Baking, Bars, and Babies

Seeing as I've burdened you all with seemingly never-ending posts, I have decided to express the past two weeks of my life through pictures.

Background: The majority of my time was spent in class in Nairobi, so most (just kidding, all) of my pictures are from our two weekends at the compound.

After more than two months without a single chocolate chip cookie, I decided it was time to take matters into my own hands. Nairobi is like a barren desert when it comes to cookies. Want mandazi? You got it. Craving vanilla ice cream that has the faint aftertaste of bubble gum? No problem. But to ask for chocolate chip cookies? Good luck. THEY ARE NOWHERE TO BE FOUND! I have yet to discover a single store that even sells chocolate chips. So last Sunday I finally got my act together and decided to bake them myself...from scratch...for the entire group.  Luckily Isaiah had all of the ingredients I needed, including a 5 pound brick of dark chocolate which he so kindly helped me cut up into bite-sized chunks.

I felt like I was baking for the US Army. The recipe that I found online (courtesy of the Food Network, of course) had to be tripled in order to feed the 22 of us who had been deprived of this childhood favorite for so long.  In addition, I got to use this industrial size whisk that looked more like a medieval torture device than a cooking instrument.

Last weekend I also had the pleasure of meeting a fellow WashU alumni who studied abroad on the St. Lawrence Kenya Semester Program his junior year and is now working in Nairobi.  John and I have many mutual friends at school but surprisingly never met.  Fortunately we hit it off and he had some very valuable words of wisdom to share with me.  I wish him all the best and perhaps a few years down the road we can meet up again in Nairobi and grab a Tusker.

Note: The matching shirts were just a coincidence 

and I didn't even realize I was wearing a WashU

shirt until John walked in the door.

One highlight from this past week was going back to my urban host family's house for dinner. Ruth and I gave each other a huge hug and I got to play with the adorable little puppies (who aren't so little anymore). I talked politics with my dad as per usual, and my sister and I watched Skyfall together over a home cooked meal of chapate, beef stew, kitheri, and rice.  Well, it was more like I enjoyed the meal while my sister ate spoonfuls of icing as her dinner.

Yesterday Kiswahili was cancelled due to it being Good Friday. That in itself made for a great start to the weekend. Abby and I made the most of our free day by going to the Junction (a local shopping mall) for froyo and a movie.  We took one of the public buses to the mall and immediately headed to Planet Yogurt where I proceeded to pile toppings on toppings on toppings onto my hefty pile of creamy deliciousness. For those of you who are wondering, this is real, Pinkberry quality yogurt.  You ain't gonna find none of that bubble gum shit here. It was heavenly to say the least.

Then we saw The Impossible, a movie starring Naomi Watts and Ewan McGregor.  It tells the true story of a family on vacation in Thailand during the 2004 tsunami. I thought it would be a fun treat to go to the movies. 

I. WAS. WRONG.

This movie was sad. Really sad. Don't get me wrong, it was very well done. But it was sad! When the actors cried, I cried. When the actors smiled, I cried. I was a pathetic, blubbering mess in the middle of the theater.

Not to worry. My mood was lightened with a glass of wine at dinner, followed by velvety tiramisu shared between the two of us.  We came home to a house full of friends ready to spend a night on the town.  We ended up at our favorite local bar where we took over the dance floor, shared a few drinks, and had a genuinely good time letting loose.

Today was perhaps the best day of all. Wairimu took a group of us to the New Life Home Trust in Nairobi. It is an orphanage for abandoned babies 0-3 months old. They are taken in by the home and raised until they are old enough to be tested for HIV. Those babies who test negative for the disease are put up for adoption, while the others are treated with ARVs until they are healthy enough to be adopted. The center welcomes volunteers and encourages them to play with the babies and toddlers. That's right. We were welcomed with open arms and instructed to play with any and all babies in the center.  It was like being a kid in a candy store except that the children might have been even more excited to see us than we were to see them (if that's even possible).  It was utter bliss and certainly an afternoon to remember. I shall return very very soon.

Peace, Love, and JOSEPH!

Our day concluded with take-out Indian food delivered straight to the compound from our favorite restaurant. We sat in sweatpants, listening to the rainstorm outside, and dined on curry and naan. 

All of that food wasn't for us

(I'm a foodie but not a gluttonous ogre) 

 Homemade nacho crew

 The biggest piece of naan Julia has ever seen

While classes are always hard to wake up for in the morning, the fun weekends that I've had in Nairobi keep me motivated to push through to the end of the week.

