A Tribute to the "Ryder Lake Hotel: Home of the Happy Sleep"

"What is it about grandparents that is so lovely? I'd like to say that grandparents are God's gifts to children. And if they can but see, hear and feel what these people have to give, they can mature at a fast rate. -Bill Cosby"

(For those of you avid followers looking forward to an exciting Africa post, I apologize. This one hits a little closer to home).

As I sit in Kenya in the evening writing this, back in Canada, my family is just getting up in the morning to move my grandparents out of the house I practically grew up in. Now, no offence to my old Fairfield Island house, but Grandma and Papa's house to me is the epitome of home.

Surrounded by five acres of trees in the depths of Ryder Lake lies Grandma and Papa's house. Built by Papa himself, the house is huge. The upstairs has 3 bedrooms, 2.5 bathrooms, a living room, a dining room, a family room, a kitchen and a spare room. The downstairs has a pool room/library, a pingpong room, 2 bedrooms, a bathroom, a huge storage room, and a shop. The house is set back from the road, and sits atop a hill. There is a great yard, and then trees sloping down and around the hill. It's common in the summer to see families of deer wandering the yard! (Perhaps I should consider a future in writing real estate ads?)

At least half of the happiest memories I have from my childhood happened at Grandma and Papa's house. Every Christmas and Easter dinner took place there surrounded by the most amazing family in the world. Birthdays, school holidays, special occasions, they all took place up on the hill. My heart and head are being flooded with so many happy memories, I can't even begin to think of how I'd put them into words: family reunions, summer picnics on the front lawn, building forts in the trees, walking to get the mail and stopping to pick periwinkles in the summer, sledding down the hill in the winter, it's impossible to list all the things that went on in that house.

Christmas was ALWAYS at Grandma and Papa's house. Nothing in the world was better than singing carols around the tree on Christmas Eve. Papa would play an old Mitch Miller cassette of songs, and everyone would gripe and complain about how horrible it was, and then join in the tradition of the ever-cheesy family sing-along. Then it was laying milk and cookies on the mantle before heading off to bed and waiting for Santa to come. In the morning, Papa would make scrambled eggs and bacon for the whole family on the wood stove, while us kids were going crazy not being allowed in to the living room to see the tree until EVERYONE finised breakfast! After the mountain of presents were opened, it was homemade macaroni and cheese for lunch. A few hours later would be turkey dinner, with the dining room table often streching almost to the far wall across the living room, as dinner often included more than 25 people. After dinner was board games, which always ended up in a few raised voices, but even more laughs.

As great as Christmas was, it's almost the little things I rememeber more fondly. I can remember sleeping over on the weekends when I was little (a very regular occurence) and loving waking up in the morning because it meant we could go sniggle in with Grandma in her bed. Papa would bring us tea, and we would cuddle, and point to the wrinkles on Grandma's face. She told us she had a story for each wrinkle, and it always seemed to be true. Stories about when we were babies, about when our mom and aunts and uncles were little, no matter how many times we asked, she'd always come up with a story for us.

And the tea. If there was ever a "Tea Granny", it would be my Grandma. Tea before breakfast, tea in the middle morning, tea after lunch, tea late afternoon, tea after dinner, and tea before bed. And of course, Papa would always make it, with the greatest happiness. The man has infinite talents, but taking the most amazing care of his girls certainly seems to be the top of the list. Grandma has always told me never to settle for a man that doesn't treat me as well as Papa treats her, and while it's a nearly impossibly high standard, I know she's right. My grandparents have been happily married for 62 years, and I've never met two more amazing people in my entire life.

My Grandma was acutally a preschool teacher, and the year I was in 4-year-old preschool was her last year teaching. My class was the last she ever taught, and as a retirement gift, we bought her a maple tree, which, after a few years in a wooden pot, got planted in the middle of her front yard. On my last day in Canada before heading to this side of the world, I went for dinner and Grandma and Papa's, knowing it was the last time I'd be in that house. As I cuddled on the couch with Grandma before I left, I glanced out and saw the tree. It kind of stuck me as kind of symbolic. It grew as we grew. Now it's a full grown tree, just as my preschool friends and I are now grown. I guess that's the way life goes. Trees grow, we grow, people change, we move houses, and countries, and still the world keeps turning.

Still, it's hard not to be home today. Writing this post brought back memories I hadn't though about in years. I've been smiling through my tears, thinking about the great times I've had there. They say home is where the heart is, and today, my heart is in a house in Ryder Lake, surrounded by my incredible family, laughing and loving and, of course, drinking tea.

-Delaney

Just another day in paradise

If you want to build a ship, don't drum up people together to collect wood and don't assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea. -Antoine de Saint-Exupery"

Today was a really great, great day. Luc Panissod, the head of the entire World Scout Bureau, is in Nairobi to help conduct the interviews for a new Regional Director at our office, so I was determined to make a great impression. I dressed up in the best outfit I could wrangle together: a goldish skirt, black sweater and black heels. I even straightened my hair for the occasion! As it turns out, he didn't come to the office today, but it turned out being one of those times you have a great day just because you feel really great.

The day was still really awesome though, even though Luc didn't come to the office. Winston and Elzette, who both work in our satellite offices, were in the office. Wintston is in town to help with the interveiw, and Elzette was in the office to finish the "Yearly Operational Plan", which is a report that gets submitted annually to Geneva. It gives a detailed budget and projected outcomes and indicators for each of the year's objectives. The objectives in the YOP are divided into 4 sections: Youth Programme, Adult Resources, Projects and Partnerships, and Communications.

Elzette mentioned on the ride to work this morning that she might need my help today, and sure enough, within 10 minutes of settling into my desk, she popped her head in my office and asked me to come to the board room when I got a chance. I headed right down, and was totally taken aback by the sight. There were papers spread all over the desk, huge diagrams on the walls, a huge matrix taped on the board, and an entire whiteboard covered in lists and diagrams. As it turns out, the YOP was due to be submitted yesterday, so the pressure was on!

Euloge, the Communications director, is at a conference in Eygpt this week, so Elzette handed me the section on communcations, gave me a few reference documents, and basically told me to fill in all the blanks, and then disappeared to a meeting with Winston, leaving me alone and rather shell-shocked in the board room. I spent the next few hours creating Project Results and Indicators, classifying Activity types, and making sure that the Triennial Objectives were being met. It was very daunting, but I got it all done by lunch. After we ate, Winston, Elzette, Jacques, Guy (the accountanting director), Kennedy (the accountant), Amos (IT guy) and I all had a meeting in the boardroom to finalize the budget and go over any last concerns. Once we had addressed everything, Elzette and I spent about 15 minutes doing a final proof read, before handing it off to Guy, for him to finalize the budget.

It was really high stress, and SO exciting. I can't tell you how grown-up I felt all dressed up, on my computer, in the board room, helping to complete this important report for this huge global organization. When I went to thank Elzette at the end of the day, she thanked me, and said how much she appreciated that she was able to tell me what she needed and then leave me to it. She said I was very capable, and definately held my own, which was the hugest compliment. I basically flew on wings back to my office. By that time, it was almost 430, so I sat and chit-chatted with Elly until it was time to go home.

