Paris day 5

Versailles!
Although the first four hours of the day were spent just getting there. One train, transfer, second train, get off, the connecting train is having work done so you have to take a different train (the one I was on to begin with) to a different station, take that train, walk 20 minutes and voila! I have arrived at Versailles. The grandeur of it all is almost overwhelming. To begin, there were gold gates at the entrance and gold detailing on the building. And that's just a bit of the outside. The interior is breath taking. So much detail and elegance! My favorite room was the queen's room. Gorgeous. Such extraordinary decoration. And the gardens are enormous. I'm talking it takes a solid 30 minutes to walk to Marie Antoinette's estate. But it's so worth it! But before I went there I stopped and had a bite to eat at the restaurant out in the gardens and by a bite to eat I mean a crepe because who can turn one of those down? By the time I got back to my room--seven hours later--my feet were in serious pain. That's how most of my days have ended but I like it. It means I've gotten to walk in Paris and see wonderful sites all day long. Now tomorrow I have to find a new suitcase and pack because my time here is coming to an end an it makes me very sad. Maybe I'll accidentally miss my flight tomorrow. Oh I would if I weren't also excited to get back to Colorado

Day 4 Paris--nothing exciting

Today was my easy day. I went and walked around and it was glorious. I found souvenirs for the people who were on my list, mailed off postcards, and had a glorious lunch. Nothing too special just a nice easy day in the rainy streets of Paris.

Day 3 Paris

If you walk far enough into the streets of Montmartre you find the best hair salons for the best prices. Of course they don't speak English at all so I had to dive into my reserve of French vocab to get them to understand what I wanted. Success. One hour later and three inches less I walked back out into the cold rain and found the best cafe. Hello pizza! Boy oh boy have I missed real food. Not to say the food in Africa was bad. It just all tasted the same. But the rain died down a bit and so I paid and headed out towards Le Louvre. I had planned on taking the train but hey, I'm young, I'm healthy, and insane so I decided to walk. The walk itself isn't so bad. But I had walked all day yesterday in uncomfortable shoes (the only ones not destroyed in Africa) and it's rainy and cold. I broke down and bought a coat because I was about to turn into a French Popsicle. Again. I spent some time walking up this street and down that one just to kill time and I found les Galeries Lafayette. Which is the official name for every high end shop imaginable all in one location. I'm talking Tiffany's, Chanel, Mui Mui, and a hundred others. Bags in one place, shoes downstairs, and makeup in the middle. It was packed. But also a lot of fun! After I had my fill if playing rich and famous I headed back out into the cold and continued on to Le Louvre. I got there two and a half hours too early so I sat on a bench and--as Ms. Tidd recommended--people watched. Oh the fun things I got to see and hear. Finally six o clock rolled around and I got to go inside. By this time if the day my dogs were barking. However I was too excited to be at Le Louvre to care. I think I'm more interested with the ceilings of these places than the actual pieces on the walls. I spent 90 percent of my time looking up. Twice I ran into someone and I only tripped once. The coolest part was when I was in the rooms of Napoleon. From one of the grand windows you can see the Eiffel Tower and because it was dark and it was the top of the hour, I got to see the light show. It's a lot mor impressive from farther away. It looks like a Gina's sparkling diamond...an odd shaped diamond. Sadly it was time to head back and although I was brave and walked to Le Louvre I was not about to walk back. Instead I walked down to Notre Dame (cars splashing people in the sidewalks doesn't just happen in movies) and grabbed a train from there. This time when I got out of Le Gare du Nord I actually took the right street! And the entire way back I didn't use my map once. I am now the master of the metro! Or at least to and from downtown. An after an adventurous day, I'm dreading the few steps to my bed. My dogs aren't barking any more; they are yelping.

So day 2 Paris

Luckily one of my roommates said she wanted to see the Eiffel Tower so I jumped up and said I was going (at that time) tomorrow if she wanted to join. (Yay for not having to wonder through the metro alone!
We started off by walking to Le Gare du Nord and after walking around trying to find the correct train we finally got to Charles de Gaule Etoile (another station) and we exited onto the street and BAM! there was l'Arc de Triomphe right there. Glory day! But everything was roped off and there was absolutely nobody on the street. Turns out the president was planning on making his way down Champs Elysées. My lucky day. So we continued to walk down the street and ogle at the shops until we mad a turn off the main road and found a very quaint street with adorable shops to enjoy (of course they were definitely still out of my price range). After wandering around hoping to get lost in the little connecting streets, we happened to come back across the Place de la Concorde. So, crossing the extremely busy street, we turned left and decide to check out Le Louvre. Don't you just hate when you chance to come across famous cultural sites unexpectedly? After checking that out for a while (no we didn't go inside; that's my plan for tomorrow) we strolled across the river and on a whim decided to go visit Notre Dame. That is sooo much bigger than it appears. And being me I couldn't help but take off my ankle bracelet so I could ring the bells at Notre Dame. And you better believe I sang the song too. Ok the next for adventure we decided to finally go find Le Tour Eiffel. La da da walking walking walking. Oh hello Hôtel des Invalides. No big deal. Oh an the Eiffel Tower in the background? It's only natural. At last we arrived at our original destination--the Eiffel Tower. Holy guacamole is that thing tall. A lot taller than I had imagined it would be. Well I wanted to go to the top but my roommate--being afraid of heights--opted out. Exiting the elevator at the very tippy top (or at least as high as you're allowed to go) even I was thinking holy cow I'm going to get blown off the edge. Yes technically it is impossible because they have you fenced in but...that's just my dramatic self. The view though. Breath taking. You can see forever without end. The only thing that comes close is the Empire State Building but a skyscrapers got in the way. The ride down in the elevator was a ride back down to reality. A cold reality. I couldn't find my roommate. She was nowhere in sight and after an hour of waiting at our meeting point I accepted that she had probably left. But I wasn't about to leave. The sun had set and it was starting to get darker with each passing moment--lights time! I stayed and watched the light show and took a million photos. Eventually I decided to walk back home because I was turning into a Popsicle. So, I grabbed a train to Notre Dame and from there the train back to Le Gare du Nord. Thankfully when I opened the door to my room my roommate was there sleeping. At least she made it back. What a memorable thanksgiving it was. Top of my list!

