A Day with the Mobile Clinic

Wednesday I went with Paul and some folks from the local health clinic on their mobile clinic route. We went to IlsaMarba, which is in the bush outside of Bissil. The day started surprisingly smoothly (as in almost organized, something that is not so comon here) with everyone mostly on time. Upon arriving in Ilsa Marba there was no one waiting (the clinic sets up shop at a school) and we were disheartened to find out that the day before a british mobile clinic had passed through and the few people they had taken care of had probably passed the word on not to come this day since some clinic had come the day before. SO we walked around sort of sad, when all of a sudden a mob of women with children appeared from nowehere.
The mobile clinic is mostly for babies and sick children. The women will sometimes be seen by a the nurse if they are very sick, and the men hardly ever will come. If they do it is at the end so no one will see them. The public health officer or technician weighs the babies and probvides them with vaccinations. THe nurse does assessments for health problems and writes a list of medications if needed. Someone administered the medications from the a makeshift pharmacy in the back of the truck. Children cost 50 schillings to be seen and adults 100. The fees are there mostly to give more value to the service and if the indivdiual cannot afford them they are waved.
On this day I got to help Peter, the health technician from Isinya, weight the babies. They set up a scale hanging from a nail on the ceiling and place the baby in a sling. It is interesting to watch how the mothers react to letting go of their children so they can hang and be weighed. Some would just let go, laughing at the sight, while others had to be pulled away with gentle force. Every mother is expected to bring a yellow card that contains the child's records for weight and immunizations received. If they do not have a card they are given one and told not to lose it. Most cling to them very tightly and carefully wrap them in plastic. AFter weighing I got to squeeze the babies mouths into fish lips and squeeze drops of oral polio vaccine into them. Then came the shots with the needles so I went to the van to help Nameless (a volunteer from the health clinic, also known as Noah) dispense medication. Pills are counted and placed into small brown envelopes. AS most of the people cant read instructions are given orally. The women are expected to bring their own bottles and containers for any liquids that need to be dispensed (decongestant and pain killers for children mostly). Inevitably some forget or try to use inappropriate containers-one woman could not understand why we would not put medication in her kersone bottle-so we came up with som creative solutions to the problem. Meanwhile the nurse is diagnosing and assigning prescriptions. SHe does this with only a stethascope-no lab work, no ear/eye./nose looking into thing, no referernce guide, just experience to guide her. I was sort of fascinated sort of disturbed but the number of common ailments are fairly limited in their minds to malaria, pneumonia, worms, exploding ass, and eye problems-basically any illness that has a fever with no lung component is considered malaria.
After a few hours the masses disapated, Nameless packed up the drug supplies, and we were off on our way.

Matatu

Matatu (muh-tah-too): A form of public transportation found in Kenya. The matatu may take two forms: one a standard Nissan safari van without the poptop and additional seating installed; the second a hybrid of the van and a school bus. To alight from a matatu one must alert the money man, who will then cling a coin on the window or ceiling. The driver will then telepathically know the desired destination and pause to let the passenger out.

The matatu is the most common form of public transportation here. The city also has buses and there are a taxis as well, however they are more expensive and the buses are notoriously overcrowded and run limited routes. The larger matatus run intracity routes in Nairboi. Much like the vehicles of the merry pranksters, they are decorated in loud day glo, graffittied and covered in stickers, and usually are covered in flashing christmas lights. Each also has a name such as the Historian, Beckham Sucks, Crasher, etc. They dont actually stop to pick up passengers, though they occassionally slow down so someone running fast enough can hop on. The regular sized matatus run routes into and out of the city and around the country where there is a paved (or wel lpacked dirt) road. Some are white or grey-these will always have a yellow stripe around the vehilce explaining the main destinations on the route. Some are florescent day glo, and like their larger counterparts, adorned with a variety lights, stickers, and names. Some feature advertising for local companies; all have personal pieces of flair (such as rugs stapled to the ceiling, black lights inside, stickers of relgious or other phrases and people). Names on these tend to be a little more adventurous and include the snoop troupe (named dawg pound and shiznit), sports names (luis figo, nesta, and the lucky strike jensen button), religious references (the saviour, lord is king), and the truly smart ass. The matatus feature two characters: my favorite-the money man, and the driver. Prior to February of this year there was little regulation of the matatu industry. Almost every road accident would involve a speeding matatu, and government statistics were published showing that almost 2000 people die each year in a matatu. SOon after this statistic one of the most famous matatus appeared on one of the most dangerous routes in the country. Beyond 2000 apparently took its mission quite seriously and probably caused a fair number of accidents. So regulation was put into place which requires all matatus to have insurance, registration, and a speed governor (80 km is the limit however there are a myriad of ways around this). To deal with overcrowding (they would just pack as many people as could possible fit inside or hanging onto the vehicle-sometimes up to 25 in a 15 passenger van) there must be a seat belt for every passenger (they comply witht his going into Nairobi where there are checkpoints, but it is ignored on shorter routes). Every matatu driver and money man also had to have a criminal background check to help cut down on crime (they were great places to get drugged, mugged, or otherwise violated), and they must wear uniforms to identify themselves. Driver's have black pants and a black vest, money men maroon pants and a maroon vest, though they all personalize these with hats, coats, shirts, and attitude. Loud music was also banned, though as soon as they are outside the city checkpoints the already blown spearkers generally start rocking. Matatus must display their route, though the way this is handled appears to be up to the crew and is often done in rather creative ways. The implementation of the regulations caused a lot of problems as there were a lot of matatus that had to register and only one place to do it. For weeks there were long lines for the registration and as a result many people were stranded or had to wait for hours for a matatu since there were so few on the road. Pehninah's son Lante stays in Nairobi with a family friend so he can go to school. Lante would walk 3 hours each way to and from school each day since he couldnt otherwise get there. The problem has since resolved itself and the drivers are back to chewing miraa (qat) all day so they can stay awake (and become a little twitchy in the process) and the money men are happily hustling passengers. Its grand.

