Tic toc…

Today is just about 1 week until I return to the land of ice, as they call it in Kenya these days. Since we’re out of money in due to the robbery, we can’t really move around much, which means we’re all set in Nakuru, more or less. The sun has been astonishingly rough the past days, and here we are thinking we couldn’t get more tanned than this. It’s so weird, these 3 months rolled on like the speed of sound. Just looking at the stuff in my room makes me feel noxious; I have no idea on earth how to get all that shit into my backpack.  And just thinking about the trip from the airport to my apartment makes me even more noxious.

People are starting to talk a lot more about the election coming up this year. The last time it ended up in violence and woe.  Around 1,300 people were killed and the country was in a state of civil war. Nakuru is at the time quite calm but this fixation about the election might stir things up soon. But hopefully by then we’ll be vanished. The latest news is that due to the court ruling this January, the election is now postponed to March 2013. Both way people are pissed, and somehow they still manage to make me cackle. They’ve remade the East African greeting phrase “Karibu Kenya, hakuna matata” (Welcome to Kenya, there’re not problems) into “Karibu Kenya, hakuna matata, hakuna maji, hakuna, stima, hakuna gas” which means “Welcome to Kenya, there’re no problems, no water, no electricity, no gas”. As pissed off as they might be and as much as African time pisses me off from time to time, this is one thing they‘ve got damn straight.

Spending the last I don’t know what being, again,  pissed off because of the situations I keep ending up in, I’m now calm as a coma. That might be very much because of my 15-17 hours of sleep every day. Since I’ve now passed the exam, got my documents signed and is legally free to go, but have no money to really move, I couldn’t think of anything else I rather want to do than sleep. I can sleep in my bed, under the palm tree, in the sunshine, in the shade; actually, everywhere I look is a potential place for me to fall asleep, and to stay asleep in. And yes, this makes one immensely lazy, but it’s certainly not like I wasn’t in this shape of laziness before.  This is just an extended and more call it if you’d like severe version. The Kenyans might fell anger and say differently they’re in lack of everything and nothing, but here sure as hell is time to sleep.

So good night –  catch u in a week.

Photos stop – camera is gone

So..  long time no update. Lots of things happened since last time and all of our plans some how did not happen. What did happen though was that we got robbed and beaten up in Nairobi on the 23^rd. We’re to be honest lucky even to be alive at this point. They smacked us down with baseball bats and pulled knives, tried to rape us, classic. They did not manage to go all the way, left us with some rough scars and took everything we had. So here we are, two white girls standing alone in Nairobi, no money, phone, passport or anything. We tried to get help but nobody wanted to help us, so we walked the streets scared as hell til we found some angel who called the police who came, picked us up to the station where nobody gave a shit and told us to come back next morning, which was in 4 hours. We had nowhere to sleep, no money, again. Anyhow, long rough story short, we came back next day, after some shouting at the officer he decided to write a report. Followed by many hours of struggling to get to the embassy, we finally arrive to find out they’re closed. The Swedish embassy even shut down and didn’t exist. We’re standing outside the Danish embassy, at Christmas eve, nowhere to go or to sleep.. so we thought this was it, another night in the streets of Nairobi. But then Santa Claus himself appeared, Tomas, Danish man working for the Danish embassy drives by, hears our story, takes us home to his “castle” where we celebrate xmas the Danish way, jumping around a tree, getting gifts and drinking too much wine (the last one is on me).

3 weeks after this, after many visits and discussions with embassies, insurances, mothers and fathers I went back to Nairobi to get my passport and visa. This wasn’t easy at all and took me over 12 hours to get the immigration center not to throw me out of the country because of my lost visa. Ways and how, I managed and is now still around, legally at this point.

