Uganda

I'm alive. By the end of this you'll realize just how easily that statement could have never existed. By the way, this will be an extremely long post. I also want to apologize if the events in this post seem rushed because I've already written this all down, in detail, in my journal. I'll start with the bus ride to Uganda. Five volunteers and I decided to take a bus to Uganda for the weekend in order to go bungee jumping and white water rafting.It was a twelve hour bus ride from Nairobi, Kenya to Jinja, Uganda. I really thought that it was going to be a demanding journey, but I slept comfortably and we were in Jinja in no time. Once I got off the bus I was greeted by a lot of men on motorbikes who seemed to be our way of transportation to the place where we were staying. If there's one thing that I'll miss most about Uganda, it will be the bodabodas. Bodabodas are what the motorbike taxis are called. They fit three people, including the driver, and the ride is so ill. My friend Mike and I hopped on and we were off. After about ten minutes we arrived at Adrift, a cheap place to stay that also did the bungee jumping and white water rafting. This was about 9:00. We got there and went straight to the bar. We didn't go there to drink, but we had to wait there before we could get a room. Once we got to the bar we noticed the bungee jumping tower to our left. It was 44 meters, which is also about 145 feet. We saw a few people jump which made most of us even more uneasy about actually doing it. After a while of sitting around we spoke to some woman, and got free accommodation for the night since we were bungee jumping and white water rafting. We then signed up and paid for bungee jumping, and we were set to jump at three. I really wish that we would have jumped earlier because the wait made everything worse. We all basically sat around for four hours waiting to jump. I kept psyching myself out and back up. In order to psych myself up I had to revert back to my old ways and be a little cocky. I kept going around in circles saying "I'm Matt Askaripour and I'm the best." It was pretty funny but it worked, until I actually got up there. When it was time to go we all climbed up many flights of stairs and found ourselves 44 meters up. I looked down and started freaking out. Luckily I was last due to the order of cards we pulled earlier, so I had time to get back into it. I knew I was going to do it regardless because if you don't jump on your own, the guy up there with you pushes you. I actually saw a lot of people go that way and it's so funny. Anyway, it was my turn after all of my friends went. I walked down the platform, got the towels and cord tied to my feet, and was given instructions on what to do. The guy told me not to look down, but obviously I did. I don't know how to explain it. When I looked down I thought I was going to faint but I knew I was still going to do it. The guy then said, "One, two, three, bungee!," and I jumped. Most people told me that they kept their eyes closed, but mine were open the whole time. I guess I blanked out when I jumped because you're supposed to dive out and I was going feet down. All I remembered was one of my friends saying someone bursted all of the capillaries in their face that way so I flipped myself over and started to scream "I'm Matt Askaripour!!!!." It was really amazing. Half of my body was even submerged in the Nile. Oh, I can't believe I forgot to mention the Nile. The place we were staying at was situated right near the Nile so I got to see it everyday that I was there. I even got to swim in it, but that will come later. I went back to the bar after the bungee jumping and everyone was telling me how scared they were when they saw me going feet first. Right after that they all started to laugh and told me how hard they were laughing when I realized I was going feet first and supposedly yelled out "Oh no!" Haha. We went into town after all of that and chilled. I really liked the town, but I could tell it was the nice part of Uganda and pretty touristy. I knew I could have only stood being a tourist for a couple of days. Everyone was drinking that night, but my stomach hurt so I only had one Nile beer. It tasted pretty nasty to me that night. Everyone except a couple of us went whitewater rafting the next day. A couple of my friends and I didn't really feel like it, and I was really indifferent about the whole thing from the beginning. We all basically chilled around for the day, explored the town, and waited for the others got back. Everyone got back later that night, but we had nowhere to stay. Despite that seemingly large fact, we had a couple of beers. I got drunk after around four or five Nile beers. The thing with beer in Uganda, and I'm sure other countries, is that it was in ml. Each beer was 500 ml and I couldn't convert it to ounces but it's definitely more than twelve ounces. Maybe sixteen? Anyway, after getting drunk some guy from another place that housed people came and I spoke to him. He said he had room at this other place called Nile River Explorers (NRE), and that we could go there. This same guy, named Henry, saved me later that night. We went to NRE and found out that there was no room there so Henry brought