The Only Joseph in Hell

Emerging from the canyon after about 4 hours we headed to our new friend's car. He had agreed to give us a ride back to Nairobi since otherwise we would have had to leave much earlier. It turned out his name was Nick, and we were all very pleased to meet each other. Just as we were leaving a face appeared in the window looking for a ride to town for food. Nick told him to hop in, and he introduced himself as Joseph from Hell (according to other park stuff he is also called useless masai and crazy masai)and he was so hapy to get a ride because he was very very hungry. We piled him with some nuts and chocolate (he called the chocolate "chick food" but happily ate it) and in turn he gave us some stories. Most of them featured him as the hero/protagonist, and most were probably exaggerated just a wee bit but his job at the park was to assist university botany researchers and he knew lots about the park. Joseph set the story straight on the lions: in fact 3 years ago a couple of lions had taken up residence and now there were about 6 or 7 living in the park. Eh? And they still let people walk through? Apparently the lions havent really bothered anyone, except for a woman with her baby at a campsite (you can also camp in the park) who had the good fortune to be close to their vehicle. The message basically was that until someone gets eaten, its no big deal. He also informed us that he wasnt all that scared of the lions and that like most other kenyans, it was the buffalo he feared. Fair enough. Joseph also told us about the very disturbing recent increase in crime in and surrounding the park. Many years ago robbery had been a fairly common problem, with muggers hiding in the park and stealing money from tourists passing through. Though a nusance, they weren't armed or terribly dangerous, and all they wanted was money. In recent months however robbers have been coming down from the hills on the Tanzanian border with guns. Joseph had been standing at the exit gate when someone approached and demanded to be let out. You need your ticket to exit and he did not have one, so Joseph told him no. Apparently, he then pulled a shotgun and said to let him out or he would shoot Joseph. So he was let out and Joseph took off to find some friends. He collected a coupl dof other park workers that have rifles (possibly for situations like this, but probably more so in case the animals get out of control) and since they guy hadnt gotten too far the surrounded him, took his gun and recovered some things that had been stolen from tourists in the parkthat had been held at gunpoint in a camp site. Joseph then claims that he and some others went out into the hills to find the cohorts of the one they had captured. Nick listened intently to this story and was very concerned. The areas around Naivasha arent the best and apparently they are getting worse, especially as guns begin to spread out of Nairobi. We let Joseph off at his desired food joint with a promise that if we ever come back we would ask for the only Joseph in hell.

Hell's Gate

This weekend Aubree and I took off for Lake Naivasha (one guidebook called it the "St Tropez" of Africa-now I have never been to St Tropez but i reckon that statement may have been a bit of an exaggeration as elton john was nowhere to be seen). Lake Naivasha has many hippos living in it, one of which recently decided to have an australian camper for breakfast. We did not camp. Spent the night in an ok establishment and woke early to go for a hike in Hell's Gate. Our plans for the day had been changing all night since we were supposed to stay through monday but had been informed that we had to be back by early mondya morning to go to a masaii age ceremony (more on that later). So off we went getting dropped at the road to the gate and beginning our hike. Hell's Gate is breathtaking-you are surrounded by red cliff walls and vast plains with leaping animals. It is the only game park that you can walk through, despite the presence of buffalo, who as we have discussed, like to pee on people and kill them. The other thing that supposedly makes it safe is the absence of lions, which also are known to attack people and eat them. At the entrance we asked for directions to the ranger post where we would turn off to the lower canyons. They provided directions with the provision that we absolutely not deviate from the specified trail onto any of th eother trails. So we walked in about 7k or so seeing lots of zebra and antelopes of a sorts. I spotted something in a tree which proved to be a half of a dead baby zebra. We debated just which animals like to take their snacks into trees and decided that it must be a cheetah since the books swore no leopards or lions. A bit up the road we saw a large zebra carcas lying in the brush. Aubree started to investigate whether the zebra had died of more natural causes or was made into a meal but I hesitated since large signs all over the park tell you-DO NOT LEAVE THE TRAIL; DO NOT GO INTO THE BUSH FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY, WE ARE NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR PERSON IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO YOU IN THR PARK. Basically, it seemed like a bad idea, but it was quite curious since the only thing that would kill an adult zebra and leave it in that fashion is a lion. Hmmmm.
Arriving at the ranger's station we got directions for a short hike into the canyon. We also saw a sign from 2002 saying that hikers and bikers were to stay off of certain trails since a pride of lions had been spotted. Hmmm again....Heading down we were clearly confused (the trail is not obvious at all here and we didnt have a map) and were corrected several times by a courteous british chap. After a couple more blunders for whatever the reason he decided to wait for us. This was quite fortuntae as he know the canyon well and was able to show us things we probably would not have otherwise seen. The hike was quite fun-a lot of scrambling requied at parts, some tromping through the water, leaping across the slowly disappearing river, and ducking through the brush. Hell's Gate houses the largest geothermal plant in the world. The plant is expected to be able to provide enough energy to supply all of kenya's needs someday. There are natural steam vents that turn up at parts in the canyon so we hiked out to the largest, had a snack and chatted. It turns out our new friend was a journalist/documentarist, with two sons both following in his footsteps. He traveled all over the world, and had recently returned from a stint in Iraq. Far more interesting to me, he had spent a great deal of time in Congo. When i think of africa i think of Congo-the insanity, the beauty, and the primal existance. He was happy to share some stories and tell us about it and a myriad of other things that we asked about. It was also nice to get the opinion of someone who lived outside of the kenya that we had been experienceing. I asked about the Masai and whether modernization had left them behind or was hurting them since they have clung so fervently to their culture. He felt that compared to other tribes in some ways the Masai are somewhat better off since they have cattle, a strong community infrastructure, and have been able to maintain their cultural identity so strongly. Many of the other tribes that eagerly embraced modernization have completely lost themselves and live in abject poverty in the urban slums. However, the Masai are also less likely to be educated as they are nomadic following the rains and green grass, meaning to get jobs in the "modern" world they cannot compete, and are under duress because of their practies of selling the young girls and mutilating them. We also asked about whether or not there are any lions in hell's gate, and told about the sign we had seen. Our friend bristled a bit since the presence of lions should mean the end of walking in the park, and though he maintained a calm demeanor I noticed he started carrying a stick for the rest of our hike.

Things I Would like to Sell in Kenya

I have decided that kenya is in desparate need of the Clapper. I know i know, sounds silly right? hear me out on this one....
Everynight I want to read before I go to bed. Sounds easy enugh right? well, the thing is that at nightime there are mosquitos and to best avoid being snack food for these malaria ridden vermin its best to be in bed with the mosquito net all tucked in. so when i am done reading i have to emerge from my netting, turn the light out, climb back in and redo the net. its time consuming and not adviseable for the clumsy. But if i had the clapper, all i would have to do is cla my hands and the light would turn off. genius, eh?

