Day Six

May 4^th, 2010

10:00 AM (Nariobi)

5:00 PM (Pacific)

I woke up this morning to glaring sunlight emanating through my window. I grabbed my cell phone to check the time, and realized it was 9:56 AM. My days of waking up early ended as quickly as it started.

After  a super quick icy shower, I walked into the kitchen to find Winnie picking through rice, grain by grain. I asked her what she was doing, and she replied with a smile, “picking out the bad rice”.  There was enough rice to make an ant hill, and she was going through it, one by one. Apparently the rice here comes with stones, rotten rice, and on the rare occasion, insects. Thankfully it seems like Winnie does a good job at this seemingly tedious task.

10:20 AM

Kent and Alex got up as I walked out the door to go to the school.

The kids all turned and looked at me as I entered the classroom. They all immediately smiled and waved at me as if I’ve been gone for two months. I think it’s impossible to be upset here.

Simon still had trouble with his 3’s. I sat with him for a solid 20 minutes and seemed to get nowhere again. What’s particularly odd is he can do 1’s and 2’s, but 3’s seem to be his kryptonite. Still, so help me, he will write a 3 properly by June 1^st.

The teacher started talking Swahili to the kids. Suddenly, all of them stood up and made a perfect circle. Each of them grabbed a partner and started singing the ABC’s, but not the catchy rhythm I was used to hearing. Kenyans have a different ABC tune… with every fourth consecutive letter being the high note, and the rest of the letters being a low key. What’s also interesting to note is at the fourth consecutive letter, the kids put the back of their hand on their forehead, alternating each hand on every fourth letter. It was actually pretty neat to see and hear.

11:00 AM

Kent and Alex arrived. They were in the kitchen doing some work. I didn’t ask if they were sorting rice, considering I was singing ABC’s and playing with the kids during that time.

Kent asked me if I wanted to go to Junction to get some groceries in the afternoon. I needed to contact my bank to transfer money, so I agreed.

2:00 PM

As soon and Kent, Alex, and I stepped out of the gated fence, a Matatu stopped for us. The conductor pointed at us and told us to hop on. I couldn’t shake the warning from orientation about Matatu’s, so I was a little hesitant about jumping on the bus. Kent reassured me that no harm has ever happened to him on a Matatu, and he’s been here for the past 5 months. Before I could say anything, all of us got pushed into the vehicle as if we were cattle, going to the slaughterhouse.

The bus had enough seatbelts for about 14 people; however, I soon realized seatbelts were irrelevant when it comes to commuting. About 10 minutes into the ride, a family of 4 got into the vehicle, putting the total amount of people on the bus to 18… not including the conductor or the driver. I had to squish to the very back of the bus, almost sitting on a fellow male rider. I had my entire life in the hands of the driver who probably didn’t have his driving certificate. I tried to find Alex and Kent to give them a look of dismay, only to find the family of four blocking my vision. The orientation never warned me about this part.

2:32 PM

We finally arrived at Junction, with my legs feeling like spaghetti noodles. Kent and Alex managed to score a separate seat on the ride, and actually had room for their legs.  They laughed when I told them my seat consisted of a hip bone and a thigh.

I had to call my bank to sort out my financial issues. Since my credit card wasn’t allowing me to get money out, and my debit card wasn’t being accepted anywhere, I was hoping my bank could work some magic and provide me with a solution. Kent told me to go upstairs and use the cybercafé, while they use the grocery store to get supplies. The cost of using the cybercafé was 4 /- per minute compared to my cell phone, which would be the equivalent of 300 /- per minute. Seemed like an easy decision.

2:41 PM

The bank was more than helpful. Although they told me I couldn’t use my credit card to get money, because I needed to get the PIN at home, they did transfer 300 bones from my credit to my debit. They also increased my debit availability to 400 dollars a day, and allowed me to actually get money out. I went to the Junction’s ATM and watched in awe as 10,000 shillings came out. As a side note, 10,000 shillings converts to about 130 Canadian dollars.

List of Thing’s I Forgot

1. 1. Camera Charger
2. 30 days worth of Socks
3. 3. Shaver
4. 4. Enough money

3:00 PM

I met back up with Kent and Alex in the grocery store. Kent had some bread, cookies, and bananas, while Alex had some shampoo, cereal, and mango juice. I followed suit and got some cereal from Egypt which looked like a cheaper version of Reese Pieces cereal. Prices at the Junction were expensive. The box of cereal contained about 600 grams of food, and costs around 600 shillings (8 CDN). Kent said the reason groceries are so expensive here relates to the social aspect of shopping at the Junction. If you can afford to buy bread at the Junction, it means you are well off financially. It’s kind of like wearing a Rolex watch to a party instead of a Timex.

5:00 PM

The ride back from Junction was just as crazy as the ride there. This time, I managed to grab the passenger’s seat, beside the driver. I thought I was lucky until a woman with a huge bag of rice squished beside me, forcing me to move over with the shifter practically in between my legs. Every time the matatu driver shifted into fifth, I got a charlie horse.

5:40 PM

We arrived back at Day Love, with the high school adolescents playing soccer. The field they were playing on had two stainless steel bars coming out of the ground, and almost four muddy puddles. They didn’t seem to care though, every single one of them were having a great time. Kent ran and joined them for a bit while Alex and I went back to the dorm to put all the groceries away.