us to some place down the road called Eden's Rock. This place was amazing. There was ten of us and we got a two story "Banda" for 80,000 Ugandan Shillings, which basically equals four dollars each. Once all of us got there some headed out to the bar at NRE and I went along. Henry asked us if we wanted to go swimming in the Nile. I thought he was joking. We went down some path and there it was. We all went in with our underwear on, except for some people who I won't mention, and we sat on some rocks. Henry and some of his Ugandan friends asked us if we wanted to swim and no one answered except me. I said yeah, but I think I mean yeah, right. I began to swim with the current, which was so strong, and before I realized it I was pretty far out. I'm not even a good swimmer. I began to swim against the current and I got no where. Henry asked me if I was okay and I said yeah. After realizing I might die out there, I made a weird sound and got Henry's attention. He swam out and showed me a way to swim against the current and then we climbed onto some rocks and found our way back to the group. Just to let you know, that's not the near death experience I'm talking about. To make this part of the journey shorter, a few friends and I went quading the next day on Sunday. It was amazing. I love doing stuff like that and we quaded alongside the Nile, in the Brush, and past a lot of people's homes. I didn't enjoy driving past people's homes so much because the kids were nice, but the adults had facial expressions that screamed get out. I saw a kid with a big fat belly and protruding ribs one of the time we stopped near the Nile. He was chewing some sugar cane and looked worse than some of those kids on the "Save Africa" type commercials. His stomach was so big, but all of this contrasted with the fact that his upper body was as bony as a skeleton. I had a pretty bad fever during this whole time as well. It came before we went quading and went away for a little while we were doing the actual quading. Anyway, we went to town after the quading, and it was then that I realized I forgot my mom's camera in the quading overalls. Not even my camera, my mother's. I went back and they had it, but it was wet. It went through the wash and it wasn't turning on. I was in shock. I hoped and hoped that everything would be okay because I had so many pictures and videos on it. I got back to Adrift and put the sd card in someone else's camera. The pictures showed up, but the videos didn't. I think that that was because it was a different camera. The camera only turned on later that night to say lens error and hasn't turned on since. I brought it to a guy here in Kenya and he said it's not worth it to fix. At least I still have to pictures and I'm pretty sure I have the videos as well. Anyway, I couldn't get a bus back Sunday night so we had to wait around until 16:30 on Monday. I was fed up with being a tourist by this time. Don't stop reading if you've made it this far. This is where the real stuff goes down. We got on the bus around 17:15 and all was alright. We went to the border and got our passports stamped. While I was online a soldier and another man called me over. It took me a while to realize that they were talking to me until they made fake glasses out of their hands. I asked them why they called me over, which was dumb, and the soldier said, "because we're officers." He realized I was an American and we spoke about Obama, life, and what tribe I was from. They were good guys and they even told others I was their friend. I don't know how I keep making friends with all of these people out of nowhere. Anyway, after the border our bus was stopped and we were all ordered to get out and form two lines. One male and one female. A soldier came around with a drug sniffing dog and then we had to open up all of our bags. I didn't really care about that. Our big, fully packed, coach bus crashed about two hours from the border. Supposedly our driver hit a pothole, swerved, and the whole bus flipped. I don't know where to begin. I'm alive, but I don't know that everyone that was on the bus still is. The bus fell on the side that I wasn't sitting on. I flew across the seat onto the side that it did fall on and I remember screaming "Live!" I'm sort of happy that that was my first and only thought during that situation. I feel on my back and even though I couldn't see anymore, since my glasses flew off, I saw that the whole windshield was gone and I jumped out as quickly as I got and climbed onto a little cliff. I saw a corn field and I was about to start running through it, but then I started to think that the whole crash was a trap and that the people who made it happen were going to be in the corn field and try to kill us all. I decided to stand on the little cliff and I saw that the bus was fully on its side. All of the windows were broken, and blood and glass were everywhere. I had a lot of glass in my hands and mouth. Everything was blurred but I saw my friends and others coming out. I quickly heard screaming and crying. My friends and I all moved away from the bus after we got together. Some of us were hurt but nothing too bad. Thank someone that we were in the first six seats in the front on the side