Latest Pics!

Pictures! I made it this far yesterday then the power went out. Keep your fingers crossed this will post:

These are my puppies, Wewe (black) and Kuja (tan). Wewe (pronounced WayWay) is really terrible and is trying to eat Kuja in this picture. I finally gave them each their own bed and that helped a bit.

Here I am with the group of volunteers I met enjoying the sunrise view over the rainforest from the highest point.

Here's the view a bit later as we walked down the hill to the bat cave. Isn't it beautiful? I can ride my bike here.

Here's the bat cave. Hundreds of eyes peering out through the darkness.

Typical view from the back of a Matatu. 20+ people in a 14 seater

This is Mama Agnes harvesting maize in my back yard

Mama Agnes, Mama Nora, and some neighbors sorting out the harvested maize. Most of it will be ground into flour for Ugali.

This is the Medical Day I helped out with. It was sponsored by a British group. Some of them are in this picture. The guy with the hat in the middle was a drunkard who followed us around, and that's a Kenyan Red Cross team that worked with us.

I like this picture becuase it reminds me of what will happen to my project if I don't get people motivated to help themselves. This is a Peace Corps project, an orphanage for AIDS orphans, that failed as soon as the volunteer left. I wonder how many projects suffer the same fate...

Here's my first car! I don't think there are any left in the states (I haven't seen one since I sold mine), but there are at least two I've seen in Kenya. I miss my Capri.

Wazungu Wengi Wamefika Kakamega

As I’ve adopted Kenyan English I’ve noticed a downward trend in my speaking abilities, as more and more often I’m saying things in very simplistic and grammatically incorrect ways. For instance, I’ve found myself asking “How is you?” or something ridiculous like “The rain, it will come today, isn’t it?” The accent I’ve adapted to make myself understood is equally ridiculous, and I’m pretty sure my writing skills is getting worse as well, isn’t it?

I can pretty much say goodbye to every last bit of Spanish and German I’ve learned in the past. I even find myself struggling to remember the names of girls I’ve dated or old friends, simple vocabulary words that are not understood by Kenyans, or teachers I’ve had. My Swahili is continuing to improve though, as is my knowledge of African culture, so at least I’m gaining knowledge that is useful here but will not be so helpful when I go back to the states. I am also planning to start studying for graduate exams soon. I feel my knowledge of Kenyan tribal customs will not be so helpful, whereas the English grammar I’m forgetting might have come in handy. It’s reassuring to know that, regardless, I can still recite the names and weapons of every teenage mutant ninja turtle, as well as their theme song.

So it’s been a fun week. Work with the Network is coming along well, but there will be a lot of waiting before things pick up again: waiting for chili seeds to grow, waiting for the lawyer to get back to us, waiting for the grant money to come, etc. etc. It’s a way of life here. In the meantime I’ve found other ways to stay busy. There’s been a lot of wazungu around Kakamega lately, and I’ve been collaborating with them on various projects. A group came for a medical mission last Thursday and I helped them out. It wasn’t in any way sustainable but it was fun to hand out medications prescribed by doctors and count out pills with a group of attractive British girls and their dry, sarcastic sense of humor. A mother of one of the girls was here as well, and she was energetic and hilarious. She was a VSO volunteer for three years in Sierra Leone in the late sixties, with stories about Peace Corps volunteers she would not share except that she was “a naughty girl back then”. The organisation the girls were with is also building houses for people here, and I was invited to go out in the field with them to see the progress. I may do that tomorrow just to see if the money is actually being used the way it was intended. I grow more skeptical about any kind of outside funding every day. I have stories about naïve wazungu from the states and where their money actually goes that will drop your jaw, and I am in the process of finding the donors of one particularly rotten church leader, but I will save that story for another day.

On Friday I met with the regional sales director for a fertilizer often used by our farmers, and spoke to him about getting wholesale prices on the fertilizer to sell through our network. Things worked out well, and I think I have found another income generating activity for the network. The director was an Indian who has been in Kenya for many years now. Nearly every successful businessperson I’ve met in Kenya is either an Indian or from the Kikuyu tribe.

There is also a volunteer organisation in Kakamega that brings in volunteers from the States for 2-6 month stints, and I have become friends with many of them. I spent Wednesday at an orphanage one of them is working with hoping to get additional information for my women’s group. While there I learned that the primary caretaker at the orphanage has used the funding to purchase a very nice laptop computer with a pricey ADSL internet connection (an Internet café is very close by), while the children are sleeping 4 to a bed without mosquito nets. Typical.

