day sixty one

Two months ago I arrived in Kakamega. Whilst it certainly doesn't feel like I arrived just yesterday, it also doesn't feel like I've been here for ages, and there are definitely things that I experience for the first time each day. 

Like last week I experienced for the first time being blatantly overcharged because I am mzungu. Normally to take the matatu at night from Kakamega town to my home costs about 100Ksh (about $1.50 AUD) and takes about 40 minutes depending on the conditions of the weather, the roads, the driver, the conductor, the number of people the conductor has managed to squeeze into the matatu, any luggage/parcels/giant bags of stuff strapped to the roof and any random police stops. 

However last Thursday night not only did my matatu take almost three hours to get me home by taking a huge detour to avoid a crash on the main road, the conductor also tried to charge me 150Ksh for no clear reason. This is how the transaction roughly how it played out (condensed version, there was a lot of repetition of lines 3 and 4):

Me: *handing over 100Ksh note* Going to Iguhu

Conductor: For Iguhu it's 150 bob (bob is slang for shillings)

Me: No, it's 100 bob

Conductor: No madam, for you it is 150 bob

Me: Um, no, I've been catching this matatu every day for three months now and I pay 100 bob and today is no different, I am paying you 100 bob, I don't pay mzungu prices.

Conductor: *yelling something at the driver in Swahili with the word mzungu thrown around*

Me: Jina langu situ mzungu (my name is not white person). I won't pay mzungu price -  only 100 bob!

Rest of matatu passengers: *laughing a lot*

Sure I told a small white lie in order to prove my point, but I got away with paying my 100 bob, so all is well in the world. Most of my matatu trips involve small white lies - I'm married, my husband is back in Australia, I am just visiting friends, my name is Mary/Jane/Agnes/whatever other name I come up with on the spot... my age changes and so does my occupation. Taking the matatu is almost like reading one of those "choose your own adventure" novels. Why would I do that? Because there are some not so nice people in the world, and it's mostly those seedy smelly men who try to chat me up in the matatu, so by lying I'm only protecting myself. 

On Saturday I went to Nairobi to go to the ANZAC ceremony at the Nairobi War Cemetery. It was so good to hear Aussie accents and eat anzac bickies and lamingtons... mmmm. Just what the doctor ordered. I then headed to the shops to find me some hairspray... not one of the four supermarkets in Kakamega stocks hairspray and dry shampoo without hairspray doesn't last as long; I'm trying to reduce my water consumption so by washing my hair less often (i.e. dry shampoo) I use less water. 

The rest of the weekend was spent binge watching "Royal Pains" with Lynne and Roderick (my adopted cousins) and making fried chicken. Sure, nothing exciting or extraordinary, but it's these times of chilling with friends that make the rest of the time doable. 

If there was one piece of advice I could give to people living overseas, especially volunteering, it's that looking after your mental health is vitally important - a person who is run down, irritated, sad and stressed is no use to anyone. For me it's binge watching tv during my time off and taking photographs and writing in this blog, for you it might be reading or cooking or taking walks or whatever. Just keep check of your stress levels, anxiety and depression can creep up on anyone. 

This bloke is just chillin' roadside eating the rubbish tossed by passing people.
Taking trips and photographs so I can tell y'all about it keep me sane.

day fifty three

There are two things that make me feel like myself: coffee in the morning and baking cakes for other people.

The first thing has been rectified for some weeks now; at first I attempted to ignore my need for a morning coffee but once a coffee person, always a coffee person. At all other times during the day I will gladly take Kenyan tea (although without sugar - they put like five teaspoons in one cup!), but the first cup in the morning must be coffee.

The second thing has taken a while to find a solution for; my host family doesn't own an oven - we generally cook with fire or charcoals. But thanks to the wonders of Google and the smart mama's at work, I have discovered how to bake a kaki rural Kenyan style!

First things first - get yourself a giant sufuria (like a big saucepan without a handle) and a lid that is big enough to cover. Then fill the bottom of your sufuria with sand - if it is wet sand like mine was then you will need to put in on the fire long before you start making the batter. Think of it as preheating the oven.

Another challenge you will face is not having an electric beater, so get those arm muscles working and beat your sugar and butter into submission. For this cake I used this recipe however I tripled the vanilla and added cinnamon.

Right, once you've made the batter, put your cake pan with the batter in it into the sifuria, put the lid back on and stoke the fire. I added charcoals to the lid also, but I think next time I will make an actual fire on the lid.

It takes a lot longer to bake the cake this way, but boy oh boy did it taste good! Everyone at work was very happy that I had finally made a cake, with daily requests for it to be repeated.