of the bus that it didn't land on. After a lot of crying and hugging we decided to get our luggage before people started to steal them. All of the guys in our group went to the back of the bus and started to wait for people to get all of the luggage out. We wanted to go in but the bus reeked of petrol and I wasn't taking any chances. I saw a guy laying down and I took his hand. I knew he had a compound fracture because a bone was sticking out of his shin. He squeezed my hand. I didn't cry once during the accident or afterwards, but I'll admit that I almost did twice. The first time was when I got out of the bus and realized that I spoke to my mom an hour earlier and didn't tell her that I loved her. The second time was when I was holding that man's hand and he said that he was going to leave me and this world. I left him after a while and went to the front end of the bus in order to find my luggage. One of my friends went in through the windshield and started to pass our bags out. I went in after a while but got out after a couple of minutes because I heard the engine still running. I found my glasses, that weren't broken, my working ipod, and my headphones. I even still had my passport and money in my bag despite that it was open when the bus crashed. We were all so lucky. We called the head person of our volunteer organization and he found someone that was near us to pick us up. We were about six hours from Nairobi. Cops came but then left. No one with the bus company stayed, I think they ran away. Everyone was left there for themselves. The guy who was supposed to pick us up, Joseph, came about an hour and a half later. I can't even begin to describe Joseph. If angels exist Joseph is most definitely one. He brought us to the hospital in his Matatu and the nurses and doctors didn't do anything except charge us 500 KES ($7) for nothing. This was about two or three in the morning and I realized I was cut on my back. We went to the bus station that was in that town and they said we could get a bus for free back to Nairobi in an hour. Joseph brought us to his house and gave us chai and his wife even prepared beds for us despite the fact that we were just going back to the bus station. We went back to the bus station and no bus was there. We waited for hours. They kept saying it was delayed. Joseph said he would bring us to breakfast in the meantime. When we walked into the diner everyone stared at us. I was wearing my black and grey hoody, black jeans, one shoe without a lace on my right foot, and a dirty white sock on my left foot. I only found one shoe after the accident. I felt like a kid from the slums and I looked worse than one. I guess everyone in the diner knew about the accident and everyone kept saying sorry. We got some food and Joseph paid for it. We went back to the bus station afterwards. There was no bus. The guy there said his manager wasn't picking up his phone. After hours of waiting we decided to get a ten seater bus straight to Nairobi. After we got out of the bus station's office, I saw about eight teenagers staring at me. The guys I was with went to talk to Joseph and these kids were staring at me like they wanted to fight. They were a gang of glue huffers. I haven't been mad during this whole month, not even when the bus crashed or anything, but the fact that I thought the kids wanted to fight me made me want to kill them. I kept staring back at them and one approached me. He spoke to my in Swahili and I spoke back. After a while I realized that they were just a bunch of harmless kids getting high off of sniffing glue. After I exhausted my swahili speaking skills I asked them to speak in English. They asked me what happened and why one of the girls I was with was covered in blood. I told them and they told me that god is good. My friends called me over after a while and I told the kids I had to go. They followed me to the Matatu and one spoke to me outside of the window. Before we took off he said, "forgive the bus, and forget." I'm sure he meant forgive the bus driver. I never blamed the bus driver though. Unlike my friends, I didn't care about putting blame onto anyone despite the hearsay. The driver supposedly took a dangerous route with bad roads in order to go through a town where we would stop and buy food from his friends and he was going to make money off of it. I don't care about any of that. I'm alive. After Joseph booked the ten seater for us we gave him some money. He refused it but we basically had to yell at him and he took it. He was basically with us for eight hours and never complained or asked for anything once. I'll always remember him. We got onto the ten seater and drove for hours until we got dropped off at this once place and someone from our volunteer organization picked us up. I don't know if I'm in shock, but the significance of the accident hasn't sunk in yet. I'm alive, I know that, but I don't know how it makes me feel. I can't say "oh man! I love my friends and family so much now, life is great, I'm going to be a good person and make everything count!" I've already realized this all from being in Africa. I do wonder who or what was watching over me though. I'll be home by this time next week and I'm looking forward to it.