On Friday evening I met the volunteer group in town. A lot of the group is college-aged, and many seem to be spending the summer working with this organisation as a “Peace Corps Lite”, testing the waters to see if it is something they want to commit to longer-term. Some of them are older and just doing it as a change of pace from their jobs in the states or as a way to spend time in another culture while helping out, and maybe a few of them were looking at it as an escape into the wilderness and are a bit disillusioned. Anyway, we met in town because there’s a great Indian restaurant I wanted to go to, and I wanted them to join me. It is on the outskirts of town, and we saddled up on Boda Bodas and rode out to the restaurant, which of course was closed. We then went back into town for dinner and to my place for a party.

The party was great. There was plenty of Tusker and the volunteers brought all kinds of tasty breakfast stuff for the morning. The next day I was extended an invite to the rainforest with them (after getting about one hour of sleep), and I tagged along with their group. The supervisor of their organisation, Peter, was basically raised by a Peace Corps volunteer. He worked as a house boy for a PCV that decided to stay in Kenya, and because of the influence he gained from the PCV he has committed himself to working with a similar program. Since I am also Peace Corps he likes me and we have been working together on ways to make his program better. I have been supplying him with materials used by the Peace Corps for training, and he even wants me to help find organisations around Kakamega that could use a volunteer. I’m also convincing him to steer away from two month terms to something longer term, as it’s almost impossible to get much accomplished in a mere two months in this country. Anyway, because of my assistance and because, for the most part, I’m a likable guy, my transport to the forest, the nice banda I slept in, the guided tours, and the meals were free.

The rainforest was even better than the last time I went. We had plenty of rain throughout the evening and a layer of mist covered the trees the following morning. We left for a sunrise hike at five and made it to the top of the highest point in the forest just in time to see the sun crest over the hills in the distance. The view was phenomenal, and luckily I had my camera with me and got in a few good snaps. On the way back we went to a cave that was dug in search for gold many years ago. It is now the home of fruit bats, and as my flashlight shined through the cave the walls sparkled with hundreds of pairs of eyes glistening in the darkness. When we made it back to the campsite the monkeys were awake and very active, and we ate breakfast while blue and colobus monkeys swung from tree to tree overhead.

So that about sums of my week. Beyond work good things are coming up, including a camel derby and a potential Scuba diving trip. I’m sure I’ll have plenty more to write about soon.

My two sides

Allow me to complain, I’ll feel much better. Sometimes I get pissed off about the way I’m treated here. Because I’m white I get so much attention. For instance, I hear “How are you?” about a million times a day. Many people feel that order to sound more like a mzungu, this question must be asked through the nose, which makes it twice as irritating. Speaking of mzungu, if I am not being asked how I am, then surely someone is shouting “mzungu mzungu!” at me instead. Usually it’s little kids, and there are about a trillion of them in this country. There seems to be a Kenyan primary school every hundred yards and all it takes is for one child on a school yard to see me off in the distance and shout “mzungu!” before everyone comes running to the fence to shout and gawk. Oftentimes I find myself on my bike right before or after school, which means that I have to ride by miles and miles of children walking down the road, all wearing matching school uniforms. It’s pretty much guaranteed I will be asked how I am about a hundred times as I ride past and kids will point out that, yes indeed, I am still a mzungu. If I respond to the “how are you” question with only answer children understand (I am fine), then one might think that would be the end of it, right? Wrong. Responding results in one of two things…he or she will just ask “how are you?” again as if I didn’t just say I was fine, or all the other kids that would have left me alone start asking “how are you?” as well. Sometimes I just ignore the question and go on my way.

Of course, with kids the whole “how are you” thing really doesn’t bother me that much; being called “mzungu” from a five-year-old isn’t so bad. It’s not that difficult to tune out, and they are just kids after all. What annoys me is when teens and adults yell “mzungu” or ask “how are you” through their nose. They know it is rude and they do it anyway because they think it is funny. Groups of Boda Boda drivers or matatu touts are the worst, acting like idiots because they want to show off to their buddies.