Winnie left two containers on the table with three plates, culinary, and three cups for tea. I lifted the lid of one of the containers expecting rice; to find a mash potato look-a-like. It tasted like potatoes mixed with beans and cabbage.  Anything was better than rice at this point.

7:00 PM

After dinner, the guys and I went upstairs to the boy’s wing to see what they were up too. As soon as we opened the door to the wing, we heard laughing and music. Kent attached two speakers to his iPod, and a 9 year old boy named Victor was playing the role as the orphanage DJ. About 7 kids were dancing to reggae and hip hop, and doing it flawlessly. I avoided that scene in case they forced me to dance. Instead, I walked down the wing to where John’s bed was located. Despite the loud music, the dancing, the laughing, and the low lighting, John was doing math homework. I walked over to him and asked if he needed any help, thinking it would be some easy addition. I was completely wrong. He handed me this homework page and pointed to the question he was having trouble with. The question looked like this:

Woah

My math skills are somewhat compared to my dancing skills. Clearly John was doing some complex math equations. In fact, that question seemed to be the easiest one on his page. Others involved finding the volume of water needed for a pool, the area of the sidewalk surrounding a building, and one horrific question contained algebra combined with finding the area of a triangle. Not my cup of tea.

John put his math homework away and asked if I was any good with science. From seeing his math homework, I assumed I would be just as bad. John opened his science notebook and asked if I could help with the following question:

I had no flipping idea what any of them were. John could tell that from my baffled facial expression. To my surprise, John started labelling each section of the flower… with ease. “Just watch”, John said calmly as he started pointing at the sections with a pencil, “A is the Petal, B is the Anthers, C is the Stigma, D is the Style, E is the Sepal, and F is the Ovules. Do you understand?” That’s when I realized John is a genius. I asked him if he had any art homework I could help out with. He just laughed.

9:20 PM

The kids all started going to bed. As we were heading back to our dorm, rain started to fall again. Kent said it has been raining at night for the past 4 days. They really don’t lie when they say it’s the rainy season here.

10:00 PM

Downpour again, which means there isn’t any electricity. Kent, Alex and I lit candles and talked about rugby strategies, ideas for the classroom, and about going to Mombasa for the third weekend. All and all, besides John making me feel like a baboon, it was a pretty good day.

Day Five

May 3^rd, 2010

5:00 AM (Nairobi)

12:00 PM (Toronto)

Waking up early isn’t a surprise anymore. Either my internal clock has permanently set to an early bird configuration, or jetlag is still cursing me. It was a blessing in disguise though, as it was a perfect time to go take some night shots of the complex.

As I was creeping around the orphanage with my photography equipment, I noticed that there was a lack of mosquitoes flying around. I guess the high elevation of where I am helps with that. Before I left, I made the mistake of researching some African diseases in case if I got sick. Some were downright terrifying, like Riverside Blindness; where one completely loses their sight, permanently in some cases, from a single bite of an infected mosquito. Other diseases were common, like malaria and influenza. But one that stood out and haunts my dreams to this day is Ebola. Apparently, if you get bitten by a mosquito infected with the Ebola bacteria, you can die within 24 hours. Medical experts aren’t sure where the victims contract the disease because it kills too quickly. Kenya happens to be east of Uganda, where most of the cases occur. Thanks Wikipedia… thanks.

At one point, I think I may have been perceived to be a burglar to a girl who was unlocking the main door. I was squatting in a dark corner, trying to get a cool shot of the contrast of street light on stone masonry, when I heard a gasp. I looked in the direction where the sound came from, and an adolescent girl started running back towards the main building. I didn’t hesitate to inform her who I am, because quite frankly, I didn’t want to spend my first day at the orphanage in a Kenyan prison.

5:55 AM

Decided to have a nice, warm shower as a way to start my first day.

5:56 AM

I now know what it’s like to shower in Arctic water. I think the hairs on my arms will never go back down.

6:21 AM

As I was eating my breakfast and drinking some tea, Winnie arrived and said to me “Haburni Asiburni” which either means good morning or put on a shirt.

10:24 AM

When I arrived yesterday, Winnie referred to Alex and I as her sons. I didn’t take it literally, figuring it’s just what Kenyans call guests in their homes. But no, Winnie actually treats us as if we were her offspring. In fact, she makes our meals, cleans the kitchen and the family room, and even wakes Kent up when 10 O’Clock comes around. Her mothering was so good that I actually considered buying her a mother’s day card.

11:00 AM

Kent and Alex finally got ready. Today’s plan was to tour the complex and help in the class room.

The complex is actually pretty big. The accommodation is split into two wings. One wing is where all the boys sleep, and the other is, as you probably assumed, where the girls sleep. Each room has about 20 beds, and each room has the same age group. In total, about 40 kids sleep overnight.

The ground floor has the grand hall, where a pile of 12 foot rusted rebar’s lay, and a kitchen. Next to the orphanage is a wood shop, the elementary school (which turns into the church on Sundays), an office, and a high school. It’s like a miniature community.

11:32 AM

The classroom had about 15 kids and 2 teachers. Although it seemed like a good ratio, there was a serious lack of resources. One boy with a scar on his cheek, named Brian, was using a pencil sharpened down to its last inch of wood.  Situated around the classroom were barely legible Bristol boards which depicted shapes, colours, numbers, and letters. I picked up one science textbook that looked like it has been through a tropical hurricane, and noticed it was published in 1988. I wonder if they still think Pluto is a planet.

