never very pushy about praying with people.  The idea was to be kind and get to know these people week after week to eventually build up a relationship with them.  Micah has already done this with several people.  Unfortunately the man was really not happy when Micah started asking about prayer.  He kept saying, "I pray with my life."  And he got really angry even though none of us was arguing about anything.  Then he told us it was the worst hot chocolate he'd ever tasted and threw it all over the sidewalk.  I wasn't offended by this.  After all, I'm sure this man has been through a lot, and I'd probably be very bitter about living on the streets.  But I feel sad that we probably made his day worse. 

Our other encounters with people were much more positive.  People were pretty friendly and happy to speak with us.  One man smiled a lot and was extremely positive.  He was a great encouragement to me and reminded me about having a positive attitude no matter what we're going through.  He said that it wasn't really that cold out compared to what it could be. 

I, on the other hand, thought it was extremely cold.  My hands started getting cold in the first 30 minutes of walking.  I wasn't that worried until they started going numb a while later and then I started experiencing stabbing pain in my hands.  I have really poor circulation, and even wearing gloves was not helping.  At that point I pretty much couldn't think anymore because I was so focused on my hands and how much pain they were in.  It was nearly time to meet back up with the whole group for a Bible study, and so I just kept walking straight to the meeting point (which was inside), ignoring everything else around me.  All I could think about was getting inside.  Here I was, unable to make it 2 hours in the cold, and yet these people we met were sleeping on the streets overnight.  I know that I would never be able to make it, and therefore I am humbled at how difficult life must be for them. 

The Bible study consisted of all the volunteers plus about 5-7 homeless men.  The message was about building a caring community and support system amongst each other.  I won't disclose the location where we met, but it was in a public place, and I'm quite impressed that no one minds all those people meeting there with thermoses and left over sandwiches and bags of clothes, etc.  It truly is a blessing to all get to come together in a warm place.

Let us be thankful tonight if we have warm houses to sleep in.  God is good my friends.

Here are the crafting pics:

Meat or Fruit?

It's never a good sign when your dessert dish looks like fried chicken.  I didn't think fried food could be messed up so easily.  Let me explain.  Today I ventured into trying to cook fried mango fritters, which are suppposedly from Tanzania according to the cookbook.  However, Kenyans, who don't live all that far from Tanzania, have never heard of this.  I think someone made it up.  That should have been my first warning sign.  Anyway, I retract my previous statement that all the recipes in the book are easy, especially now that I've been glancing through the Asian section.  I think I'm going to have to call for back up assistance with those dishes because they have lots of ingredients and require yeast...something that gives me trouble.  I tried making homemade bread a few weeks ago, and it would never rise correctly.  it was the most dense loaf of bread ever.  I told Aquila she wasn't allowed to offer it to any of our guests.

The mango recipe should have been easy though.  It's just breaded fruit.  How hard can it be?  I think something's wrong with the recipe because the batter was sticky and goupy.  I even tried it twice with no improvement.  It was all I could do to get a little breading to stick to the mango.  And after I fried them it looked like a plate of chicken fingers staring back at me.  I was ready to get out the honey mustard sauce.

The other significant problem is that I think it's nearly impossible to find a quality mango in this country.  They don't exist (except for one or two rare times I've bought them).  Mostly I've completely given up on trying to buy them.  There's something wrong when the fruit is soft and "ripe" and yet still green colored.  I didn't like mangoes at all until I went to Kenya, and that's because all the ones I had here were never ripe.  I actually initially thought they were kind of sour.  Isn't sad that in America I think the frozen mangoes taste better than fresh ones?  The ones I bought today I had to completely dissect to cut out some strange brown marks in the middle.  I thought it was rotten, but it didn't taste like it. 

The verdict: just eat a regular mango....in Kenya or another country that grows them.  And seriously, don't fry them. 

A Nicaraguan Treat

So my street food cookbook has become popular, and now my roommate Aquila is into the idea of helping make some of the dishes.  I'm rather grateful because that means we get to eat twice as much great food.  Seriously, if you came into our house on any given night of the week, you'd think you weren't in America or that at least one of us was from another country.  I can't remember the last American thing I've cooked.  Wait, that's not totally true because on Sunday I made Skyline dip (a Cincinnati tradition) for a Super Bowl party.  Although I'd hardly count that as cooking because all you do is open cans and boxes and throw everything together.  I'm not really into that box kind of "cooking," but sometimes you need small reminders of home.

Anyway, Aquila made this Nicaraguan dish called Gallo Pinto.  We're all about improvising in this house, so she used chick peas instead of pinto beans.  But the results were still great.  It's mainly a rice dish with cilantro, chili powder, and garlic topped with tomatoes and sour cream.  I'm sold on the idea.  And it's easy, which is even better.  That seems to be the trend with this book that things only take a few ingredients and a few steps. 