Paris hates me

Before we go any farther I would like to say, on record, the the website of the hostel says to exit Le Gare du Nord and take a left.
Ok on with the story.
So I get into Paris Charles de Gaulle airport and immediately I start following the signs for the RER B line which was only a short mile or five away. But when I finally made it there lugging two giant suitcases, I bought my ticket and grabbed the next train blue train.
So I get to Le Gare du Nord and I'm supposed to exit on Le Re de Dunkerque only there is no sign indicating which direction that street would be in so I just start walking in good faith that I'm going in the right direction. Sure enough I started seeing signs for it. However, the sign said I was required to now ascend two flights of stairs. Don't worry there was an elevator.
The elevator incidentally was broken--now start to worry. I had to drag two extremely heavy, extremely bulky, extremely large suitcases up two stories to then exit onto Le Rue de Dunkerque.
Problem number two: it was pouring, 35 degrees, and I had no coat.
Yes it is true that when packing for my two month adventure, I only packed for Africa and did not plan anything for Paris. I was out in the freezing rain in nothing more than a light 3/4 length sweater. But I now had motivation to find my hostel so I took a LEFT and headed off in search of Le Vintage.
Two minutes later the street ended. Now streets in Paris are not like streets here. They do not have nice neat intersections with bright green road signs to tell you the name of the street. No. Paris has lovely little plazas with six streets coming together in one spot and the street signs (if you're lucky to find one) are minuscule little things pasted on the side of a building. Needless to say I took the wrong street, doubled back, and repeated the process five more times.
Ten my brain really kicked in and I decided I just needed to follow the larger street for a bit because the name probably changed at the plaza.
Sometimes I really should just not listen to myself.
I walked a solid twenty minutes down said road and no Vintage Hostel was to be seen and by this point I was way past the point of being a little misted by the rain and was somewhere in the vicinity of looking like a drowned cat.
I knew I was way off track because the directions said it was a five minute walk tops from the station to the hostel. So I did the unthinkable--I turned on my cellular data so I could use my Maps. Don't EVER turn on your cellular data while you are oversees without a plan. Long story short I typed in the address took a screen shot and turned my data off. Those few moments ended up costing me $198.40. That's not really a fun conversation to have with your parents.
Any way back to my misery.
I now knew where I needed to go which was twenty five minutes in the opposite direction from where I was headed. So I turned around and I got one block before the unthinkable happened.
Yes, my suitcase broke.
The handle by which it is to be pulled snapped and as I grabbed the handle to pull it along, refusing to be defeated by Paris, the seam started to split.
I was not about to have all of my personal affects strewn along a gutter in Paris so I stopped under the awning of a fruit stand and asked the owner where I could find a taxi.
Parisians will not speak English to you. No way. You have to at least attempt French before they will consider you. So I musters up some sort of sentence about needing to go about half way I into the next district over.
The man was kind enough to attempt to hail a taxi but none were going in my direction or only ran in this district and didn't travel to others. He then told me where I could find a taxis stand that would get me where I needed to go. And I patiently reminded him that I couldn't make it there because my suitcase was broken.
Bless his heart, he put my suitcase on his fruit trolly and wheeled it over to the taxi stand while I pulled my other one and I finally got a taxi. Fifteen minutes and 13 euros later I arrived at my hostel which, was in fact, a five minute walk from the station if you take a RIGHT onto Le Rue de Dunkerqe.

That afternoon, after I took a hot shower and put on warm clothes, I walked to Sacré Coeur and the sun was bright and warm and I was starting to fall in love with Paris despite my adventures getting there.
It's easy now to look back on that morning and just burst into a fit of giggles because really...how does one person have so much bad luck?

As proof that I am not lying about the very misleading directions I will attach poof!