The children were learning how to write numbers. I sat down next to Simon (“snotty nose”) and noticed he was having some trouble writing 3’s properly. Instead of writing 3 the right way, he either wrote it as if it was a zero, upside down, or like the letter ‘m’. I helped him for a solid 20 minutes and got nowhere. Simon couldn’t grasp the concept of writing three the proper way, even if I wrote them down slowly in front of him. Teaching requires patience… too much patience.

Suddenly I remembered how I learned how to write letters and numbers properly. When I was little, my mom used to dot the shape of the letter and my mission was to connect the dots. After doing this for months, I finally could write my name without the assistance of scattered dots. Using this strategy, I dotted an entire column of 3’s for Simon to practice. New goal: get Simon to write a 3 properly before the month is over.

12:45 PM

Kent, Alex and I went back to the apartment and had lunch. The plate contained rice, cabbage, beans, and more rice. Kent told us that meat is a treat, and we probably will only get it twice a week. Great, I’m going to weigh as much as a feather by June.

1:02 PM

We went outside and played with the kids at the park. Unlike schools in Canada, the kids get three 1 hour breaks in a day. Considering they’re in class from 7:30 AM to 4:30 PM, they probably need those long breaks.

I spent most of the break lifting kids up in the air and pushing them on the swing (this time, I made a strict line policy to avoid any more swing-child collisions). I got tired within 15 minutes.

6:51 PM

The majority of the afternoon was spent teaching Simon how to write a proper 3, and learning how to dance properly. Kenyans love to dance and my dancing skills are something you would see on what not to do in most dancing demonstrations. It’s a bad equation that results in humiliation.

Dinner was rice, carrots, pita bread, beans, and more rice. After dinner, I asked Kent if I could borrow any throw-a-way razors he had. The scruff that was growing on my face was beginning to make me look like a pirate. Luckily, his old Canadian roommate left 2 razors and shaving cream.

List of Thing’s I Forgot

1. 1. Camera Charger
2. 30 days worth of Socks
3. 3. Shaver
4. Enough money

8:21 PM

Like a bolt from the blue, it started torrential down pouring outside. Within minutes, water started leaking through the bottom of the door, slowly submerging the entire family room. I ran into Kent’s room to warm him about the miniature tidal wave that was slowly making its way to his room, to find him laying down, watching Step Brothers. My warming proved to be ineffective. Kent just laughed and said the flooding happens every major storm, and just make sure none of your clothes are on the ground in the family room. I asked him if I should worry about my clothes on the ground in my room, but he just shrugged. ‘Nonchalantancy’ seems to be his philosophy.

8:42 PM

Power went out in the entire complex. Kent didn’t act surprised when it happened. He said it happens pretty often, and at one point, it went 2 days without power. Hakuna Matata, he yawned.

9:00 PM

If this water keeps flooding in here, I might sleep in wet sheets for the first time since kindergarten.

Day Four (Part Two)

May 2^nd, 2010

5:11 PM (Nairobi)

10:11 AM (Toronto)

You might get sick of hearing me say this, but Kenyan driving should be in the next Jackass movie. At one point, I saw two goats cross the road. Instead of stopping, cars zoomed by on either side. Seriously, do you need a licence here?

5:34 PM

Our driver took a right into a gated yard. In front of us were three buildings. One looked like a church, another was a school, and by elimination, the final building must be the orphanage. As the van ascended up the rocky road, about 20 kids started running towards the vehicle, all smiling and waving their hands. The van stopped and the kids opened the door. Every single one of them wanted to shake my hand and give me a hug. This is probably what Zac Efron feels like.

Sort of like this... kinda

Alex and I got out of the van and the kids took my luggage. I kind of felt bad watching one kid about the size of Tickle-Me-Elmo try and carry my 80 pound luggage bag. I tried to help out, but he smiled and told me in Swahili/English that I’ve been doing too much work to carry the bag. I guess sitting down and waiting on a plane is sort of like work.

The Orphanage was actually a nice complex. Certainly, I was a victim of media when it comes to depicting Africa. What I expected was to be surrounded by desert terrain, with no sense of a modern world anywhere. How wrong I was.

The kids brought us to the left section of the building; the volunteer wing. The same kid who was heaving my luggage opened the door to the building and my jaw opened with surprise. Not only was it big enough to rival any hotel room in Canada, but our apartment had a kitchen, a family room, 2 bedrooms, a separate room for a shower, and  a bathroom with a toilet. The family room even had a flat screen television and four comfy couches. I was baffled by how wrong my expectations were.

I gave Elmo an appreciation high five and started unpacking my clothes in the room. Which, by the way I was sharing with Alex because there were two beds. I didn’t mind though. Alex was really quiet, but not one of those creepy “I think he may be a serial killer” quiet. He just kept to himself, which I’d rather have than someone who didn’t know when to shut up.

5:50 PM

As I finished unpacking the last of my clothes, there was a knock on the door. An elderly woman with a bright purple dress and a big waist opened the door. She told Alex and I that we were most welcome here in a Swahili accent. She introduced herself as Winnie, and asked if we were hungry. She could tell by my rapid reply that I was. She pointed to the living room table, which had two containers, culinary, and two glasses of water. I walked over and lifted the lid on one of the containers to find white rice mixed with carrots. The other had a stir fry of veggies and steak. Needless to say, it was fantastic. I think I’m going to like it here.