I have an entire grocery list ready with ingredients just for recipes in this book.  I think I would be cooking something everyday if only I had a stocked refrigerator! 

Mandazi Pics

Here are the pictures from my mandazi making. 

Mandazi!!

It's amazing how a little cooking can be so completely relaxing for me (thank you Jesus that cooking is enjoyable to me!).  It has been a bit of a hectic day...one can always tell the state of my life by examining my purse.  When everything is organized and in it's place, one can assume that I'm balancing my time quite well and feeling good.  And then there's days like today, when the state of my purse goes beyond even Mary Poppins' carpet bag.  My friend Kelsey was trying to help me find my camera in my purse, but she became overwhelmed by the amount of stuff she was looking through.  She pulled out a few items before politely suggesting that maybe I should wash the flour off my hands and attempt to dig through everything to find it.  I literally dumped everything out and looked multiple times before retrieving it.  But I am now totally calm and at peace after my adventure preparing recipe #2 from the street food extravaganza book.  I chose to make mandazi, which is a familiar favorite from Kenya.  I first learned about mandazi back in 2008 from my friend Lyonne, who would prepare batches of it at the house where I was staying in Nairobi.  While I learned the Lyonne version, I never mastered the actual street vendor mandazi taste because the recipes were slightly different.  Clearly I've spent 4 years completely missing out on the true mandazi experience--until now. 

Mandazi is basically just fried dough: flour, sugar, baking powder, and a few spices, mixed together, rolled out and cut into triangles.  Then you fry them up in good old oil, and WaLa... you have mandazi.  It's less sweet than our sugary American donuts and funnel cakes but good just the same for it's simplicity.  There's no extra icing or powdered sugar involved.  One time I made the Lyonne version for my church during a presentation I gave about Kenya.  Much to my dismay, my mom insisted on dumping cinnamon and sugar all over the top of them to give them more taste.  Meanwhile I nearly had a meltdown as I complained that she was ruining their authenticness.  (By the way I love my mom dearly, and I'm basically a hypocrite because I've come to love smearing jam all over my chapati...not exactly the way Kenyans eat them!). 

The whole endeavor was short and sweet.  I got all excited and started jumping up and down as the mandazi fried in the pan.  They turned out pretty much like the real thing, I think.  The only slight difference is that we're on a bit of a health kick at our house, so we're using white whole wheat flour these days (I figure Kenyans are practical and use what they have, so I cannot bother myself with making a trip to the store for white flour).  So they were very brown looking mandazi but nice and fluffy and delicious all the same.  It takes me right back to those Sunday mornings last summer when Rachel and I would leave our apartment early in the morning to spend time doing devotions with the boys from the juvenile.  We never made time for breakfast at home, so we'd grab some mandazi from the street vendor near Kibera before jumping on the bus.  I can perfectly picture the lady cooking the mandazi, flipping each one as the oil sizzled.  Ahhh, yes...

I will post pictures of my mandazi goodness soon because at the present moment I have left my camera cord in the computer at work--typical.  So in the meantime, perhaps I should go clean out my purse!

The World of Street Food

I realized recently that I haven't blogged in months, and I rather miss it.  It's become a habit for me to blog when I'm in other countries.  But then I come home, get back into somewhat of a routine, and unconsciously start to think that my life isn't interesting enough to write about anymore.  I can tell I'm really out of practice with blogging because I have now deleted and retyped the last 3 sentences multiple times, almost as though I'm self conscious about what I'm going to say.  I would never do that in Kenya.  The words just seem to flow off of my hands there, and I can't type fast enough--literally: I never know when the power might go off, so I really have to type fast.  Anyway, I've been reading the book Julie and Julia for my book club group this month, and it has created all sorts of inspiration in my life.  I'm not even sure how much I like the book, but I do like how it's reminding me of things that I love in my life.  The book is all about how Julie Powell blogs about her year of cooking through Julia Child's cookbook.  Reading the book reminded me of how much I missed blogging.  And then I was at a fair trade store the other day, and I felt drawn to this cookbook I've been looking at for months.  It's called The World of Street Food and is full of global recipes from every continent.  I recognized several of the dishes, including two from Kenya, and one from China.  Nearly everytime I'm at the fair trade store I want to buy it, but I feel guilty purchasing something for myself.  But this time between the Julie/Julia book and me missing being able to eat as much street food as I want, it seemed necessary.  Besides, my roommate and I are on this cooking new things (and not from a box) kick, and so it seemed to fit right in.  And then I thought, hmmm....I should start trying some of these recipes and then blog about them.  Ok, I know it totally sounds totally cheesy like I'm copying right from the Julie/Julia book, but really it's not that.  I just feel this need to be adding some cultural experiences into my life and this happens to fit in.  And I feel like I can justify buying the cookbook if I actually use it.