On the way, he was nice enough to stop for 5 minutes at the store so I could run in and buy butter, since I promised Amos I'd bring cookies to the office tomorrow. Since the Canada Day cupcakes, he's been asking on a regular basis when I'd be bringing snacks again, so I'd been promising him that this week while the girls are way, I'd have a ton of free time to bake. The other day I made Rice Krispie Squares. They were quite a hit, but not the way you'd think. No one seemed to really like them (since half of them had never heard of marshmellows, they were a little wary). However, they thought the name of them was HILARIOUS! Apparently to everyone here, the name "Rice Krispie Square" is somewhat of a tongue twister. Even today, people would look at me, and start giggling as they tried to say it. So for tomorrow, I've made a much easier snack to pronounce: cookies! They are sugar cookies with vanilla icing and sprinkles, and they taste SO amazing, I can hardly believe I made them!

I was really sad today when I looked at my calendar and acutally counted the number of days I have left in the office. Only 12 more days!!!! Between my time at the orphange, my trip to Rwanda, and my possible trip to Rwanda at the end of the summer, I only have TWELVE more days at work, which makes me so sad. I am so happy working there. The hours are great, the work is fascinating, and I've made real friends. The thought of leaving so soon absolutely tears at my heart. I guess I'll just have to make the most of the rest of my time, and hopefully some day I can be lucky enough to have a real job that I thouroughly enjoy as much as this.

-Delaney xo

My weekend in HELL!

"Defeat is not the worst of failures. Not to have tried is the true failure.
-George Edward Woodberry"

So this weekend was definitely the most miserable weekend I've spent here in Nairobi, but I hope to someday look back on it fondly... Graham, his friend Taylor, Hans and I went on a weekend trip to Lake Naivasha to go cycling in Hell's Gate National Park. We got up bright and early Saturday morning, and we were downtown ready to catch a matatu to the base camp by 7am. The ride there was remarkably easy and uneventful, so easy in fact that it put us all a little on edge. For instance, it was so cheap! Less than 250 shillings to get there, which is amazing, considering it costs up to 500 shillings just to get home from the grocery store in a taxi, which is a five minute drive from home.

We arrived at the Fisherman's Camp on the shores of Naivasha by about 930. We checked into our banda, an endearing little shack with two single beds and two bunk beds and the luxury of a toilet!!! We had a quick breakfast and headed down to the dock in hopes of seeing the hippos that live in the lake. There were no hippos, but we did meet Marco, who we hired for the day to be our guide. We walked to the main office, all picked a bicycle, and the adventure began.

*Note* It is important to comment at this point that
a) I acutally cannot remember the last time I was on a bicycle
b) I am in the worst shape of anyone I know

To get to the main road, we had to go up a really short, steep hill. The group of them peeled out of the lot, leaving me huffing and puffing and skidding and stopping in near tears about 10ft from the starting line. Marco changed my gears on the bike (it has gears?!) and I (barely) made it up the hill. Then it was about 3 km down the main road. By the time we got to the turnoff for the park, my butt was so sore, and I was having serious second thoughts. The turn-off led to a gradually inclining gravel hill which led for 2km to the main gate. Before the gate was even in sight, I was totally, completely done. I was falling so far behind the group, that Marco had to come back and see what my problem was. At that point, actual tears were forming in my eyes, and I told him that I really didn't think I was cut out for a biking extravaganza, and that I'd better return to camp. Marco said I couldn't, and not to worry, that the beginnning part was the worst, and that many people want to turn around there, and then end up loving the day, so I had no choice but to perservere.

*Note #2
I really went into this with an open mind. I wasn't whining or snivling or trying to be dramatic, I was acutlly just sincerely struggling. It was harder than I could have imagined.

So we finally made it through the gate, and headed down the path, and for a while, we were at a nice easy pace, and I thought "Ok, this Marco guy knows what he's talking about.... this is gonna be ok!". We saw this huge, crazy beautiful rock formation in the distance, rode right up to it. It turns out there was a guy there, and you were allowed to rock-climb it! I was totally down for the idea, and so Taylor and I each took a turn scaling this amazing spire in the middle of this park. It wasn't too hard at all, and really rewarding. (Looking back, it was the thing that will forever remain in my memory as "the thing that made the day from hell worthwhile!"

Then it was back on the bikes and towards the gorge. We saw tons of zebras and giraffes, and Marco, who is like the most chill guy on the planet let us go running off through the grass towards the animals, which was probably hugely against the park rules, but a total blast!! Then back on the bikes and closer to the gorge.

By the time we got to the gorge, I was quickly losing the will to live. When we made it there, and I was overwhelmed with happiness for the chance to be off the bike for awhile. We had a quick picnic lunch consisting of cashews, digestives, cokes, fruit bars, and a mento each for desert, then we headed off into the gorge for the hiking part of the day.

The gorges were BEAUTIFUL! We hiked through the thin pathways, at some points having to jump off rocks to the lower parts or having to walk on super thin slippery edges while trying to avoid falling into the 6m deep murky water!It was amazing! Hell's Gate National Park is home to some of the world's hottest natural hotsprings, so there were tons of little streams of water flowing down the walls of the gorge.
At one point, we all got to have an impromptu shower/head dunk in the hot water, which was so refreshing and fun. Then we did a really short hike up to the top of the gorge, stopping for Marco to decorate us all with traditional Maasai warrior paint on our faces (basically natural, thick, red clay).

At the top of the gorge, you could see for miles and miles and miles, and it was one of the prettiest places I've ever seen. However, my joy was short lived, as it was then back to the bikes. The worst part of the riding was that it was the bumpiest gravel road ever! The physical pain of riding on a too-small bike down a gravel road was even worse than the aching legs and out-of-breathness. I acutally came home with bruised palms and inner thighs from all of the bumps. I made it all the way back to camp, but barely. I feel like I should be proud of myself for presevering and making it though the whole day, and maybe some day I will, but at this point, I really hate the thought of even looking at another bike as long as I live!

When we got back to camp, we relaxed for a bit, then had a nice dinner and then a campfire before bed. It felt like bieng at summer at home, hanging out with friends sharing stories around the fire! We all slept like babies that night! We got up Sunday morning and took the matatus back to town, and had a nice relaxing evening, then today was back to work. I was almost giddy in the van on the way to work today. It was like a Friday evening feeling, only I was so glad that the weekend in Hell was over that I was ecstatic to be coming back to the office to rest my poor weary body!

The whole biking trip was a total of about 30 kilometers, which is about the distance between Chilliwack and Abbotsford. Eww. While I enjoyed the rock climbing/gorge/camp out aspects of the weekend, the cycling was honestly something I'd never want to experience again. However, Hans and Graham agree that it was one of the best parts of their summer, so I really am glad I got the chance to share it with them!

-Delaney xo

How do I miss thee?

"Certainly, travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living. -Miriam Beard"

Oh, home, today I miss you desperately!

