Nairobi

I flew into Nairobi Kenya today. Having some exposure to Africa I had a mental image of things I had seen before only multiplied knowing that it is the largest city in the country. Once again my eyes were opened even wider as nothing was as I expected. Nairobi is a city similar to ones we all know, busy streets filled with cars, large buildings and stores, apartments and housing tracks crowded with people all over, combined with the reality of a third wold country staring you in the face. 

Through town you can see business men and women walking the streets and along side of them a man pulling a massive cart filled with produce, construction materials or water jugs; looking like some sort of animal heaving as much as possible from one destination to the next. The roads seem to be without rules. When in a traffic jam,  no need to worry, you can always pass on either side of the shoulder, go off roading or use sidewalks if needed. Air quality is not something anyone has any concept of, I’ve never seen so much exhaust in the air or trash on the ground. Where ever you are there is sure to be goats, sheep, cows and chickens roaming. To be honest, its all together a bit out of control. 

Staying at a guesthouse for one night before being put in my placement a few hours away, I had some time to get to know a new group of people. Everyone starting at the same time but all placed differently so no need to get attached. Some of us getting the itch to explore the area we set out on a short walk to the market. Feeling like a celebrity, eyes gawk at the only white people for miles. The word Muzungo is shouted from all directions (swahili for white people). Collecting kids behind us as we walk. 

Our return home was just as eventful but not nearly as amusing. Just before entering the gated community to the house we were staying in a man just steps in front of us collapsed, started ciezing and foaming at the mouth. In shock, we had no idea what to do. Looking around all the locals continued to walk past, most not even giving a second thought about it. It felt like we just stared forever waiting for him to move, then decided to go consult with the women of the guesthouse. Shocking to us all, they said, “just leave him, it happens all the time... he’ll be fine”. It may be normal for Kenya, but it still didn’t settle well with me. I stepped outside again to see if he had moved multiple times in the next hour, nothing. Eventually he was gone. 

Today was just an introduction to some of the situations I will see here. Not things that I want to get used to but things that I will have to accept. 

Only a Few Days Left

My last weekend in Thailand was outstanding. Shelley and I headed up to Chiang Mai one more time, the second biggest city in Thailand to accomplish the last two activities on our list of things to do. 

We started the weekend by heading to a small town called Chiang Dow were we had heard about a must see cave that was over six miles long. Making our way through a crap-hole of a town, working our way to find a bungalow guest house we had heard of, hoping the map we were following was steering us correctly we found ourselves on a long unpromising road. After just a mile or so a local woman driving a truck asked us where we were going and told us to hop in back. We were headed in the right direction but would have been walking for hours if we had not hitched a ride. She took us deep into the Thai jungle in between the mountains, not far from the caves and dropped us off right in front of our bungalow destination. Thrilled with our location and ready to settle in and settle down we unpacked for the night, showered up and set off to see a bit of the area. It was a well kept tourist secret and a fantastic find for us. Not very far down the road from our guesthouse was the temple of serenity and determination hidden in a mountain. The name describes it perfectly. There was not a visible soul around and it was perfectly peaceful and quiet with only noises of nature around. The temple was built up high on a mountain and took over 700 stairs to get up to it and along the way had inspirational encouraging words of determination and where it will get you. In this case it  took us to an unbelievable view of the valley and beyond. It was not the mellow tour we were expecting after a long day but what a sight to see. Worth every step taken we found part of the temple built into the rock of the mountain and even higher up was a prayer room and look out ledge. Almost sundown the weather was cooling to a perfect temperature, I’m not sure if we could have planned a more perfect moment to remember the best Thailand has to offer. 

Thinking we had already had a successful evening we were making our way back to our guesthouse keeping an eye open for a restaurant when we came along another beautiful guesthouse hidden by nature. Curious of what it had to offer we stopped in to check out a menu. Once again quite as could be the path lined with small candles lead to a beautiful patio restaurant where we saw the name of the Guesthouse “The Nest”. As Shelley was faithful about reading every guide book in sight, it rang a bell for her immediately. The restaurant at The Nest was to be one of the very best in Thailand. We sat down having the place all to ourselves and had an incredible dinner. Feeling like we splurged far more than average we had to laugh that our 5 star meal was still no more than $7 a plate. How hard will it be to return to our homeland when that is sounding over the top and more than the cost of our room for the night. 

The following day we didn’t waste anytime. Starting out with a bike ride to view more of the area that we were so lucky to find and then into the cave. What a fascinating creation made by mother nature. Not only did it seem like it went on indefinitely but the rooms within it were huge and unique. 

The following day we returned to Chiang Mai, planning our last hurrah. We had both been very interested in taking a cooking class that we had seen offered so we could take our favorite Thai dishes home with us. 