So on that note, I tried my first recipe from the cookbook.  I basically just flipped through and found something easy that didn't require another trip to the grocery store (I am striving for some simplicity in my life).  Thus, I selected the Kalawule (spicy fried bananas), which is a dish from Ghana.  And can I just say that I hope all the recipes are this easy.  Basically it's just pieces of bananas chopped up and coated in a chili powder/ginger/pepper mixture and then they're fried.  I cheated with the oil because you are supposed to use palm or peanut oil.  We had neither, so I used coconut oil...can one really be troubled over what kind of oil they are using?  (I'm all about improvising).  It only took about 5 minutes to make, and everyone at my house agreed it was delicious.  i'm not one for overly spicy food, but this had the perfect amount of kick to it.  I didn't even need a glass of water.  I would make these again just because.  My roommate even added the recipe to her recipe box, so I guess that's a sign that it's a must make again treat.

It felt really good to be making something African.  I really miss chapati, samosa, and all that other Kenyan street food goodness.  But I can say that we've been keeping the Kenyan spirit alive in my house.  Chai is regularly cooked here several times a week and my Kenyan spices (Royco) are frequently thrown into dishes (which in turn prompts lots of teachers to ask me what I'm eating while I'm in the teacher's lounge at lunch).   And my roommate insists that we must cook pilau soon. It is my hope to feel a little bit Kenyan always, even when I'm over here in America. 

Stay tuned for more international cooking soon...I hope!

Ghana Airport

So here I am in Ghana.  This is like the longest day ever.  We have an 11 hour layover here.  We met another American guy here who is on the same connecting flight with us, and we're passing the time talking to him about his time in Kenya.  Someone in the airport tried to make us pay money to get a transport visa when we arrived.  I'm pretty sure that was just some shady deal he was attempting to make.  He said we needed the visa because our time between our connecting flight was so long and that it cost $20.  I said we don't have any money with us (which is true.  I have like 50 shillings left and no American money).  And after some talking back and forth he said he was willing to wave the fee for us.  So we bypassed the customs line and walked out of the airport again to go back inside to departures.  Again we definitely could have left the airport, but the problem is that they wouldn't check our luggage all the way.  So we are sitting with 3 suitcases and 1 bag.  Rachel is on luggage watching duty while I'm typing.  No where in the whole airport accepts credit cards and so Rachel walked quite far to find an ATM to get some Ghanan money so that we could eat.

It has been an extremely hard day for me.  I was crying hysterically all morning and at the airport.  Edwin drove us there and Tall and Julius came with.  They were all watching us through the windows waving to us as we waited in line for our tickets.  I can't believe I am leaving all these people that I care about so much and that I have bonded with so well.  Yes, there have been struggles at times and living with everyone was difficult.  Us mzungus often got frustrated by the loud music which woke us up many times in the morning.  But overall it has been such a good experience and I have learned so much.

Yesterday we went to juvenile for the last time to make chapati with the boys.  Nearly everyone loves chapati here and for these boys it's a rare treat.  They never have it at juvenile because it takes so long to make for that many people and isn't as cheap as other foods.  This process went extremely smooth, much better than I expected.  All the boys took turns mixing, rolling, and cooking.  Overall there was minimal amount of pushing and fighting.  And with so many hands we finished cooking in 2 hours.  One boy told me he remembered doing this in 2008 when I was here.  It is good to know that people remember.  We had a small drama to deal with during the day because John, the street boy, stayed at our house on Friday.  And Julius discovered in the morning that John had taken 3000 shillings from his wallet.  So there was lots of discussion with him about what happened.  It seems he misunderstood that Alex was only temporarily taking him to Kibera to stay for a few days before taking him home.  I think John thought he was being left there.  Of course that doesn't justify the stealing though. 

We went out for Ethiopian food last night as a farewell dinner.  And then we came back to the house for tea and people came over to pray for us.  It was good to hear everyone recap about how they think the 2 months went and what we have learned from each other.  Rachel and I tried to stay up most of the night so that we are very tired for the plane so that our bodies can adjust. We made it till about 3:30 a.m. and slept 2 hours before getting back up.  We are decked out in our Kenyan garb, braided hair, and tire shoes.  I think minus our skin color we could pass for Kenyans.

So Monday morning I will be home.  I feel so conflicted and pulled in many directions.  I know that school is about to begin in America and that I have a purpose there.  But it is very hard to leave behind my life in Nairobi.  The people that I've met are like my family.  And the stories of the women and boys we've met really tug at my heart.  I am so encouraged by the way people share the little that they have and the strong faith of people who have been through so much.  I may be leaving Kenya, but I know that I will not forget what I have seen.  This place is such a part of me and I pray that I will be changed for the better by what God has allowed me to experience.  Thank you again for all your prayers.  We have stayed fairly healthy for our whole trip and have yet to have anything stolen.  We were kept safe at night when so many scary things happen in Nairobi.  Truly God has protected us and we appreciate your prayers.  Asante Sana.  I hope to see some of you soon and share with you about my time here.  Barikwa sana!