Football

I've actually been up to a lot lately. I went to a football game yesterday that was between Brazil all-stars from 94' and a Kenyan team a little lower than the national team named the Harambe Stars. It was okay. I got to see the Prime Minister which was cool, but Brazil was so disappointing. It's so true what people say about Brazilian players getting fat after retiring. I'm glad I experienced it overall though. I went back to the Yaya Masai Market today which was even better than last time because I knew most of the sellers. It was really fun and chill despite the fact that people were grabbing me left and right. At one point, there was literally two guys pulling each of my arms in a different direction in order to go to their shop. Some sellers even gave me free stuff since they liked me. One of the three presents I got is a big stone red heart, I like it a lot. It sort of symbolizes a lot for me. I also got a little bowl and hippo for free haha. It was weird but I went with it. I can't even remember all of the things that I've done. Oh! I'm going to Uganda next weekend. It's actually really expensive but worth it. The orphanage is good as well. School just finished, so now all of the kids who couldn't afford to go to school will be taught in the mornings and after I do some teaching I'll play some games with them. A lot of the kids know more than I thought too. One kid was teaching me a little Swahili and said the word "Mgeni." He pointed at me and said "You're a Mgeni, a visitor." It's sort of sad. All of the volunteers just come and go out of these kids' lives like nothing. At least some know that we aren't permanent. What's the point of volunteering though. We come for a little time, and we leave by the time we find anything truly significant to do. It's not fair to those who we're supposed to help and even to ourselves. I came here with the realization that I couldn't help a lot of people, but that I could help some. I knew and still know that I can improve, even if it's only slightly, a few kids' quality of life. Even if it's just be being a friend and showing them that they matter in the world. I'm both happy and said about going home. I really do miss a lot of people at home, but I know I'm going to miss a lot of people here as well once I leave. I do plan to come back though. Even if it's in ten years. Kenya has done more for me than I have ever done for anyone else. It's really helped me to appreciate those in my life, the things I have, and life itself. It's sort of sad that it took me 9000 miles, a 12 hour flight to the Middle East, 13 hour wait, and 5 hour flight to realize all of that. I'm glad that everything has happened this way though, and I really do plan to not be such an asshole to people when I go home. There's no reason for it. Right? Anyway, one of the things that is most weird is that I only see myself in a mirror once or twice every week and a half so I don't always realize how tan I am or the fact that I have a little moustache. I'll be glad to be around more mirrors when I get home. Aside from leaving Kenya, the only other thing about going home that I'm not looking forward to is the journey back. It's going to be so long and Qatar is always 110 degrees and up. Two kids from England told me that they got visas out of the airport and explored so I might do that which would be cool. I'm happy that I've already become comfortable with Kenya. Some people only begin to get used to it when they're about to leave and I have two more weeks to make some moves. I'm at a cyber down the rode right now and they only charge 65 cents a minute. 100 cents is one shilling and 76 shillings is one US dollar so do the math. I also set up internet at the orphanage and I'll be working on a website there so I'll have a lot more internet access which is good. I'm going to go back to the house and chill. I'm excited to upload all of the pictures and videos I have when I go home. Peace

Human

Today marks the two weeks that I've been here. They have been two of the best weeks of my life so far. The safari was pretty wild. I saw Lions, Hippos, Zebras (favorite), Hyenas, Giraffes, Crocodiles, Vultures, Impallas, Antelopes, Rhinos, Wildebeasts, Buffalos, Cheetahs, Leopards, and more that I'm probably forgetting. Lions and all of the other animals were only inches away from me. I also got a lot of good things on video like Vultures eating a dead Wildebeast (I don't know if that's the correct spelling), and I also got a lot of good pictures. I wish I would have invested in a better camera though because my shots weren't that good in comparison to others but I'll still remember the animals and land clearly. The safari also gave me a lot of time for meditation, which was a good thing because it allowed me to work a lot of things out. I finally figured out the thing that Africa is teaching me. It's really teaching me how to be human again. For the past couple of years I've tried to be anything but that. I've tried to not feel anything, and I've also tried to not care about a lot of things. Being here is teaching me how to feel more and embrace what and who I am, which is allowing me to become a better person. I'm also learning to appreciate my friends and family more as well. I always thought of myself as someone who never took anything for granted, but after a lot of thought I've realized that most of my past actions only point to that. I'm excited to go home and hopefully be able to really live life and help others see the beauty in it if they don't. I'm excited to wake up earlier at home and make most days productive ones. I'm also excited for school. I've seen a lot during these past two weeks, I've seen both extreme poverty and extreme wealth. Aside from all of that soul searching, I've been playing a lot of football with the local kids, who are amazing, and I've been becoming more comfortable with Kenya and it's becoming more comfortable with me as well. I haven't eaten much during the past couple of days because I got sick on the safari, but I'm feeling a lot better. I was going to go to the beach in Mombasa this weekend but I feel like if I go there and Uganda, I'll be killing my cash flow too much so I'm going to cross that off of my list of things to do. I'm all over the place in this blog but I'm just going to write whatever comes to mind. It can either be really hot here or really cold since it's winter but I'm fine with that. I actually like the weather a lot here. I'm getting a suit made in a couple of days for only about 37 dollars which is an amazing price, and I'm sure it will be good quality. I think I'm going to go back to the Yaya Masai Market this Sunday since I'm going to Uganda the Sunday after the one coming up, and I'll be leaving the Sunday after that. I plan to go bungee jumping while I'm in Uganda which will be crazy. Something about this place that makes me happy is that all of the kids know about Obama here. One kid in the street even called me Obama which was new since I usually get Ronaldinho or Ronaldo. I have to go back to the orphanage soon. Peace