Then there’s the perception that white people have tons of money. I’ll admit that, compared to the average Kenyan, this is generally true. This image isn’t helped by the fact that wazungu drive around in shiny new Land Cruisers and tourists think nothing of handing a hundred shillings to someone on the street. I really don’t think this handout mentality, common in both tourists and by aid organizations, has been very beneficial. On my bike ride around Mt. Elgon with another PCV I had someone ask for one of our bikes, as if one of us would just hand it over and walk the rest of the way.

Concerning money, I can’t help everyone that asks, especially in my village. If I give one person some loose change then I will be hassled for money by half the village next time I go out. I try to remember this but having people yell “give me money!” or making a beeline in my direction to ask for a soda or 10 shillings gets on my nerves. Sometimes I’m not especially nice to people who harass me for money, and I inevitably feel bad later about getting angry with people who in all likelihood are living hand-to-mouth and have nothing. At least in my village and around places where people know me they have stopped asking.

Something to point out: Kenyan Mamas are the nicest people on the planet. I am almost never bothered by them at all. They smile and greet me and it seems genuinely sincere. In fact, if you look at most of the problems here: corruption, rape, drunkenness, laziness, discrimination, etc. it is almost never Mamas that are causing the problems. I think women hold Africa together (probably the rest of the world too) and putting more women into politics would go along way towards fixing the world’s problems.

I have had something really offensive happen several times. There are some Dutch volunteers, two girls, who I was friends with in Kitui. When walking by a group of guys one of them came up and said “give me one”, as if because I am with two women I have a spare that I can just hand out to anyone I please. I ignored the demand and we went on our way. I was with two female volunteers in my village the other day and I had the same thing happen, except he was persistent. This time I explained to the guy that he could not handle mzungu women because they are used to being treated with respect and won’t be pushed around. I also pointed out that in my culture women are not property to be given away. I’m not sure he followed me but he peddled off on his bike and left us alone. What I’m wondering is how a Kenyan would behave if another guy came up to him while he was walking with two women and said “give me one”. I would imagine the guy asking the question would get punched in the face, which seems fair to me. Of course, this would never happen with another Kenyan; since I’m a mzungu the rules don’t apply.

The rules do apply when I’m doing something wrong though. For instance, if I’m in Nairobi and fifty Kenyans are crossing the street when the light is red, and I do it too, someone will be sure to stop me and point out that I shouldn’t cross. Or if I ride my bike down the main road instead of the congested Boda Boda road in town, which is done by Kenyans all the time, people won’t hesitate to shout at me and point out I’m on the wrong road.

In my village there’s a few of the Boda Boda guys who really get on my nerves. I came back from the village some time back with a pineapple, and as I was going through town I saw one of the orphan kids walking by in tattered clothes and no shoes. I decided to give him my pineapple, and for the at least the next month the Boda Boda drivers yelled “give me matunda” (Swahili for fruit) every time I passed by, which was at least twice a day.

About a month ago my puppies were missing, and I found out they followed some visitors off my compound and into the village. I spent a good hour looking for them and began asking people “Umeona mbwa ndogo?” (Have you seen puppies?) Finally I asked somebody who had seen them and we were able to track them down and I carried them back to my house. Now every time I go past the Boda Bodas a few of the guys shout “Mbwa ndogo!” like it’s the funniest thing ever. It really pisses me off but the worst thing you can do is react to it, so I try to let it slide.

So I was in a sour mood today and I went for a run. A Boda Boda guy passed by and shouted “mbwa ndogo!”, to which I responded under my breath with some Good ‘Ol American curse words, then shortly after a group of kids started running after me shouting “mzungu!”. There is always somebody who wants to run with me and as soon as I outran the kids some guy in his late teens decided to run right beside me, shouting something I couldn’t understand in the local tribal language. As I continued to ignore him he laughed at me and I used a few curse words on him as well. I made it back to my house in a worse mood then when I started to run, and realized that I need to change my attitude. I have good days and bad days, and I notice that my good days are when I don’t take things personally or too seriously and maintain a sense of humor. I decided to rest for a few minutes and then do the same run again with a different attitude.

I ran again (albeit at a much slower pace) with a forced smile on my face. When people asked “how are you” I would respond “fine” and wave. I passed a group of boda drivers that I could tell were about to start shouting something at me and before they had a chance I said hello to them in Swahili and kept running. I had some kids start running next to me, and when they tired out I taunted them in Swahili, telling them they were weak and tired and to keep going. They tried and couldn’t keep up any longer, and I heard them laughing behind me like I had made their day. Before I knew it I was in a genuinely good mood.