More Goodbyes

As the week winds down, we are continuing to say bye to people.  Yesterday was the small boys juvenile.  Unfortunately we haven't really grown that close with those boys.  They don't speak much English, so communication is difficult and we haven't spent as much time there as the other places.  But all the same, we finished up our time there yesterday.  Rachel, Alex, Tall, and Julius came back from Mombasa on Wednesday, so it has been nice having them around again.  Today we enjoyed our last day with the street boys.  We played all sorts of games with them.  It becomes very apparent when doing this as to who is on a lot of drugs.  We were playing that very simple hand clap game, Down By the Banks, and Kennedy could not grasp the simple comment of slapping the hand of the person next to him.  Kennedy is probably at least 19 so this shouldn't be difficult but it really was for him.  Fortunately I only saw one person actually using drugs today.  And it happened at the end.  It was an older man.  He willingly gave me the bottle and rag he was using.  I thought they were basically empty so I went to throw them up on the ledge where we always throw everything.  But silly me didn't notice there were actually a lot of drugs in the container and it spilled all over my hair.  I wouldn't normally even care that much except that my hair is braided and can't be washed.  What to do???  I guess just spray lots of product all over it to cover up the smell :)

The boys had some nice things to say about how they enjoyed us being there and they never thought visitors like us would come see them and God bless us on our trip back home.  The pastor also said that we've made him to have a backbone because he is better able to stand up to the boys and women and establish some ground rules.  Rachel and I laughed about that.  White people are known here for being open, honest, and speaking their minds. Yes, that probably fits us.  At the end there were people from city council who came to meet with the boys.  They told them all this stuff about how the constitution has rights for them and they can go to these free hospitals and they have a right to have a place to sleep, blah, blah, blah.  They weren't telling them anything concrete, and it seemed like a bunch of hogwash to me.  We asked Julius about it later and he said it was all talk--that nothing much would happen and that there is a government place where they take these boys but it's unacceptable.  It's overcrowded; they aren't fed much; they have to wake up at 4 a.m.  Many of the boys who go there just run away because the streets are actually a more appealing alternative.  On a good note, we took another kid from the street today.  He's currently at our house waiting for Alex.  Alex is supposed to take him to live with his brother for the night and then take him home tomorrow.  He was extremely excited on the bus ride home.  He keeps trying to talk in this mzunugu voice, which just sounds really silly.  He had a bad headache.  I think maybe he is very dehydrated and hadn't eaten for a long time until we fed him lunch today.  Also Francis showed up with the street boys today.  That's the first time we've seen him in over a month.  Rachel talked with him about where he's been and how we were disappointed that he ran away.  She said he looked like he might cry.  He looked to me like maybe he'd been using drugs too.

And then there's this issue of Peter.  Rachel and I were just examining his leg before we came to the cyber.  He has completely bled through the gauze on his leg.  I fear that when they took the staples out that something bad happened.  And I just wonder if there has been any improvement at all.  We are going to get some new gauze on our way back to the house and have him rewrap it.  I worry though that this issue really hasn't been solved at all after all the effort.  Continue praying for him please.

We stopped by Julius' mom's house in Kibera and made tea for her.  Their house is nice and tidy and she was so welcoming.  I'm really going to miss hanging out and having tea with people.  And Rachel and I were commenting yesterday about how we're going to miss street food.  It's so yummy, convenient, and cheap!  And I'm going to miss joking around on the matatus.  Yesterday we pretended not to know Alex and let him strike up this conversation with us on the ride to juvenile.  I think the guy next to Alex was really believing the whole thing and a little bit confused until I finally turned around and said, "We know him actually.  He's our friend."  And he just laughed.

Rachel and I discovered today that we think these little neighbor kids have been going through our stuff and eating our chocolate.  It's really normal here for kids to just come into the house by themselves when your door is open.  It's very wierd for Rachel and I and we usually kindly try to ask them to leave because they're just sort of walking all around the house.  What we didn't realize is that they've been coming in while Peter is there by himself.  Rachel was upset when she found her backpack and suitcase opened up.  Nothing was missing, but it was a bit disorderly.  I couldn't figure out why I keep having chocolate missing.  We were hiding chocolate in our room to make s'mores and everyday a little bit more disappears.  We're pretty sure the kids took it. I'm glad they didn't take any money or anything important.  It's just wierd.  And people share everything here, so food of ours often gets eaten.  We don't mind so much except when it's something special we've gotten.  There was a time we came home and a bag and a half of Ashley's marshmallows had disappeared (we found out some of our friends ate them).  I think we're just very used to people asking before they help themselves and so that frustrates us a lot.