Tomorrow afternoon we leave for Amboseli where we'll spend a week going on safari and living amongst the Maasai.  I hope to indulge you with even more interesting stories when I return. Thanks for reading up until this point.  I realize now that my initial idea for a photo blog might have gone astray. 

Until next time...

Kwaheri ya kuonana!

Tanz(insane)ia

Hamjambo! I’m back from my two weeks of Tanzanian adventures. That’s right Mom—I wasn’t forced into an arranged marriage with my rural homestay brother, never to be seen again (not to say that there wasn’t a little chemistry between Humphrey and me).  This component was by far my favorite thus far.  Here’s why:

We arrived at Dorobo Safari Tours headquarters the first day, which is just outside of Arusha.  Our two incredibly handsome tour guides, Mika and Joshua, greeted us.  I would classify Mika as the dreaded mountain man type who loves to rock climb and run barefoot through the woods (obviously his favorite book is Born to Run, which I might add, I totally predicted).  Joshua, on the other hand, was more of the funny, sensitive cutie—total charmer but sadly not Jewish and not from the North American continent.

Joshua (right) and Mika (left)

The day before we departed for our safari, we played soccer with a local secondary school.  Keep in mind I haven’t played soccer since way back in middle school.  That being said, when am I going to play a game of soccer in Tanzania ever again?  Everything was going great during the first half.  Our team was winning, there was a crowd of locals watching us, and I managed to hold down the fort on my side of the field.  Obviously I got cocky once I realized I wasn’t completely sucking and that’s when things went downhill.  The ball was headed my way and I made a grand photo-worthy gesture to kick the ball downfield.  Well, I missed the ball entirely and instead directly kicked the ground.  I may or may not have broken my nubb in the process.  I’ve never broken a toe before, so I don’t quite know how that would feel…more specifically half a toe.  Either way, there’s no official way to heal a broken toe other than to let it heal itself…so I suppose that’s what I did.

After a couple of days in Arusha, we left for Tarangire National Park to spend two days on safari. YAY TOURISM! Along the way we came across a number of wild animals.  Most notable were two lions resting under a tree.  At first we were just excited to see the kings of the jungle in person.  However, as time passed we realized that a herd of zebras was heading to a waterhole just beyond the tree.  I know what you’re thinking. Wow Emma, you saw two lions wait patiently under a tree as a herd of unsuspecting zebras went to drink some water, and then the lions proceeded to pounce on the lone zebra at the back of the pack and tear it to shreds, completely dismantling it and immediately becoming the coolest, most primitive thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life! Wrong! Unfortunately the lions were young, inexperienced hunters who came across as lazy when they made a poor attempt to attack the pack of zebras.  All of the zebras easily escaped and lived to see another day as the lions went back to their comfy spot under the shaded tree.

And now for a section I like to call “Animals of the Savannah: They’re Just Like Us”

They Lazily Roll Around

They Can’t Wait for Snack Time

They Love to Splash Around

They Go to the Bathroom

They’re Always Procreating

After two long days of safari, I’m pretty sure I can identify every single bird known to man thanks to the expert bird watchers leading our tour.  Simon, my Maasai bestie, could literally identify any bird on our game drive with a quick check into his binoculars.

What’s that? A Lilac-Breasted European Roller? Psh, yeah, I knew that.

Simon also sported a Washington Nationals shirt for a few days.  When I excitedly yelled “SIMON! YOU’RE A NATS FAN?!”, he looked at me with the most puzzled of expressions. “Simon, you like the Nationals?” “What?” “They’re from Washington, D.C.” “Huh?” “BASEBALL!” “Oh, yes!”

…he’s never seen a baseball game in his entire life. A student on one of their previous tours gave him the shirt as a gift.  Peter, another staff member and safari truck driver extraordinaire also rocked a Nats tee. He too had no idea what the logo on his shirt signified.

Simon (left) and Peter (right)

While most people were drooling over our tour guides, I grew very fond of the rest of the staff on our trip.  Not only did Simon and I become buds, but I had an entire crew of bros comprised of Peter, our esteemed driver, Loma, chef-of-the-year, and Gideon, assistant to chef-of-the-year. When I told them my name was Emma, they misinterpreted my name as Neema, which apparently means prosperity in Kiswahili.  It really wasn’t a problem. In fact, I was quite flattered.  What got me a bit TO’d was when our professor, Sinnary, thought it would be funny to pretend to misinterpret my name as Nyama! Nyama is Kiswahili for meat.  Not to worry, Sinnary gained his own nickname as well.

