Day 1

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Sorry if the spelling/grammar is horrible. No time to review right now

Will add photos soon!!!!



January 2, 2012. Just the second day into what has been advertised to be the most important year in human history, thanks to the Mayans. What better way to celebrate the end of the world than by heading off to Kenya? A place that I have little to no chance of visiting in the future once I leave college and study abroad trips are no longer an option for me. Sure, its hard to leave your loved ones behind, even sadder when they drop you off at the airport and wish you the best of luck, but honestly, how do you have a life altering experience when you refuse to leave the comfort of your home? The familiar atmosphere in which you grew up, and the sanctuary which you built around you are all very important, but when it comes down to it, I am the one willing to set that aside and experience life. I look at any upcoming adventures, whether big or small, exciting or absolutely terrifying and just say “Bring it on world, throw your best at me” (I say this as I smack a rather large and daunting mosquito on the wall next to me).

Monday January 2^nd, 2012 is the day that I left for Kenya, what could possibly be one of my first and last big adventures. Not that I am dying or anything (that I am aware of), but as I said before, what other opportunity will I get to go to a place like this in the future? I am growing up, sure I am only 22, but I do want a career and a family, my own little version of the American dream if you will. However, those things, as wonderful as they are, come with sacrifices. Sadly that usually includes unnecessary travel destinations being thrown out the window first. So really, I have prepared myself for the idea that this might be my finally big adventure. Hopefully one of the greatest since I paid over $5,000 for the damn thing.

The travelling sucked to say the least. Two 8-hour flights stuffed back in coach is no one’s idea of a perfect way to spend a day and a half. But either way, I suffered through it. I met my group at the Dulles International Airport and together we began our long journey. I unfortunately had the pleasure of sitting next to an old, wheezing chap; a fellow that in my personal opinion appeared to be near death. Due to the fact that it took him nearly 5 minutes to get up, I simply had to resort to only getting up when he did, which was a grand total of three times. I have a tendency to not get up during long flights (bad, I know) so honestly, I couldn’t really complain.

When we landed in Amsterdam, we were greeted with such a gorgeous airport. It was all decked out for the holidays, Christmas lights and trees in every direction. I was rather thrilled, even after a long flight, to see the numerous facilities that the airport offered, from fine shopping with specialty food, chocolate, soccer gear, and the top fashion designers (they even had a Victoria’s Secret) to a library, a museum, and even a casino. This airport had it all, they were even generous enough to give you an hour of free wifi, so the 3-hour layover we had here flew by rather quickly.

Next thing I knew I was once more stuck on another plane, cramming my legs in a corner by the window seat, but oh! How greatful I was that I even had a window seat! Though I was exhausted and slept most of the flight, I would wake up to see glorious views of the Alps, the Mediterranean Sea, and even the Sahara Desert. I sat next to two younger girls from New York, who were going to Kenya on a mission trip. They appeared to not be very skilled travelers, and they ogled at every minor thing, but in the end they were nice enough, perhaps slightly annoying with their constant questions. But anyway, they were travelling to two small villages within the country. They did not state where, but they did mention that they had a 10-hour drive after this last flight into Nairobi. Something that I could not even contemplate doing.

So I spent most of the plane ride snoozing, looking out the window, watching one of the numerous movies that were available for viewing, or forcing down more of the plane food that the KLM staff brought around every couple of hours. They definitely like to feed you on that flight. When we landed in Nairobi, it was very dark outside, being that it was nearly 9 o’clock. I exited the plane with one of the girls from my trip (I will remember her name later) that had sat behind me on the flight. The first thing I saw as I exited the plane into this new and different country was…. A tobacco outlet. How very typical of humanity. The airport was rather dingy, filled with rundown stores that were all crammed together like an outdoor market in the streets of Florence.

My new friend and I stood and waited by windowed wall housing gigantic boxes of cigarettes, awaiting the arrival of the rest of our group. When we were finally all reunited, we made our way to the security check point before baggage claim. It took a while to get past the passport check, but I waited their patiently as other members of my group made it through on another line as the remainder of my group were stuff waiting for an African family to be let in to the country. To my right stood a Visa counter with an enormously long line, filled with all the foreigners who thought it would be best to leave the decision of their acceptance into Africa in the hands of one sole worker, who had the option to turn them away and send them back to their homeland with one swift moment of his pen. Though it was slightly annoying to venture into D.C., parallel park and communicate with the rather variable staff of the Kenyan embassy, looking at that line made every second of it worthwhile.