One more day here before we leave Sunday morning.  We're going to juvenile to make chapati.  And tonight I requested that we eat madondo (beans)...my favorite.  Thanks so much for your prayers and support while I've been here.  I appreciate knowing that you all care enough to read these long posts.  Be prepared for lots of storytelling and picture showing when I get back on Monday.

Last Day With the Street Women

So today was the last day with the street women.  I didn't expect to get so emotional, but I definitely shed lots of tears.  (Can't imagine what the next few days will be like).  I was telling them about how the first time I came there, it was crazy.  All the women were yelling, shouting, on drugs, complaining, etc.  I complimented them on how far they'd come.  Today they were sitting down nicely listening when we walked in.  I'm so amazed by the small ways even that God is changing their lives.  We brought cookies and juice for a small farewell party.  We also carried thermoses of hot water so that we could wash the babies today.  The moms helped us, which was really nice.  And the kids seemed less upset by it.  One little boy, James, just stood quietly in the water and didn't cry at all.  Several of the kids have ringworm or some kind of worm on their skin, not to mention some crazy rashes.  I think one boy had a severe case of diaper rash, or maybe something worse; I'm not sure.  But I know that sitting in poopy pants all day cannot be good.  The women had nice things to say to us.  Mama Vincent gave me a necklace she made, and I gave her my shoes.  They stink pretty badly, but I think with some cleaning they will last a long time and be much better than the cheap flip flops most people wear.  Oh, and praise God...no one was doing drugs today.

In the morning we were in Kibera.  I've stocked up on lots of things to sell...necklaces, earrings, woven basket bags, and some soap stone bowls.  We had to do a little negotiating because a new lady came today and was trying to sell her necklaces for 100 shillings more than the other ladies.  That's only a dollar, but still it's kind of a big deal.  She tried to insist that the quality of her work was better, but I think they are equal.  So we got her to agree to less and I think the other women were pleased that we appreciated their work and wanted to make it fair for all.  Rachel and I took them a big bag of our clothes.  We're leaving almost everything here except for a few pieces of clothing.

Monday I took Peter to the hospital, and he got a mostly good report.  They said the skin graft took ok.  It looked really gross to me though and not all that healed.  But they took the staples out and said it was fine.  I had to leave the room during this b/c for some reason I couldn't handle it that day.  He goes back for a follow up in 2 weeks, which means someone else will be taking him.  They said he can start getting it wet next week.  But the part of the skin that was vacuumed together is still oozing really badly.  I just wonder how it will be.  And the doctors said he needs to have his bone looked at every few months in case the infection flares up.  Please pray that he would heal and mend and that this isn't just a short term fix.

On the way home today, the lady on the bus next to us started freaking out yelling in Swahili.  The person on the other side of me finally explained that she was upset b/c she claimed to have dropped some money and thought the person in front of her picked it up and took it.  The woman in front of her was denying everything, and the yelling continued while everyone on the bus turned to stare.

When we walked through Kibera carrying our tea for the women this morning, everyone kept making comments like, "mzunugu, give me some tea."  And I decided to have a little fun with the situation, so I started making comments like, "sure, chai 40 bob."  It should be only 5 or 10 shillings a cup, so the people started laughing or acting surprised and it became this big joke.  I said, "Special mzunugu price."  (That's what they tell me at the market).

I got my hair plaited and braided yesterday, and it looks pretty sweet.  I'm getting bad headaches from it being so tight, but it's worth it.  Julius' sister, Alice, did it for me.  And she took less than 4 hours, which is impressive.  Last time I sat for 6 hours.  Our Dutch friend, Shantal, had her hair braided on Monday and it was bothering her so much that she took it out the next morning.  She even had to cut some of her hair b/c she couldn't get it out. She and her family left this morning, which was very sad.  I hung out with them yesterday and it was hard because Shantal really wasn't ready to leave.  She is praying that God allows a way for her family to come back.  If her husband could get a job here there would be a possibility they would come back to stay here.  We ordered pizza with them and there was a big mixup at the pizza place over the number of pizzas ordered.  We ended up getting 10 instead of 6, so let's just say there was lots to go around.  And ice cream too because they were cleaning out their freezer.  I took the ice cream home and Peter and I had some before I took the rest over to our Eritrean neighbors.  I had to get rid of it quickly because it was melting and we have no refrigerator or freezer.  I stayed and had coffee with the neighbors.  They are super nice and polite.  But it's wierd too because the mom seems to think that I have some special power to help her because I am white.  She is a refugee here and I'm not sure if she is going to be deported or if it's just difficult to get a job here.  The family talked a lot about how they are discriminated against by Kenyans because they look differently.  Her husband was drafted into fighting in Eritrea...apparently Eritrea and Ethiopia are fighting over the border, which I didn't know.  And I think the husband was killed.  So they fled and now she is stuck here.  I'm not sure how she is able to support her 4 children.  There are 2 other Eritreans in the building, and they all hang out together and consider each other to be family.  They call each other sister and brother.  That is what I like about Africa--this sense of family and of taking care of each other.  We are after all part of God's family, right?  So may we not see skin color or background or upbringing or socioeconomic status.  That's my prayer today and that I would bring this value of family togetherness home with me.