My last day at hope

Where do I even begin. Well I didn't even want to get out of bed because that would mean that I had to accept the fact that I had to go say goodbye to the children I have loved and who have become part of my life over the past two months. So after dragging my behind out from under the covers I headed to project where, after being gone for a few days, the children bombarded me with hugs and yelled "Brecklen! Brecklen!" (Yes they finally learned how to say my name properly). They were taking their final exams today so I stayed out in the play yard with the kids who had finished. Basically for my last day I got to play outside in the African sun on the red Kenyan dirt with the children who have changed my life. Towards the end I lined them all up and started to pass out the sweets I brought. But once the kids realized what I had the line was pointless. They all swarmed around me and I had to pass them out at random. When the time came for the kids to go home the ones I had really gotten attached to all jumped on me and gave me a million hugs and kisses an asked me not to go. My heart nearly broke. It wasn't until I got into the van to drive away and the children all lined up in the road to wave goodbye did I really lose it. For as long as I live I will not be able to forget those children or my experience here in Kenya. I'm very grateful for my time here because I was impacted more than words can say

Day 22

Well five matatu rides and a robbery later...I'm home.
We decided kind of last minute to go see the 14 Falls which are close to Thika. To get there we had to walk from Brackenhurst down to the main road, catch a matatu to Limuru, walk through the streets to another matatu station to catch one to Nairobi, spend a fair bit of time walking to another matatu to take us to Thika, and finally catching our final matatu to the 14 Falls. It may say it's a 14 passenger van but let me assure you that it is quite possible to squeeze in 20 people. But the 14 Falls were breath taking. We pulled up to a very flat area of land that looked like a red Texas desert and I was pretty much convinced that we were about to start filming Taken 3. However we walked along the path until we found the ticket box and paid our entrance fee, rounded the corner and a river was flowing along the plains just as flat as could be and then dramatically plummeting off a cliff. We got to dip our feet in the water and after jumping from boulder to boulder across the river Ayoub is convinced that I am the daughter of Tarzan (Dad is there something you have been hiding from me?)
After hanging out there for a while we caught a matatu back to Nairobi. Earlier, Kelly and I decided we were going to meet the other group of volunteers at Carnivore. Best decision of the night. It's a really nice restaurant where they bring you all types of meat for you to try and it's all you can eat. I promised the table that I would try everything without dismissing it from the name or its appearance. Next time I'm not going to promise any such thing. We had samples of normal dishes such as chicken, turkey, lamb, beef, sausages. Then there was the more...interesting items such as ostrich, ostrich meatballs, and ox balls. And because of my promise I had to try a little bit of everything. Everything. The ostrich was great but the ox balls? No. No thank you. And for dessert they brought out pineapple pie and tea. After we put down our little yellow flag of surrender, it was time to dance. Little did we know that they were also holding a talent show in the next room so we got to see some pretty stunning acts. But, I felt like I was at prom in my street clothes. So, we went outside where the dance floor was. Let me tell you that people are not afraid to dance here. You have everything from the classic shaking of the hips to pretending you are a basketball start shooting the winning shot moves. When we got hot we went and bought a couple of cold drinks (don't go thinking they were "adult" drinks mom. I was in Letters) and found the only other white people at the club. They were both extremely nice and I found out that they are from Indianapolis and attended the United States Merchant Marine Academy and were flying a plane back from Japan. Ya it sounds like a pretty boring job to me too. After extreme peer pressure to go dance we made our way to the dance floor. After a few minutes however I felt a tug on my bag and discovered someone's hand rummaging around on my sack. Queue my awesome karate moves. I told the guys what had happened and they both checked their back pockets to which one discovered everything was there and the other had his entire wallet stolen. That definitely put an end to our night so we headed out. Kelly and I had planned on just taking the bus back with the group we met up with but to our horror they only took the small car and barely had room enough for themselves. Remember how I said you could fit 20 people in a 14 passenger van? Well we found a way to cram 7 people into that small car. And the great thing is that right after we walked through the door of the house, the rain started.

Day 30

Pin the Tail on the Donkey

This saying has never ever been meant in such a literal way.

Take a minute. Brace yourselves.

The children at Hope were crawling around on the ground pretending to be dogs and barking and such with a cute little tail. It’s Halloween (yes, they do celebrate halloween here) so I thought maybe it’s a left over from a costume from a previous year or something. 

Only when I went over and asked what they were doing and to potentially join in on their game did they rip the object out of the kid’s pants and thrust a severed donkey’s tail in my face.

Sight was the first sense to hit me. I’ll spare you details of this horrific encounter.

Then the smell of it filled my nose. There are many unpleasant smells here in Kenya. I will never forget my first day at Hope and all the new aromas I had to get used to, but this surpassed any nasty smell I have ever known. EVER.

But before you all get sick and decide forever to disregard this entry there is a better side. (Did you see how I didn’t split the infinitive Mom? See I listen)

Like I said, today was Halloween so Kelly and I decided to do something fun with the children--Halloween Masks!

Essentially, this consisted of foam plates with eye cutouts and a stick shoved through the side for a handle. What a success! 

We brought the tables outside into the sun (holy hot day. Not your typical Colorado Halloween) and they sat down to color the plates in any which way they wanted and then brought them to us to attach the sticks--which were really shish kabob sticks (don’t panic Dad, we watched them like hawks).

And then we brought out the finale--SWEETS! They got in a giant circle we went around passing out a single sweet to each child. I’ve never seen more joy on a child’s face over a single piece of candy. The second they saw the bag the all ran around screaming (yes screaming) “SWEETIES!!” 

I would have loved to pass out the rest of the bag but even after one piece these children were bouncing off walls (we bought two kilos of sweets and only went through half of one of the bags). So, we are saving them for another day.

Day 27

(Before reading this entry, it should be known that I have permission to write about David. Enjoy)

David is my best friend. He is so wonderful and yet so sick.