And now we can all breathe a sigh of relief now that I can bake cakes again.

day fourty nine

This week involved not having any normal amounts of sleep. 

Sunday afternoon I got my hair done into braids, as when in Kenya act like the Kenyans right? I was so happy with them, Mercy did such a great job. However I soon learnt they were ridiculously hard to sleep. What followed for the next three nights was that as soon as I had found a comfortable position it quickly became uncomfortable, leading to exasperation when I managed about three hours sleep Tuesday night. This lead to a realitively unproductive Wednesday where I sat at my desk reading a textbook whilst unplaiting my hair. That night I fell asleep about 8pm and slept all the way through. True story. 

Now onto nicer things... we have puppies! They are sooooooo cute! And they don't call me mzungu! Actually, they probably like me the best because I pat them. For some reason they like my pants... 

We also have baby chickens! However where they are living is also where the geese, aka Al-shabab, are residing and so I don't get to see them as often. I swear those geese hate me - this week one of them charged at me from across the yard and attempted to bite me. I dream of chopping off their heads and roasting them... mwah ha ha ha ha. 

There is now another mzungu working with FSD here which is making life a lot more pleasant - I can actually speak normal speed and she understands me majority of the time - it's the Aussie accent that throws her, I haven't managed to lose it yet!

Other than that it's been busy at work - I've managed to get approval for the introduction of three new methods in the laboratory for a two month trial; Auramine-phenol staining for Cryptosporidium spp in faecal samples, gram staining of presumptive positive urines and titration of positive Widal serum agglutination.This week has involved writing the standard operating procedures (or SOPs) for each of the methods which in turn has made me think of all the other SOPs which should be written. If you didn't get any of that, basically I'm finally living out my dream of being useful with my knowledge of infectious diseases and laboratory skills. 

day forty two

I thought I'd share with you my new love... Kenyan chapatis! I've estimated the measurements for you to cook a normal sized batch, as we tend to cook for the entire army at home.

Ingredients
2 cups plain flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon oil (we use vegetable oil I think)
water (make sure it's safe for drinking)
Solid vegetable cooking fat - I know that sound gross, but it makes it taste amazeballs. You could use butter as a substitute I think.

Instructions
1. Mix the dry ingredients in a large bowl.
2. Add one tablespoon of oil and mix with your hands - it should become the consistency of sand.
3. Add enough water to make the dough elastic - if it's too wet add more flour
4. Roll out the dough into a rectangle shape to the thickness of approx. half a centimetre, and smear on the solid fat
5. Cut strips of about 5cm wide
6. Roll each strip into a swirl, like a snail, leaving the last section free
7. Take the last section and push it into the middle of the swirl (hopefully the pictures help explain)

8. Roll each snail into a flat circle, again about half a centimetre thick

9. In a dry frypan, cook each side lightly, then place onto a plate and cover whilst you cook the rest (We place them into a bowl with a tablecloth).

10. Once you've lightly cooked them all, add some frying agent (we use the solid vegetable cooking fat again, but you could use oil), and fry each one again. You kind of have to guess when their ready - obviously you don't want them to burn but you don't want to each raw dough either. Again cover them whilst you cook the rest - this covering process makes them super soft!

11. Do I need to instruct you what is next? EAT THEM!!! You can eat them on their own (which we do for lunch) or we eat them with nyama na soup which is kinda like a beef stew, or  ndengu which is like a stew made from green grams.

source

Thanks to Anita for having the patience to teach me, especially because I can't seem to make them even sizes... hahaha, and for letting me take pictures of the process. And no, I am not thanking myself, I seriously live with another Anita - and get this - we are both born Feb 1986 (I'm five days older) and we both have a younger sister named Lauren. BOOM!

day fourty

Have I mentioned that I have a fantastic Mum who has great foresight? Back in February my Mum bought me my Easter egg (a Humpty Dumpty egg of course!) which I dutifully packed in my bag thinking she was ridiculous but nevertheless I would take it with me. However I admit my ridiculousness was misplaced, and on Monday when I got back from Nairobi I was one very happy Aussie to have my Humpty Dumpty egg - a little piece of home *tear*

Why did I have to wait 'til Monday for my Humpty Dumpty egg? Because I went to Nairobi for the long weekend! For those who suck at geography, Nairobi is the capital city of Kenya. There is approximately 3.4 million people residing within Nairobi in a space of 696 km2 (269 sq mi), and after living in peri-urban Kakamega county for the past six weeks, boy did I feel crowded!