6:52 PM

I finished unpacking most of my luggage under my bed. The room I’m situated in is about what you would find in a typical college dorm. Space is certainly a commodity, one that Alex and I don’t have much of. We did, however, make a system so we can manoeuvre in and out of the bedroom without having to hop over bags and clothes. I laid out a blanket under my bed and organized all my clothes, folded neatly of course, under my bed. Alex, on the other hand, was smart and brought coat hangers and hung all of his clothes on little hooks that were luckily on his side. Once we were happy with our organization, we decided to explore the complex.

Our plan did not last long. The moment Alex and I walked out of our apartment, kids surrounded us. One taller boy, who I imagine is the leader of the group, introduced himself as John. He was almost as tall as I am, and towered over all the other children. I shook his hand firmly and introduced myself. He then went through the names of the 25 other children. I can barely remember what I ate for break feast this morning, let alone remember the names of all these kids. Fortunately, most of the names were biblical and western friendly. One boy with dirt on his nose grabbed my hand and introduced himself as Kevin. I suddenly realized it was the same kid who brought all my luggage in my apartment. I think I’ll remember that.

7:20 PM

We spent the majority of the evening walking around the outside of the building with the children. The kids seem to have a lot to play with. Including a somewhat muddy field, dusty toys from the 90’s (I saw some old school power rangers toys), and a playground so dangerous, it would make the average Canadian mother shriek in horror. I’m talking about a swing with its seat tied together by fraying twine, a horizontal round-a-bout that is just resting on soft soil and occasionally falls if you put too much weight on one side and a slide with a few broken pieces of glass at the bottom. I’m not exaggerating here.

Dangerous is an overstatement

Moments entering the park, about 13 kids demanded that I push them on the deathtrap they call a ‘swingu’. I walked over with them practically hanging off my arms and agreed to give each individual 10 seconds of pushing. A little girl with braided hair hoped on the chain and smiled at me as I started to push. Within seconds, the kids started arguing over where they were in line. The first causality was Kevin, when another boy with snot hanging off his nose shoved him into the direct path of the trajectory of the girl I was pushing. Kevin got a flying swing-kick into the stomach and fell down like a sack of potatoes. I stopped the swing and expected to hear my first case of African child cry, but was shocked to find Kevin getting up and walking over to the swing line… without tears. African children are sure tougher than any you would find in Canada. I guess playing in parks with glass does that to you.

7:21 PM

Before I could discipline Snotty Nose, all the kids started screaming and running towards the gate. I looked up and saw another Muzungu (“white man”) walking up the rocky road. Although it was hard to see what he looked like because the kids were surrounding him as if he was a magnet, I’m sure he was around my age. Kevin, with even more dirt now on his nose, told me that he was Kent, a volunteer who has been at the Orphanage for the past four months. Jesus, this guy must be a big brother to these kids. He walked up to where Alex and I were standing and shook our hands. “Usually they [the kids] aren’t this excited to see me, but I haven’t been here for a week”, Kent said. He was from New Zealand and loved rugby. From the few conversations we had, he seemed hilarious. He looked at Snotty Nose and yelled, “Simon! How many times do I have to tell you to use tissues, it looks like someone threw a green chunky custard at your nose.”

9:24 PM

The kids all went to bed. Alex, Kent, and I sat down in the family room and talked about pretty much everything. From his stories, he seemed to have lived everywhere.  When he was 6, he moved from New Zealand to Japan. Then after 4 years, he moved to Thailand, and finally moved back to New Zealand. I asked him if he was fluent in all those languages, and he causally remarked, “nah, I forgot”. In fact, he said he wanted to forget learning Japanese because when he lived there from grades 6 to 9, he was bullied because he was the only white kid in his class. Imagine the plot from The Karate Kid, but minus all the Kung Fu, and that’s pretty much Kent’s Jr. High years. He definitely has a A-style personality.

10:00 PM

Tiredness overwhelmed my consciousness. I barely had the energy to pop my malaria pill.

Day Four (Part One)

May 2^nd, 2010

6:25 AM (Nairobi)

11:25 PM (Toronto)

Jetlag is finally behind me. Last night I slept like a drunk baby.

I think my dad’s habits are wearing off on me. I woke up at 5:21 AM this morning with zero tiredness. I then got up, made myself some break feast (not really make… just buttered some bread and drank some water). I love the mornings here though. Everything gets so bright in seconds.

I noticed that every window at Virginia’s house has bars attached. Obviously it’s to prevent burglary, but if there was a fire, I think I may be the only one to slip in between the bars because I weigh 60 pounds.

So today’s game plan sounds exciting. VICDA is going to be picking us up at 9:00 AM to go tour the downtown sector of Nairobi. From there, we are visiting the main offices to get a local cell phone and pay for any Safari’s. The cost for the one I want to go on (which is a 3 day tour of the Rift Valley, camping outside over night in the wilderness) is about 350 USD. I don’t have that much cash on me, so I’m praying I can use my visa card or else no Safari for me. I knew I should have brought more money.

