all is well (so happy my bag is with me). I'm in Lamu, where to my astonishment I found an abundence of internet cafes. Weird. NO cars, no sanitation, few paved roads, even fewer children with shoes, garbage everywhere, donkey doo everywhere BUT internet. I just saw the NY Times news about the coup in Thailand. Everyone on that side of the world ok? Any thoughts from either of you? It's not every day I read about a coup d'etat.
I think I'm going to do my independent study project on the Takwa ruins on Manda Island. They're ruins from the golden age of Swahili trade (16th century). I bet you can look it up online. Manda is beautiful. I'd be spending half my time there and half my time in Lamu doing research. I'd be living 50 ft from a completely, COMPLETELY deserted beach. However, my tutor tells me to be careful of snakes (boa constrictor size - she refuses to go back to the island because of them) and Athman said to be careful of lions. Lions and tigers and bears oh my!
Lamu is also beautiful but the donkey doo can get a bit trying. Outside of walking, donkeys are the only means of transportation by land. There are only two cars on the island and I've seen one of them. It's hard to believe I've been here for a week and a half! I've learned more Kiswahili in that time than in 3 years of french. We have class from 7am to 12:30pm and then 2 hours with a tutor (conversation only). My regular tutor is a bit lax about speaking Kiswahili with me; our conversations are generally limited to culture questions (what's acceptable, why swahili do this etc). Today however, I met with the sister-in-law because Hadida was out of town. AMAZING time. We talked for about an hour in Kiswahili and then switched to English interspersed with some Kiswahili. She's goes very pole pole which is the perfect speed for me.
The house is getting along pretty well, we haven't had any fights or much drama. Unfortunately most of us are sick. I have an ear infection (I'm pretty sure it's swimmers ears), Jeanne believes Africa hates her (a rash, tummy problems and recovering from strep throat), Hattie had sun-stroke, Vicki's tummy just went into an existential crisis, Sivan and a couple others are recovering from colds. Oh hurrah for microscopic invaders! Our immune systems will be so strong by the time we get back.
Danny really reminds me of Evan, it's kind of bizarre but makes getting along with him a piece of cake.
I'm finally able to sleep through the 4:30am rooster calls (they don't end until 6ish) and the 5:30am call to prayer. I hate waking up because my dreams are so vivid and strange (thank you malaria medication). The other night I dreamt I'd flown back to Claremont for a day to see my friends. The dream was so real I pinched myself in my dream because I thought I must be dreaming. I felt the pinch! Very odd.
Being in Kenya has little to do with what I want to study back in Claremont which makes me wonder why I'm here. Especially when conjugating verbs and agreeing nouns get too much for me. I miss my loved ones...and fresh veggies. When I'm sitting in class trying to get the right noun agreement I seriously contemplate my reason for coming here. It's not pushing me in the way I thought it would. I don't mind the bugs, the heat, the poverty, the utter lack of sanitation. I don't feel helpless. I'm not reacting to it the way I reacted in Cambodia or Burma. I think I'm better at rolling with the punches of daily life. I don't feel a culture shock the way I thought I would. Unfortunately this was part of the reason why I wanted to do an SIT program, to push myself. But I wouldn't give this up for the world (or for london). It's a unique experience...oh but golly what a fun time I would've had in London! Some other time. I'm perfectly content with a forest of palm trees, the milky way and veiled women. Ok my body guard is waiting must leave!
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Thursday, September 14, 2006
correspondence 9/14/06
It feels like I've been here for weeks instead of days. September 10 is eons away, prehistoric in fact. Oh baby donkey just walked by! There are no cars on Lamu, only donkeys. It's the only form of transport if people don't want to walk. This means two things: donkey shit everywhere and braying at all hours of the day...and night. Oh and cute baby donkeys walking by internet cafes.
The houses are built very close together (I'm betting you've looked up pictures) and look like images I've seen of the Casabah in Algeria. Sewage water runs through open drains that lead to the ocean (oh so very sanitary) and trash is everywhere. Oddly enough I like it. It's an adventure navigating between donkey doo, sewage, and garbage...that's how I like to look at it. The place reminds me of what a cleaner 16th century london might've looked like (doesn't say a whole lot about 16th century London, but never mind). Most Lamu houses date back to the late 19th century (some even further) and are made from a mixture of dead coral and cement. They are very tall (3-4 stories) with a rough surface of shell and cement. I get so involved in avoiding the donkey doo that I miss out on looking at my surroundings. When I get to know the town better maybe this will change. It's fun to run my fingers across the surface of buildings and pick out individual shells in the mish-mash of wall.