Ok, maybe thats a bit melodramatic. Truthfully, I haven't experienced and significant homesickness since I've been here. Knowing that my time here is so short, it doesn't seem worth it to waste any time here being sad. Of course I miss my family and friend, but with modern technologies, I probably keep in touch with my loved ones better now than I did when I was home.

What I do miss terribly are the conveniences of home. This story perfectly illustrates how life in Nairobi can make you yearn for the carefree way of life at home:

After I spend a good hour making a chicken-rice-stirfry dinner without using any Nairobi tapwater (harder than it sounds)I headed to my room to pack for the biking trip we are embarking on at the unearthly hour of 6am tomorrow. And to my avail, I had no clean underwear left. Impromptu laundry time ensued.

Only, if you remember, laundry can not just be chucked into the washer and drier. No. Laundry is a time-consuming, skin wrinkling affair. After I finished washing and wringing dry 14 pairs of underwear, I realized that they would not be able to dry in time for wearing/packing for the biking extravaganza. No, I couldn't hope for the luxury of a drier....unless....hmmm.... perhaps I could BLOWDRY them?

Yes. It's true. As I sat with the blowdrier in one hand and a pair of panties in the other, I started REALLY missing home, and so I composed this list of "Things I Miss" in my head for you:

(Please, enjoy these things twice as much for me while I'm gone!)

1) Having a washer/drier
2) Drinking tap water in the shower
3) Drinking tap water in a glass
4) Cooking with tap water
5) Clean tap water in general
6) Going to the beach
7) DQ Blizzards (Skor + Cookie Dough = HEAVEN)
8) Walking out my front door and being at work 4 minutes later
9) Mom tidying up after me (haha!)
10) Being able to walk down the street without being contantly apprehensive
11) Being able to have completely platonic friendships with boys
12) Feeling safe on the roads
13) Eating a good steak!
14) Straightning my hair! (My straightner blew the first day here!)
15) Being able to safely leave the house after dark
16) Eating crackers! (There's a strange lack of crackers, even in the "Mzungu"-grocery stores!


The other day I broke down in tears because I got so irritated at being taken advantage of by taxi drivers. A ride that should have cost me 400 shillings ($6.40) cost me 600 shillings ($9.60), just because of the colour of my skin. I got madder and madder on the way home in said cab, thinking about how essentially, that counts as rasism. I got more and more worked up on the drive, and was in tears by the time I got in my front door. I realized later that if thats the worst racism I experience in my life, I've got it pretty damn good, but it was the principle that bugged me.

So that's my current thoughts, in a nut shell. I miss life in Canada, but despite my complaints, things really are so great here too. As a matter of fact, writing this list has got me thinking about a future list of "Things I'll Miss About Africa"..... but I guarantee, handwashing won't be on it!

-Delaney xo

PS: For those of you wondering about the briefly mentioned "biking trip" tomorrow, I'm going to keep you in suspense. But don't fret, I have plenty of fruit bars packed..... xo

Rwanda!

"We cannot turn the clock back nor can we undo the harm caused, but we have the power to determine the future and to ensure that what happened never happens again" - Paul Kagame, President of Rwanda

I am the first to admit that I've never really cared much for current events. I don't follow (or even really understand) politics. I hated social studies class in school growing up. It just never really interested me. Now I find myself sincerely regretting that lack of interest. I seem to have tapped into this deep desire inside of me to understand EVERYTHING I possibly can about Africa and the issues and politics and events of this struggling nation. So much of it goes over my head because I just never built the basic framework of knowledge I need to understand what is going on around me.

In an attempt to play catch-up on the concepts I've never grasped, I've been spending hours every day reading and learning and trying to get a hold on some of these crazy concepts swirling around me: capitalism, micro-finance, government structure, communism, socialism, democracy, genocide...The list goes on and on. Don't get me wrong, while I have an idea of what each thing entails, it's certainly not engrained in my head.

I've been learning so much about Kenya on a daily basis, through newspapers and keeping my ears peeled at all times, and it's just made me want to learn about all of the countries I keep hearing about on a daily basis: Tanzania, Uganda, Rwanda, South Africa, Swaziland...the list goes on and on. I decided that as a way to broaden my horizons, I would research a different country for an hour or two each day. At that rate, I would have enough time to research at last the sub-Saharan countries before the end of the summer, and would hopefully go home with at least a base understanding of the current situation in this part of the world.

My first day, I spent a few hours learning about Swaziland. It wasn't too interesting, so I moved on to Rwanda, which absolutely captured my heart. I spent probably five straight hours reading about Rwanda's history, with an intense focus on the genocide which occured in 1994.

There are two main tribes in Rwanda: the Tutsis and the Hutus. Essentially, they've been conflicted for many many years. In 1994, over the course of 100 days, Hutu extremists (back by the Rwandan government, police force and military) killed a million Tutsis. Men, women, and children were slaughtered in a completely senseless bloodbath that eliminated a huge part of the Tutsi population. If you break it down, 10 000 people were killed a day, 400 an hour, SEVEN PEOPLE EVERY MINUTE. It is absolutely chilling and horrifying, and so very unjustified. The Hutus killed at a rate five times faster than the Nazis during the Halocaust. It's truly enough to make you sick. A tenth of the Rwandan people died in just 100 days.

I got the most phenominal book from the bookstore, its called "Shake Hands with the Devil: The Failure of Humanity in Rwanda". It's written by Lt.Gen. Romeo Dallaire, a Canadia solider who was the Force Commander of the UN mission in Rwanda during the genocide. The UN has been blamed for not doing enough to stop the carnage, and Dallaire is the first to admit that the UN failed the people of Rwanda. The book is hailled as the most accurate eye-witness account of the genocide, and while its a really heavy read, I would strongly recommend it. While Dallaire is quick to point out the UN's failings, he doesn't do so without also remarking times when he too could have chosen a smarter path of action.

After doing all of this reading, I was filled with an overwhelming urge to visit Rwanda, which has turned 180 degrees in the past 15 years. It is undergoing rapid development, and is trying to evolve from an agriculture-based economy to a knowledge-based economy. The current president, Paul Kagame, has been credited with turning Rwanda into "Africa's Success Story". It is now safe for tourists, and nicknamed "Land of 1000 Hills", is supposedly an aboslutely beautiful country.

Last night I was over for a visit with Hans, Amanda, Shelby and Heather. (I don't know if I mentioned before, Shelby and Heather came on the Trinity Western University Study Tour, and when the rest of the students went home, they stayed for a few more weeks. As a matter of fact, neither of them acutally go to TWU, they go to SFU and UBC, kind of beside the point I guess....). We got talking about books and what we were all reading, and I got talking about "Shake Hands with the Devil", and how I can't stand the fact that I'm so close to Rwanda, and I'm not going to make it there. Somehow, I made some joke about how if anyone had a few spare days, I would be happy to pop over to Rwanda with them to see the sights, and Shelby acutally said she would be able to.

We talked it over for a good hour or so, and realized this plan actually had some potential. The more we reasoned it out, it would be insane NOT to go. We can get flights for a reasonable price, and hotels and transport in Kigali (the capital city) are very inexpensive. We checked the International Travel Warnings to ensure that it was safe for us to go, and found that it's seemingly safer than Kenya. Admittedly, we'll have to exercise the same amount of caution as we do here, but overall, it seems like we can put this plan into action.