Despite feeling like a fish out of water, I had a great time staying with Mumma J's sister Aunty B and Bubba D and their three daughters. Staying with locals meant that I stayed in the suburbs, rode the matatus, and paid slightly less than mzungu price when shopping at the markets. But the best part was that I got to use their oven to make brownies... ahhhhhh I felt like myself yet again.

Of course we also did some touristy things....

We went to the Masaai market where I exhibited great restraint and only bought myself one necklace despite all of the amazingly gorgeous things there. 

We went to the top of the KICC building to get a birdseye view of Nairobi city.  

We went to the 1998 US Embassy Bombing Memorial.

We went to the AFEW Giraffe Centre and not only fed the Giraffes but also saw some interesting action *wink wink*

 And of course I went to find out what all the fuss was about at the Nairobi Java House.

Overall it was a great weekend - I loved hanging out with the girls and seeing the city. And on the way home I was treated with sightings of actual zebras, antelope and even some monkeys trying to cross the highway! seriously, actual wild animals not in the zoo!

Even though Kenya is small in size it is incredible in nature. And I swear the sky is bigger here. 

day thirty two

Just before I left for Kenya, I clearly remember my sister telling me I was an aggressive driver, to which I disagreed vehemently, and then proceeded to overtake everyone. Reminiscing on that makes me laugh, as now having experienced being a driver in Kenya all I can say is my driving style is nothing compared to the Kenyans! Far out brussel sprout!

On Sunday we went to the Khayega markets, which on a normal day is a bustling, vibrant, messy, but add in the fact that it was Sunday, walking around was akin to mud wrestling, and the huge black clouds meant rains were ever ominous, made shopping for nyanya and meat and maize all the more interesting. 

At one stage Mama J was buying maize in large quantities. Seeing that it was just myself and her, a man decided to take this opportunity to aggressively avail his services to carry the large sack back to the car. However Shida had come with us to the markets for this purpose, so the mans services were rendered useless. As Mama J was discussing the price with the vendor, this aggressive man came to me and what I thought I heard him say was "Hey mzungu, want some nigga, only 10 bob" with the distinct smell of alcohol on his breath and this look in his eye which made it very obvious what he wanted. Apparently what he asked was if I wanted some changaa, the local moonshine which is known to cause blindness and death. Either way, hell no did I want to accept whatever it was he was offering! It was at that point which I decided I wanted to be able to defend myself in Swahili, as my only comeback was enda - go away. I really wish I knew some more 'choice' words, as I would've liked to teach him a lesson.

However, I have embarked on teaching others a lesson - I am sick of people calling me mzungu, especially when they know my name, I can understand it when I'm walking through a marketplace like Khayega and the vendors are trying to get my attention, or little kids see me walking past and call out - that's cool, it's part of the culture. Sure, it wouldn't fly if back home in Australia I saw a person with dark skin walk past and I yelled out "Hi black person!", but then again I'm sure that if I called out "Hey person!" I'd be called on for political incorrectness, as they may not identify themselves as a 'person' or whatever.

Anyway, back to my story of being sick of others calling me mzungu when it isn't necessary... As a foreigner, it is always a shock to locals when I speak Swahili. Utilising this shock tactic, I have learnt to say "Jina langu ni si mzungu" translating to "My name is not white person". BOOM! Take that! Sure I'm probably being petty and possibly even rude, but it makes me feel better, so there. 

Other than that nothing much is going on. The power was off from Sunday afternoon until Tuesday evening, meaning that once my laptop was flat I didn't get much work done, but instead chatted with everyone at work, as everyone was in the same position - no electricity, no functionality of laptops, microscopes, refrigerators etc...  even the patients have stayed away. But it also is maize planting time, so everyone is busy out in the fields. 

I love my workplace, everyone here is just lovely, and there's always someone to laugh with. And there is a resident cat! He is so skinny and sad looking, I want to pick him up and love him, but then he'd probably scratch me and give me rabies. Poor cat. Oh, the local word for cat is pusi. The other day one of the guys said "I want to find someone who can eat my pusi"... to which I burst out laughing because without translating the final word that sentence is awful. However it is innocent - it is because the cat is not eating the rats. So everyone was joking about feeding it to the Chinese who reside at the bottom of the hill - there is a huge group of Chinese workers here making tarmac roads and everything gets blamed on them. 

So that is what has been happening. Thursday night I'm off to Nairobi for the Easter long weekend, am hoping to get me some kahawa from Nairobi Java House, and see some giraffes at the safari park just outside of the city. Will tell you of all my adventures.