My day starts at 4:30am when the roosters wake up. Rarely have I felt such a strong antipathy towards a species (outside of carpenter ants and octipi). If you get a chance, kindly send me a meat cleaver - I'd put it to good use (chicken for dinner EVERY night). 5am is the call to prayer and I'm out of bed by 6:30. With a cup of tea or coffee I turn from rooster-hating-zombie to human being just in time for 7am Kiswahili class. I learn swahili until 8 when we break for breakfast and then it's back to school until 12:30pm. I can conjugate in the present, past, future and past perfect AND negate all of those. My vocabulary is pathetic and my conjugating abilities are sub-par but kidogo, kidogo (bit by bit) I will learn. We have a 1-2 hour lecture or tour at 2:30pm about Lamu or Swahili culture. At 5pm-7pm I go to my Kiswahili tutor and then from 7-8pm we have dinner at the guest house. By 9pm I'm zonked! Around 10pm a local musician comes to teach me a traditional Swahili wind instrument (it kind of looks like a clarinet, but smaller). I suck. One of the adivisors of the program noticed me playing my penny whistle and suggested I try to learn this Swahili instrument (can't remember the name for it, I know I'm horrible). It sounds like a banshee farting and is, for me, incredibly difficult to play. I spit and sputter through the palm reed as my poor teacher watches. I have the vague sense of tears welling up in his eyes as I butcher this beautiful instrument.
The houses are built very close together (I'm betting you've looked up pictures) and look like images I've seen of the Casabah in Algeria. Sewage water runs through open drains that lead to the ocean (oh so very sanitary) and trash is everywhere. Oddly enough I like it. It's an adventure navigating between donkey doo, sewage, and garbage...that's how I like to look at it. The place reminds me of what a cleaner 16th century london might've looked like (doesn't say a whole lot about 16th century London, but never mind). Most Lamu houses date back to the late 19th century (some even further) and are made from a mixture of dead coral and cement. They are very tall (3-4 stories) with a rough surface of shell and cement. I get so involved in avoiding the donkey doo that I miss out on looking at my surroundings. When I get to know the town better maybe this will change. It's fun to run my fingers across the surface of buildings and pick out individual shells in the mish-mash of wall.
My day starts at 4:30am when the roosters wake up. Rarely have I felt such a strong antipathy towards a species (outside of carpenter ants and octipi). If you get a chance, kindly send me a meat cleaver - I'd put it to good use (chicken for dinner EVERY night). 5am is the call to prayer and I'm out of bed by 6:30. With a cup of tea or coffee I turn from rooster-hating-zombie to human being just in time for 7am Kiswahili class. I learn swahili until 8 when we break for breakfast and then it's back to school until 12:30pm. I can conjugate in the present, past, future and past perfect AND negate all of those. My vocabulary is pathetic and my conjugating abilities are sub-par but kidogo, kidogo (bit by bit) I will learn. We have a 1-2 hour lecture or tour at 2:30pm about Lamu or Swahili culture. At 5pm-7pm I go to my Kiswahili tutor and then from 7-8pm we have dinner at the guest house. By 9pm I'm zonked! Around 10pm a local musician comes to teach me a traditional Swahili wind instrument (it kind of looks like a clarinet, but smaller). I suck. One of the adivisors of the program noticed me playing my penny whistle and suggested I try to learn this Swahili instrument (can't remember the name for it, I know I'm horrible). It sounds like a banshee farting and is, for me, incredibly difficult to play. I spit and sputter through the palm reed as my poor teacher watches. I have the vague sense of tears welling up in his eyes as I butcher this beautiful instrument.
Saturday, September 9, 2006
Hakuna matata
Hakunamatata 9/9/06
I have a mass email I'm sending out now and then (whenever I run into an internet cafe and have free time - the two don't often go together). To save time and because I don't have everyone's email address I thought I'd post the letters here.
Hamjambo!
I finally have a free afternoon to do a proper sit-down email! They keep us very busy here in Kenya, though the general motto is "polepole" and "hakunamatata" ("slow" and "no worries", respectively). One of the first proverbs we learnt was "haraka, haraka, haina baraka" or "hurry, hurry, has no blessing". I love it. When I get back you'll be hearing those A LOT.