I finally broke down and asked the awkward question that’s been bothering me since day one; I asked head teacher Mary why David was at Hope, in PP3, if he is 12 years old and is much brighter than the level he’s being taught.

Here is David’s story:

David lives with his mother and six year old brother, Peter, who is also in PP3 (yes, David said this made him very sad at times). According to Mary his family is more “well off” than most of the other families whose children attend Hope. 

David also has a condition that prevents him from moving on to a primary school. At the end of each year, the children of Hope take their exams in hopes of moving on to the next level which is primary school. At the end of each year, David takes his exams and exceeds the average. At the end of each year, the primary schools he applies to sees his scores but David is turned away.

The reason for this? A colostomy. David has an stoma complete with a bag he has to wear every day. The schools deem this as a health issue to the other children and so David is denied entrance to primary school.

So far, David has had two surgeries to try to get him to the point where he won’t need the bag. So far, the success of the surgeries last for a few days but eventually fail. However, the length of the success increased with each surgery. 

Now, David is about to go in for his third surgery (He had his consultation today). At this point everyone is praying for the success of this surgery to be permanent. His mother only wants the best for him and even for a wealthy family keep in mind that his family is in the slums of Limuru and three surgeries cost a lot. So much that the boys didn’t show up at school because the tuition was due and their mother couldn’t pay the total of 24 dollars for the year.

I know everyone has very busy lives and already has a ton on their to-do lists but I’m asking if you will take a single minute of your time, even the smallest prayer for David and his mother can work miracles. His mother hasn’t asked for financial support in any form. She came to me to ask for prayers and love. Every prayer gives them the strength to continue to hope and to continue to try.

So while you’re in your car or standing in line for coffee or studying, take a moment to think about David and his brother and mother and support them in the strongest way--prayer.

Day 24

Half Way

I’m generally a pretty optimistic person and I like to look at the glass half full but no part of me in any way, shape, or form is able to see this as being a half full kind of situation.

My time here is half over and I’m in absolute disbelief that I only have 24 days left here in Kenya. I honestly feel like it’s maybe my second week here. It’s like my time here is in fast forward.

On the other hand, I’ve already spent 24 days here and even after three and a half weeks at Hope (and in Kenya in general), I’m still learning. Every day I’m learning something new, whether that be a new Swahili word or that someone greater than me has this trip in His hands, I’m learning. 

I came to teach and the miracle is that I am also the student. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I wanted to be adaptable when I came and I’ve exceeded that expectation of myself. I’m no longer flowing through Kenya, Kenya is forming me.

Day 17

18/10/2012

The children hate when I get dirty. Of course it's unavoidable but every time they see a smudge on my skirt the rush over and wipe it off. I personally don't mind. I mean that's why I came to Kenya in the first place; to get right into the thick of things.

Today was so great! The coordinators from the Tanzania project are visiting (they are supposed to take over the coordination here starting in 2013) and it was their day to come visit Hope. Of course I was instantly jealous because having lived in Africa for a while now, they have picked up Swahili. Enough to actually communicate with the kids. I can get the basic word here and there but I can't instruct them on how to play a new game or listen to why they are crying and offer comforting words. But I am determined to get there! Charity offered to record some phrases for me so I can learn them and hopefully use them with the children.

It was sunny again today which I see as an absolute blessing. My dad will tell you in a heartbeat that rain follows me and I'm beginning to think he's right. Either way, today we got to run around and play in the sun all afternoon and the children were in such a good mood because of it.

Does anyone remember nap time? When you'd come in off the playground all hot and tired and the teacher would offer you a drink and then you could just kind of relax and slip off into dream land? And if you're my sister you sleep well past wake up time.

I got to participate! I'm talking about how my 19 year old self came in off the playground and Mary told the children it was nap time and then found a bunched up scarf to use as a pillow and I my sweatshirt and we took naps for 45 minutes. To sum it up, it was glorious.

The children. Oh the children. They are so happy. I want to say despite where they come from but that's me comparing their lives to mine back in the states. To them this is life and it's so rich. I can honestly say that I've never seen a group of children more full of smiles and laughter. It lifts my spirits when I get to step out of the van and hear all of them shouting, "Breckren" and reaching through the fence. God has blessed me so.

Day 16

17/10/2012

Well I almost made it. But, alas, I caught the cold that half the house had. I’ve stayed home from project because to expose the children to this nasty bug would be selfish. The power has been off all morning. (Actually, if I’m being honest, the power is out rather frequently) So instead of wallowing in despair that I'm stuck at home and not at project...I went outside. Why? 

Well because we actually got a break from this rain and there was a big yellow orb in the sky that was warm and inviting. 

Why do I get the feeling as if I'm writing from Indiana?

Any way, I'm sitting out on my red striped blanket and everything was fine and dandy until the ants invaded. Excuse me, you were not invited to my party.

This is my first and only complaint.

Communication when it comes to Charity is atrocious. I was definitely not in the mood for her to lie straight to my face this morning. Here's what happened:

When I first came to Kenya she recommended that I go to Hope because "Belinda is there by herself and it's not a good idea to have only one volunteer there." I have been at Hope by myself for over a week now. I was excited to get new volunteers because one would be joining me at Hope. However, when I was on my way to project on Monday, Charity said I would not be getting a new volunteer. After some reasoning she said she would ask the girl that came by herself if she would like to go to Hope.