And Even More from the Matatu

the money man on the matatu today was a wee bit drunk. ok, actually he was really drunk but i guess thats why he's not the driver (although you can never be too sure on these things). i think he knew that he was drunk since he wasnt even trying any fancy money wrapping around the finger tricks or throwing body in the car heroics.

NTV

NTV is the primary tv station at least in this part of kenya. Throughout the day it features a range of religious sing a long programming, televangelism (people claiming to heal AIDS..grrrr), rejects from UPN, old seasons aof thje bachelor, and the worst soap opera ever-home and away. home and away is an aussie import with dialouge and acting so bad you cant help but feel sorry for the people on the show. its great fun to watch. also featured is the news hour shown at 7 in swahili and at 8 in english.
we got to see the tv news last night and the kenyans were running again. we were laughing since at our national trials runners compete in events such as the 50 m sprint and the 100 m relay. here they have the 900 m spritn and the 10,000 m relay. and they dont even break a sweat.

Masai Girls

I cannot speak as to any of the other tribes in Kenya, but the masai still practice female genital mutilation ("circumcision"). Though illegal the practice is very common in the bush, with the mutilation taking various degrees depending upon the family or local custom. Driving out of Entasopia we saw a very young girl (maybe 14 at the oldest) walking with beads hanging down her forehead. Pehninah and senaw informed me that she had been circumcised and was now looking for a husband. often the girls in the interior do not finish primary school and are sold after circumcision to a man, generally at least 30 years her elder. the men pay dowries here, and in some parts will still take many wives. the men are the only income earners for many families (when there is any income to be earned) and when they die they leave the young girls with nothing. remarriage is generally unacceptable. Pehninah runs a local women's group that helps young girls to stay in school and will pull girls from their families and send them to boarding school if they are in danger of mutilation and being sold. as a young girl she was about to be married off when a european nurse took her and sent her away to school , paying her school fees and seeing to it that she got an education. today she is a nurse and through her involvements now tries to do the same for young girls to see that they have opportunities and are not harmed.

From one hot place to another

We left the hottest place in the country adn headed to another place in the top 5-Entasopia. Unlike Magadi however, Entasopia is beautiful. Driving in was like entering an enchanted forest-all of a sudden everything became lush and green, full of life and fruit trees. Entasopia is very fortunate in that it has water almost year round from the surrounding hills. However very few people actually live there and those that are out just a bit suffer severely from the drought and are generally incredibly poor. We stayed in the only gues house in the area, and dined under gorgeous trees on food that was almost palatable and were served ripe watermelons and papaya for desert. At night i woke up to a wailing goat and some horrible cat noises and become convinced taht hyenas were eating the goat. I lay in bed until the sun came up, miserable since i had to pee, but paralysed in fear that if i was to leave my room the hyenas would eat me as well. Any chance of falling back asleep was completely spoiled by the bastard rooster who parked himself right below the window and in his aparent insomnia cock a doodledoo'd about every 8 mnutes for the rest of the night. I relayed my concerns in the morning to Paul adn Aubree who just broke into laughter. I was informed that the awful feline noises were the mating calls of some local tom cats, and that the owners were probably greatful taht i hadnt killed their rooster.
The hospital here was again quite nice due to private investment from AMREF and groups of soldiers from the british army offering hiv work assistance. There were almost no patients to come as the average patient has to travel 20 to 60 km to get to the hospital and they genearllyu dont come unless theyre in desparate need. I gave 200 schillings to a woman who had traveled a long way and had been left by her husband and had no shoes to walk home in.
Leaving we purchased a large sack of the best lemons i have ever eaten-they tasted like each slice is coated in sugar and are very juicy. We were also chased by sticky school children, their hands coated with fruits and rice and some other stuff, all eager to shake our hands. they let me take their picture before they started throwing things at the van.

Magadi is in fact quite hot...

I am pleased to report that Magadi is in fact rather hot. in fact, according to the book on kenya my mom gave me, its the hottest place in the country sometimes reaching temperatures of 40-42 degrees celcius, which is really really really hot. Unfortuntaely for us, on the day we were there locals were reporting an unseasonably not hot day (even considering that it is winter here) and that we woudl not be able to understand the true hotness of the place. and so it goes.
in addition to being hot magadi also smells. i would liken then smell to a mixture of rotten eggs and urine, though, it not being summer, the smell was at a minimum. The reason magadi smells is that it is build on soda flats. Magadi Soda is a british company and is the second largest producer of soad in the world. They own the entire town (even things technically owned by the government are run and paid for by the company). The town is fairly small and drab with blocks of company housing for employees and a "golf" course for visiting executives. The golf course has no grass, and no one in kenya actually plays golf so its a bit frivolous if not downright silly. There is also a swimming pool with generally unhelpful hours (1030 to 12 some days a week) and one evening a week. Unlike other places in the country residents of magadi appreciate cold beverages and you can get ice cold cokes and fantas everywhere. Due to the danger involved in mining soda workers here are among the best paid in the country. There appear to be very few families however and a lot of lonely men so finding a proper drunk is pretty easy at any hour of the day. We were fairly successful at the hospital considering the majority of patients come from 20 t 60 km away. There is no transportation infrastructure there and they have to walk in the heat and over the salt/soda flats with no water. i cant even begin to imagine but it must be excruciating. The hospital was among one of the nicest we have seen as it is funded almost entirely by the company. the staff even has a computer and it was really interesting to see the ways that they have thought to use it to make their work easier. magadi is also the cleanest place in possibly all of kenya. trashcans have not caught on as being generally useful, even in nairobi ( i have counted 3 so far), however due to the british presence there are trash cans and signs politely requesting you to dispose of your trash everywhere.
after a day of work we went and played in some hot springs a wee bit out of the town. it was quite fun and relaxing, though i dont buy senaw's claims that the water heals skin diseases (i still have some spots).

Kickin it at the DoD

Yea, you guessed right...DoD really does stand for Department of Defence. And thanks to that kenyan socialness we happened upon a connection there, which meant we could go....SHOPPING! shopping at the DoD you say? what the hell were you buying there? now dont get too excited, unlike in Congo, Kenya is a relatively arms free society (though unfortuntaely this is becomming more of an issue as Somalian refugees find their way across the borders and are in need of money) and as such that missile laucnher i've always dreamed of still isnt mine. However, you can buy such things as alcohol, bananas, electronics and appliances. Pehninah wanted a refrigerator which can be bought for a very good price there(hers is one of the only families that has one and it has been broken for quite some time now) and she had offered loan it to us for providing the transportation for it with our vehicle and 30$. Good deal. The only thing is we werent allowed inside the compound...boohiss. So we had to place our orders with Eddie and his solomn looking soldier friend and hope for the best. The best turned out to be an almost full size refridgerator, some milk, a coat for Pehninah's husband, two bottles of port (apparently this is the kenyan preferance to wine--ugh), a bottle of lemon cream liquor, and some cheap ass brandy. What we had asked for was two bottles of wine, and a couple cases of beer. Hmmmmm. But it was still pretty neat to buy stuff from the military.