I came to work this morning knowing that getting time off from work is the only hurdle I'd be facing to make this little mini-vacation happen. Luckily, this is practically the greatest job in the world, and Jacques was totally fine with me taking a week off, and acutally spend some time telling me about things to do in Kigali. The awesomest part: he's going to put me in contact with the Rwanda Scouts Association, and that will help tie this in with what I'm doing at the ARO. I'll be able to go to the office and introduce myself and spend some time there in an official capacity as well!

So the long and short of it is, IM GOING TO RWANDA! We will be there from August 3rd-7th. The top priority is definitely the Kigali Genocide Memorial Center, which is an incredibly inspirational museum/memorial dedicated to the 1 174 000 Rwandans who lost their lives during the 100 day slaughter. As well, we will be able to visit "Hotel Mille Collines", which was the location featured in the movie "Hotel Rwanda" (which I still have never seen!!!!). You can also go to a church about half an hour out of town where a huge mass slaughter of 10 000 occured, and where there is still piles of bloody clothes and shelves of skeletons, serving to remind people of just how real this crisis really was.

This trip certainly won't be about fun and sunshine and laughter, and I'm totally ok with that. The things we'll see will certainly make us think, and cry, and feel ashamed for how the citizens of the world failed the people of Rwanda just 15 short years ago. However, it feels amazing to find this passion, and to care so much about learning and understanding what really happened in Rwanda. If people don't try to understand why such atrocities take place, we can be assured that they will happen again. In the Darfur region of Sudan, the same thing is happening right now. When will the global community finally take a stand and care enough for one another to ensure that these acts of evil end?

Life's Not Fair

"Nobody said it would be easy... No one ever said it would be so hard..."
-Coldplay

I'm angry at the world today. It was a ridiculously emotional day, and I'll explain as best I can.

Being here and seeing such horrifying levels of poverty on a daily basis has been hard, but not impossible. Even when walking through the worst parts of Kibera, it's hard to acutally imagine living in such conditions. It's almost like you can't fully let yourself absorb the situation, or it will overwhelm and devastate you. Maybe it's not the best way to fully experience a new culture, but I've found that the only way you can deal with it is to try and keep your emotions checked at the door, so to speak. Mentally absorb the things you are seeing, while keeping your emotions out of the equation. This approach was serving me quite well, until today.

It was like probably our 10th or 11th day at the orphanage. We did an activity with the children where they mapped out their communities for us, and then talked about what the liked about their communities, whether they felt safe, or scared, or secure, and what they considered the most urgent need in their community, in order to hopefully get grant money put to the most effective use. We took them one-on-one to determine their background to see how that affected their wishes and fears and desires. We split the kids into two groups: the orphans/boarders, and the children who live in the surrounding village.

One of the first kids I talked to is a boy in my class, who I've adored since day one (let's call him Bob). Now, Bob is just about the sweetest thing you've ever seen. Huge brown curious eyes, and a permanent smile glued on his face. He sits in the first row of the class, and always knows the answer. While the other kids want to colour or do PE, all Bob wants to do is learn. I think my particular affinity for him really took off the day he came to school in a Scout uniform. The kid is just precious, and helpful, and innocent, and could melt your heart in an instant.

I found out today when we started talking to each kid individually that he is acutally one of the boarders at the school. With the help of Eunice to translate, the wife of Pastor Simon/the head teacher at the school, I started to ask Bob about his community (which is basically the compound). He was sweet and outgoing and helpful as usual. However, when Eunice started telling me about his background, everything changed. As it turns out, Bob was orphaned at a very young age. A friend of a friend of a friend of someone or other took him in, and together they came from upcountry to Nairobi. At some point, this guardian decided they didn't want to care for him anymore. Somehow, he ended up at the gate of the orphange with one bag of clothes, crying and begging to be taken in because he just wanted to learn. At this point, Bob was on the verge of tears, and when he turned to look at me, he started sobbing, which prompty launched me into tears at well. I gave him a huge hug, and tried not to let him see me with my eyes, which were just brimming with tears. Bob has basically been at the orphanage ever since, and he just excels. When he calmed down and went outside, Eunice was teary eyed as well, and told me how she just used to cry when children would show up at the gates, needing to be fed and schooled and just loved.

What surprised me was that all of the children who stay at the orphanage aren't acutally orphans. While some of the are, the majority of them are from the adjacent village. Most commonly, they come from single-parent homes, where the parent (usually the mother) is HIV positive, and simply can't care for them. So they come live at the center, and are brought to the village to see their parents whenever possible. By the end of talking to the boarders, my heart was in a billion little pieces. I just couldn't grasp how life could get any more unfair then it was for these beautiful children, until I started talking to the kids from the community.

Their stories were even sadder. While every boarder commented on how safe they felt, almost every child from the outside community commented on how unsafe they felt, due to "theifs", "abusive drunk men", and even "teachers who hit us" (don't even get me started on that one; suffice to say that teachers are able to hit children here, and I've had to walk out of my classroom in anger so as not to pummell the teacher across the room). While the boarders commented on how the best part of their community was "sleeping on a bed", the kids from the town often live in small, one bedroom houses with up to 8 or 9 people living and sleeping on the floor of the one tiny room.

It's funny how perceptions change. On my first day, when I saw the dormatory where the 20 boys share 5 bunkbeds, I was so shocked and saddned. Now that I find out that this is a high point of their lives, and that they are the really lucky ones, it kind of breaks my heart even more. Despite every sad story I heard today, the truth is that these kids are so lucky. They get at least 2 meals a day, they have roofs over their heads, they attend class regularly, they have people who care about them.

It was just such a hard day, hearing these personal stories about these perfect children who I've grown to care about so quickly. How is it fair that they were born into the life they live, while I was born into mine? I have more than I could ever need, and they have so little, and yet manage to keep smiling ALL the time. It just saddens me to my very core. I can't imagine going home and never knowing what happens to these kids. At this point, I would do anytihng on earth to help them and at the same time, it feels like it would never seem like enough. There are just so many needs, and meeting them all could just never ever happen.

I guess the best I can do is just love them and listen to them and play with them and guide them in the short time that I have left here. Maybe some day, I will be fortunate enough to return to see the people that they are growing into. I met someone the other day who's university tuition here in Nairobi was actually paid for by a couple from Langely, of all places! Part of me feels like putting money away every week now, in the hopes that in 10 years, I could try to do the same thing for Bob, or an amazingly deserving person like him.

I guess I'm glad that I finally opened up to acutally "feeling" Africa, instead of "observing" it, but truly, I ache inside for these kids, and the millions more like them. I think what I am getting out of this experience the most is that the most important thing you can do in life is to give of yourself as much as you possibly can. Maybe the reason we were born into such privelige is to be able to help people who aren't as fortunate. It's really the only way to make sense out of an injustice that is so crushingly senseless.

-Delaney xo

The Office

Happiness comes of the capacity to feel deeply, to enjoy simply, to think freely, to risk life, to be needed.
Storm Jameson

So I'm going to be a super huge dork, and upload another post an hour after my last post... Here's the thing: I love this job. I feel like I got the best internship placement possible.