Some of the adventure dishes were far over my head... along with flames, (I will not be doing those at home, or I may end up with nothing left of a home). But the rest of the class exceeded our expectations. Partnering together we were able to make eight delectable dishes. Two soups, two noodle plates, two curries, and two main courses (cashew chicken and sweet and sour chicken with vegetables), along with mango sickie rice for desert. If you were worried about my weight loss from the previous week, you needn’t worry any longer. Along with the class we also received a cookbook, hopefully my memory will serve me well over the next few months and I can replicate a few of these dishes for you when I return home.

I have tasted a bit of everything Thailand has to offer, seen enough temples to last me a lifetime, ridden a motor bike to as many national parks as possible, walked enough markets to see every brand-name remake out there and Thai handy craft invented, and best of all made another great collection of friends. I would say this sounds like success.  

Sick as a Dog

It is only to be expected that your body can only take so much while traveling. My body however, has a harder time than most what ever it is battling. Im sure that I am bound to get what ever is around me, possibly carrying bugs in my system as long as possible and win every contest of how sick can you get... but still recover proudly and positively. 

This past week was a hard one for me. I believe I had another bout of what is most likely Malaria. Creeping up on me slowly with a soar throat, congestion and chest pain. Just when I thought I was recovering from the common cold the dreadful fever took me over. Hot, cold and chills all over in the heat and humidity of the Thailand summer felt like it would never end. Sick at my stomach and quickly becoming frail, my positive attitude of thinking it would all be over before I know it was dwindling. It was on and off for just over four days, when I took the dreaded trip to the Chiang Rai hospital. Surprisingly it was a great experience compared to what it could have been. The staff spoke minimal english but were productive and thorough. It was a newer clean facility and they ran a far more efficient process than any hospital I’ve been to in the U.S. 

I also had an amazing support group all around me. Shelley is a great care taker but also knows to give a bit of space. Wendy kept the positive loving vibes alive all the time and also kept a close eye on me. Many others provided their support in every way they knew how. 

I wasn’t connected to the internet most of the time, but in hopes to not worry my family from afar I didn’t tell them how sick I was until I felt I had to. After the 4th day of not breaking the fever, I was really wondering how much more I could take before I considered more serious repercussions. Chatting with my mom briefly I knew I worried her and scared her even more that I was worried as well. Finally Skyping my parents, knowing that they just needed to see me, I couldn’t keep myself composed, all I could do is cry. No words needed to be exchanged, I was miserable and there was noting in the world anyone could do. With in the next day I started to see the upside. My fever was down and I was able to keep a cracker or two in my stomach. I took the better part of the next 3 days to finish recovering, sleeping well and eating as much as I could to regain my strength. Luckily fruit is on every corner of Thailand and I indulged in as much pineapple, watermelon, papaya, mango, tangerines and dragon fruit as possible.   

Thinking of all the different places this could have happened on my tour of the world this was a great location with great care and the best people. Hopefully that is it for me and random illnesses. 

I have two weeks of blogs saved up but no way to upload them. I hope you all enjoy reading my book one day when I find internet that allows me to upload.
Other than that, life is going well. Crazy African style... but great. I can't wait to update you all on all that I have been doing.

Seasons

The weather has changed seasons just since I have been in northern Thailand. When I arrived I was afraid that I had not properly prepared for the very cool nights and mornings. It seems as though it is a bit warmer everyday. Now I require a cold shower mid day and enjoy the beautiful summer evening we all love so much, when the heat is gone but the temperature is so perfect that you don’t require a jacket. I’m thinking I planned well, summer all over the world. 

It is really nice to be somewhere long enough to watch the scenery change around you. Its hard to believe how fast time passes no matter where you are. I have seen the rice fields bare, flooded and now a full crop. I have enjoyed the extremely popular “green mango salad” in the off season and now the mangos at their very best and ripe. It’s possible that is my new favorite fruit. And as not enjoyable as it may be I see the controlled fire burns to maintain the jungle around the villages (which many of the outdoor volunteers help out with). It is very understandable to take care of it before the wet season starts in late March to April, but leaves the air feeling dirty and a bit foggy sometimes.

The kids have all just ended their school year and now have almost two months off, similar to our summer. We will continue at the temples, hospital and community centers but will also start a summer education camp for the hill-tribe village kids from 6 to 14. 

Change is all around us. It is something that used to challenge me greatly and I would do my best to resist but I am learning to embrace it and appreciate so many things about it. 

Volunteer Spirit

The group is constantly changing but we have all still made our friendly connection here and there. You may have heard me mention Shelley a time or two. We are by far the most similar, in so many ways; American... California transplants, travels and hobbies. She is far quieter than I (most people are), but we complement each other well and spend most of our free time together. She is just as, if not more outdoorsy than I am and we find somewhere to hike or run most days. This week we started a circuits group, which was much needed with all the rice eating we do here. We have been faithful daily but the others come and go. Ironically Shelley and I are on a similar travel route, she came from Kenya and that is my next destination. I love that she can give me lots of tips on great things to do... and a few of what not to do. We are planning a quick trip to Burma this next weekend and then to Laos the following, not places that I would have thought I would go but am excited to experience them with a friend. Shelley has a bit more experience in SE Asia than I do, as she just finished a project in Cambodia. 