It is in no way possible to describe detailed everything we’ve been through, most of the things I don’t even want to acknowledge myself. But to sum it up fast, we’ve been sleeping in nowhere without money, no help from organizations, home countries or anything. What made us survive was our friends and family who in some miraculous way came up with ideas. So to all of you, there’s nothing I can say or do to show how thankful I am. And I don’t dare to think what would have happened if Tomas never found us. So Tomas, I’m all set.

No Zanzibar, no going home if we so wanted to, nothing. We’ve been unable to leave the country for a while. So what we did, is that we went to Mombasa and Watamu to chill with sharks and stuff and getting our minds all back together. Watamu is absolutely amazing, it is without a doubt one of the most fantastic places I’ve seen in a long time.

I don’t know how I manage to get my body in to trouble all the time. I ended up getting my earring up myheal so I can’t walk. Sucks, cause now running for the next 4 days is not going to be an option. Running is my therapist down here, and so it has been for most of the time. So these days I suddenly have lots of time to myself where I can sit, having daydreams about rugbrød and cheese, and all the things I want to do when I come back. If I need an earring up my heal so I will have to sit with a scalpel to get it out, then so it shall be.

At this day I have about 22 days left of my stay here. My family and friends, and school wants’ me to go home. Scarred for life I can understand them, considering the election that is about to take place here and all the crime that event will cause. But I can’t leave, even though I’ve been in situation after situation where I shouldn’t have survived, I don’t see myself as done here, yet. Yes I’m pissed off all the time since everybody is crossing my borders every day and nothing seems to be fixable for me here, but I’m ok all right. Being pissed off is not really helpful working at the hospital. I’m even more insane looking at people passing out like flies, being treated as animals than before. The established different is however that now I’m done observing considering their actions as interesting, going home trying to analyze them. At this point I question their actions and if they don’t give me the right answer I turn my back and leave for a few minutes, so I won’t explode. But going back home, no matter how much I miss it, is not going to solve anything. I actually think it would make things worse. I’m here now, tomorrow I might be or I might not. But, Mom, I’m coming soon I promise, in one piece.

Jumanji may not have been all that in the end of the day

Finding the veins of an African infant is like finding a suitable avocado. It’s a pity, really, because they’re more than endearing and one would like to help.

We’ve become a group of people hanging around wasting African time, from Australia, Kenya and UK. One of the Australians, dear Ben, owns this amazing restaurant and bar which we spend a lot of time in. Disappointment is that all of us are going separate directions for a while. Christmas will be spent in Nairobi City Hall for homeless kids, we’ll spend a few days in Lorenzos new place in the center of Nairobi to keep up with him. He did a good job and managed to collect a huge amount of worldwide money for the event, so he needs big recognition for that. Unfortunately he couldn’t join us for Zanzibar so we’re off to this paradise on our own meeting up with a few folks from home. I found out there’s shark season when we’re there. While my excitement over this event is tremendous, my dear travel partner is not as thrilled. I’ve talked to people who pointed out nice surfing spots and diving areas around the island. So somehow I’ll eventually keep up track with the sharks so we can convene.

The stars down here are amazing, riding home on a bike in the middle of the night from a wonderful night, leaning your head back and enjoying the ride out is indescribable. It’s a definite reality check. So are the mosquitoes, umbos. The sound of these animals, insects or whatever they could be mentioned as, is way too loud, and for some reason they decided to show up a few days before we leave this area. Great planning from both sides for once.

We found the joy of finding cheap stuff you can’t get for a reasonable price at home. This includes nailpolish to mc jackets. For some reason you end up looking like a hiphopper in a country you’d expected to see yourself in a gargantuan grandma dress. No complaints however. Except that I still miss certain foods, especially in this fastidious holiday that’s overtaking where you’re at. Down here every shop just looks like Santa stopped by with an awful hangover.

I managed to fall when I was out running when it suddenly became dark. My entire body is one big wound, I walk like I’m 95 and keep swearing like a sailor each time I try to open a door or walk up stairs. Got some dinner planning and backpack packing to entertain myself with, before I switch off the lights after another marvelous evening with lovely people and wine on a rooftop. I’ll make noise from paradise and send regards from the sharks.