I am so infatuated with working in an office. I love the fact that I get to dress up in nice clothes every day. I love the sound of my high heels clicking as I walk down the hall. I love printing things, and fetching them from the printer in the lobby. I love unlocking my office door every morning, and sitting down at my desk. I love opening up my work email account, and sifting through all of the messages that have accumulated overnight, and trying to figure out what is relevant to me and what isn't. I love when we get to go for meetings in the boardroom. I love when coworkers ask for my input and acutally take it into account, since I'm just an intern. I love making small talk at the water cooler (acutally!).

An office culture is one that I've never experienced, and I just can't get enough. While some things still baffle me ( like when you call someone in the next office, and you can hear them clearly through the hall, so the phone really isn't necessary...?), overall, I just love love love it! The other day, the work van broke down, so they arranged a car to take me to work. I was picked up by this really nice car, with tinted windows and a super classy interior.I remember looking down and my skirt and heels and blouse, and feeling like such an adult. For a month, I've felt kind of like a kid "playing office", but the more time that goes by, the more I feel like I really do belong here.

I could see myself doing a job like this forever. I remember coming home from my very first day at Save-on-Foods and going on and on about how scanning groceries was the funnest experience of my life, and how I could be a cashier forever, but this feeling is so different. I mean, yes, there is still a high amount of novelty associated with coming to work, but the thing is, I enjoy it more and more every day, not less. So it can't be all novelty, because that wears off over time.

The best part is that this job feels so meaninful. Instead of working for a huge big greedy corporation, I'm working for a group that does so much good. The course I'm taking in the fall, "Intro to Non-profit Management" is something I just can't wait for! There are so many different avenues you can take in business, and I'm getting a really great view of all the departments, and what everyone does, and I find it so exciting. A career in communications or management look amazing... I am just so inspired, I can't imagine leaving at the end of the summer... It will be so hard to return to the life of a university student who works and studies full time, but knowing that it will get me closer to being able to do this as a career will helpfully push me through it.

Nothing beats the feeling of finishing a project you've been working for a month on. I finished the partnership documents today, and it feels so amazing. Then we sent out an email today requesting info from all of the sub-offices and co-workers here requesting information so that I can compile the Triennial report, and I can't even wait until it starts coming in so I can get a start on that. I am just loving every second of being here, and I'm trying to learn everything I possibly can. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

-Delaney xo

The Funeral

JUST FOR A WHILE

You walk about hurriedly
You drive by much too fast
Rushing past too serious
You worry too much
Slow down for a while and look around again

Take time to look around
To observe the glory of a blossoming flower
The grace of a playful kitten
Hear again the gurgling of the crystal stream
The musical ring of children’s laughter
Take time and savour the pleasure of a sunny day
Small things you say, for which you have no time

You are too busy accumulating money you will never spend
But do not forget you are only human
You can only sleep on one bed, drive one car
You can only eat much in a day
Ease the pleasure on your ego

Pause for a little while and recount your blessing
Your healthy body and mind
The precious gift of those who love you
The innocence of the children, the beauty of women
Life has been too kind to you
Stop and thank your neglected God

Thus take time off for these things that are so small
Yet so important that life is made of them
To breathe the crisp morning air
To exercise your body, appease your spirit
Stop just for a while
And live anew

Kinuthia Murugu

Everyone at the Africa Regional Office has been so welcoming and accomodating since I got here last month. They have really made me feel like part of the office family. As with any family, they stick together in the bad times as well as the good times. As I mentioned in my last post, Kinuthia Murugu, the old Regional Director here at the Africa Regional Office, died last week, as a result of injuries he sustained during a carjacking last month. The entire office went to the funeral, so naturally I attended as a show of support for these wonderful people who have been so unwaveringly kind to me.

While I was hoping to experience as many cultural events as possible this summer, it never crossed my mind that a funeral might be one of them. When Murugu left the Scout office, it was to pursue a government job, as Permanent Secretary of the Youth and Sports Ministry. Because he was a government employee, it became a state funeral, which was quite an experience.

We all met at a central location in town together to head to the funeral. Everyone was dressed in an official Scout uniform with the token purple ribbon around their necks (while I didnt have the uniform, they did give me a ribbon so that it would be identified that I was with them). We drove through town to Starehe Boy's School, which is one of the best schools in Kenya. While it is an incredibly beautiful, presigous boarding school, I was happy to learn that instead of catering to rich families, it accepts exceptionally bright underprivelaged children. This was to be the site of the the first part of the day: the memorial service.

We took our seats outside, where there were many large white tents, with hundreds of chairs spread across the grass. A few minutes later, 2 of our coworkers (who had been pallbearers much earlier in the morning at the funeral home) came out from the chapel to tell us that there were several pews saved for the office staff inside right near the front of the chapel. We were seated inside by 9am. The service was scheduled to begin at 10, but because the President and Prime Minister were attending (!!!) the service didn't begin until at least 10:30. It wasn't over until almost 3pm! That meant we sat in the hard, wooden pews for 6 straight hours!

The service wasn't really what I was expecting. The reason it was so long was that there were SO many speeches given, from past coworkers, Murugu's son, his best friend, the President, the Prime Minister, etc. Given that a normal Sunday church service can go for 4 hours, I was expecting alot more preaching, instead of the 45 minutes or so that happened yesterday. Also, everyone was very stoic. I don't think I saw anyone cry. His son (who was only 14 or so) choked up at one point during his speech (bringing me very close to tears!) but that was the biggest outward display of emotion I saw all day.

Once the service ended, we all hurried to the van to head to Murugu's land outside of town, where he was to be buried. We had packed the van with food that morning, so since we were all famished, we devoured our food on the way to the site. The girls from the office had ordered packed lunches (a sandwich and an apple), and I brought along bananas and a small bag of mixed nuts for everyone, it was plenty of food to get by. The drive out of town took ages, it was the start of rush hour, and there were SO many people at the funeral that we were heading to the grave site as well.

Somehow, although we left immediately after the service and drove straight there, we were late! This was the part of the day where we were supposed to lay the wreath at the grave. We pulled up on the opposite side of this enormous ravine. This whole area was where they grow world famous tea leaves, and the ground is pure red powdered dirt. We literally RAN down the steep slope of this ravine, charged up the other side, and arrived at the grave panting, at the exact second that they announced "World Scout Bureau". One of the guys from the office dashed up and grabbed the wreath, and layed it right in time. Then there was a short prayer, and everyone was given a rose or a handful of dirt to throw into the grave, and that was the end of the service.

We stood around quietly joking and laughing about our run across the the ravine, and then gathered everyone up for the walk back to the van. This time, since we obviously weren't late for anything, we slowly sauntered around the valley back to the van. The most exciting thing happened! We saw the Presidential caravan drivng up towards us, and I got a picture of the president's car!! Now, you have to understand, this is a huge no-no. You aren't allowed to take pictures at the Statehouse, or of the President's car. I had been begging Amos (who I had lent my camera to in order to take pictures all day, since he knows when its appropriate to take pictures and when it isn't) to take a picture of the President's car, but he wouldn't. When it drove up, he handed me the camera, and I grabbed a quick snap, and then waved at the President! Sometimes, being an "oblivious-to-the-rules" tourist really pays off!!