The Counselor

Moses Oupoi (generally referred to as just Odu), eldest son of Pehninah, is fondly nicknamed the Counselor. Counselor is another term for politician, and though not a formal member of the cabinet, Odu would make an excellent one. They call Odu the Counselor because he knows EVERYONE. And not just everyone in Isinya where he lives, I suspect he may know everyone in the whole country. Anywhere you go its going to take two to five times as long to walk down the street because Odu has to shake everyone's hand and greet them (unlike me he doesnt shy from the molting lepers). In kenya social relationships are considered the foundation of society, which basically means it doesnt matter if you never show up for work because you were shaking everyone's hand along the way. For the impatient, or even if youre just in a hurry, this makes life rather trying at times since it feels like nothing will ever get done (and quite often this is the case) however it also builds an incredibly strong sense of community and base of support. I suspect a perfect world has a mixture of western dillgence and kenyan courtesy.

Pressing F1

On the computer I am typing on it says, "Please, under no circumstances will you press F1"
Under no circumstances? I dont care what that button does, if someone is holding a gun to my head or a ragin buffalo is about to chase me up a tree to pee on me I'm gonna push it.

I am the Great Cornholio!

Do you have any TP?
Have you ever wondered what people do in the absence of toilet paper? I think I've figured it out and let me say, I am never touching anyone's left hand again.

Dress Like a Kenyan

How you dress here is tantamount the amount of respect you are paying to whomever it is that you are associating with that day. No matter how rich or how poor, Kenyans always dress their best when out of the house. Suit jackets are quite popular with both men and women and worn almost everyday with all types of attire. Trousers and button down shirts are the provance of men, while most women wear long skirts, blouses, or t shirts depending on where they are heading (as such I have been wearing a skirt now for one month straight). Only young uncircumcised boys and fat toursists from Florida wear shorts. Tribal couture varies depending on location inthe country. In Masai land traditional dress for both men and women involves brightly colored cloths wrapped into dresses and shirts and red checked blankets around the shoulders for warmth. The ear lobes are gradually stretched into about 2 inch holes to accommodate vast quantites of homemade beaded earing and necks and wrists are adorned with the same. Shoes are varied though the more rural folk prefer shoes made from recycled tires (this is about the only recycling done in kenya). The shoes break your feet to fit them.

And Even More from the Matatu

Today the matatu had pink patent leather seats. Pretty groovy eh? Anyhow, this woman sitting next to me was eating corn. Grilled corn to be exact. Grilled corn is a popular snack as it is sold in the streets for a "very nice price". Well, this lady was talking a lot and felt the need to prove her point by waving her corn around. In her wild gesticulations she kept hitting my leg with her half chewed, kind of burned corn. I wanted to yell at her but i didnt know how to say "bitch stop touching me with your nasty ass corn" in swahili so i just gave her a mean look instead.

The Worst Way to Die

A little morbid, yes, maybe even a tad gruesome but admit it-it comes up in conversation occassionally with friends or family. People start ruminating over what they think the worst way to die would be. Some say drowning, others fear getting eaten by a shark. Still others are afraid of being buried alive or dehydrating in the desert or even things far more wild and creative. Well, folks, rest assured whatever your worst nightmare is, I have stumbled upon something even worse.
Sometimes outhouses here are built with wood. Now this is all good and fine but there a couple of problems with this. The first is that the wood here is soft and prone to water damage and rot. The second is termites. Combine these factors with the potential for shoddy craftsmanship, poor measurements and unstable ground and you have a possible deathtrap. The reality is that every so often, the ground shifts, the wood gets a little too wet, the termites a little too full and some poor fool happens to need to use the loo at that moment. They dig the pits nice and deep here so as to not have to relocate all that often. That poor bastard goes in expecting to come out relieved and the ground gives way and he drowns in the pit below, no one to hear him scream, no way to climb out, suffocated by the gas and uh.....
well you get the picture.

Magadi

Wednesday we are going to Magadi to work. I know nothing about Magadi, except that when you ask people about it their eyes kind of buldge and they laugh and say, "oh, magadi. magadi is very very hot. very hot. you will be very hot there." well then.

Research Update

We have gotten our target number of patients (150) interviewed and are going to put into those dandy folks at the Center for the Protection of Human Subjects to interview 100 more since we are scheduled for another week of interviews around the district we are working in. Good stuff.
Patients and hospital workers alike are fairly ammenable to our idea, however it is difficult to explain that we dont actually have any money (or authority) to implement at this stage and that this is just a preliminary investigation. It is also tough to explain to people that no, they cant have our laptop, and no we cant give everyone mobile phones. (the computers will be donated at the end of the trip however they unfortunately were claimed by people higher up the food chain for letting us in and making things a littl easier for us-hopefully they wil be put to good use and not sold for personal profit.)
There have been some serious issues with miscommunication-the district TB director didnt do his job of alerting some of the earlier places we were to visit very well (we would show up and people were pissed off and confused that we were there, though once we explained ourselves all was better) and so we will be going back to visit them in the coming week. In addition, even if the communication got to the right hospital staff things would get lost in translation between staff and patients (they were asked to come pikc up medicine on a specific day that we would be there). When we arrived in Namanga last wednesday we arrived to a mass, many somalian refugees. Apparently the patients had gotten talking and the story had grown into western doctors coming who could treat all sorts of ailments and make them better quickly. In a town with a hospital wth no electricty this was very exciting news and it was very difficult to get things set straight and turn away people when they saw we were giving the patients interviewed food. The refugees in particular were very sad-tmany tried to pretent to have TB, and some that were actually interviewed could not speak a word of any of the local dialects and could not do the inerview We were probably bamboozled out of a lot of food, but no one really cared since it was going to people who really really needed it.
Per our research advisors, we have to hire a professional to shoot some video of us at work. None of us is thrilled about this since we're going to have to get permission from each and every patient the camera even goes near to protec their rights under CPHS and many of the patients do not want their pictures taken. Its a pain in the ass to set up since there arent exactly a lot of professional videographers runnig around here. Eddie mknows someone but he's not proving to be too reliable so far.