Yaya

I've done a good amount of things during the past couple of days. I went to different animal orphanages on Saturday which was amazing. First we went to an elephant orphanage which was pretty good. The elephants were pretty chill and I saw them get fed basically from huge baby bottles full of milk. A baby rhino came out at the end which was pretty cool too and he or she started to charge at everyone. After that we went to a giraffe orphanage which was amazing. You walk up on some high platform and you can feed the giraffes. I kissed one a couple of times and kept petting them. I have videos and pictures that I'll post when I get home since I don't want to accidentally break my mom's camera by connecting it to a cheap Kenyan computer. I saw so many cool souvenirs at the giraffe orphanage but they were so expensive so I told myself I would wait until I went to the Massai Market. After the giraffe orphanage we went to a couple of other little places for people to eat then we went to MONKEY PARK! That was one of the coolest places I have ever been to in my life. Once you get out of the car, little monkeys start chasing you and jumping all over you. That's just the parking lot. When you get to the actual monkey park you see dozens of little monkeys running around right in front of you. Some attacked me when I started waving peanuts in front of their faces and I also managed to get a lot of them to jump all over my head and back. I really can't wait to show people the videos and pictures. After monkey park about six of us went out to some restaurant called Max Land and after an hour of waiting we got a big tray of chicken, tomatos, goat, and chips (french fries). The whole day was great and only cost 31$. I wish the next day was the same. Yesterday my friend Callum and I went to the Massai Market at Yaya. The Massai Market is a huge market that has thousands of souvenirs for people to buy. All of the sellers there try to get you to buy their things and they usually rip you off, but I was prepared. It reminded of the Jamaican craft markets that I used to go to whenever I went to Jamaica, except these Kenyans were ten times fiercer than the Jamaicans. I brought a lot of caps that said New York on them and click pens to trade and I was successful. I bargained down a painting from 4000 kes to 700 and that's basically how my whole day there was. I was probably the toughest bargainer in there and I walked out with a lot of nice paintings, sculptures, shirts, and bags for about 71$. Not too bad but I don't plan on killing my cash flow anymore.

T.I.A.