It was funny being away from the downtown part of the city. I was the only mzungu that I could see at the burial site, and some of the local village children would literally point open-mouthed at me. As Euloge (another co-worker) pointed out, many of them rarely, if ever, see a white person. It also garnered a huge laugh when a whole truckload of soldiers gaped openmouthed at me and then started waving as they drove by; all the guys from my office teased me mercilessly about it, telling everyone I had new soldier boyfriends.

The drive back into town was probably one of the funnest times I've had since I got here. (It seems so horrible to look back on the day of a funeral as one of my best memories here, but it's like at the end of an emotional day like yesterday, everyone needs to just relax and try and allieviate some of the tension and sadness, you know?). While everyone at the office is so nice to me, until yesterday, it had never progressed past "Hi, how are you? Are you enjoying Kenya? How's the weather" kind of small talk. On the drive home yesterday, it finally crossed into friend territory. I learned about people's wives (or lack thereof), I saw pictures of their children, I learned about who went to University, and where, and what they studied. They asked me all sorts of questions about Canada, and University back home, and mortgages, and marriage in Canada, and social customs, and the difference between here and there. It was just to nice to relate to these people that I see every day on a much more personal level. It was definitely reminiscient of elementary school, when the bus ride is the best part of a field trip, and you almost don't want to arrive at your destination because you are having such a good time!

On a different note, things at work are going really well. I have finished my contribution to the "Connecting Africa's Youth for Change" project proposal, and they informed me that they will take my draft, and really get the ball rolling on this project, which is such an accomplishment. I also had my meeting Tuesday afternoon to develop a framework and plan in order to finish the 2005-2008 Triennial Report by the time I go home. I'm so excited to get a start on that, so now that the ball is rolling there too, I can't wait (although embarking on my final project is a little bittersweet, I don't want to think about going home yet!!).

I've also started to experience my first touch of frustration about life in the business world. I am acting as sort of a liason between UFV and the office here in order to develop a Memorandum of Understanding (an informal partnership contract between the two entities). Every time one side is ready to sign, the other side wants revisions. Then when everyone is happy and ready to sign, no one is in the same town at the same time. And then more revisions are requested...and so it continues... However, if a little red tape is the least of my concerns, I certainly can't complain.

Outside of the office, not much is new... The girls are going to Somaliland next week for 8 days as a part of their internship. I'm so glad Graham is here, I can't imagine how lonely I'd be here alone, even for 8 days. I don't know how the past UFV interns handled it, I couldn't imagine being alone here all summer long!

We are trying to plan the rest of out summer. We might make a weekend trip to Hell's Gate National Park to go on a cycling trip through super cool valleys and gorges and stuff. And hopefully, we are going to be able to spend the last week in Mombasa thanks to Heather's parents, and their timeshare. It's right on the Indian Ocean, so it's tropical, gorgeous, and hot!!! Considering that we will be getting home and starting school 5 days later, it would be great to get a little relaxing vacation time in before then!

Oh! Back to office talk... There are so many cute little monkeys that live outside the office, the other day we fed them bananas, there were 7 that came right up to the window. As I speak, I have my camera poised and bananas ready for when they come back (usually around 10am, they are on a pretty tight schedule out there!). Hopefully I'll get some awesome pictures!!!!

Thats all for today, hopefully I find something else exciting to report soon!

-Delaney xo

The Scary Side of Nairobi...

"For nothing is fixed, forever and forever and forever, it is not fixed; the earth is always shifting, the light is always changing, the sea does not cease to grind down rock. Generations do not cease to be born, and we are responsible to them because we are the only witnesses they have. The sea rises, the light fails, lovers cling to each other, and children cling to us. The moment we cease to hold each other, the sea engulfs us and the light goes out. -James Baldwin"

There is a sadness hanging over the office today. Kinuthia Murugu, who used to be the Regional Director here in the office, died during the night. This story epitomizes the way life is in Nairobi.

On June, I received an email that was circulated around the office, informing everyone that Murugu had been shot the night before. He was driving home at night, and his car was surrounded by bandits, who shot him four times in the chest and shoulder. A civilian heard the shots, ran outside, and got him to the hospital. He spent a week or two in the intensive care unit, and was then moved into the normal ward last week. Obviously, we all took this as a good sign, however, now we find out that it was simply a case of someone in worse condition than him that bumped him out of ICU before he was ready. I still don’t have many details, simply that he was moved back to ICU, where he died sometime last night or early this morning.

The mood was very sombre in the work van this morning; some had heard on the radio (Murugu was some sort of government official now, making his death actual news for the public), a few had received phone calls, and an unfortunate few had to be told in the van this morning. The mood is naturally very sad today, in a tightknit group of people like here in this office, I can imagine that its more like losing a family member than a colleague.

The "Connecting Africa's Youth for Change" proposal that I have been revising and updating for the last few weeks was originally written by Murugu. Although I never had a chance to meet him, this just further inspires me to do an amazing job finishing this proposal. I believe so much in this project, and now I feel even more motivated to do an amazing job in his memory.

This is the scary part about life in Nairobi. It's easy to get caught up in the mundane, day to day life that we live here and forget that we are living in such a dangerous city. I mean, I get picked up and dropped off at my doorstep every day for work, I never go ANYWHERE alone, and I'm never on the streets after dark, which I think has given me a false sense of security in this town. I mean, I don't think I could be any more cautious, really. But it's easy to lose sight of all the risks that we are facing here.

The scariest risks are probably hijackings/carjackings/kidnappings... the best you can do is lock your doors at all times and stay out of bad neighbourhoods, but even Murugu was shot in a safe neighbourhood that we drive through daily. Additional risks on the road include the corrupt police force. If they see a carload of "mzungus", apparently they will pull you over and find any excuse to fine you ridiculous amounts of money. In the past two weeks, Cherie and Amanda both had separate experiences. If you refuse to pay, they may drag you to court, which will land you in jail indefinitely. In other words, just give them what they want (within reason). I only carry the smallest amount of cash possible wherever I go, so that if I ever ended up in that situation, I wouldn't break the bank giving them all the cash I have on me! It's so frusterating!! You don't want to fuel the corruption by giving in to their demands, but you really don't have a choice...

Just a warning, the following stories are pretty chilling and/or graphic...

Probabely the scariest story I've heard yet happened to a missionary we heard about through Marg (Cherie's mom). Apparently this is a huge scam that happens: Bandits will kidnap someone and kill them, then they will take the body and lurk at the side of a dark road. Then the innocent person comes driving along, and the bandits will throw the body on the hood of the car. When the driver stops, assuming he has hit and killed a person, the bandits come out of the side of the road dressed as police, and basically extort the hell out of the innocent driver, telling them if they don't pay up, they will be charged with murder, blah blah blah... It's absolutely terrifying, and it makes me so glad we do not acutally have to drive here. There are only 3 people that I ever really drive with: Elly, and our 2 favorite cab drivers, Moses and Erastus. It is really great, everyone has cell phones here, so you just call up your cabby pal when you need to get around, and within minutes they are right there at your doorstep. It makes us feel alot safer driving around with people we know.