After we tour the offices, we are going on a miniature walking Safari in the Northern part of the city. In this Safari, we get to see elephants, tigers, and probably some kick-ass looking birds. I’m pretty hyped for it.

When the Safari is over, we then go to our volunteer placements. Should be a fun-filled day.

List of Thing’s I Forgot

1. 1. Camera Charger
2. 30 days worth of Socks
3. Shaver
4. Enough money

2:22 PM

I did something today which I never thought would be possible in my life. We were at a zoo, touring around looking at animals you would see in The Lion king, when our guide stopped us in front of the Cheetah cage. The guide, who had the biggest smile I’ve ever seen, opened the gate and asked if we wanted to come in and pet the cat. I’ve seen enough National Geographic episodes to see what usually happens to Cheetah’s prey, so I was a little hesitant. I wasn’t the only one either. The Vancouver girl looked terrified and the Americans stated something about not wanting to lose their arms. The 45 year-old Australian, whom I’m pretty sure is dating another volunteer who is half his age (seriously, I was informed from a peer that they are a couple, but you’d think they would be father-daughter…. the girl is 24!), stepped forward and suddenly everyone followed. As soon as I stepped into the cage, there was a Cheetah about 2 feet away from me. I literally had to step over the cat to proceed into the cage. The guide then took our photos with us petting the Cheetah. I kind of wondered if Cheetah’s always hand on their feet, but then again, if I tested that experiment, I’d be the next Meo-Mix.

The tour of the zoo was awesome though. We saw a male Lion who wasn’t sleeping. And although no one else heard it, I swore I heard a Hyena laugh.

2:56 PM

Our driver then took us to the Junction, which is a mall that would make you think you’re in Toronto. Even the people who walk around are mostly white.

There’s a coffee shop called the Java House which offers free Wi-Fi. It’s about as modern as you can get.

Unfortunately for me, my VISA didn’t allow me to get any money out because I don’t have the credit PIN.

As I was walking out of the Junction, I heard this treat from the Americans:

American 1: Did I ever tell you the time when I finally understood E=MC2?

American 2: haha yea that was an epic day.

American 1: Einstein would be proud of me.

4:21 PM

The driver brought us to the VICDA head office to finalize our placements and organize any safaris we wanted to take. There was a 3 day safari which caught my eye. For only 350 USD, you go into the wild with a tour guide, a tent, food, and any other supplies you need. Everything seemed legit besides one minor factor. I didn’t have enough money on me to pay for it because m y VISA hates me. I asked the guy in charge of organizing safaris, Edward “Mr. Safari”, if I could pay the reminder 250 dollars later. He gave me a judging look. Nevertheless, he agreed.

4:46 PM

While still waiting for the volunteers to be finished finalizing placements, I got that “I need to get to a toilet immediately” sensation. I ran around the office, looking for anything that remotely looked like a bathroom but had no luck. I interrupted Edward as he was explaining a Mt. Kenya hike to one of the Americans and asked if there was a bathroom in the building. He replied using charades and mostly non-verbal communication that there was one outside the office, down the hall, and to the right. I walked quickly to where I gathered he explained when I found it. Of course, to my horror, the door was locked.

I walked even quicker back to the office and bumped into the driver (Tony or Anthony). Once he saw my panic look, he reached into his pocket and gave me the skeleton key to the washroom. Running seemed like a good idea at this point.

4:49 PM

I should have known: no toilet paper. Now I’m one more sock down from the few I already have.

4:52 PM

We’re on our way. The same driver who gave me the key loaded up my bags into the mini bus. The two Americans, another named Alex from New Zealand, and myself, all squeezed into the vehicle. About 40 minutes into the drive, we started driving by some slums. Little homemade shacks about the size of a garbage container had many people situated inside. Some of the shacks had fruit for sale, while others simply had clothes hung by a string. Alex looked uncomfortable.

We turned left into the real slums. There were hundreds of muddy people walking around, yelling “Mizguno” at us and smiling. Two boys were sitting against a dirty house, selling bananas. The van had to drive super slowly because the roads were so fragmented and weathered. The suspension on the van was surely getting a workout. Puddles scattered across the slum, while people cleaned their shoes and clothes in them.

The Americans were getting pretty nervous. Forehead kept on saying “sooooo this is where we are going to be…” while the other one kept acting fidgety. I really don’t know why they were acting so nervous, considering it’s Africa.  It’s not like they were randomly dropped here. They had to sign up and read the volunteer package that told you what to expect. Then again, it’s Americans I’m talking about.  The van stopped in front of a clinic. The driver turned and smiled at us and said, “Welcome home”.

Anthony or Tony told Alex and I that we were going someplace else. This was the HIV clinic. The Americans grabbed their luggage and left without saying goodbye. Alex still seemed nervous, so I introduced myself to put him at ease. I could tell he was a pretty reserved person. He didn’t really talk during the trip or the orientation.  Alex volunteered in Rwanda 2 months before, and is spending the next two months in Kenya. He seems like a straight shooter. He will have to be my best friend for the next month.

Day Two

April 30^th, 2010

2:09 AM Pacific Time

9:09 AM Nairobi Time

Right now, I’m at the Amsterdam airport after what seemed like a 30 hour flight. At one point, there was enough turbulence to make me think I was on a Disney roller coaster ride.  The crying babies I mentioned earlier happened to be surrounding me on the plane. I was right in the middle of the Bermuda triangle of crying infants. Luckily the flight serves free beer.