I came home later that day and asked the girl if she was going to come to Hope tomorrow all excited that I get a new friend to help split up the work. She then replied with saying, "We three are going to a new school they just started working with and actually we started today. I love the kids already..." and she went on to talk about how her day was. I asked her if she had been given the option of coming to Hope.

No.

This morning Charity knocked on my door and after going through the small talk of hey, how are you, how are you feeling, do you need a doctor stuff she changed the subject to Hope.

I'm standing in my doorway with a fever and wanting to sleep when she says, "So I asked [the girl] if she wanted to go to Hope during our orientation on Tuesday and she said she preferred to go to the other school. I'm sorry."

First instinct would be to say oh so she probably asked and the girl felt bad about saying no so she told me Charity hadn't. Only actions speak louder than words. When the girl told me Charity hadn't said anything she genuinely looked confused. Also after that she asked me what kind of school Hope was.

I don't mind being at Hope by myself. Honestly (more children to interact with because I'm the only one outside). But, lying to people is not ok. Especially if you run an organization. I wonder if she thought I would never find out but I live in the same house as the girl so I was bound to find out sooner than later.

Does she really think so little of her volunteers that she can't be straightforward with them? That she has to fabricate stories to "keep the peace?" Because the Truth really does come out so why not eliminate the part where the volunteer finds out you lied and knows you are lying right to her sick, tired face and just be honest in the first place?

Day 14 (No you didn't miss any)

15/10/2012

I haven’t written in quite a while but I have had nothing to write about. The power has been scarce and it have been raining for three days straight. When you think about Africa don’t you think dry, thirsty land? I did. And that’s what I packed for. Reality is, however, that I came during the shorter of the two rain seasons. And I decided to leave my rain boots back in Colorado--smart choice. Today we get new volunteers! I”m pretty excited about that. I”m currently at Hope alone and it’s os overwhelming. ALL the kids want my attention and I’m not THAT good at multi-tasking. David is waring an Abercrombie sweater today and it makes me want to throw up. I used to be the biggest Abercrombie snob ever; I wouldn’t be caught dead in a thrift store just ask my mother. How stuck up and backwards I was. Now, one sweater--about 48 dollars let’s say--pays for a year of school for four children or four years of schooling for one child. And now I get to see that same logo I knew so well being scuffed up, thrown in the mud, tugged on, sewn back together, and ripped all over again. David doesn’t know the story of where his sweater comes from just as Abercrombie doesn’t know where its sweater is now. But it’s the juxtaposition of these two worlds not this cold African rain that has me shuddering.

Day 8

9/10/2012

Hair. Freckles. Veins. These are all words that fascinate the kids. My skin is so pale and different to them that the refer to me as Mizungou--white in Swahili. They can’t see their veins through their dark skin so they enjoy tracing the tracks that run up and down he insides of my arm. Another foreign blemish is the small dark brown spots we call freckles. We searched vigorously before we finally found a small, barely visible freckle on Dvid’s arm. Finally, hair. The texture, look and feel of mine is so strange to them that they are content just sitting and braiding it all day long. They also do not have hair that covers their arms like mine; they have no need for it. Physically, I look so different to them that every day they find something new to ogle at.

Day 7

8/10/2012

Structure. That’s what is missing from Hope School. Or, maybe it’s motivational teachers. Mary, in PP1 is an excellent teacher. She always seems like she wants to do activities with the children, but Marry, in PP3, also the head teacher, seems so cold. I’ve only actually seen her at the school for the entire day twice and on of those days she spent removing her braids. I’m not too sure about Susan but she seems pretty fun and likes to get the kids to sing outside. Also, from what I hear, Mary lies. She at least has been known to not tell the eact truth. But, overall, I love it at Hope. The kids are so full of joy and laughter. They have the cutest laughter. Although, today had a few crocodile tears. Mary (the one I teach with in PP1) says Monday is a hard day for most kids because they don’t want to be at school--who isn’t that way though?

Day 6

7/10/2012

The power is off. I sat down to write about my relaxing Sunday and a sudden darkness spread through my room. So, I’m outside trying to write in what little light of the day is left. Apparently my family has been texting me--a lot actually--but my phone isn’t receiving them. It was so good to talk to them and see their faces. 

I haven’t done anything interesting today so I thought I would use this entry as a place for my petty first-world feelings. You've been warned.

I miss my friends and school (yes even school). I’m feeling a little left out on the excitement of becoming a Big and running around decorating our Littles’ doors with Dimi.  But that’s a 26 hour trip away and I’m here in Africa. I’m not complaining about my decision to come or what I’m doing here in any way. I just wish I could live both lives without sacrificing the other.