Carnivore

Last night we treated ourselves to Carnivore, claimed to be one of the 50 best restauarents in the world, but only by people from the UK who we have already established dont know a damn thing about food. The three of us sat down for an all you can eat meat orgy and feasted on standards such as beef, turkey, chicken, lamb and sausages as well as the more tasty exotic and endangered animals including crocodile, ostrich, and camel. We were disappointed tht zebra was not a feature that night. The ostrich was by far the best and it was served both as an ostrich steak and as meat balls (these were a relief to see as paul requested the "ostrich balls" and the meat man left our table snickering with a wicked glint in his eyes). It was quite delightful. DInner was followed by a night of dancing at the adjoining club with some of our friends. Before 9 it turned out that you could purchase two beers for the price of one. SO they had ordered a crate of beer and gotten one for free. Twas a glorious night, followed by a really cranky early morning back to work.

Youve Got to Run like the Token White Guy Out of Control

Kenyans are the world's best runners. Like german car engines they are spwaned with the ability to run at exceptionally high speeds for exceptionally long distances. Its quite a sight to behold, and they usuallyu dont look too tired at the end of a race. While in Loitokitok we stayed with Pehninah's half/step/not quite but maybe a sister who's daughter had a good job and who was married to a wealthy nigerian business man and so they build her a grand house in which to live with her daughter's son (there are no schols where the daughter lives). And the mother had a tv. AT night we woudl watch the tv and during the news there is a fairly lengthy breakdown of the days sporting events. Last week was a huge week for sports with a world cup qualifying soccer match, rugby tournament, and giant trackmeet for the country's running elite. We were wacthing the racers cross the finish line after oe particularly long and gruesome race where a record was set. Trailing in minutes after the other finishers was the token white guy in the race looking like he was about to die. Everyone in the room exploded with laughter and we just shook our heads.

Buffalo Pee in the Tree

Amboseli had many many African buffalo. These creatures are not only big ugly and apparently not particularly good eating, but they are also incredibly mean. They are not carivorous but enjoy killing just for the fun of it. So most of our research team is terrified of them. On our drive out of Amboseli we were heading on a walk up observation hill, a hill with a ramshakle lookout tower of the plains and my kilimanjaro. Beautiful. Aurbree and I were heading up after everyone else and all of sudden we realized that our whole team was running down the hill arms flailing for the safety of the van. We stood ther confused and trying not to laugh. Maybe a lion was coming over the other side? Charlie our driver was a little more rational and explained that from atop the hill they could see some buffalo at ground level. One of the buffalo had looked up and snorted and that sent everyone running like hell. (Of course the buffalo has then gone back to eating grass in a most disinterested fashion). Paul got some video of the fleeing and its hilarious. It was later explained to us that the buffalo will chase you until you run up a tree (we're not clear what happens if there is no tree around). Once you are in the tree the buffalo will pee on its tail and flick the urine up at you until you are good and soggy. Apparently buffalo pee makes you itch so badly you fall out of the tree and the buffalo can then maul you to its hearts content. Seriously.

Amboseli Game Park

We passed through Amboseli Game Park on our way to and from Loitokitok (where there is a large TB hospital and manyatta). Pehninah has a niece that lives in the park and works with Cynthia Moss, who is to the elephants like Diane Fosse was to the gorillas. Her niece put us up in the van driver's quarters for the night (there are some huge, glamorous and ioncredibly expensive lodges there but they were not to be for us) and talked about her work there in the park. Basically they follow the elephants around all day (Amboseli is one of the best parks for elephants in Africa). studying their habits and patterns and they know all 1,300 someodd of their names. Pretty neat stuff. We were hoping to be able to go for a game drive with the niece or one of her coworkers however two of the elephants decided to have a battle and one got seriously injured prompting an elephant emergency. Both times we passed through the park however it was dusk and we got to see herds of the beautiful elephants, some hyeenas, buffalo, ostrich, and antelopes galore. I was sad because we hadnt actually seen any ostriches running around so Paul was gracious enough to hop out of the van and chase them with a stick. It was grand.

That is One Pissed Off Monkey

So the next time you want to make a monkey mad-you know, hopping screaming biting psychotically furious, here's a good way to go about it:
Eddie warned me not to take stuff near the monkey. We were having lunchon the way to Amboseli Game Park where we were to drive through, spend the night, before heading up to Loitokitok, adn the place has some animals in cages and chained to trees and whatnot. So there was Suzy the monkey and apparently she likes to steal things and break them. She was harnessed and chained to a tree and we were told she likes to shake hands. Over we went, myself,m Aubree and Peninah to take pictures of ourselves shaking hands with the monkey. Its a curious proces since first they insist on examing your hands for any lice, fleas or other delicious treats that they can pick off an eat (we passed the examination much to Suzy's dismay.) So here was Suzy surrounded by curiuous people and Pehninah was trying to get her to shake hands and the monkey just kept acting more and more twitchy and strange. I was trying to photograph the event since Pehninah is afraid of most animals and Suzy was final.y about to cooperate when she lunged for my camera and got it triumphantly. Bitch. She started turning it over and over in her hands, looking at us in a most mocking way when her handler grabbed her, held her in an airborn hog tie and managed to get the camera before it was smashed to pieces by a monkey toss. Suzy was not the least bit pleased that her prize had been taken away and provided a grand demonstratrion of waht it means to go "apeshit". She started screaming and howling and flailing herself about trying to bite the handler. She calmed herself after a while but decided that we were no friends of hers and would periodly snap and hiss at us until we left.

Money

Imagine a world without credit cards, almost no one takes them. Then imagine that the closest ATM is about 90 km away and there's only two banks that have them. Even in the cash based society of Italy(everything is negotiable and no one really wants to pay taxes on that money anyways) there is still access to funds. Here we have to plan a whole day to go take out money. We leave very early so that we can take out money once before midnight on the west coast and then we go back again after midnight so we can get out enough money to last us until the next time we can come (we're killing time right now until we can go back for round two). On the radio are ads trying to convince people that banks are stable and safe places to put their money but its a tough sell. The only places that take credit cards are the nairobi hilton and some larger safari companies, [possibly some places on the coast where wealthy europeans and indians come to play. Even then there is a 5 to 10 percent surcharge to use one.