The food, surprisingly enough, was outstanding. At first glance, it looked like something Neal Armstrong would have eaten on the Moon, but after a spoonful of airport beef, it was delicious.

See? The box wasn't lying

The Amsterdam airport is extremely easy to navigate around. Imagine the shape of a boomerang, and that’s pretty much what it is built like. For someone who usually gets lost in a Wal-Mart, this was a blessing.

9:54 AM

Found my gate, D03. My flight doesn’t board for another 36 minutes.

I asked a Kenyan man who was reading the newspaper if this was the right gate. He smiled, and told me I made it to the right place. No Fiji for me.

The Kenyan Man, named Elijah, told me some advice when I’m in Kenya so I don’t get kidnapped to Tanzania. It was very helpful. One of his most important piece of advice was, whatever you do, do not ride the Matutu’s after the sun goes down. I held back the question if there’s vampires and asked the more general question: why not?  Apparently that’s when tourists get robbed blindly, and on the occasional time, get kidnapped. I didn’t need to write that piece of advice down.  In case you’re wondering, a Matutu is a bus which is privately operated. Nairobi has hundreds that travel the main roads which pick people up whenever you are. For a cheap price, you can get from A to B easily, as long as you overlook the whole mugging factor.

Elijah was more than helpful. He talked about his three kids, his home in Texas, why he immigrated to the States, and some language tips. We exchanged numbers in case I needed any help. What a friendly guy.

10:11 AM

Well my laptop battery just gave me the middle finger and told me it has 5 minutes of battery life left. See you guys in Nairobi.

10:24 PM

The second flight from Amsterdam to Nairobi was actually longer than Toronto to Holland. Good news though, the flights are OVER! Thank god. Luckily, I found a camera store that sold chargers, so that’s all solved. However, I quickly checked my cell phone texts and realized I left my shaver at home too. If I could grow a beard, that would have been a problem.

Arriving in Nairobi was surreal. As the plane was landing, the sun was setting, igniting the entire sky with an orange and yellow hue.  It wasn’t as epic as one you would see in the final scene in The Last Crusade, but it was up there.

The airport is extremely small, with what seems like no air conditioning. The two friends I made on the flight (one 19 year old Canadian girl, who lived in Japan and then moved to Tanzania, named Cohl, (pronounced ‘Cole’), and another American who looks exactly like Erin from The Office (and oddly enough, acts like her too). They both stood with me in the customs and VISA line, as it moved super slowly. Like the Toronto customs experience, all went well. The guard who was supposed to be checking if I was bringing in illegal substances was telling me jokes about Kenyan life. What particularly made me happy was the visa price was only 25 USD and was easy to get compared to the 40 Canadian dollars if I got it back home.

I said my goodbyes to my newly made minute friends, struggled with my extremely heavy luggage, and started my prayers that some Kenyan will have my name on a sign in the international arrivals. When I walked out to the arrivals, there were hundreds of people with signs. It almost felt like a protest, but instead of political slurs, there were names of various travelers. I stood in the middle of the gate and quickly scanned the crowd, looking for my name. My first glance around the mob ended with no success. My stomach dropped a little as I did a re-scan, squinting more closely at all the Kenyan drivers. Finally, I spotted my name in the very corner with friendly looking gentlemen, holding a sign with my name along with 4 other names below it. I heaved my 80 pounds of luggage over to the man and introduced myself, along with a subtle sigh of relief. The man, whose name is either Tony or Anthony, gave me a welcome note and told me to wait over by the exit. Easy does it.

10:44 PM

I waited for about 15 minutes before the four other volunteers emerged from the gates. The first volunteer was a Vancouver born 21 year old girl, who was doing the same program as I am (orphanage). She goes to Charlton University in Ottawa, taking journalism. She also happens to love soccer. In fact, she loves soccer so much; it pays for her University fees. Lucky.

We chit-chatted very briefly before the next volunteer arrived. This time, she was a Vancouver born 25 year old, who was spotting a Canucks t-shirt. She is going to be volunteering in the DPI camp, which was the program I originally wanted but was too young to get in. Judging by her virtue, she seems very cool. Not only did she attend the 2010 games as a volunteer, but she is traveling around Africa after her placement to further help out the people. Mother Teresa would be impressed.

Finally the last two arrived. Both are male and from Ohio. Their working with the AIDS program and trying to document everything with the purpose of bringing awareness back to the States. They seemed alright, despite them immediately cracking brainless jokes about the people they sat beside in their flight. I’m pretty sure they are a couple though, as one of them was reading Roses for Dummies, not like there’s anything wrong with that.

We all made our way across the parking lot and loaded our luggage in a convertible Dodge Caravan. The way in which the cars were parked in the parking lot kind of looked like what scrambled eggs look like in a frying pan. There seemed like there was no cohesive order, yet people were getting around alright.

I had no idea where we were heading. The introductory note said we were either staying with a host family or a hotel during the 2 day orientation. Seeing in how it was already 11:00 PM, I didn’t really want to go to a host family. However, that’s exactly where we were going after Tony or Anthony informed us about halfway into the drive.