Day 5

6/10/2012

Ah, Saturday. The day to relax and breathe and just be. Oh, and the day to visit the Elephant Orphanage, Giraffe Center, and the Traditional Culture Center. Ok, so, maybe I was a bit too busy to relax and breathe but I had the time of my life.The first stop we made was at the elephant orphanage. These little elephants were rescued after their mothers had been murdered by poachers. They are then taken to this nursery where they are encouraged to learn to survive on their own until they can, ultimately, be released back into the wild. It was fascinating. We got to pet the elephants and when I bent down to take a photo next to it, it was so interested in my shiny watch that it wrapped its trunk around my wrist and started tugging on my arm. Then, we got to go to the giraffe center! This was my favorite part of the day. I actually got to feed a real giraffe! We each got branches and went up to the second story balcony and the giraffe, one by one, are the food we held out for it. Let me just say that giraffes have strange tongues. They are blueish-black and almost sticky. If you held the branch back just far enough, the giraffe will stick its tongue out and wrap it around your hand and pull the branch into its mouth. I almost died from excitement. It was time to move on and after my goup peeled me away from the fence, we went to the traditional culture center. The first stop on our tour was to see the Bomas. These are the huts that the tribes lived in. All I could think of while I was crouched over inside the much walls was, “Oh hello Okonkwo. Have things fallen apart yet?” It was really interesting but it also seemed almost normal that this is how people lived. After exploring seven different styles of Bomas, we went into the auditorium to watch the traditional dances of the tribes. I only have one word for that show--Sex. It’s all about flirting between the male and female and yet it’s done in such a graceful manner. It makes “grinding’” look like something you wold find on Animal Planet. After such a long day, I’m exhausted and cannot wait to get to the Internet. Someone from my family better be online; I’m dying to hear from them. I haven’t even received a single text from them since I landed in Nairobi...and that’s strange.

Day 4

5/10/2012

Today was our first day helping to rebuild the school. When we first got there, we were told to help move the sticks and pick up the rubbish. Easy. I’ve been doing that all summer landscaping with Dad. Let me tell you what. That rubbish was probably the most disgusting task I’ve ever been given. And all we got was a potato sack to put it in for disposal. No gloves. I’m talking decaying underwear, shoes, glass bottles with liquid in them, and much much worse. After working on that task for about an hour and a half, we got to work inside. The ceilings needed to be painted so me, with my painting expertise (hey, I remodeled my room a few times), volunteered to do that job. We got to use the handmade ladder that were completed just that morning. Sketchy. The had a tripod stance and rungs up one side. AND we had to stand on the top rung in order to reach the ceiling properly. Yes it was extremely wobbly. The next task was to sand the ceiling of the next room so it could be painted later. This time we got to use scaffolding. I’m talking a metal frame with the door of the classroom laid across the top. I’m pretty sure to props we made in The Theatre were more stable. In the end we all went home covered in dust, dirt, and sweat with a feeling of accomplishment.

Day 3

4/10/2012

All better! I think it was just from exhaustion. I was up for over 58 hours straight and I think my body had had enough. So, I went back to project today. David. David is my new best friend. He is twelve years old and lives with his mother and brother, Peter, who is seven. He loves to teach me Swahili so we trade off; one English word for the Swahili equivalent. So far the most useful word I’ve learned is “Hapana”--No. All these children want is to be held...all the time. And it’s great but then they start to fight each other for attention so rip is a point when it’s better just to say that’s enough--Hapana. I wish I had more hands for these children to hold. I love them so much already.

Day 2

3/10/2012

I am sick. I’m not sure how or why but I am. I went to project this morning and around 11:00 I got very sick very suddenly. After getting sick two more times, Eric came and picked me up. Now, three hours later, there is nothing left in my system. It’s gross and to escape this awful feeling I’m going to nap

Day 1

Kenya...where people drive worse than Italians and people dash between cars on the highways.

There really is no logic to the way people get around. So many cars on roads tat hold four lanes when it was built for two. And on top of that there are people walking around to fill the spaces in between. I'm talking in and out of and along the highways where there isn't even civilization for another 10 minutes in a car.

My driver was Fanta. His real name is Fatasima but all I heard was Fanta and he like the nickname so Fanta it is. He taught me three very important things: the gestation of an elephant is 23 months, the gestation of a lion in 3.5 months, and that Kenyans value sincerity and give everything. BUT I plan on using that story to wrap up my journey here so let's just start with my day.

I got in at 0645, I got to Customs at 0700, finished customs at 0853, found my ride and started the two hour (that should have been one hour) trip to Brackenhurst. By 1300 I had gone through orientation, gotten a tour of the center, shown my room, saw the new school we are to help refurbish, and arrived at my project placement.

There were wild chickens running around, a latrine, two classroom doors, and a single slide. That was all. The children, filthier than I imagined, were running around in ragged clothes playing with trash. I walked inside the gate and immediately smelled the feces...both human and animal alike. Litter covered the play yard. It was overwhelming. I had prepared myself for bad but this was worse. The children avoided me at first while I taled to the teacher Mary who turned 21 today. It was in her class that I was to spend the duration of my stay in. Then it happened.

I felt pressure on my hand which increased to a vice-like grip and as I looked down, the girl said the only full English sentence she, and most of the others, knew, "What's your name?"
The floodgates opened. Every square inch of me was being tugged at. It was in that moment sitting on the ground with my face being poked, fingers being pulled, hair being ratted, and clothes getting footprints all over, I realized

More than the soles of my shoes have been stained by this red earth.

and it's only been 12 hours. I cannot wait to discover what God has planned for my stay here.