I wish I could keep that positive attitude all the time but I let myself get worked up when I shouldn’t. Part of the problem is that the longer I am here the more I expect to be treated like a Kenyan. Even though I am definitely treated differently in my village and Kakamega town than I first got here, I am still a mzungu and thus an outsider to most people. I need to realize that it will be that way until I leave and make the best of it, and appreciate the rare Kenyan friends that treat me as an equal.

Cycling, Campus Life, and Visitors

I had a pretty good week. It took awhile, but I finally met a Peace Corps Volunteer who is a cycling fanatic. The good news is that he lives an hour from me, the bad news is that he is leaving (his two years of Peace Corps service ended this weekend). At least I got one good ride in and I'm hopeful that the newest group of volunteers might include someone with similar interests. We started our cycling trip near Webuye, which is only 30 miles north of Kakamega, and rode 50 miles on dirt roads through the isolated villages on the hills surrounding Mt. Elgon on the Ugandan border. The ride was intense. Using my extremely trendy heart rate monitor/GPS I was given as a gift before I left, I could see I burned 4300 calories, and I pigged out on a huge plate of junk food (french fries and somosas) without any guilt. I love cycling.

The ride was beautiful. We were at over 6,000 feet the majority of the ride, and on the equator that makes the daytime temperature about perfect. The "roads" between these towns are perfect for mountain biking and foot traffic but terrible for anything else. On one particular stretch on one of the better roads there were matatus at one time, but they continued to flip over as they attempted to climb the eroded and insanely steep inclines, and thus no longer take that route. As a result the people in the area live in isolation, with at least a ten mile hike by foot to the closest road that is accessible by vehicle. On our entire ride, the only cars we saw while riding through the hills were a few shiny new land rovers driven by wazungu; no surprise there.

So I really wish I had some pictures to post but I'm having trouble with either my rechargeable batteries or the charger, and need to get to Kisumu or another real town that sells decent batteries before I'll be able to take pictures again.

I made it back to the office on Tuesday. This entire week I have been excited about the grant money we are supposed to be getting from the Ministry of Agriculture. Every day we were promised that the money would arrive the next day, and by Friday we realized that if we are getting money at all it will be at least August. (Apparently being approved for the grant and promised money doesn't mean we will actually get a check..this is the Kenyan government after all) We'll see what happens, I'm just rolling with the punches and learning not to be so upset with all the hassles that are part of working in this country.

Speaking of hassles, the wheelchair project continues to be going nowhere, but I will know more in the next few weeks and won't jump to conclusions. There's still a chance things will work out and if not there is a plan B in the works.

On Wednesday I went to Kisumu to learn about an NGO called IIRR that is providing training classes for self-help groups. The training classes seemed relevant to some of the projects I am working with, particularly the business management and monitoring and evaluation classes. Then I found out the price is $1,500 per person for three weeks of training. What kind of non-profit charges that, and in this country?!? $1500 is about 5 years worth of wages for some of the farmers I work with, and I was told the intention is for grant money from other NGO's to cover the costs...whatever.

I also met up with Adrienne and her friend Stella. Stella is a college student at Maseno University, which is about 20 minutes outside Kisumu. After the pointless meeting with IIRR we left to visit her campus, and I had a chance to see what college life is like for the students there. In many ways things are the same as the states...dorm rooms, heavy drinking, and cramming for exams. In others it is quite different. The girls dorms consist of either 4 girls to a room if you are lucky, or eight all crammed into a single room not much bigger than my bedroom. There is a small locker for each girl and enough room for maybe three outfits. The guys have it better in that they have dorms with 2 to a room. I actually slept in one of the guys dorm rooms and stayed up talking politics, sports, and everything else. The students are extremely idealistic and ambitious and I only hope they can maintain their beliefs as they enter the real world and change things for the better here.

That evening we hiked up a hill overlooking the campus, and had a great view of the surrounding countryside and Lake Victoria off in the distance. The hill was a giant boulder field and the landscape was so different than anything I would see back in the states, or even in Kakamega which is just a short drive away. I was told that somewhere in the hills is the home of Mama Pink, who is named after the color of her Chang'aa, illegal distilled liquor that tastes like diesel fuel and is a favorite among the college kids. Her business is best during the second half of the semester when funds run low and beer becomes too expensive.