10:52 PM

I’ve seen some pretty crazy drivers in my time. From watching Belgium’s drive across sidewalks to any of those intense COPS road chases you see on TV. But driving in the streets of Nairobi is utterly insane. We were waiting in some traffic when all sudden a bus and three taxi drivers drove past us on the side boulevard, dodging trees and ditches. Apparently, you can create your own roads here.  One of the Americans asked Tony or Anthony if there are a lot of road collisions, which he replied in broken English, “of course not! Everyone drives with the same insanity”. I counted three stalled vehicles on the way, with one poor Toyota being stuck in a covert gap. What I didn’t count? Traffic lights… there are hardly any! And for the few that we did see, Tony or Anthony drove right through, even though it was red. Insurance here must cost an arm and a leg.

11:22 PM

We arrived in a Suburb of Nairobi at our temporary accommodation. A Kenyan woman named Virginia greeted us and helped me move my luggage inside. Walking inside, the house was very cosy. It had 4 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, and everything modern an average North American house would have. Virginia said she had to leave for an hour and told us to make ourselves at home (she spoke almost perfect English). It was kind of awkward once she left, seeing in how there were 5 white North American strangers, staying in an empty Kenyan house. It was kind of like the potential first episode of RealWorld: Nairobi.

Still waiting to hear back from MTV

11:56 PM

Virginia returned with bread and tea that tasted fantastic.

The two Americans and I shared a single bedroom, while the two girls stayed in the master bedroom. I took my Malaria pill and tried my best to go to bed, despite feeling awake enough to run 20 kilometres.

List of Thing’s I Forgot

1. 1. Camera Charger
2. 30 days worth of Socks
3. Shaver

Day Three

May 1^st, 2010

5:22 AM (Nairobi)

10:22 PM (April 30^th, Pacific)

Boy did I not sleep last night. If it wasn’t the lone mosquito that kept on singing in my ear, it was the two Americans who whispered to each other for the beginning hours of the night. I did manage to sleep a couple of hours, but ended up waking up at 3:22 AM and laid there like a starfish. Around 5:00 AM the two Americans woke up and we started chatting about Healthcare and theme parks. Not exactly the thing I wanted to do at 5 in the morning, but my brain was definitely not going back to sleep.

I got totally up and brought my PC down to the kitchen and listened to the street life that slowly woke up around me. What I find remarkable is the swiftness of the sun here. It doesn’t believe in Dawn, as for one minute it was dark, and suddenly it was bright out.

Virginia got up around 6:00. She asked if I slept okay, which I lied and said yea. She said good and asked if I wanted to have a shower. Great idea I thought, sitting in the airport for 20 hours in the same clothes isn’t exactly sanitary. She told me to grab the kitchen bucket and start to warm water for the shower on the stove. If you want warm water here, you have to work for it. In fact, you can’t just stand under a faucet while steamy water comes spraying out. What I’m going to have to do is stand in the tub, and use a sponge to clean myself from the water in the bucket. I’m not complaining, just as long as the water is hot, I’ll be fine.

6:06 AM

I don’t watch The Big Bang Theory, but I have heard of the characters. The two Americans I’m glued to the hip too are exactly like that tall guy with the big forehead and the other guy with the glasses. Their conversations make me wish I had a voice recorder just so you guys could hear this phenomena replica. I do remember one conversation they had this morning that kind of went along like this:

American 1 (“Glasses”): Dude, I could drink infinite Diet Coke.

American 2 (“Forehead”): And accommodate enough Aspartame to make your liver explode.

American 1: I’ll just drink double infinity to fix it.

American 2: Dude, double infinity doesn’t exist. That’s like saying going to the end of the space multiplied by two.

American 1: Considering I would be coming back, that would be double infinity.

American 2: There’s not enough fuel in this planet or the technology for you to accomplish that task

American 1: You probably didn’t hear, but NASA has just recently created…….

At this point, I had already turned on my iPod.

After a drive through the city, we went to a Hotel for orientation. During this time, the members of VICDA explained safety concerns, travelling tips, customs, some language, and basic survival skills. Despite being fatigued, I listened profusely because the information may one day save my life. Around the table were 14 other volunteers: 2 volunteers from Vancouver (why are so many people volunteering from Vancouver?), 4 from Australia, 2 from America, and the remaining 2 from New Zealand.  With a delicious lunch, and some great weather, my first full day in Nairobi was pretty great. In the afternoon when orientation was over, the 5 of us walked to a local supermarket to use the internet. Every minute costs 20 shillings (which converts to about 25 cents, and here’s a little more trivia: the currency symbol here is “-/”  ).  I quickly checked my facebook and logged off. One of the Vancouver girls used it for 40 minutes, apparently messaging her entire family tree. Then she noticed that she didn’t bring any money, so being the nice guy, I spotted her a smile and 120 Shillings. Luckily she’s cute.

One more day of orientation and my official program starts. Basically what I’m doing for the next 28 days is working at an Orphanage in the western section of the city. Although my specific duties are still hazy, I know I will be teaching the kids, playing soccer, building extra rooms (the site is under construction and needs more help), and basic cleaning. Doesn’t sound too tough. I’m just worried about the whole culture barrier thing. My Swahili is completely rough…. so I best practice before I go try and teach. Thanks to The Lion King, Hakanu Matata is pretty much the only words I know. Actually let me test myself:

Very good: Sana Maznuri

Very: Sana

Good: Maznuri

Hello: Jambo

Thanks: Sante

Sorry: Pole

Slow: Pole Pole

Yup, that’s the extent of my language knowledge. It’s about time for some Kenyan dinner and perhaps more Swahili practice afterword.

