I made it!

Well, I made it to Kenya. What a place! I truely feel like I am on another planet. My first experience in this country was one I was kind of told to expect, so that nothing happens as you expect it to happen and there are large challenges with everything you do. On our way to the hotel, we were blocked by a marathon and had to take a ridiculous detour, had a flat tire and finally reached a roadblock we could not manover around and succumbed to the marathon, waiting over an hour.

My first week was spent couped up in a hotel-like-compound double gated with armed guards. We had training all week and by the end we were glad to get out. The entire week was overshadowed by my experience into town to buy a cell phone. We walked down the street to the bus stop and as such I expected we would be getting on a bus. A rickety, dented van pulled up blasting regae music, shooting black exhaust everywhere the door swung open and the sketchiest looking dude poped out and shouted something in kiswahili. There were about 8 other passengers inside and about 8 of us. I was absolutly stunned. Then our guide did the unthinkable she said "sure we'll get in". Every natural instinct in my western body told me to turn and run. But I followed my guide for my first African public transportation experience in a mutatoo. What a stressfull ride and to add to the situation, the roads are absolutly chaotic. Traffic lights exist but are completely disregarded....COMPLETELY! Pedestrians are not even a consideration, move or be hit.

When we finally arrived in town (....FINALLY!!) we atempted the streets of Nairobi. The advice I was given was "don't look like you don't know where you are going" and "put on your toughest looking face" if you want to survive. I must have looked like a little kid walking through a haunted house, what a sketchy city.

Anyway, I have finally moved into my new house. I have my own little house that was originally intended as the servents quarters for some family. The property is surrounded by 12' high stone walls covered in razor blade wire and it feels a bit like prison. But I guess thats a way of life here. The family seems very nice but they give me lots of space. I have lots of stories to tell but I will end this one here as I think it is long enough. Check in later for details of my first african wedding and the politics of fruit which is passionately dividing the country into bannanas and oarnges.

Cheers,
Mazunga Matt (the kenyan word for whitie)
(picture is of my house)