My bags came through fine. Thank God. I don’t know what I would do in Africa with none of my luggage, since I merely packed the essentials. However, not everyone was lucky. Two members of my group (or rather one, keep reading) had their luggage lost. One kid David, who apparently was handed a ticket with another person’s name that was heading to Istanbul and an older woman named Tracy/Eleanor. Tracy because that is her middle name and what her family calls her, and Eleanor because that is her given name and is always on roll call. We waited as they talked to the baggage claim people. I looked around, inspecting the airport. There were hundreds of bags that lay unclaimed off of the carousel, perhaps due to delays caused by the visa and passport counter, or even an incorrect luggage ticket like the one David got. Either way, it was rather weird to see all these bags without an owner. The walls had advertisements plastered all over them for the same company, Safaricom, the company that would in fact be providing me my Internet for the trip. All of their banners held pictures of gazelle and other typical African animals, a “subtle” welcome to this new country.

As we were waiting for our Tracy and David to take to the service desks, one of the girls in our group, the one I shall label as the chubby, smart looking, and opinionated grad student (because I forgot her name as well), looked at all the luggage in our pile and noticed a black bag that didn’t seem to belong to anyone in our circle. Upon inspecting the luggage tag, it read “Eleanor”; apparently someone else had grabbed it off the carousel and drug it over to our corner. Well, at least that was one less person to worry about. We left through customs, not even being looked at by the workers, who seemed to have no interest in requesting our custom’s form. We met up with an African man that our group leader, Ryan seemed to know well. He took us out of the airport and let us over to a small bus to take us to our hotel.

After nearly being run over by a car that didn’t even have its lights on I turned around and inspected the exterior of the airport. From the angle I was at it looked like a fort. Not only that, but there was a car right next to the entrance that was placed on a cinderblock and had the back tire MIA…. Right. Well, this seems safe enough. I boarded the bus and we were off. I tried to see everything I could in the dark, from the Kenyan people to the poor infrastructure of the road. We passed some very nice buildings as well as some very rundown parts of town. One of the most fascinating things of travelling to a poorer country it to see the division of the rich and the poor. Sure, in global affairs we argued over whether or not the gap between these two was shrinking or expanding, discussing the topic so nonchalantly that it seemed like an everyday, ordinary thing. But really, to go out and really see the division is extraordinary. One reason I wish to go to Brazil and other South American countries.

After driving some time on a dark, but paved road we turned and headed down a rather bumpy, dirt path. If I wasn’t with a cargo of people quite aware of where we were going I would say that I was being taken to the middle of no where to be robbed, knifed and left for the hyenas to eat me. But no, civilization did in fact exist in this place. We reached one of the creepiest gates I have every encountered, perhaps because it was just pitch black outside. Either way there was this large, two-door gate, connecting a large cement wall with pieces of broken glass encasing the top of the wall. Our driver waited, as slowly a gatekeeper stepped out of the darkness and slowly, very, very slowly, processed to let us in. The compound itself was rather nice. There were lots of trees and other sorts of vegetation to help add life to the otherwise cement surroundings.

We waited nearly twenty minutes for a nun, adorning a bath rob to come and give us all keys. Ryan had warned us that this place was not top-notch, and while I agree based on American standards, I was expecting much worse for an impoverished African country. We each received our own room. The rooms had two beds, a closet, a table with a Bible and a TV (if you haven’t caught on, the place is run by Catholics) and a very modest bathroom. So, I settled in, brushed my teeth with my small bottle of water, fiddled with the windows, because believe it or not, it is very cold at night in Kenya, and promptly fell asleep on the hard, yet comfortable bed.

And now here I am, chatting with you fine folks, waiting for the day to begin. I am currently quite content. Even though there are mosquitoes flying around, I am listening to the morning calls of tropical birds, along with the occasional car. We are apparently right across the street from the Nairobi National Park. However, this past night, unlike other future nights, we were told that we would not be hearing exotic animals prowling about outside. Oh well, something to look forward to in days to come.

And now, will the end of my story thus far, I must wish you all adieu, until my next posts. Where I am sure there will be must more exciting things to discuss than what movies I watched on the two long plane rides. Good morning Kenya, and goodnight my fellow Virginians.

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