I don't really know where to start on this one. I'm currently in a cyber in Kawangare-- one of the major slums of Kenya. I can take as much time as I want on it thought because it only costs 1 bob, .13 cents, a minute. I'll be brief about the flight or sleeping in the airport terminal like Tom Hanks because those experiences pale in comparison to my time actually in the country so far. The plane ride to Qatar was amazing. I felt like I was in first class and the twelve hours went by quickly. Qatar was hot, about 110 degrees. I wandered around the airport for a while and slept on random couches. Done. The flight to Kenya was okay. That plane was a regular one and this Chinese guy chatted me up a bit about China and what not. When I first arrived in Kenya I noticed that a lot of it looked like Jamaica but I soon realized that it's nothing like it. I feel accepted when I'm in Jamaica, but here I am a Mzungu. Mzunug's denotation means English-speaking, but it's connotation essentially means white person. At first it seemed like a lot of people didn't like outsiders, but many were just intimidated. I'm not saying that there aren't those who hate outsiders, but most of the people feel inferior. It's the colonial oppression running through their veins that might not ever bleed out. Some people won't look you in the eye, some look at the ground, some don't speak, and everyone stares. I can't walk down the street without literally hearing Mzungu after every person I pass. I'm fine with it though. People always label others by what is easiest to see: "Look at that white girl Mary," or "I sit next to some black girl." At first I wanted to be accepted, but I soon realized that that would be an insult to Kenyans and all of the other African people around the world. My skin color doesn't enable me to become a part of every other black person's culture. I don't know Kenyans struggle, I don't know their country, and I certainly don't know what it means to be Kenyan. People aren't skin deep. I've already done and seen a lot of crazy things here. When I got picked up at the airport I went over to my temporary house that is owned by a woman named Mama Lydia. She was cool and her house was realy nice, running water and everything. I met other volunteers, some new some old, and we all got to know each other. I now have a lot of friends from England, Canada, and Australia. We went out to a bar that night and had some beer. I met a guy there who was the promotional manager of my favorite Kenyan beer- Tusker. He kept buying me beer and other guys were too. I became friendly with a lot of them and due to the fact that I learned a little Swahili, far more than the other volunteers, they felt more comfortable with me. Due to the fact that I separated myself from the other volunteers, the promotional manager, Oyaya, and I were able to talk about personal things. We spoke about race, America, Kenya, Africa, tribes, racism, life, love, and a lot of other things. We agreed on a lot. He said that if he was white, he would be the whitest. That's one of the things that has stuck with me throughout the trip. What he said means that you basically have to do the best that you can in life to the fullest extent. He gave me his numbers, work and mobile, and told me to call him for more beer and conversation. He also told me that he would drive me around Kenya for free and I told him that would be good. I know it sounds dumb but I'm good at feeling people out. I would definitely bring someone with me though if he ever called me. I'm not here to get drunk and act stupid every night but a relief is good once in a while. The next day I went to orientation and that was good. I learned useful things like how to not get mugged. After that I went to my permanent house. I met the host family and they were pretty nice. I also met Callum. With the words "Fancy going out tonight?" I knew that some crazy stuff was going to go down. We got picked up by a taxi and in it were other volunteers Callum knew from his temporary house. We went to a club and once we got in and paid we saw a pole dancer. I didn't really know we were going to a strip club. The pole dancer was okay but sort of turned me on. I don't like seeing women do those type of degrading things. Once we sat down and ordered some drinks a prostitute started to kiss me. I didn't want to be rude but I also didn't want any of what she had you know. I got her off of me and I started to dance with this girl who was dancing in front of a mirror for ten minutes by herself. She was nice and put up with my random intrusion. After a while a lot more prostitutes came up to us and were really forward. I messed with them for a little bit, not physically just said funny things to them, and then followed my Callum and others to the smoking room. I don't smoke at all so it was a little nasty being in there but it was fun. A lot of stuff happened with the prostitutes in the club that night, I assure you nothing physical, but some rude things were said that I would rather not write here. After the club we went back to the house and it was 5am. The door was locked. It took a while for our host Oliver to get there but it was okay. The next day he had a talk with us and it was all good. I ate eggs for the first time in my life. They were good so I think I'm an egg eater now. Last night Callum and I went out to see Harry potter, which sucked, and when we got back at 12:30 no one was answering the door. We banged and banged on the door but still no answer. After a while we thought that they were not home so we tried getting a taxi to where we thougth they were. None were stopping so we decided to walk. Not a smart move at all because it was pitch black and we were in an extremely dangerous slum. I grabbed a rock in order to defend myself if it came to that, but then I decided not to walk and just wait for them. Cops drove by and stopped and spoke to us. I saw one step out with a huge AK47 but it was fine. They brought us upstairs and after a while of banging and flashlight shining people inside the house came out. They're just heavy sleepers I guess, or maybe they wanted to teach us a lesson. Anyway, I should probably talk about the most important part of my journey so far. I volunteer at an orphanage called the Agape Hope Center. My host family runs it. Once I got there the red dirt on the ground began to make my nostrils burn. All of the children came up to us and said "Habari Gani!" Most of them started to grab our hands and ask for hugs. After a while of messing around I took a football out and we started to kick it around. The older kids were kicking it with me and I asked how old they were. They said 12 and 13 but I didn't believe it because they were all about 4 feet tall. I asked one of the head people if they were really all around 12 and 13 and he said yes. I asked him white they were so small and he said because of malnutrition. I honestly wanted to cry. He realized how bad I felt with my faint reply of "Oh," and he said "Yeah, now you get it don't you." He shook his head and said it in a way that made me realize he thought I was ignorant to the troubles of the world. I partially am, but I'm making progress. Not all of the kids are orphans. Some have one parent, both, or none. Regardless of this they can't be taken care of at home. They either play with rocks and nail, do funny hand gestures, or play with things as basic as a little string tied to a wooden post. My eyes open to real struggle when I compare their seemingly basic sources of pleasure to the jungle gyms and playground of my youth. They are all so energetic and full of life. I'm not here to be their saviour though, I can't be. Whenever they start to cry the other volunteers grab them and try to console them but I don't. They have to learn that no one else can give them what they truly need. They have to liberate themselves and become their own sources of motivation in order to have better lives. Lives not full of disease and neglect. What I am here for is to make them realize that life isn't about just living, but that it is about living happily regardless of your situation. This boy, Antony, has all of the potential in the world to become a good football player. Once we gave him the ball he began to touch it like he was born with it attached to his foot. We taught him how to rainbow in literally three minutes. It's kids like these that make me want to be the best person that I can possibly be. All of them speak at least three or more langauges like most people in Kenya: Swahili, English, and their own tribal language. These Kenyan people that I see all of the time are content with who they are and most of them know the joy of life. I saw a man who had a perfectly good leg with a backwards foot. His foot was totally backwards but he didn't have any scars so I guess he was born that way. It's people like that that make me give them honor instead of pity. Pity leads to more poverty, not progress. There's a saying that a lot of the Mzungus say here. Whenever anything isn't that clean or doesn't go right they say "T.I.A." which stands for "This is Africa." I say it everywhere I go because everywhere hold more knowledge and beauty than I have encountered anywhere else so far in my life. " T.I.A.

