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More Vacations

Sometimes I think about the way I portray my Peace Corps experience on this blog, and I worry that especially recently, it looks like I do nothing but take vacations.

In any case, I semi-recently had a visit from my dad and stepmom, in which we quite possibly saw every single individual animal in Kenya over the course of four different safaris.  It was a wonderful time.  I of course love staying in hotels, which have modern amenities like running water, sit toilets, showers, and other things that have to do with water, but on top of that I was happy to have them come and witness this place firsthand, even the parts that involved long, bumpy bus rides.  Without any further ado, here are some pictures of animals.

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And here are some pictures with people (I am not related to the guy with a chicken leg in his mouth):

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Not long after my dad and stepmom left, my girlfriend came for her fourth and final time to Kenya. Again, wonderful.  We traveled to Zanzibar and Ethiopia.  Here are some pictures from Ethiopia, where we went to a fun New Year’s Eve event (they use a different calendar, so their thirteenth an final month ends in September):

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ErinRose had helped me in the classroom many times, and the students were sad to see her go (and I believe the feeling was mutual).  The time she spent in the library with portions of my vocational class allowed me to focus on a smaller number of students, so I am grateful as well.  Thanks, ErinRose!

Not long after getting back into my routine (without any guests), I missed a week of school to go to my Close of Service (COS) Conference.  This is when Peace Corps lays out the details of how and when I go home to America.  I generally don’t comment on Peace Corps trainings because I get upset and frustrated, so I’ll maintain that policy here. In any case, it looks like the date of my return will probably be December 17, so I’ll be home for Christmas (again, PROBABLY).

In addition to the conference during the day, the volunteers who are in my group (meaning the ones who will go home around the same time I do) had lots of leisure time in the evenings, and we had productive gatherings like this one:

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It’s worth noting that only 24 of our original group remain.  I think we started with 41 or 42 or something.  This is much higher than the usual attrition rate.  We definitely lost some good ones on the way.  If any of you are reading this, just know that you were missed at the conference and that we’ll all be back in the states soon so we can spend time reminiscing!

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Mombasa

Scary Stories to Tell in Mombasa

This story is the reason that I had originally decided to hold off on updating my blog for a while.  There were a few people who I wanted to tell the story to personally first, so they wouldn’t read about it and get worried.  It’s actually a pretty short story, and it goes like this:

A few months ago a friend and I were riding in a matatu.  We had gone out a late dinner because we were in the library with my students until their bedtime (9PM).  Dinner was good, and we were on our way back.  We got off the matatu at its normal stop closest to my house, at the intersection of my school’s street and the nearby main road.  Within a matter a seconds of our matatu driving away, I noticed that a man was walking toward me.  His body language suggested that he was adamant about something, but he said nothing, and did nothing initially but grab my arm.  Arm-grabbing is much more common here, generally speaking, so it was easy to imagine that this could have been a drunk or crazy man who could just be ignored.  It became clear rather quickly, however, that this was not the case, and the man was refusing to let go of me, and was in fact pulling me off of the sidewalk and into the road, and, in fact, toward the back of a truck.  I looked over at my friend, and another man was pulling him toward the truck as well.  At this point, my struggling became more spastic and I shouted things like “What are you doing?” and “This is not OK!”  It was also around this time that I saw a police officer on the sidewalk, watching.  Of course I only had a moment to process this, and by this point the struggle was fully in the middle of the road, and due to some turn of events, I found myself free of my abductor.  I ran over to my friend, who was a this point missing his shirt, which had been pulled off by the man who was still dragging him toward the truck.  I sloppily threw the weight of my arms onto his, so that the two people separated and my friend fell onto the asphalt.  He got up and wisely announced, “Paul, RUN!”  So I took off the one sandal I still had on my feet and we ran back to my school, about a minute away.

The end.

Not exactly, of course.  There was some followup with Peace Corps and the police, and the most likely explanation for the whole thing was that the police hire goons to hang off the backs of trucks and capture people without warning or explanation, and then take them to jail to demand bribes, which is reassuring, since kidnappings have occurred in Kenya’s capital, but the explanation is only somewhat reassuring, since it changes my opinion of my neighborhood police from incompetent to malicious.