Nothing Short of a Miracle

I was just able to witness the most amazing thing. I woke up (yes I actually got 20 minutes of sleep) at 4:07 and the sky was pitch black save for several thousand twinkling stars. And then as we were flying over the shoreline of Africa it was as if god put a mirror over the land. A single light appeared right on the edge and then one by one more and more lights appeared. They were shy at first and if you looked directly at them they would disappear but soon they were strong and closer together and then across the rest of the land more and more. It was like looking down at stars. Now we are flying at 36000 feet which means we're above cloud level. Way above. As the sky started to lighten with the rising sun a dark very large cloud disrupted the continuum of the horizon and as I was admiring the cloud lightning struck. If you've never seen lightning from above then I hope someday you do. There is just no way to describe it. At that point the sun was trying so very hard to peak over the horizon but it held back until the very last second and when it broke the barrier holding it out of sight it burst into my little cabin window as red and vibrant as I've ever seen it before. It can only be described as a pomegranate. And now as we make our last turn before touchdown in Nairobi we have to break through a layer of fluffy, well spun, pink cotton candy. 

En Route

I am on my way to Kenya. I'm on my way to Kenya! I am on my way to KENYA!! I can barely contain myself. I was thinking I would get a few minutes of shut eye on this flight but are you kidding me?! No way am I sleeping! This flight is so empty that we all sat in our assigned seats and once the doors closed there was a major seat swapping swaray. So...I grab a window seat. So...all hopes for sleep dissipated with that move. Besides it'll be sunny when I get there so there won't be any threat of me falling asleep. Ok let's be real. I'll be taking way too may photos and ogling at new sights for sleep. The adrenaline has kicked in and there is no shutting it off. Ok time for the takeoff...of the rest of my life!

Guardian Angels

Adriana and Santiago. Those are the angels god sent me. I met them getting off the plane in London and found they too were traveling to Nairobi via Dubai. They had missed the same plane I had. They have saved up to go in a 14 day safari in Kenya and Tanzania. Together we discover London heathrow and then Dubai international. Without them I probably would have wandered aimlessly through the airport and then returned to my gate much too early to board. Instead we walked around taking photos and sending postcards and bought a little something that said "hey! We were in Dubai!" I mean how often is that going to happen in my lifetime? We talked and joked and they made this awful reroute oh so worth it in the end. I love them for that and wish them all the best on their trip. 

We are currently waiting in the terminal for our flight and boy is it cultural. We have Spanish (supplied by Santiago and Adriana), English (by yours truly and some others, German to my right, French to my left, tribal languages here and there, Arabic at the gate,and Swahili all around. I could live right here in this terminal and be happy. I mean really, what more could I ask for? Friends, language, culture, diversity, and love. Everywhere there is love. A man carrying a woman's bag for her because it is heavy. A group letting a family in front of them because they have children. And of course my friends who have taken me along side them in their journey across the globe. All that's missing is some music and a warm drink. Scratch that. The woman behind me started humming. It counts and I'll take it. Now about that warm drink...

Traveling Babies and A Nice Stranger

Well this flight is a lot longer than I thought it would be. It may he because I didn't find out how many hours ahead Dubai was from London. Ok the flight attendant just said 1500 Dubai time which means I only have an hour left. Still no sleep though. Once I get there I have to figure out where my next flight is. You know. The flight that actually gets me to Nairobi. The place where I should be exiting the terminal right now to find my ride and luggage and a proper bed for some actual sleep. Lucky for me I brought my toothbrush/paste and a hairbrush wish me so I don't feel quite so gross after over 24 hours on a plane. 

It may seem like I'm complaining but I'm really not. Missing my flight was a blessing. I am no longer stressed about catching a flight. I get to see another part of the world (this trip has ended up being a global trip). And I've met the nicest people. My phone was about at three percent battery and I knew my dad would go all Liam Neeson and pull a "Taken" on me if I didn't tell him I made it to Dubai an ultimately to Nairobi. So this couple up in first class was all like "hey we have an iPad and an outlet. We can charge it up here and you can grab it when it's done." Since they are technically only a row and a divider away I thanked them a million times and let my phone ride first class. And the people in my row have the cutest baby ever. She is so content with life and barely made a sound the entire time. I hope my kids are that well behaved in the future. She deserves to be the Gerber child of the year. 

It's kind of strange when you can say you saw the sun rise and set twice in the same day. So have I lives two days in the time it takes me to live one? I'm technically supposed to be asleep right now because it's night once again but I still feel like it's 1300 back home. Not almost 2300 Dubai time. My plane out of here leaves at 0230 which means I have time to get off get a sandwich an get on my plane and then off to Kenya! But first...the airport. 

What Luck

So I missed my flight to Nairobi. My plane leaving Dallas was delayed by one hour and thirty seven minutes. Originally I only had about fifteen minutes to get all the way through heathrow (including security...again) to my gate. Of course there was no sleeping for me.  When the pilot announced this morning we had arrived in London Ahead of schedule (early enough for me to catch my plane) I was elated. No. God had other plans. We were put on hold for landing for 45 minutes. I missed my plane. Now I'm on a 13:00 flight to Dubai and my plane from there leaves at 2:45. Yes am. and if all goes according to plan I should be in Nairobi at 6:30 tomorrow morning. There is a reason I'm on this plane I know it so I'm remaining calm in every aspect except that I packed my phone charger in my carry on that became a checked suitcase in Denver! How am I supposed to notify my parents I made it to Dubai and then to Nairobi? Beats me. I'll have to make friends with another apple product lover. I also feel that I owe heathrow an apology. At first I called it a little dumpy and then I got to the real airport area instead of just the unloading zone. It's fabulous! I got a cappuccino (I'm not going to sleep any way) looked around a department store and am sitting at my gate. I pray for god to make the reason for this reroute clear to me. 