4.5 Hours

I just finished up packing all of my last minute things. I takeoff from JFK in 4.5 hours, and I'll be heading to Qatar. I think that I'll definitely have jet lag because my flight from JFK is 11:30 pm and I'll be getting there 12.5 hours later, BUT Qatar is 7 hours ahead so I'll be getting there at 7 pm. My whole sleeping schedule is going to be messed up. I'm pretty excited though. I have a lot of books and what not in my carry on and I'll just spend majority of my flight either reading, listening to music, or trying to gain entry into the oh so prestigious mile high club. I'm excited. I have a feeling that this month is going to go by really fast and be one of the best months of my life. I don't know how I'll be able to leave my future Kenyan wife, but I guess all good things come to an end eventually. I'm going to be in Qatar for 13 hours, and since I won't be bringing my laptop it might be difficult for me to get onto a computer. If I can get onto a computer I'll holla and write about the 12 hour flight and hopefully interesting 13 hour layover in the Middle East or I'll just blog it up once I get to Kenya.

The Night Before Takeoff

I started this blog to document a lot of the public, and even some of the personal, things that I will experience in Kenya. This blog won't always be grammatically correct nor will it contain proper punctuation in all of my hopefully unpretentious posts. I want this blog to be raw to the fullest extent. An open wound, endlessly flowing with red life. One of the main reasons I decided to go to Kenya is because I want to be able to live again. Not in the sense of a rhythmically beating heart, but living in these sense of being closer to both the inhabitants of the reality that I live in, and the reality itself. During the past few years of my life I have distanced myself from the world that I live in, and I even came to believe that I found solace in that distance. I've done a lot of introspective thinking during these past couple of months. Maybe it has been due to the fact that I have so much free time on my hands since I'm on summer break, or maybe I'm just finally growing up. Don't get my use of the phrase "growing up" mixed with common perception that accompanies it, which I consider to be "growing out." I believe that growing up is when we reach vertical milestones in our lives. Experiences or discoveries that allow us to move upward in our lives, and consciousness of the world, that also allows us to help others' consciousness grow upward as well. On the other hand, I consider "growing out" to consist of spreading our current knowledge and current emotions horizontally that only really affect one singular plane of our existence: getting a job, getting a girlfriend -- acquiring more responsibilities that contribute to our overall consciousness of the world we live in inconsequentially. From the time that I decided I was going to volunteer in Kenya (one month ago), I promised myself that I was going to make a conscious to be a better person. To be genuinely nicer to people (not that fake smile act), and to just calm down overall. I've always done everything so fast in my life: ran fast, thought fast, walked fast, ate fast, succeeded or failed fast. I've realized that I just need to slow down and take time to observe. All of this thinking has caused me to become someone with a more clarified perception of who I was, who I am, and who I really want to be. I know that getting far away to a place I've never been to, such as Kenya, will change me for the better. I've grown up with many misconstrued perceptions of many different things that I am only beginning to shake off now: women, intelligence, religion, fun, people, emotions, and life in general. These are many, but not all, of my reasons for going to Kenya. I don't plan to be the "American Saviour" that will make all of the poor little black African's problems go away. I'm there to observe, understand, and offer whatever I have to give in terms of knowledge and what little life experience I have. I plan to see the deepest shade of black whether it be in the people I encounter or the lands that I see. I'm going to where the deepest shade of black resides.