10:14 PM

Probably for the first since I was 6, I’m actually tired before 12:00 AM. I forced myself not to snooze during the day so I could catch up to this time zone (at one point I failed: during the car ride home from Orientation, my eyes cemented themselves shut).  My goal is to get to sleep by 11:00 PM in order to have maximized energy for my first day at the orphanage. Nevertheless, there’s a bird right outside my window that has tremendous determination to have consistency with his chirps.  Seriously, every 3 seconds he does his ringtone. Why buy a metronome when you can just adopt this determined bird.

10:25 PM

I’m going to kill this bird.

10:38 PM

I think I’m going to miss the two Americans tomorrow. Listening to their conversations and stories makes me chuckle subtly. What I noticed is, whenever Forehead is about to tell a story, he always begins with “did I ever tell you the time where I…”. Here’s an example from earlier.

American 2 (“Forehead”)- did  I ever tell you the time where my buddy got a DUI and his grandma gave him 5 dollars?

American 1 (“Glasses”): *snickers* what?! No!

American 2: Yea, my friend got busted driving under the influence, and when he told his grandma, she gave him 5 dollars!

American 1: Is she going through the first stages of dementia?

American 2: Oh most definitely, she probably thought he got some academic award. Haha.

What I find odd is Glasses finds the story surprising even though Forehead pretty much told the punch line at the very beginning.

10:42 PM

I think Glasses may have seen what I’ve been writing about. I thought I was being sneaky, but at one point I caught him over my shoulder reading what probably will make him cry tonight. About 5 minutes ago, I saw with my peripheral vision Glasses talking to Forehead in a charade-like whisper. Unless it was some flirting going on, I think it was probably about me.

Day One

April 29^th, 2010

4:00 PM Pacific Time

11:00 PM Nairobi Time

You know that feeling you get when you realize you forgot something important? Now imagine that feeling, but put yourself at an international airport and amplify that by a 30 day trip. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I forgot the mother of things…. my camera charger. It had to be the charger too… if it was anything else I probably could have gotten a replacement.  Where I wonder, do they sell a Nikon ion D70 camera charger in Africa? Is there a Kenyan version of Kijiji?

Despite that horrifying realization, so far everything is going smoothly on my pre-flight scramble.  Customs seemed like a breeze compared to my earlier experiences with the frisking gantlet. I managed to not only beat the metal detector at ease, but I also got by in approximately 21 minutes. As a bonus, I avoided cuddling with the metal detector pad.

Currently I’m walking around with what feels like an elephant attached to my back. In retrospect,  17.5 inch laptops seem like a great idea for watching movies, but rather a dim-witted decision bringing to the other side of the world. In fact, I wonder if they even have electronic outlets to charge my laptop at the Orphanage. Seeing in how my laptop battery has a life expectancy equivalent to a rat whose about to touch a mousetrap, this may be my first and only digital journey entry.

Shit! It just occurred to me another important thing I forgot. I know I remembered packing socks, but I think I only packed enough for about 3 days. For those who know me, socks to me are like acorns to squirrels…  I always leave them in places and forget to get them later. Let me emphasize this… I seriously lose socks. You know how every Christmas you usually get a massive pack of socks from your parents or significant other? I’d be lucky if that 16 pair pack of socks makes it to Valentine’s Day.  How ironic is that I only bring 3 days worth of socks when there’s probably enough socks under my bed to quilt a king-sized blanket. Perhaps I should start a list of important objects I forgot: socks & a battery charger. Oh boy this trip is going to be something else.

4:26 PM

I’m currently sitting at Gate C34, with a bunch of attractive girls talking about London restaurants. Pretty sure one looked at me and smiled. Is it too late to change my destination to England?

4:41 PM

Looking at my boarding pass, they should be calling for my flight in about 20 minutes. Nothing’s better than a red eye flight with crying babies. Yes, in case you’re wondering, there are 3 babies around me right now, going on my flight. My iPod better have enough decibel power to drown out the crying squeals of babies or else I may have to knock myself unconscious.

Here’s some info on my 20 hour flight. I leave Toronto at 5:55 PM and arrive in Amsterdam at 7:00 AM the following day. Since there’s a 7 hour time jump, my brain will still think it’s 1:00 AM, then in actuality it will be 8:00 AM. To make matters even better, I then have to find my respective African departure terminal, get to my gate, and go through customs, at which point I might collapse from exhaustion. You might be thinking, why don’t you just drink some java to perk you up? Well my friends, the malaria medication I’m currently on (Malarone if you’re wondering), has it in bold that I shouldn’t take any caffeine to “not irritate the stomach lining”. You never mess with instructions when it’s in bold. Never.

From Amsterdam, I then go on an 8 hour flight and arrive in Nairobi at 7:00 PM. I’m crossing my fingers that I see some guy with my name written on a piece of paper when I arrive in the international arrivals. If not, then for the rest of the month of May, I’ll be like Tom Hanks in The Terminal.

4:51 PM

Boarding time. By this time tomorrow, I’ll be somewhere over Egypt… unless I screw up my departure gate and fly to Fiji instead. Wish me luck.