Introducing Jamba, the Sudanese diva. [Translation: Jamba=Fart] I’m so mature ;)

After leaving Tarangire, we headed to the Nou Forest to meet up with the Iraqw tribe, a community of pastoralists whose ancestors migrated to Tanzania from Ethiopia. We spent one day hiking to a waterfall and another visiting the Madunga Village where the Iraqw people live.  Their homes were made of sticks and held together by cow dung.  Each home was segmented off into separate rooms for humans and livestock.  Cows and goats needed to stay inside the home at night in order to avoid being eaten by wandering hyenas.  While we had an opportunity to interview the Iraqw about their culture, it was difficult because they speak their own unique language and very little Kiswahili.  Translating their answers to our questions was a bit of a quandary.

After leaving the Nou Forest, we headed to the Yaeda Valley to live amongst the Hadzabe, one of the last remaining hunter-gatherer communities in the entire world.  These people took “living off the land” to a whole new level.  Their homes are made from materials found around their camps, and they move their camps periodically in order to be near the best resources.  The women are in charge of digging for tubers (root vegetables) and gathering berries.  The men are responsible for hunting and harvesting honey.  Everything edible is prepared on the spot.  We went out digging for tubers one morning and started a fire right then and there to cook them up.  The entire village came along with us to reap the benefits of the harvest.  Everyone shares the food gathered by members of the community, no matter how young or old, big or small, male or female.  It was as close to an egalitarian society as I have ever witnessed or read about, and truly groundbreaking in my opinion.

Digging for tubers 

Chloe and Megan with a tuber 

Berries 

Chopping down beehives to gather honey 

Starting a fire to cook the tubers 

More fire-making

We had the chance to make arrows and go out hunting the following day.  My friends Abby, Julia, and I went out with Moshi (the best hunter in his tribe) to catch a giraffe.  Turns out killing (let alone finding) a giraffe is quite the challenge. We were lucky enough to catch a mongoose and hyrax. I had the honor of carrying the hyrax back to camp…after lugging it around for the duration of our 5-hour hunt.  While I did my best to hold it by its feet, as far away from my body as possible, at one point it swung a bit too close to my leg and smeared some of its postmortem blood across my thigh. It was not one of the most pleasurable moments of my life, but it was worth it once everyone saw me walking into camp with meat, thinking that I had killed it. JOKES! Moshi totally did all of the work.  Abby, Julia, and I chilled on a rock overlooking the incredible view while Moshi ran off and caught the bastard.  When he carried it back with two arrows stuck in it, we thought it was dead.  Then he placed it on the rock and it started running toward us.  Moshi proceeded to slam its head against the rock to kill it.  The entire process really induced my appetite, to say the least.

Moshi seeking out his prey 

Enjoying the view with Julia and Abby, waiting for Moshi to return with the goods 

Nothing like a good cig after a successful hunt

Other highlights included climbing a baobab tree (think rock climbing meets The Lion King) and dancing with the Hadzabe around a campfire.  The Hadzabe were compensated by our tour company in tobacco, salt, and marijuana.  That’s right, they were paid in weed…and they loved it.  They would smoke it all day if they could.  In fact, Mika had to ration it out to them each day because otherwise they would smoke the entire two-week supply in one sitting.  As Joshua put it, who wouldn’t love the Hadzabe?  They get high and hunt for the first part of the day, then spend the latter portion of the day getting high and socializing with each other.

Climbing the baobab tree

If it weren’t for all the bug bites continuously coating my body, I think I could be very content living with the Hadzabe for a while.  As a proud feminist, women have it good in their community.  They have just as much, if not more, power than their male counterparts because they produce 80% of the food that their entire village consumes. I loved the hunting. I loved the dancing. I loved their outlook on life.  They have everything they could ever need and don’t really care that the rest of the world lives a very different lifestyle from the one they do.

I absolutely loved Tanzania but it’s nice to be back in Nairobi sleeping in my own bed and taking a warm shower.  Heck, it’s just nice to bathe and not have to sleep in a tent.  I might do it for the Hadzabe though.

We’re in Nairobi taking classes for the next two weeks and then we’re off to Amboseli to hang out with the Maasai.  It’s incredible to think that I’m already halfway through this life changing experience. Maybe I’ll just never leave…

Tutaonana Baadaye!

P.S. Perhaps I skipped over a minor detail and forgot to mention the Kenyan Presidential election that occurred while we were away. Uhuru Kenyatta scored the win after some confusion over lost ballots and inaccurate counting.  Now Raila Odinga is appealing to the courts for a recount in order to salvage any chance he has of claiming the title. Hopefully he can maintain a peaceful approach and not rally his fans the way he did in the last election.  I’ll do my best to keep you posted. That being said, I feel very safe and Kenyans are hoping to maintain a peaceful atmosphere leading up to the presidential inauguration.