I miss music

really and truly i do. though i brought my mp3 player i can pretty much only listen to it before bed and most nights i'm so tired i just fall alseep right away. on the bus/matatu or in our van its not a good idea to put the earphone in because its flaunting of western wealth and an invitation to get mugged. its also considered to be incredibly rude, and i try my best no matter where i am not to be an asshole tourist. lthough the radio is a part of almost every minute of life here the choices are limited to government radio, jesus radio, traditional not quite polka music radio,and shitty western music radio. By western music i mean the following-booty music (though fun, there's only so any times one can stand to "back that ass up"), pop songs converted to reggae jams, and "soul" . soul is a kenyan genre encompassing anything from church music to celine dion to john denver to r kelly. i was really hoping for an orchestra baobob jamming with treya nd dave tatuthews type experience while here but that doesnt seem like its going to be the case.so it goes.

Research Update

Things still going as they should be for the most part. We havent started video taping user interface evaluations yet, though its been enough of a challenge to steal a littl time from the hospital workers. I feel guilty when we do since there are generally long lines of people waiting for care. The patients are very greatful and happy when they are presented with a bag of food staples for their time at the end of the interviews. Its nice that no matter what comes of this at least we made life a little easier for someone if only for a short minute of time. We're also discovering that mobile phone coverage extends a lot farther than expected which is promising if we are to plead for a long term trial. Hospital workers are raelly excited by the idea of learning how to use a computer and using a computer for their jobs though they are afraid of anything that doesnt look exactly like the paper model they are used to. They all say that it would save time and eliminate paperwork adn that it woudl be great because they woudl never need to file papers again. While this is probably true to some degree i cant help but laugh since the beauty of not knowing anything about the computer is that you also dont know how much pain, agony and tears they can cause when they crash and lose all of your work.
The @#$@^$@#$^%# desktop still wont run things properly. I hate it. I really want to just sell it for parts but we're going to try and reinstall windows again instead.

Castle vs Yuengling

Can someone in Pennsylvania please ship a case of Yuenling lager (the world's finest beer from America's oldest brewery) to california for me? When i return home i have to do a blind taste comparison as Castle Lager,imported here from south africa tastes exactly the same.

More from the Matatu

I love riding in the matatu. Actually I just love riding in cars in general but the matatu is an extra fun experience for people watching and hitting your head on the ceiling as you fly over potholes that could swallow a small dinosaur. On our way into Nairobi this morning the money man had an extra special flair for wrapping the bills around his meaty fingers and a tendency to hang out the window from his waist nearly being decapitated on multiple occassions. He's great.
Women arent a frequent sight on the matatu. More and more are starting to use them, but they generally travel in pairs. There is a reason for this it turns out. There is a Masai belief that one woman cannot be alone with men, or they with her. In situations where this would occur the men will go and get the largest rock they can find and place it next to the woman so she will not be alone. Eh? Its unclear whether this is so she could protect herself (which is a moot point since the rock used will usually be so large she has no hope of lifting it) or possibly just because the rock can act as a woman in a pinch? We're not too sure and the explainations we've gotten for this are vague at best.
Spitting on the matatu is apparently an acceptable behavior. This morning two lads who were more than likely up to no good sat down next to me. They started snacking on some blackish mealy substance and then started spitting like they were dipping. I wanted to smack them since spitting is kind of rude, adn spitting dip at someone's feet is positvely abhorrent (this isnt the old west adn i dont think anyone is about to challenge anyone else to a duel) but i was informed that this is the norm and i best keep my mouth shut.

The Mom Can Stop Worrying Post

Well, i guess you can still worry since apparently there is a 17 foot python living in the grass near our house (he was kind enough to molt his skin in the field for all to see), but the good news is my spots have gone into remission. It must not be small pox after all. Or maybe the layer of dirt growing on my skin is just coverting them. I really do try to stay neat adn clean but as most who know me well can attest, its a bit of a challenge for me and the mud has turned into blowing dust which finds its way into our ears, eyes, noses, nailsa nd hair every chance it gets. my white shirts are slowly turning into a lovely shade of volcanic ash. i have a hot date with the shower and the washing machine when i get home thats for damn sure.

Paul is Mean

Paul is mean. No not really- as anyone who knows him will tesitfy, he's actually quite nice and genuinely concerned about making the world a better place. But he wont let me have a pet while I"m here. More specifically, he wont let me buy a donkey. He said its ok if a buy a goat, but goats are kind of gross and while they do have the redeeming values of eating trash (there's no sanitation service here so everyone burns their garbage and we dump our foodstuffs down the public loo) and being simple to slaughter (you never "kill" a goat here- you can only "slaughter" it) theyre really not that cool. A donkey on the other hand is soft and grey, quite like my hero of childhood, Eyore of Winnie the Pooh fame, and can carry heavy things for long distances. They also eat grass so you never have to mow your lawn, and the larger ones can be ridden if youre not particularly in a hurry to get anywhere. See fun? But Paul says no because he does not approve of their mehtod of communication. While I maintain that clearly one can get used to a top decible bray followed by an enthusiastic HEE HAW, he does not think this to be the case. So no donkey.

Sunset

Strange though it may sound, a sunset behind a wall of pollution is possibly more beautiful than a sunset seen through the clean air. This is proven by the fact that that landfill hell hole ubersuburb New Jersey has some of the pretties sunsets in the United States.