We also went to a movie that evening. I saw "The Divinci Code" which isn't that good. Reading a book first almost always ruins the movie. The only consolation is that even though the movie theater consisted of a 19" television screen and we were watching a bootlegged movie that was obviously just a camcorder brought to the theater, the price was only 10 shillings so it was hard to complain.

On Thursday I went back to Kakamega to meet up with PCV's Dan and Jean, a retired couple from San Franciso. Dan is a computer genius with several books published and he agreed to come to Kakamega to help me with my database project. He made some tweaks to the code and now I have a really good program for keeping track of what the farmers are growing. Dan and Jean are also good cooks and we ate really well the two days they were here. Another PCV, Tony, was also at my place and we had a great time. Now Tony is on his way back to Kisumu and Dan and Jean went to the rainforest. As for me I think I've typed enough for one day, but expect to hear more soon.

Lawyers and Camels

Things are back to normal after IST and our 4th of July party. On Tuesday I took the night train back to Kisumu and decided I won’t travel via bus ever again if I can help it. The train appears to date back to colonial times and it felt like going back in time to ride on it, but at least the ride was pothole free. Also, unlike the night bus that stops every hour, turns the interior lights on, then fills with hawkers trying to sell ballpoint pens and plastic combs in the middle of the night, I actually got a few hours of sleep.

Nothing else very exciting happened this week, but a lot of things are happening in the near future. On Thursday I went to Bungoma to visit a Lawyer and give her a draft constitution for our company to become a company limited. I am hoping our Network will get some buyers soon for chili peppers and sweet potatoes, and I would like to get some contracts to ensure that if our farmers start growing cash crops there is a guaranteed market and price for what they are growing. Beyond contracts, becoming a company limited also limits our liability in case of legal issues. The intention is to be limited through privately held shares (we’re not on the NASDAQ yet), and it will be interesting to see how well it will all come together. Anyway, I have a meeting with the lawyer again in a week to finalize everything.

Beyond the company limited I have been told we will know for sure where we stand on our grant money from the Ministry of Agriculture next week. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for a check so we can get started on the flour project but we’ll see. It doesn’t appear to be that easy to get project money from the Kenyan Government, so even though it’s been promised I’m not holding my breath.

Now onto the fun stuff: There’s a “Camel Derby” in the Northern Kenyan desert in the first week of August, and I really want to be a part of it. Right now I’m just waiting on security clearance from Peace Corps. It includes a Camel Race (with an amateur class), and a bike/run/camel triathlon, and it’s been put together as a fund raiser by a returned Peace Corps volunteer living in Kenya. Also, there’s a volunteer working with the FAO on the beach in Kilifi, and I’m hoping I can go from the Camel Derby to the coast and spend a week or so soaking up the sunshine and helping a bit with the coast FFS groups. I’m also tossing around the idea of meeting a few other PCV’s near Mombasa to get SCUBA certified or going North to visit a volunteer working near the beautiful Swahili island of Lamu. Peace Corps work is not without its perks.

Cross Sector and Independence Day

Last week was “Cross Sector”, which consisted of two days of language training for the first year volunteers followed by three days of training with everyone discussing what other volunteers in my region are doing with their projects. Language training was a lot of fun and something I’ve been missing out on lately. Henry, a hilarious guy and a great teacher, was one of the language trainers, and he told me he’ll be spending some time in his home town near Kakamega soon and I should be able to get some more language lessons soon.

Something I’ve learned about language: I now feel very comfortable with basic “survival” Swahili and can carry on simple conversations without a problem. However, it seems that the more I learn about a language the more difficult it becomes, and without a teacher I’ve hit a wall with Swahili. There are so many different noun classes that change the structure of the word or sentence in different ways, plus the many assorted prefixes, tenses, infixes, and suffixes that can be placed within a single verb. It really becomes a bit overwhelming. However, here are a few tidbits from my latest language training:

Mwafaka…pronounced phonetically with a soft “aa”, it means “proper” or “correct” and is a lot of fun to say, especially since the accent is placed on the second syllable, e.g. “Unajua Kiswahili Mwafaka?” (Do you speak proper Swahili?)