Another truly chilling story happened to our friend Hallie when she was working in Kibera. One day she was taking pictures of the kids playing, and they all ran over to see the pictures on the screen of the camera (all the kids are just fascinated by digital cameras). While she was holding the camera far away from her so all the kids could see the screen, a thief came up, grabbed the camera and ran off with it. She hollered out, and said that within seconds, up to 15 men went chasing after the theif. As common as theft is here, it is not respected by the majority of the law abiding locals. Here, theft is a terrible offense, one punishible by death. So amazingly, these men chased the theif through the narrow alleys and wove in between the tiny houses until the caught the man and got her camera back. For the record, the "man" was actually a young boy, about 16 years old.

So they dragged him back to the area where he had stolen the camera, and started beating on him. He was curled in a ball while the 15 men kicked and beat on him while Hallie watched, absolutely horrified. When one of the women lifted up a huge rock and was going to stone him, Hallie cried out and probably saved the mans life. It was astounding. They were going to kill him over stealing her camera. Granted, stealing is wrong, but no one deserves to lose their life over something so silly. When I was repeating the story to Elly the next morning, he told me the kid was lucky. Often, in similar circumstances, they will put a spare tire around a theifs neck, douse it with gasoline, and light a match...

It is so hard to believe that such barbaric acts are carried out here so normally. Mob mentality is a scary, scary concept. Once again, it makes me so happy for the feeling of security we have at home. I honestly feel like I could stroll down East Hastings with thousands of dollars of cash on me now, and not even bat an eye. Its hard to decide what are percieved risks and what risks are real, but I'm a firm believer in being safe rather than sorry, so this whole trip I've erred on the side of caution, which will definitely continue until I am back home safe in Canada!

-Delaney xo

Kenyan Kids and Canadian Mzungus

"If hope was a person, it would be a child. No matter what the tradgedy or circumstance, his true nature always shines through" - Take the Walk

As it turns out, being a Canadian/Westerner/white person makes you somewhat of a celebrity to Kenyan kids. Along the same lines as a "gringo", we are now "Mzungus", aka white people (we are still a little unclear as to whether "mzungu" includes everyone with white skin, or specifically caucasians, but anyway...)

Graham was the first one to fill us in on this phenomrnon because of the time he spend in Kisumu. We didn't get the full experience until we spent the day in Kibera. It was hilarious. When kids see you, they come running up to you "Mzungu, mzungu, how are you". All of them say "how are you" in the funniest little nasal voice, apparently thats how we sound to them. Every child you pass says this to you! Even the 2 and 3 year olds say it to you, and you can tell they don't even know what they are saying because they slur the words until they are barely untelligible. They just know that's what they say to us white folk whenever they see us. Even funnier is the fact that even the big kids, who seem like they would know what they are saying, seem totally stumped when you answer "I'm fine, how are you??".

It was absolutely crazy! Every single child we passed would say "How are you??"... Some would come right up and grab your hand and walk for blocks with you not even saying a world...the more timid kids would cower in their doorways, and just mouth the words without a peep. But no exaggeration (I know, hard to believe, coming from me) EVERY kid takes part in the "How are you" chorus. (I have to mention that at one point so many kids were chanting it that Graham acutally held his hands up and pretended to be an orchestra conductor..haha!)

The kids are so fascinated by us...They barely have any body hair, so they can't get over playing with our arm hair. And the hair on our heads, it fascinates them. At the orphanage, every day the girls take out our hair and play with it for as long as we'll let them. Sometimes they will put it in little braids and twists (which are a total pain to take out since they get so tangled and caked with dirt), where as other days they are perfectly content to just stand there and stroke our hair softly. Other times they will just hold our hands in theirs and examine our palms, or gently trace our blue veins with their fingertips.



Some of the kids are just so damn sweet you wouldn't believe it. They day of our Kibera cleanup, at the end of the route was a little bridge, we sat down for a few minutes to rest beside Derek, a cute little boy about 10 years old, dressed in a camo pant and jacket set. He was quiet for a few minutes, but slowly he started talking to us while we sat there. Then it was time to walk into town for the infamous (and SUPER fabulous) street food. The mundazis (deep fried bread balls, basically) were about 25c each, so since my pal Derek hasn't left my side, I bought him one, and basically made a friend for life. By the time I offered him the last inch of coke (that I'd bought for about 50c) he was basically ready to propose!! We went back to watch a bit of a community soccer game, where he promtly introduced me to his brother. I'm serious, if Dad offered him a dowry, I'd be a married woman right now! Haha! When it was time to leave, he asked if he could get my number, and promised he'd call me from his moms phone. It was SO funny! He was so cute, I had to let him down gently!




-Delaney xo

Just an ordinary miracle day....

Out of great suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.
E. H. Chapman

I'm in a really happy mood today. I've been thinking about dong a post like this for a while...I'd wanted to hold off until later in the trip, but I'm feeling so full of good feelings today, I want to get it on paper while I feel so happy...

Basically I came on this trip pretty broken. I am someone who lives to the extremes: when I'm happy, I am truly the happiest girl in the entire planet. Unfortunatly, the opposite is also true: when I am down, I feel like the saddest girl in the world.

Without getting into too many details, I had a really sad month before I came. I had basically been dumped by a guy who I still consider one of the most amazing people I've ever known. I fell pretty hard and pretty fast, and when he decided it wasn't going to work, it both shocked and really hurt me. I spent the month of April in tears for more time than I'd like to admit.

When the opportunity for this trip came up, I basically saw it as an chance to get as far away from my pain as I could. It was a way for me to run away, and hope that the distance would be enough to make it better. My biggest fear was that I would arrive here and my sadness would follow me. I didn't think I'd be able to be so far away from the amazing support network I have and be able to handle being down.

I mentioned in an early post how being here has managed to both heal and break my heart, and I can't stop thinking about how true it is. Being away from home has given me the distance to see that maybe things just weren't meant to be in that relationships, and now I can see that that is ok. I get now that if I want to be with the wrong person so badly, it'll be so amazing when the right one finally comes along. An experience like this shows you just how many great people there out there, people you can really connect with so quickly and deeply. The world is such a huge place, and everywhere you go and everyone you meet will touch you in a different way. I just want to see more and more of the world, I feel like I have so much more to see and do, and I can hardly stand how lucky I feel because of it.

Being here and seeing the poverty and desolation can break your heart if you let it, but you have to dig deeper than what you see on the surface. When you go to the orphanage, you can focus on the kids ripped clothes and lack of school supplies, or you can choose to focus on the smiles and hugs from the children that just radiate when you walk through the door. When you are walking through Kibera, you can focus on the raw sewage flowing down the roads, or you can choose to admire the men who are working so hard to provide for their families, or women who are happily watching their children play from their doorsteps.