Was My Kitchen On Fire?

Because Peter and I can't clearly understand each other, often our conversations are like trying to solve a mystery.  We work really hard to talk slow and motion with our hands and pull out the small English and Swahili phrases that we each know.  And sometimes we are left staring at each other frustrated because we have no idea what the other one is talking about.  Take yesterday, for instance.  I went to juvenile with Popo for devotions.  And of course, without exception, things were disorganized there.  Some other random man had also come to do devotions.  But no worries, Popo and I sat and listened and added some things at the end and sang some songs with them.  I realize when I hear other people speaking to the boys, that not everyone is cut out to minister effectively to them.  Alex and Popo have been blessed with being really hilarious and because of that they can easily get the boys' attention and get them to listen.  When this other man was speaking every few minutes he would pause and say, "you, why aren't you listening?  you, I'll kick you out.  you, you're being disrespectful, etc."  obviously you have to ignore some of this stuff or you'll never get anywhere.  anyway, he mostly had them listening I just don't know if they were really letting anything sink in.  And at one point he kept talking about how God wants to make you rich (and not in the spiritual sense).  This is a common message that I hear a lot, even last time, and it really bothers me.  I think God wants us to bless others and live in a way that we are able to share and help others, but maybe that's just me.  Anyway, after this I went with Popo to the Salvation Army church in Kibera.  There was no room inside so we were just standing outside until the pastor came and insisted that I couldn't sit outside.  I really didn't want to go in b/c it appeared that Popo was getting left outside.  But Popo made me come in, and I had to sit in the front of the church and Popo was given a seat on the stage, which made him feel really uncomfortable too.  I had no idea what was going on because the entire service was in Swahili, so Popo kept texting me updating me on what was going on, "They're praying for the pastor b/c he's having surgery", etc.  I know...texting in church...bad right?  I would never let myself do that in the U.S.

Anyway, back to Peter.  I came home and the house smelled like smoke.  I asked what the smell was and he said he didn't know.  I thought it might be coming from outside b/c people are always burning trash.  And I had Peter start cutting vegetables to make lunch.  Then a few minutes later I found a very burned towel in the trash.  And I said, "Peter, did you catch something on fire?"  After much struggle with communication I got the basic idea that he was cooking chips (french fries) and either the grease caused a fire on the towel or he accidentally got it caught in the flames.  And to put it out he had thrown water everywhere.  Everything was wet: the floor, the dishes, the flowers in the window from Popo's graduation.  I wasn't mad about the fire.  I mean let's face it: I do silly klutzy things like that all the time.  But the fact that he lied to me about nothing happening was really irritating.  I don't know if he thought I would be mad or what.  I was also concerned about getting the floor dry because i fell down yesterday from it being so slippery and I don't want Peter to fall.  I feel bad that he is in the house a lot by himself. I've been trying to work with him on his math and writing his letters, but I feel limited by what I can do because I don't speak Swahili.  His English has improved though.  Ashley talked with him on the phone last night, and she could tell a difference from when she left.  Peter has a doctor's appointment this afternoon, so we'll see what happens.

i was with the street women this morning.  everyone, (meaning Alex, Rachel, Tall, and Julius), is in Mombasa (not sure if I mentioned that), so I was there by myself.  Popo had other things to do today.  I arrived and there were 3 women for about 45 minutes.  I talked with them as best I could.  Mama Vincent arrived and that helped because her English is perfect.  She hasn't done drugs for the entire week and she has moved into a house!  She looked very clean and nice today.  Praise God!  The pastor never came, and I thought he wasn't going to show.  So mama Vincent and I went to buy food.  I never knew where they got the food from, but I learned today that it's a little nearby "slum" restaurant sort of.  It's just this little tin structure down the road from the church.  I thought maybe I could get food and eat with them too, but it was really really dirty...worse than most places I usually eat, so I decided maybe not.  I got chapati though...somehow it seems cleaner to me b/c it's been fried and isn't sitting in a dirty dish.  Probably isn't...just a mental thing.  We went back to the church and of course now there were 7 more women and the pastor and all sorts of kids.  They spent forever arguing about coming on time, etc.  And the pastor just sort of lets them talk and discusses it with them.  Finally I said, "um, are we still talking about coming on time?" (i wasn't sure b/c the conversation was in swahili) They were; and I said, we need to move on. you know the rules and the consequences and that's that.  and finally they finished up this discussion and moved on to the Bible.  Seriously, do we need to have this same conversation every time?  Follow through, please!  I watched the babies while they talked.  And can i just say that watching 6 kids under the age of 3 is really hard to do by yourself.  One girl peed her pants and it was all over the cement and she was playing in the puddle.  Mugo, one of the babies, is super mean to the kids.  His mom is never around.  And everyone punishes him by hitting him, which in turn just makes him hit the other kids.