Man’s biggest fear is a crazy woman, we’ll see how well the sharks will deal with that.

Most problems can or cannot be solved by NaCl

I have never.. seen so many dead people, half dead people sharing the same bed. Words can’t really describe the hospital, I so far consider it as unethical to take pictures so if you want to see the hospital, pick the first movie under the category blood bath. The names of the medicine here is like a circus, there’s absolutely no structure, so is the communication between nurses and patients.  Sad to say that they’re treated as monkeys, in a way, but in another way like fishes. You put all of them in the same little tub and let them hang around for as long as they hang around, basically. It’s frustrating when you do everything you can to save somebody, and the credit you get is “don’t overdose your brain, he’s gonna die in a month anyway”. 90% of the patients in our recent ward had HIV, others are plagued with tropical diseases as Malaria, TBT and meningitis. It’s awful to see how the lack of treatment and care develops the disease. The good thing though is that I get to play with those needles. The best part of the day when you’ve had hell of nothing going against you, is to sit on the back of a motorcycle feeling the wind gently slapping your face. Reality check for real.

We’ve been bar hopping this weekend and our conclusion, to every surprise, is that African wine costs 8 DKK/glass and tastes like heaven. Becoming an alcoholic here wouldn’t be hard. What is hard though is to get the Africans to understand that I’m not interested in marriage, no discussion. I’ve taken my consideration of buying a ring seriously to get them to understand the significance of my statement when I tell them that I’m occupied. However the locals like us by now, especially after seeing us in nursing uniforms (who can blame them) so no more mzungu price. A part from these things I’ve been fighting a cold for a century now, but seems like the sky is clearing up thanks to NaCl, thanks dr. daddy Orb for survival kit!

I pity you at home for the lack of snow, but lets get serious about it, you’re better without it whether you like it or not. The Christmas spirit down here is though not to observe, but we’re gonna fix it up! Together with Lorenzo and few others we’re planning to hold a Christmas dinner for homeless kiddos in the streets of Nairobi before we leave to Zanzibar to kick in 2013.

Enjoy the last few days before snow hits your ground!

Mama says all men are like toilets, vacant or engaged – full of crap

After spending two nights in a row in the nightlife of Nairobi, guided by new found friends Italian Lorenzo and German Marc, it’s finally time to go home to mama. Mama Ruth is what I would describe as a power woman, she’s literally super woman gone African, and she’s gonna sing me to sleep for 3 months. She hates beans – I love her. Her two kids are basically Disney Channel, cute and good fun and can share my frustration about the m&m situation. Daddy Afro is working during the week and only comes home on weekends. It’s nice to finally have a steady bed and be able to unpack the backpack now when seriousness at the hospital and lots of reading starts. Marc and Lorenzo did though manage to give full insight of good fun in Nairobi by night, and we all found our own taxi driver for the weekend that was happy to drive us around in the morning hours to find the best fries and chicken in town. He didn’t consider us as mzungu for some reason, so he got some chocolate for that.

Had the first day at the hospital today, after waiting 6hours in a “line” to get to talk with the chief of nursing, who was a very angry short fat little man with a suit that was 5 sizes too big for him. Having his already too big size in mindTheir uniforms look like they’re sailors serving on Titanic or something, and they have these sweet Mary Poppin-isch maids walking around filling some sort of function, I guess. But again, everything takes time, and somehow you adapt to it, because people around you don’t get stressed about things, which indicates that you yourself don’t seem to give a shit either. As far as this trip goes I’m in love with Africa, except from African Time. What I miss about home now when everything we approach seems to neglect us, is the capability of action. When something goes wrong at home, you can fix it, here you can’t really do anything but wait. Patients wait to die, we wait to see them die without having any power of action than holding their hands (if its allowed because of different rules in different tribes). Frustrating. Time goes really fast but yet everything somehow manages to get done.