My Thats a Lovely Mountain, or, Grandma would be Proud

For the first time since I was about 6 years old I went to church on Sunday (i guess this doesnt count weddings and funerals). Mr grandmother would be proud. No, it certainly wasnt voluntary, but there I went, and somehow made it out in one piece.
We left saturday morning-ish (nothing here happens in an exact nor timely manner) with Ronnie, our friendly Irish missionary neighbor in his land roving all terrain vehicle. Its quite exciting to see these vehicles being used as they were meant to be, unlike in thte US. All but 15 minutes of our 4 hour journey were off road (technically it was on road, but the road was nothig more than a glorified cow path complete with giant boulders, deep sinkholes, and steep shoulders. it was like riding the bone jarring space mountain at disney world for eternity, but lsightly more fun). We were headed to the place where ronnie had been stationed a few years ago called Oltia Sika. The ride was fun as we spotted lots of animals along the way and he was more than happy to stop to let us photograph them. We were followewd by another vehicle full of visiting canadian missionary types who were coming to see what their donations were being used for.
OtiaSika is part of the Masai Rural Training Center. The Center there is used to train local herdsmen on how to better their cattle and goat breeds, provide vocational training, and community assistance. The programs that they are working on are really fantastic as the community is about 2,000 members but speard far and wide and very isolated from any towns or services, however it seems that they dont involve community leaders as much as they would like to since there is not a lot of motivation in the different homesteads.
Oltia Sika is beautiful. The Center there also features several small guesthouses which are used to bring donors to show where their money is going. This is where we stayed. In the middle is a grand gazebo facing Mt Kilimanjaro. My that is a lovely mountain. In the morning light we shuld see the glacier glistening on top.
Saturday we arrived and were fed a proper meal with a bit more flavor than usual.
Sunday we were hauled out a bed for breakfast and then it was off to church. I wasnt terribly thrilled about this however it ended up being a very interesting experience. As I've said, instead of mourning their faith, the Kenyans use religion to celebrate life and give hope, and as such the service was full of postive lecture and singing and dancing and drumming. At the start of the service the men and women all dance and drum together , each playing different roles in the dance. During the service only the women sing and drum, and the sexes are seated on opposite sides of the church. I was sitting towards the back. AS the church began to fill up a small army of little girls came in. Slowly they began to surround me as i smiled at them and made faces, realizing that this was probably the first time most of them had ever seen a white person. Eventually I looked like Princess Leia surrounded by curious ewoks. They rubbed furiously at my skin trying to see if the white came off, and pulled at my hair since it was different from theirs and they couldnt understand why it wouldnt stay in place when put that way.
The service was well over 2 hours and by the end the novelty of being molested had worn off and I was ready to run far away. We were then taken on a long game drive up a rather steep hill seeing lots of the different breeds of antelope and many giraffes. We got to thike up through a rain forest to the other side of the hills that overlook the plains and the mombassa road.
Another goat was slaughtered for our eating enjoyment and I do confess thath i'll have to try this on my own one of these days-afterall making a turducken is infinitely easier.
Today we woke up to the magic of the mountain once again and got a tour of the surrounding community. Everyone got car sick on the way home since one car was not returning so we had 9 piled in the land rover-no air conditioning and the windows had to be shut most of the way since the dust was flying so bad. Home now for a day to recover before heading to Loitokitoik, a larger village area located about 7,000 feet up mt kilimanjaro. very much looking forward to this.

Things that Bother Me, Part One

So i know this is kind of wrong, but its been bothering me so I feel the need to share. As i believe i've said before, shaking hands is a favorite activity here. You shake everyone's hand (well almost everyone, uncircumcised boys greet you with their heads and girls are supposed to as well if they are younger than you) even if you have no real business with them. A part of the problem is that Kenyans dont generally own hankercheifs, or kleenex, or anything of that sort, and much as they have no shame about cleaning their ears, they like to pick their noses. We work in hospitals a lot so people also sneeze and cough a fair bit onto their hands as well. Kenyans are fastidious about washing hands before meals, but its apparently not really a concern in between, and their hands are touching mine. Usually I wouldnt be quite so disturbed about the situation but after having seen TB patients lose parts of their lungs into their hands as a result of particularly violent coughs, I've been thinking about it. Also, if someone's hand looks diseased, like it might have leprosy or some other disorder that would cause the skin to rot and molt off, I really really dont like touching it.

God is 4 Real

Or so our mobile phone informs us each time we turn it on. There is a national fascination with christianity here courtesy of the legions of missionaries that flcok here (kenya has more than any other country apparently). Homes, retaurants, billboards, and even the speeding matatus are adorned with psalms and bible quotes. Simon, one of penninah's sons, purchased a present for her the other day. It was a simple white piece of fabric that had a praryer painted on to it. She has hung it proudly on her wall next to the others, also probably gifts from her children. The beautiful thing about all of this though is what is sought in the religion. People are not judged by it (judgements are made by other cultural factors many of which preexited the missionaries), instead it serves a simple purpose-to offer hope. Quite refreshing.

New Names

The Masai have two "first" names- a traditional one (and by traditional I mean possiblyt that of a family member, or about as often one made up of letters they have strung together into a word) and a christian one, such as Eddie, Frank, James, and Number One (some are allowed to select these and will occassionally chose words ior phrases that they associate with positive things).
Aubree and I have both been renamed. It began because Aubree is a name that is very hard to say for them because there is no "br" sound. She has been name Emugie (eh-moo-gee-eh) which loosely translates into beautiful color since she has very very red hair. I have been named nashipae, which means hapiness and joy since apparently I smile and laugh a lot, and also make the children laugh (though often that it not intentional).

Its not a tumor, or it IS the Masai Giraffe

We saw our very first giraffes yesterday. It was very very exciting. We were coming home from a morning of fairly frustrating work since our contact who is supposed to be alerting health clinics and such as to our presence and arrival dates has been shirking a bit despite being paid a little too handsomely.
But anyhow, we were crsuiing in our safari van when penninah or sennal cried out-giraffe!
Now they personally couldnt care less since they lives with these grand creatures everyday, but their enthusiams to show us is greatly appreciated. penninah made charlie stop the van so we could get out an take pictures. snacking nearby the giraffes was also a pack (herd? posse? gang?) of zebras. Our cameras couldnt get shots from where we were so off into the fields we went to get as close as possible without scaring them away. We took some pictures and ran around in the field quite happily before piling back into the van.
Not able to get close enough to see them well everyone was trying to describe the differneces between the masai giraffe and the reticulated giraffe. Then we were fortunate to see four more, right along the side of the road. We stopped again and Paul declred that the difference is thatt they look like they are covered with cancer.

Oh, so your're from the colonies?

About 10 years ago my family was in Italy for the duration of the summer. We were traveling in the south and taking a fairy to the isle of Capri when my mom and i struck up a conversation with two elderly british ladies. After a while they looked at us and said to my mother "my , you speak english very well". clearly the thought us to be italian. my mother laughed and said " well yes, after all we are from the united states". looking slightly confused one of the women responded "oh, so you're from the colonies?"
true story.
Being here one cant help but wonder what Kenya would be like had those cheeky brits never thought to come here and declare it for the queen (or king as the case may have been). Vestiges of colonialism remain ever present in daily life. Everyone drives on the left and the roads are structured with the idiotic trafic circles to be found in london a nd its surrounds. Absurd amounts of milk in tea, which is often served with the kenyan version of a tasteless scone like pastry, truky bland and uninspired food. Even those who can afford spices or things that create flavor seem to shun them though rumor has it that food on the coast is more indian inspired and slightly more palatable.
People are outstandingly polite as well- you shake everyone's hand, no matter whether or not you are concerned with them or they with you. THe first thing school children learn is to say "hi how are you?" They are trained to expect "fine thank you. how are you?" as a reponse and will ask you the question incessantly until provided with the appropriate response. Every adult, no matter how educated, is also proficient in this phrase however they have also learned to adapt to responses such as "good" or "great".
Even Masai from the deep interior have adopted these customs to some degree. I would like to know how it was before, and how it would be now were it not for colonialism.