The trip here was an adventure and therefore fantastic. The flight to New York got in about 30 min late and half the bags were left in Seattle. I made friends with woman sitting next to me and we had a jolly time running around JFK trying to find her a flight to Burlington and then our bags. The next morning at the Emirates check-in, the attendent swore he'd booked my bag on a flight to Nairobi (ba ha ha ha). My mind innocent of worries, I made my way to the gate to meet the people I'd be spending the next 4 months with. Like I said before there are 17 of us. We hail from all over the US and one Japanese resident (Daniel - he'd never heard of Kakinokizaka but he knew Megoroku). The group really is fantastic. I was surprised how well we fit together.
I'll try to give an abbreviated portrait of everyone, just so you get an idea. Danny is as crazy about linguistics as I am about history and reminds me of my brother. Vicki has the most beautiful curly golden hair I've ever seen; she's gullible, laughs easily and has no colon. Kayleigh (Kay-lee) smiles often and enjoys twirling. Sivan is loud in everything she does, even her movements. Torrie bargains like nobody I've ever seen, except maybe my aunt Kit. Julia is quiet, with a voice like chamomile tea (it nearly puts me to sleep it's that soothing). Reed is witty, tall and does dead-pan quite well. Ashley asks thought provoking questions, is curious and very tall (the perfect dinner partner). She (Shay) says grace before each meal and has a smile I could eat up. Lindsey walks like she knows where she's going and says what she thinks. Hattie has a strong Minnesota accent and perfect cupid's bow lips. Jennifer loves marine archeology and children make her nervous. Jasmine is elegant with perfect poise - she goes to Pomona. Daniel is quiet and speaks Kiswahili with a Japanese accent. Jeanne is freckly and easy to talk to. Gracey has a petite nose, a sunny disposition and always has bug spray with her.
It took us a total 29 hours to get to Mombasa (not counting layovers). Upon arrival I found out my bag had decided to stay in New York and my stomach had decided to have an existential crisis. Hakunamatata! Mombasa looks like a cross between Chang Mai (spelling?) and Macau. For those of you close to Mexico, it reminded me a bit of Tijuana (again, spelling?). It's dirty, busy, noisy but glorious. Goats nibble on heaps of garbage in the streets and fully veiled women walk by with kohl on their eyes. Even though I'm dressed modestly compared to the tourists, I still feel strange. I think I'm going to get a full veil, it'll be so much easier to walk around. There is such a mix of people in Mombasa (and Malindi). Africans, Arabs, Indians, silly tourists and everything in between. People are very friendly but our professors told us to make it clear that we're wanafunzi (students) not tourists. We get more respect and assistence if we respond in Kiswahili, instead of the touristy "jambo!".
I'd like to take a moment to thank my parents for dragging me all over the world; it's made me so much more prepared for what I see here, especially the poverty. Cambodia, Burma, Chang Mai, Guang Dong province, Macau, Hong Kong, even Tokyo - everything makes it easier. However, the 5am call to prayer is still something I have to get used to. I still don't quite understand how anyone could think about anything at 4:45am EVERY DAY, particularly prayer.
There have been so many high points of my trip that I don't know where to start. I saw my first Baobab tree! The drive to Malindi was breath-taking. From grimy Mombasa to fields and fields of jungle (including a couple monkeys swinging in the trees), then fields and fields of produce (I'm not sure what - cashew nuts?), and finally the ocean. Eating with my hands is definitely another high point. We can eat with only our right hand (a challenge for Vicki who's a lefty) and it's so much fun! I don't know how I'm going to make the transition back. Torrie and I visited a primary school in Malindi yesterday. I was impressed with how many students had shoes. The children spoke beautiful English compared to my Kiswahili (I have mastered "I'm called", "I'm from", "I like", "I want" and the general polite greetings/responses but that's it). The class rooms were just cement boxes with large spaces for windows and a doorway. Children shared benches, notebooks, everything. This school was pretty well-furnished compared with other ones I've passed. They had a section for mentally disabled and mentally handicapped students which was unusual. I wrote down the address if anyone wants more information.
Alright, I think I've updated enough. Even though it's only been 6 days since I've arrived it feels much longer. I know I'm missing some things. OH we saw a partial eclipse! Spaghetti is hard to eat with the right hand. Not having a suitcase is character building. They have tuk-tuks here! And spiders as big as my hand (no joke). I'll think of more things as soon as I send this.
Love to all!
I have a mass email I'm sending out now and then (whenever I run into an internet cafe and have free time - the two don't often go together). To save time and because I don't have everyone's email address I thought I'd post the letters here.
Hamjambo!
I finally have a free afternoon to do a proper sit-down email! They keep us very busy here in Kenya, though the general motto is "polepole" and "hakunamatata" ("slow" and "no worries", respectively). One of the first proverbs we learnt was "haraka, haraka, haina baraka" or "hurry, hurry, has no blessing". I love it. When I get back you'll be hearing those A LOT.