Most of the boys here are British and have bonded well (funny how that worked out). We banter constantly but always have a good time. They have been informed in the past that Americans don’t have a sense of humor and continuously tell me they don’t understand mine. After almost everything I say they ask, “are you serious or joking”. I really didn’t think it was that different than dry British humor, but apparently so. They keep life fun and entertaining. The boys don’t enjoy the peace and quiet of our village much and often are creating the funniest of activities, in which we have elected one of them to be the events coordinator. This week we had a bon fire, game night and quiz night, embarrassing me on my worldly knowledge. 

The eldest of our group and some of my favorites left last week. Pat, 70, and Shelley, 53, kept up with the pack without any problems. They were good humored, related well to everyone and fed off the youthful energy. Always offering great advice about life or simply just the moment. Above all else they provided inspiration to so many of us that hope to be doing similar things when we are of that age. 

As so many people come and go, myself included, I hope to keep the volunteer spirit alive where ever I may be, by taking the very best that people have to offer. 

Akha Village Home-stay

At different periods of our time at Mirror, we go into a hill-tribe village, stay with a local family and help the community with a current project. Last week our entire group went to  an Akha village to build a water system. 

The job consisted of lugging a large amount of sand and rocks used to make cement, literally; over the river, through the woods and up the hill. Hoeing a trench to lay piping and building a water tank. The amount of manual labor and time put into this project is unbelievable. Many people had some culture shock challenges during this project, knowing more efficient and productive ways to get the job done. But when coming into someone else’s domain, it is important to respect their methods. It is a serious obstacle we all face, coming from such a productive crazy world, we want to give and do so much, but the goal is to lend a had and help them learn from us, not change their ways, as they need to develop in their own time. It is such an incredibly hard thing to accept when you feel you have so little time with them. But it would be just as shocking to them and possibly damaging to the essence of who they are if we tried to do all of these projects in our modernized form. 

I was very eager to work outside, be apart of a big group project and excited to do something physically demanding. However, I did not last long on the project, after only a  few trips to the top of the hill, on the afternoon of the first day of work I bizarrely got a stick stuck in my foot. As we were hiking through a jungly forest I heard a snap and felt a quick jab. Continuing to hike a bit further not wanting to loose my grip on my load of sand, until I crossed paths with Shelley, and she thought it looked far worse than I had imagined. I have no recollection of the pain but as we sat down and she was pressing on the top of my foot to pull the stick out, she realized that her fingers were actually on the stick inside my foot, well over an inch in horizontally along the vein of my foot. We debated a bit about what to do and then Shelley gave a good tug, it didn’t come out, so I did the same and once again it didn’t come out... After a little pow wow, I told her to give a give it another try, thankfully it was a successful one. Out came the stick along with a lot of blood. Keeping my cool through the whole show, I thought I was fine, but getting up and walking was a different story. I was immediately sick to my stomach, light headed and found myself aiming for the bushes. It took a while to collect myself, by that time I had the support of our entire group, which was so kind, and finally made it back to the village. 

I knew I was out of commission for a bit, but really didn’t know how painful it was going to be after the shock wore off. I was feeling extremely guilty for not being able to help as that is what I came for, but ended up really enjoying some of the Akha hill-tribe women. I was getting very antsy just laying on the bamboo platform on a very hot afternoon, when they brought out some of their handy-craft projects. Bags, jackets, hats with so many traditional artistic designs embroidered and beaded. They showed me some of their tricks of the trade and let me do a little myself. 

The following day my foot was extremely swollen, red and hot. The villagers were very worried about it and with in a few hours they had put together everything needed to do a small tribal surgery. It was painful to say the least. I had a large audience intrigued by the situation and a fellow volunteer who video recorded it hoping to send it to the Discovery Channel or somewhere interesting, most likely just my family. After opening the wound and cleaning it out thoroughly, my foot was wrapped in warm herbs and cloth. The herbs burned for a few hours, but for some reason I trusted their remedy. These people have been coping with injuries and illness for many years with out modernized western medicine, and they are all looking just fine. I left the herbs on for 8 hours, continuing with my day. I helped with what I could, brushing dried corn off of the cobs to feed the chickens, playing with the kids and reading when I was bored. 

The following morning my foot was close to its normal size again and far less painful. I still wasn’t able to help with the project but was happy to be up and about again. Sitting still isn’t really my thing. It was hard to be there and feel like I took more away than I gave but at the same time I felt so lucky to experience so much kindness and generosity. It seems like, to us, that they have so little but they were willing to give anything to make (me particularly) us feel comfortable and welcome.

Picture taken the day after tribal surgery. No one should ever post their feet that are as filthy dirty and worn as mine are, they look disgusting, but thought you needed a quick view ;)