Let the Adventure Begin

(A small note before reading my posts: I will refer to time using international time aka military time because it makes more sense than saying am/pm noon/midnight etc. you'll just know by the numbers. Then there is no confusion as to when I did activities or most important when my flights are)

 I am on the airplane headed to London! Not only do I have an assigned window seat I get a whole row to myself and the guy across the isle is super nice and has promise to show me a British card game later. It is a tad cold but thankfully my mama gave me her pashmina for the trip so I'll be cozy warm. Takeoff was delayed by an entire hour so that only leaves me with roughly 15 minutes to make my connecting flight to Nairobi. I'm kind of panicking. Ok I'm really panicking but I know God has this in His hands and he will make good come from this. Unfortunately I can make the plane go any faster than scheduled so I just have to sit back and pray everything works out. He will make everything work out for the better. All I have to say is g'bye America. Ello London!

Narcotics and Nausea

Well I can officially say that I probably have the worst immune system on campus.
I started out be getting an extremely sore, fire-engine-red throat and a 102.2 temperature--I crawled right back into bed. Well my throat was getting better and I went to the Aces vs ISU game which was to be televised on ESPN (Oh you better believe I was seen on TV).
7 hours later (4:30am central time): I have the flu.
Not just any kind of flu but the flu conjured up by Satan himself. I cannot keep anything down--not even a sip of 7up.
I attempted going to my first class of the day. I got there and little old me forgot that my FYS class was ALL ABOUT FOOD. Ten minutes into class, my professor dismissed me and told me to go back to bed. So, I emailed all of my professors saying that I wasn't going to make it to class seeing as how I could barely turn my head to look at the clock.
And if that weren't bad enough my gallbladder decided to seize up on me around 1:00pm and every now and then go into a spasm.
My friend Dimi, bless her, made "36248" trips to the student store to get me things I needed and then preceded to sit with me the entire afternoon.
BUT it doesn't even stop there. Around, oh, midnight I would say the pain in my side became unbearable and by 1:00am Safety and Security was driving us to the hospital.
I wasn't in a good mood at that point--I mean honestly who would be? So, when the squatty little woman behind the desk asked, "Do you need to be seen?" it took everything in me not to say, very sarcastically, "No I don't I just love to come in to the ER at 1am crying to watch info-mercials."
Rude I know. Instead it came out as, "Yes ma'am I do."
So they took my information and vitals and then I got to sit in a wheel chair thing for another 20 minutes while a room opened up.
The worst part of the night was probably the IV. I am not a fan of IVs. I'm not one of those people who has a problem with needles but on an IV the needle is gigantic!
But of course I watched them insert it into my arm (which burned)
Then came sweet relief. The nurse, after drawing 6 tubes of blood, gave me some narcotic to help with the pain and the effects were almost instant. I was swimming in a matter of seconds. Then, after rinsing the tube out with saline, she gave me anti nausea stuff and I felt loads better.

So, Christmas Break just ended and finally I'm back on campus which (hopefully) means I can start posting blogs on a regular basis!

I guess I wasn't quite aware of how much I missed Colorado until I started crying on the plane home when I got to see the mountains through my window. Some call it pathetic and dramatic--I call it love.

I was so excited to be home I could barely contain myself! I was pushing through the crowd like a crazy lady because I knew I was a short train ride away from seeing my mama. 

I had talked to her the day before and I knew my sister had finals and my dad had a game so she told me she would be coming alone--which I was fine with.

Well, of course, I'm sure you can guess she was lying but you don't understand my family quite yet...

While riding the escalator up to the main floor I caught sight of one seriously bright yellow sweatshirt.

I about peed my pants with excitement! It was my adorably confident Best Friend Til I Die Lauren! 

And next to her was our foreign exchange student Maria!

And next to her was my little sister Avery!

And next to her was my wonderful mother Deirdre!

And all wonderful women were holding a sign that said "Welcome Home Breck"

And, as if that wasn't enough already, they started singing!

"Aint no mountain high, aint no valley low, aint no river wide enough baby"

That, in short, describes my family perfectly!

But it doesn't end there. When we arrived in Greeley we went straight to my daddy's game and when he came out of the locker room he ran across the floor and have me a giant one-of-a-kind daddy hug.

It felt good to be home.

I never realized just how much I missed my family--or Colorado in general; I was so hell bent on getting out and now I severely miss everything Colorado holds for me. Who knew! (Well my mom did but that's the blog below. Feel free to read to get a better understanding)
Now after getting back to campus in Indiana, and talking with my mom and dad about things I'm thinking I may be in the wrong place.
I'm not saying that Indiana was a waste! It's been great for me! I discovered that I can be independent; I discovered what I love in life; I discovered so many great friends; and I discovered where I want to go. Indiana is just a stepping stone.
Now, I know that I need to be back in Colorado. Not back home with my parents but in Colorado. I can still be independent and on my own but the school I'm looking at seems to have a better program than Evansville can offer me and so it's an option right now.
BUT (and there is always a but)
This semester is the most important thing right now.
It's easy to get caught up in the "what could be" that we lose sight of what's going on right now.
So it's focus time. To get There I need to be Here.
Until next time!
XOXO
Brecklen Taylor