Time to find a biker to take me home to mama!

Tschüss

No large M&M bags in Kenya – only small

At this point I’m sick off beans, I swear to god, and it hasn’t been more than two weeks. I miss Danish bread already. Finally found cheap tickets to Zanzibar for new years and a fantastic place to stay (close to a shark reef!!).  The good side of it is it takes us less than two hours to get to Zanzibar by air. The bad side, there’s always one of those of course, is that it takes us more than 10 hours to fly back with 500 stops.

Since last time I’ve visited two ghettos, the first one in Nanyuki where I met Ruth. Her contented father owned a bakery where he baked the most incredible cakes I’ve tasted since Magnolia Bakery in NYC. 19 year old Ruth is spending her Saturday nights cleaning her home with stilettos and makeup since it’s too dangerous to go outside after 8pm, even to hail for a cab. She was amazed that I have the freedom to cycle home at 6am in the morning without being robbed, since it is so unproblematic for robbers to put somebody down on a bike. I was amazed she could clean in stilettos, since I can’t walk in high heels.

Kibera, the ghetto of Nairobi, was interesting as well, considering people had nice English skills and declined you when you tried to speak Swahili – doh. I started talking to this guy who told me that women should be treated like egs, you need to hold them carefully because if you crash them, it’s over. Point taken.

I was out running in the mid city in Nairobi this morning, total chaos. Driving a car in Nairobi is seriously like jumping off a cliff. Just went to a Masai Market, beautiful women those Masai’s. So tomorrow I’m moving to the family I’m going to stay with, then on Monday it is the first day at the hospital. We’ve spent a few days now discussing safety regarding risks of HIV while working.

So.. since here’s only small m&m bags with about 5½ m&m’s/bag…for those of you who have nothing better to do than send me a bag of m&ms in xmas, I’ll leave you my adress when I’m all set with familyo.

Nakutakia siku njema!

Mzungu

So far so absolutely amazing. We’re located at a girls school a little outside Nairobi to learn swahili. One of our teachers here founded a primary school between two mountains in Nanyuki, which we visited after two days. This long walk turned out to bring an absolute insight the Africa you’ve seen in pictures. As I approached the staring children they looked at me like I was an alien, if even that. They couldn’t stop touching my hair, nose, ears and it was remarkable to them that my skin turned red when you pressured it for a while. Outside this school was a small primitive village where I bumped into an old man with quite a funk style who had intertwined his ears. He told me it was a tribe thing, but added that it also worked as a filter to all the crap the world seems to declare. I’m just sayin..

What hits me the most is the children, they are very curious, but because that I’m mzungu, white person, it’s scary, yet they can’t stop touching you. I met this beautiful little girl, I call her my space girl because of her over the most cool sweat shirt, who wanted me to be her mother and take her with me to Denmark. I explained the situation to her and her reaction was bitter but could bare having me as her big sister. From the age of 15 you are declared as an adult, therefore you now have to keep a certain physical distance to your parents, especially your father, in case sexual feelings from the father’s side would be developed. Not even a hug, and definitely forbidden is a kiss on the cheek.

The fruit over here is absolutely splendid, that is if you remember to wash the fruit several times unless you want to spend 48 hours in a restroom. Talking about fruit makes me have to mention the insects, that has the tremendous size of my brain. This I cannot accept and have no interest in adapting to, I hate them as much as they hate me.

Since I’m soon going to a malaria zone I’ve started taking these pills that gives me some pretty interesting dreams. After spending 3 months at mental hospital in Denmark I’m qualified enough to statement my mind when dreaming as psychotic. Ways and how, in a few days I’ll be going to visit Kibera, the largest slum in Nairobi, to check out medical status and atmosphere.

Hope you’re doing nothing less than fantastic where ever you are.

Kwaheri