The Make Mom Worry Post

So sunday, after returning from the fly zone, I realized that the right side of my tummy had several little spots on it. After discussing it with my colleagues we determined that in addition to be molested by flies I must been dinner for some fleas as well. Lucky me. The next day there were more spots, wrapping around the my back and starting to appear diagonally on my left calf. Weird. AUbree tells me that sometimes bites take a whilte to show up. Ok fine. However throughout the week, more and more spots have turned up. My legs and stomach are now covered. The spots are weird, a little too red for bug bites, not quite a rash. And thy appear in patterns-often straight lines and arcs. We have now ruled out fleas, ticks, spiders, chiggers, jiggers, and scabies. I have suspicions that I am the last living case of small pox but for some reason people seem to disagree. Seeking medical advice here is something I am trying to avoid after having attempted to obtain some this week. First they covered me with hydrocortizone, then came some benadryl, and now something called celestamine. Everyone keeps telling me to go back and see Jimmy, the albino kenyan doctor. They are convinced that because he is albino he knows everything there is to know about skin conditions. I disagree, and even if this is the case that doesnt mean he knows anything about anything else. I'm hoping maybe if I switch detergents they will go away, though I had no problemn the first time i washed my clothes so we shall see. In happier news however I have so far managed to avoid the ever terrible travelers diarhea, or as I prefer to refer to it, exploding ass.

Lord of the Flies

The culture shock set in this weekend in the form of a small child. There he was standing, flies crawling all over his face, in and out of his ears and mouth, up his green snot leaking nose, and strolling across his eyes.
We ventured out to Olturotto to see some friends of Paul. They live in a traditional Masai homstead and had invited us to come see their son sing in a church singing and verse reciting competition and then have dinner. We offroaded in the van with Charlie, our trusty rockstar driver singing along to various american pop hits turned reggae songs, managing each bump and hole and traffic malfeasance with an adeptness that makes him my hero.
We were very excited to see wildebeast and zebras and ostriches and the day was sunny and bright. After a while we arrived at the home and hopped out of the van to greet people. Immediately we were swarmed by flies. Swarmed I tell you. It was horrifying and though I tried to hide the look on my face people immediately started laughing and telling me i would get used to it in a bit. As I was trying to maintain my composure and be polite I saw him...the Lord of the Flies. I wanted to vomit and then spray him with a firehose, but instead I was hearded back into the van with our hosts and their children and the neighbors children. As I sat down, the swarm did not cease, instead becoming slightly more unbearable since we were now trapped in an enclosed space and seated many deep. Aubree turned around and was just laughing-she later said it was almost more than she could handle and she's travled and lived in some of the most desolate, desparate, impoverished places on the planet. so she figured I was probably about to die. Arriving at the competition was a sweet relief and sort of amusing as it was explained that the the loudest singers were chosen more frequently than those with any real skill. Many of the children sitting in front of us had never seen mzungu (white person) before and were very curious, touching our hands to see if rubbed off. Paul was applying sunscreen and wiped it on the arm of a young boy to his horror. Apparently Paul likes to tell children that sunscreen is what makes him white, which actually isnt a complete lie.
After the contest and a lot of sitting around baking in the sun we returned to the van, the homestead and the flies. By this time the children were very comfortable with us and were happy to rub their sticky snotty hands all over me as the fly seige continued. As the sun began going down the flies slowly tapered off, I learned how to milk a cow, and then and it was time to kill a goat. More on that another day, but the family thought it was funny that i had a stomach for slaughter and not for flies.
The family was kind enough to put us in the two real beds they had. In the morning we helped heard the cattle for their weekly spray (to prevent ticks) and we learned how to make chapati and helped fetch water as there is no running or any relatively clean water in this area. The family may eat meat once or twice a month, and generally subsists on rice, potatoes, and beans, along with kale cooked in fat. Bathing and washing clothes are very difficult due to the lack of water. When Charlie came back to pick us up I felt bad for feeling relieved to go (the flies were back with reinforcements and after watching them dive bomb everyone's chai and molest the chapati i had no appetite left). Its funny, because even if I was to live there, with that family or one of the many like it, for a year, or three or five I would never understand completely because at the end of the day I will always have a choice.

The Beer Lottery

There is no national lottery here in Kenya. Instead, you can win money by drinking beer. Every Tusker beer cap has a number and an amount printed on it. Every week the post office publishes the winning numbers and winners can redeem bottle caps from any point in time for amounts ranging from 100 schillings (about 1.33$) to 1 million schillings. Genius.

A Spot of Tea, A Bottle of Beer and How to Define "Moron"

Friday evening we enjoyed a "spot of tea" with Ronnie. He is our neighbor in Isinya and is a Protestant Irish missionary. He has lived in Kenya in various places for the last 14 years. His family is currently back in Ireland since one of his daughters is very ill, however they come to visit sometimes. Ronnie offered us real English breakfast tea (a very welcome break from the kenyan chai-a lot of milk and even more sugar with a splash of weak chai thrown in for good measure), buttered toast and meat flavored potato chips. I confesss I was secretly hoping for a "spot" of proper whiskey but perhaps on Tuesday when we have dinner with him and another irish missionary who will be returning from the UK. We discussed american ignorance (a very popular topic anywhere in the world except the US apparently), health care in africa, and cats. Ronnie invited us to come to the deep interior with himself and some other missionary type folks this coming weekend. We are very exctied.

Friday night we decided to have a night out at the moonlight hotel to drink some beers and shoot some pool. There are three beers here. Guiness, Pilsner, and Tusker. Tusker is an excellent lager (surpassed only by Pennsylvania's finest-Yuengling...mmmmm) served in large bottles. The slogan is "My Country, My Beer". We played some pool (Kenyans have some interesting rules and the table is missing some of the balls) and chatted with the locals. I learned some "proper" kenyan dancing from a lady whom i suspect is a practising employee of the world's oldest profession, adn towards the end of the night a melee broke out. One gent bitch-slapped another and off they went throwing fisticuffs and generally making a mess of the place until they were booted. A wise sage seated next to my dancing friend informed me that when drunk men are morons. He then asked me if i knew what a moron was and without waiting for a response stated:
"A moron is someone who will fight for a lie on a loan."