By the way, I should have been saying how thankful I have been because lately I've been taking lots of hot showers!  I think because we've been having less people staying at the house that there's more hot water to go around.  It doesn't stay hot super long, so you have to be snappy and turn it off while you're shampooing your hair, but it does get hot.  The water situation is still iffy.  Usually it's off during the day.  But on Friday I came back and there was no water at all, and we hadn't stored up any extra as we normally try to.  I barely had enough drinking water to brush my teeth, and there was absolutely no way I could wash my face.  Popo got up early and nicely asked the landlady to fix the problem.  She didn't have water either and so somehow she pumped water into the storage tank.  The water tanks are on the top of the building in a large black container.  But we store water in some kind of cistern underneath our apartments.  there's an opening for the cistern right by the gate where you enter into our compound.  So I don't know if she pumped it from there or what but it was quite glorious to wake up and be able to take a shower.

Lately people keep making comments about my nationality.  Several people have asked if I'm from China or Japan...seriously people?  One girl told me she thought so because my eyes were small.  And then as I was walking the other day, someone said, "hello miss.  where are you from?  Egypt?"  Rach and I are always trying to guess where other mzungus we see are from.  We're usually able to narrow it down pretty easily based on what they're wearing or how they're talking.  it's strange though b/c when white people see each other here, it's like we're uncomfortable or something because we never maintain eye contact.  People look away instantly almost as if we don't want to acknowledge the fact that we stand out.

Peter is Home!

Yes, it's true--Peter finally got discharged from the hospital, and it seemed to happen almost effortlessly.  Ok, maybe that's not true.  I've spent days and days seeking information and asking when he can go home and begging people to inform me.  I had planned to call and possibly visit the hospital yesterday afternoon b/c they were going to look at his leg in the morning.  I expected to wait hours for a doctor to give me information.  Instead, we were in Kibera yesterday with the women making beads.  Alex came in a bit late and made a casual comment about how the hospital called and Peter was being discharged.  And I'm like, Whoa....wait, what??  I then called and talked to the surgeon and she said that the skin graft looked good enough for him to recover at home.  The catch was that I only had 2 hours to get to the hospital and sign paperwork or we would be charged for another day.  Now 2 hours might seem like plenty of time, but it's really not when you have to get there using public transportation.  Plus we were deep in Kibera and someone always has to walk me out b/c i'm completely lost in there.  so off we trudged out of Kibera carrying 21 straw baskets that Emily, one of the ladies, made for us.  Oh, and we also had 2 wash basins, 2 thermos of hot water (all for washing the babies in the afternoon), jam and butter from making tea for the ladies, and lots of other stuff.  We looked ridiculous and Joyce, who's house we were at, couldn't understand why I was in such a hurry.  I ended up going to the hospital by myself so that Alex and Rach could go meet with the street women.  I got there in record time; it only took about 1 hour 15 minutes...hooray for no traffic.  I signed some papers, went and picked up his medicine from the pharmacy, found out I'm getting a small amount of money back from the hospital, and that was it.  I think it's the only day I've smiled while at Aga Khan.  So at this point he was free to go, but I didn't want to take a taxi with him myself, so I had to wait 3 hours for Alex and Rachel to come.  Peter was asleep, so i found some lunch and finally finished a book I've been trying to read the whole summer.  Around 5:00 we finally left for home.  Peter seems glad to go home, although I just don't think he was truly understanding how careful he has to be.  We have been reiterating this over and over.  Rach and I have insisted he can only get up to use the bathroom and that's about it.  They didn't give him crutches or anything and we have no chairs in our house, or any furniture except a falling apart stool, so he is pretty much confined to the mattresses.  We go back on Monday for a follow up with the plastic surgeon.  Thank you so much for your prayers for Peter and continue praying for his recovery.

Also please be praying for Rachel and I as we prepare to come home in a week.  We are both really struggling with not wanting to leave and we try not to talk about it too much. I don't really know how to merge these 2 lives of mine together.  I know it will be difficult leaving everyone behind here, and I think it's going to be a hard transition for me.  I pray that I may take the good things that I have learned from America and Kenya and that they may shape who I am wherever I am living.