I realize I've been pretty mushy and sentimental lately, but I really just want to remember this feeling forever. I want to remember how it feels to be so happy on a day-to-day basis, and not revert back to old ways back home. I don't want to worry about small things so much. Money, fancy clothes, those kinds of things just don't matter in the long run, and I am so scared of coming home and falling back into that sort of lifestyle.

This carefree happiness, this compassion for others, I just don't want to forget how it feels. Nat and Heather pointed out to me that I was just happily humming to myself the other day as I was puttering around the house. I hadn't even noticed. I want to be that kind of person all the time, one who radiates happiness. Unkind words, gossip, crankiness: those are habits that I hope never to revert to again. I have my health, amazing friends, the best family in the entire world. What more could I ever need?

"I'm going on a safari and I'm bringing a ..."

"People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child -- our own two eyes. All is a miracle." -thich nhat hahn

This week we went on our safari; what a neat experience!! Going on a safari is one of those things you always hope you can do one day, but you never think you’ll be lucky enough to go so soon! There were 9 of us all together: Nat, Graham, Heather, Brock, Amanda, Charis, Corinne, Linsday and Amanda. Brock grew up living in Canada and Zambia, his parents work for an NGO. Most recently, he graduated from TWU, and he’ll be getting his Masters here in Africa. He works for Village of Hope, where Graham was originally placed in Kisumu. Charis is Cherie’s daughter, and Linsday is her friend from home. Amanda has been around for days (she came with us on the Kibera clean-up Saturday) and she’s from Vancouver. She has been at school in South America this year, along with Corrine, who happens to be from SFU. So that was our group.

We left Nairobi early Monday morning. The trip started out like any road trip: plenty of snacks, laughs, and fun car games (“I’m going to the Masai Mara and I’m bringing an...”). Peter, our driver, stopped for us at the Rift Valley lookout, where we could see for miles over the valley. Heather put her bartering skills to good use at the roadside souvenir stand. The man wanted 2000 shillings for the 3 greeting cards I wanted...

Heather: I’ll give you 50 shillings.
Store Owner: No, no, 2000 for all three.
Heather: Well, no. I mean, they’re just paper....(walks away)
Store owner: Okay okay...200 shilling for all three
Delaney: Sold!

Then we were on the road again, racing down pothole-covered dirt roads towards the Masai Mara game reserve. A few MintChoc stops later, we were cruising through the park gates. Peter had to get out of the car to pay for our entrance fees, and the van was swarmed by 6 Masai women in their red tribal outfits with beaded jewellery all over their bodies. They kept tapping on the windows trying to sell all sorts of beaded things, and wouldn’t leave the van until Peter came back and drove away. Another hour or so and we were at the resort.

It was AMAZING. We pulled up and were offered lemongrass scented cool towels to freshen ourselves with the second we were off the bus. A walk across a wooden bridge and we were in the wide open lobby being offered fresh passion fruit juice. A huge signed picture and letter from Richard Branson was hanging on the wall, apparently we stayed at the same resort as he stays in when he’s in the mood for a safari.
Once we checked in, we headed for our “rooms”, which were big canvas tents. They had three beds, hard wood floors, and a full bathroom with the best, hottest showers. As an energy saving practice, the hotel turns off power between 4-6pm and 12-4am, which is neat. Even more awesome is that every evening they come and put a super long-lasting hot water bottle in your bed, so no matter when you go to sleep, your bed is roasty-toasty to climb into.

Once we got settled into the hotel, we went for our first safari expedition. As it turns out, old Peter isn’t a safari guide, he’s just a driver, so while we saw a bunch of awesome things, we didn’t really learn anything. Charis and Brock were able to tell us a lot more than Peter could. The first day, we saw lions, zebras, and warthogs, which are the cutest animals in the world; their tails stand straight up and they waddle so funnily.

Then we headed back to the hotel for food. The hotel food was AMAZING. They had full buffets for each meal, complete with Indian, African and Western food. You could charge any pop or booze to your room, which was wicked since it meant not worrying about carrying cash around. After dinner that night, we sat together outside talking and playing silly games like “Would you rather...”. We were all in bed asleep by midnight.

The next morning we were out the door by 6:30am, just in time to see the sun rising. It was so beautiful! We drove through herds with hundreds of wildebeests, which migrate this time of year. Then we saw about 5 lions eating one of the wildebeests, it was one of the grossest things I’ve ever seen. Nothing like a carcass at 7am to start off your day!! The smaller lions were all eating, but the older ones were just watching the wildebeests, we were sure they were going to go try to get another one, but we waited around for some time, and eventually decided to try our luck elsewhere.

The most horrifying thing we saw were a pack of vultures picking at a dead diseased wildebeest. Vultures only go in through the orifices, so you can imagine how repulsive that was to watch. Most of our group thought it was like a car accident, you don’t want to look but you can’t stop. While I had no problem looking at the lions just chowing down on their wildebeest, the vultures were too gross for words. I actually couldn’t bear watching.

We headed back to the hotel for breakfast, and then decided to head right back out in hopes of seeing some more really awesome animals. We ended up at this little stream where Peter let us get out to stretch our legs. The river was filled with hippos! All you could see were the tops of their heads and their nostrils sticking out of the water, but when they lifted out of the water at all, you could see that they were HUGE! We ran into another van of people, and their driver told Peter where to find an entire herd of elephants! We raced over and it was AMAZING... probably over 10 elephants all around us! Apparently elephants give off three signs when they are angry and could attack (flat ears, shaking their head, and stomping the ground) and when we got really close the big elephant did all three at once, so we had to do an emergency reverse, but then we just kept our distance and spent several minutes just watching and taking TONS of pictures. Next we went driving off in search of giraffes. We finally found two together, one standing in a little stream, the other eating leaves off a tree. They were so tall!!!

It was so neat driving around. In some spots there was tons of hills and lush green bushes and trees. In other areas the land was flat as far as the eye could see, and the grass was so long and tall. In the places like that, it was hard not to feel a little vulnerable. You were out in the middle of nowhere without anyone else in sight, it was such an overpowering feeling. At one point Peter stopped the van in the middle of a road, and for some reason, we all fell totally silent and the only sound in the world seemed to be the wind rushing through the grass all around us. It was a pretty unreal moment.

The last evening we spent a bit of time in the pool immediately following the safari, and then hid out in our tents during a HUGE storm, which was complete with crashing thunder and lightning. Once it cleared up, we headed over for our last dinner, which was followed by a Masai warrior dance, which was so fun! They have this creepy cool way of chanting, and they are famous for jumping. They can easily just hop over a foot and a half in the air. Naturally, once the show was over we challenged each other to a jumping contest, and it is WAY harder than it looks. We could barely clear 6 inches. After the jumping contest, we sat around the fire and Brock told us super scary African ghost stories that got us all totally spooked before bed.

The next morning we had to be on the road extremely early again, and the drive home took almost 6 hours. We were all so hot and tired and cranky by the time we got home. We had a really laid back night and celebrated Canada Day by making cupcakes. I decorated mine with red icing maple leafs, and brought them to work the next day, which was a total hit. Overall, the safari was an amazing experience. To see such wild animals just free in their natural habitat was an adventure that I will certainly never forget.