And here’s a Swahili tongue twister: “Wale watu wa Liwala wala wali wa Liwala wao” (Those people of Liwala eat their rice of Liwala)

So language was fun. Our Cross Sector was in Webuye, which features a very stinky paper mill and an equally smelly water treatment plant. I was skeptical about staying there for a week but the hotel was great. It had a very cold swimming pool (because it’s rainy Kenyan wintertime at a fairly high elevation) but we spent a lot of time in the water regardless. Plus the food was great and I stuffed myself three times a day, so it will be an adjustment going back to site. Also, the World Cup is in full swing right now and even though I would have cared less about it back in the States I’m really into it here. I’ve realized Soccer is a great sport to watch because it goes for 45 straight minutes without timeouts and commercial breaks, plus everyone (outside of the US of course) is completely into it. The bar in our hotel was packed for the Ghana/Brazil game, where unfortunately Ghana was beaten 3-0, much to the disappointment of Kenyans supporting their home continent, but then Brazil unexpectedly lost to France so they got what they deserved and won’t be playing in the semi finals.

For our site visit the Business PCV’s were supposed to visit a village bank, but then the manager of the Bank informed our Coordinator that unless we knew Jesus and proclaimed that we were saved we would not get to see his project. Therefore, at the last minute my site was chosen and I worked with Habakkuk to set up meetings in the field with some of our groups. We had all kinds of great sweet potato products for lunch, plus lots of the usual singing and dancing, and also John Amisi, the guy who is in change of the Moringa tree project, came by for a visit, so all in all things went really well.

Speaking of knowing Jesus, there were signs all over Webuye for “Compel Crusade for Christ” which is an evangelical group preaching at various churches throughout Western Kenya. They turned out to consist of a large number of Southern Baptists from Louisiana who were staying in the same Hotel as the PCV’s. I sometimes wonder exactly how these people are helping, since so many previous missionaries have done such a phenomenal job in changing Kenya to a Christian nation. After living here I’m honestly not sure who is left to convert, and as far as I could tell that was the only reason they are here. Also, why is it that Western Nations have the monopoly on evangelical mission work? In most of the countries missionaries go to the people, in general, have much stronger religious beliefs than the countries that the evangelists are coming from. It seems like Africans and Latin Americans should be going to Europe and the US to evangelize as well, since so many people in developed countries seem to have lost their faith and spirituality. I’m not saying evangelical mission work is bad, there are a lot of missionaries that have done fantastic things, it’s just that so many groups come here to stay in fancy hotels, go on Safari, and briefly venture out into the village just long enough to brag about how many souls they have saved, while not actually doing anything to demonstrate what it means, in my opinion, to be a Christian. Between that kind of mentality and the NGO’s that throw large amounts of handout money around without regard to self-sustainability, it becomes easy to grow skeptical about how effective most aid work really is, but I’ll save going into this any further for another day.

After our Cross Sector we had a fantastic 4th of July party over the weekend of the 1st. It was held at the amazingly nice International school in Nairobi and the roughly 5,000 Americans living in Kenya were invited. There were hamburgers, hot dogs, apple pie, cold beer on tap, a chili cookoff, and tons of great prizes in a raffle. Plus, for the first time ever, a Peace Corps team beat the Marines in Tug of War!! I was on the winning Peace Corps team, which is undoubtedly why we won. I also had a chance to visit with the newest group of volunteers that have arrived in country, and one of them, Jessica, is living with my host family. We had a good time talking about Mama Veronica, Junior, and Jackie. Jessica is enjoying Kitui, but much like me and everyone else who has ever stayed there she is ready to get out. After the party at the International school we had an after party at a bar in Westlands, and all in all is was a fantastic time. I had a chance to plan several collaborative projects with other PCV’s, including meeting up with one of the volunteers on the coast. He is working on an FAO project as well and I plan to schedule a visit to his site in August. Who knows? Maybe after learning a bit about what he’s doing I’ll lay on the beach for a few days or get SCUBA certified.

Jessica, the new Peace Corps volunteer staying at my old host family, told them I would be at the 4th of July party in Nairobi so they called to let me know they would be in town that weekend as well. On Sunday I met with them for lunch and Mama Veronica brought me a shirt she made. Mama Veronica is amazing and it was great to see them again. Now I’m waiting to take my first Kenyan train ride back to Kisumu tonight and then I’m back to Kakamega in the morning. That’s all for now but I’ll write more soon, enjoy the fireworks back home!