Celebrity Encounter

So I met, or rather saw, a famous Kenyan yesterday.  I went to the doctor here (yes, I am very scared of health care matters here but decided to take the risk) because I've been having this pain in my stomach since before I left the U.S.  After many tests at home, no one could figure anything out, so I thought I'd pay a visit to Dr. Saio, my favorite doctor here.  He is the Italian doctor who specializes in tropical medicine and was the one who finally figured out what was wrong with me last time I was here.  Funny enough they still had my file from 3 years ago, and he asked for a whole recap on how I'd been doing since then.  He was telling stories of travelers who'd developed diseases here that no one could diagnose at home but he finally figured it out.  And when you hear him tell these things you can just tell he knows what he's talking about.  Anyway, I was in the lab having blood work done, and the same lab doctor was in there too.  I said, hey I remember you.  You're the one who told me last time that I didn't have malaria b/c if I'd had it this long I'd be dead.  And he said, yeah I remember you.  He was all frazzled and flustered though and proceeded to tell me it had been a crazy afternoon because people kept coming in without appointments.  and i said, oh is that common?  And he said, well we have these Olympic athletes in here.  I asked for clarification and he explained that the woman I'd seen in the waiting room with the nice Nike shoes was Nancy Langat, the Kenyan runner who won a gold medal in Beijing.  I'm sure that was a breach of confidentiality, although that maybe doesn't exist here, but in any case I thought it was pretty sweet.  So again I definitely feel like I'm at the right doctor if they're treating Olympians there.  And my whole appointment took only a little over an hour.  I love Western time :)

Today we are off to see the women in Kibera and hopefully they've made some sweet artsy stuff for us.  They are making necklaces, earrings, and bags.  If anyone is interested in purchasing this stuff when I get home, let me know.  They really do great work and the money goes back to supporting them.  Not sure if I mentioned that we bought some things from them last week and they were so happy b/c many of them hadn't been able to feed their families for several days.  We're also trying to bring hot water to wash the babies this afternoon and then off to the hospital for an update on Peter. 

Have a great day everyone.  God Bless.

Thoughts on Culture

Today is our day off, although I'm not exactly sure that it feels like a day off and usually I stay pretty busy anyway.  I slept as long as I could before going to lovely Aga Khan Hospital.  I found Peter in a wheel chair trying to explore as much of the very small surgical ward as possible.  He seems to be in less pain today although I'm not for sure b/c i was by myself and I don't know how well he understands me.  I went to pay the hospital bill, which seems to be mounting everyday, although my mom reminded me it would be costing 10x this in the U.S.  I still got no answer as to whether we would not have to pay for the extra time he's been in the hospital due to a delay of surgery.  So I guess I just wait and hope for the best and keep talking to the manager as I did again today. They are supposed to look at his graft tomorrow to check on the progress. One cool thing is that the surgical beds in the hospital are made by HillRom!  yes, that's right.  For you Brookville people, you understand that it's a big deal since HillRom is right next door in little Batesville, Indiana.

It occured to me today that I don't talk a lot about some of the basic cultural things I encounter everyday.  I guess I figure many of you have already read my book and know some of this.  But let me brief you slightly...for instance, I take a bus to town every morning.  The bus conductors stand outside of the bus and yell for passengers to come and wait for it to fill up before continuing.  Then they come around to collect your money.  Most days it's 30 shillings but it varies on the same route and i glance around at everyone else hoping to know the cost.  To get to the hospital I take a matatu, and these have become much  less blingy these days.  The music seems softer than my last time here and they aren't decked out with as many stickers and all sorts of writing anymore either.  New laws have caused these changes.  I used to see Obama's face all over them and Britney Spears, and various other pop stars but not as much now.  Sometimes I think the matatu drivers must just be bored and that is why they choose to take these ridiculous "short cut" routes that go off the sidewalk and through the dirt and are always very bumpy.  Often people are selling bananas right next to the matatu and Rach and I are usually eager for them to come to our window so we can by a snack.  There is a small shop with food and household products right next to our house.  I love it and will really miss the convenience of it.  We go there every morning to by milk and bread for making tea.  They sell airtime for the phone, snacks, rice, oil, toilet paper.  you name it, it's there.

i went to exchange american money today, and i can't say i enjoy this.  you have to go into a small "room" where the cashier is behind glass.  And no one outside can see completely into these rooms although you can make out shadows.  it's all meant for security, but i don't know if it helps.  once in the room i could completely see how much money the person in the room next to me was exchanging.  how exactly is that secure?  and by the way, they hate small bills here.  $20 gets a worse exchange rate than a $50 or $100.  does that happen at home?  at one point during the exchange someone handed the cashier a huge wad of thousands of shillings.  just seeing that much money makes me fear theft.  i left quickly once i was done, hoping that everyone on the street didn't notice that i just came out of this place.  it's not exactly great for people to know you're carrying around lots of cash.