The trip here was an adventure and therefore fantastic. The flight to New York got in about 30 min late and half the bags were left in Seattle. I made friends with woman sitting next to me and we had a jolly time running around JFK trying to find her a flight to Burlington and then our bags. The next morning at the Emirates check-in, the attendent swore he'd booked my bag on a flight to Nairobi (ba ha ha ha). My mind innocent of worries, I made my way to the gate to meet the people I'd be spending the next 4 months with. Like I said before there are 17 of us. We hail from all over the US and one Japanese resident (Daniel - he'd never heard of Kakinokizaka but he knew Megoroku). The group really is fantastic. I was surprised how well we fit together.
I'll try to give an abbreviated portrait of everyone, just so you get an idea. Danny is as crazy about linguistics as I am about history and reminds me of my brother. Vicki has the most beautiful curly golden hair I've ever seen; she's gullible, laughs easily and has no colon. Kayleigh (Kay-lee) smiles often and enjoys twirling. Sivan is loud in everything she does, even her movements. Torrie bargains like nobody I've ever seen, except maybe my aunt Kit. Julia is quiet, with a voice like chamomile tea (it nearly puts me to sleep it's that soothing). Reed is witty, tall and does dead-pan quite well. Ashley asks thought provoking questions, is curious and very tall (the perfect dinner partner). She (Shay) says grace before each meal and has a smile I could eat up. Lindsey walks like she knows where she's going and says what she thinks. Hattie has a strong Minnesota accent and perfect cupid's bow lips. Jennifer loves marine archeology and children make her nervous. Jasmine is elegant with perfect poise - she goes to Pomona. Daniel is quiet and speaks Kiswahili with a Japanese accent. Jeanne is freckly and easy to talk to. Gracey has a petite nose, a sunny disposition and always has bug spray with her.
It took us a total 29 hours to get to Mombasa (not counting layovers). Upon arrival I found out my bag had decided to stay in New York and my stomach had decided to have an existential crisis. Hakunamatata! Mombasa looks like a cross between Chang Mai (spelling?) and Macau. For those of you close to Mexico, it reminded me a bit of Tijuana (again, spelling?). It's dirty, busy, noisy but glorious. Goats nibble on heaps of garbage in the streets and fully veiled women walk by with kohl on their eyes. Even though I'm dressed modestly compared to the tourists, I still feel strange. I think I'm going to get a full veil, it'll be so much easier to walk around. There is such a mix of people in Mombasa (and Malindi). Africans, Arabs, Indians, silly tourists and everything in between. People are very friendly but our professors told us to make it clear that we're wanafunzi (students) not tourists. We get more respect and assistence if we respond in Kiswahili, instead of the touristy "jambo!".
I'd like to take a moment to thank my parents for dragging me all over the world; it's made me so much more prepared for what I see here, especially the poverty. Cambodia, Burma, Chang Mai, Guang Dong province, Macau, Hong Kong, even Tokyo - everything makes it easier. However, the 5am call to prayer is still something I have to get used to. I still don't quite understand how anyone could think about anything at 4:45am EVERY DAY, particularly prayer.
There have been so many high points of my trip that I don't know where to start. I saw my first Baobab tree! The drive to Malindi was breath-taking. From grimy Mombasa to fields and fields of jungle (including a couple monkeys swinging in the trees), then fields and fields of produce (I'm not sure what - cashew nuts?), and finally the ocean. Eating with my hands is definitely another high point. We can eat with only our right hand (a challenge for Vicki who's a lefty) and it's so much fun! I don't know how I'm going to make the transition back. Torrie and I visited a primary school in Malindi yesterday. I was impressed with how many students had shoes. The children spoke beautiful English compared to my Kiswahili (I have mastered "I'm called", "I'm from", "I like", "I want" and the general polite greetings/responses but that's it). The class rooms were just cement boxes with large spaces for windows and a doorway. Children shared benches, notebooks, everything. This school was pretty well-furnished compared with other ones I've passed. They had a section for mentally disabled and mentally handicapped students which was unusual. I wrote down the address if anyone wants more information.
Alright, I think I've updated enough. Even though it's only been 6 days since I've arrived it feels much longer. I know I'm missing some things. OH we saw a partial eclipse! Spaghetti is hard to eat with the right hand. Not having a suitcase is character building. They have tuk-tuks here! And spiders as big as my hand (no joke). I'll think of more things as soon as I send this.
Love to all!
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