I did let this event bother me for some time, and I still fear that I might punch someone who grabs me in town, even if they just want to sell me some trousers.  That being said, at the time of this writing, it’s just a story long past, and it doesn’t really affect my day-to-day except that I favor door-to-door transportation after the sun goes down.

The good news is that the morning after this happened, we went back to the scene of the crime and I recovered my sandal and my friend got his shirt back as well.  So nothing was lost, and knowledge was gained… a win-win!

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The Unbloggable: My International Vacation

Well, I’m back, but I’ve been slow in posting because so much happened on vacation that I was overwhelmed by the idea of writing about it.  Now that a little time has passed, though, I feel more comfortable skipping a lot of the details, so it’s a bit easier.  So here we go!

The vacation started with a trip through Nairobi to the Kakamega Rain Forest:

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A flower in the forest just after the rain.  “Good morning, morning glory!” as some would say.

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Playing cards after our hike (and drying clothes by the fireplace):

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From Kakamega we headed across the border to Uganda, which is basically like Kenya except with more BBQ’d meat, to the town of Jinja where we slept along the Nile River.  Here’s a view of the sunset as seen from where I was eating a pizza.

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Of course we didn’t go to the Nile just to eat pizza… a bunch of us went rafting the next day, and a few of us even stayed along the river and continued rafting for the day after that as well!  Here’s a clip from the DVD we bought of our adventure.  It looks like a generic promotional video, but I am in fact in quite a few of the clips.  In my raft I sat in the front row… try to find me!


From Jinja we headed to the capital of Uganda, Kampala:

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And from there we went to small lake where we stayed a couple nights on a picturesque island.  I hiked to the other side of it and took this picture looking back at the hostel:

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From there we headed to Rwanda and the capital city of Kigali.  Rwanda is quite different from the other countries on the trip because it was not a British colony; it was Belgian.  As a result, the language is French, the food is better, and the vibe is just generally different.  Kigali’s downtown is in the background here, and in the foreground is the entrance to the Kigali Genocide museum:

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Outside of Rwanda, most people know little of the country other than its genocide.  I was no exception, and in addition to the Kigali Genocide museum, we also headed out of town to the site of a church where, during the genocide, 10,000 people stood in cramped quarters hoping that the church or the priest would help them.  The priest ratted them out and they were all killed over the course of a few days, and although a site has been set up behind the church for the bodies, the curators have left all the clothes in the church itself, and they also left behind everything else like the shrapnel holes in the roof and the blood on the altar.


In the back they have graves for the bodies what could be identified, but for everyone else they just had the bones on shelves:

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Something like this is difficult to write about, and I think I’ll favor brevity here on my blog.  I think the hard part is that, as a student of the West, I thought my understanding of the Holocaust would help me grasp a situation like Rwanda’s, but I had a hard time applying what I knew about human psychology to this tragedy.  About 10% of the country’s population was killed in a short span of time, but it wasn’t the case that brainwashed military goons were given orders after they’ve already been in the army for a while; rather, a small militia was able with some pathetic propaganda to mobilize much of the general public to not just rat out their neighbors, but to outright kill them with machetes.  It’s hard to come to terms with such a thing, and it hung heavily on my mind as I enjoyed this otherwise pleasant country.

Well, in any case, our group of four travelers split up while we were in Rwanda.  Two people flew back to Kenya, but I and one other continued on.  We headed to Tanzania and crossed over this waterfall at the border:

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The main thing we did in Tanzania was to take the biggest remaining ferry that is still running across Lake Victoria.  It’s an overnight from the town of Bukoba to the bigger city of Mwanza.  Getting to Bukoba from the Rusumo Falls was a hassle, mostly because we were at the whim of people to help us figure out transportation, and those people were liars and cheats.  We made it, though.

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From Mwanza we decided we were done with Tanzania, so we headed up to Kenya, specifically toward Mfangano Island, where supposedly they have some ancient cave paintings.  From the small motor boat that goes to Mfangano I took this picture of the neighboring boat, “The Unbwogable,” which was the inspiration for the title of this blog post.

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On the island we were discovered by a gang of small children who followed us everywhere.  I would pick them up by the arms and swing them around a bit as we’d walk, which was good fun, until one of them slipped, fell, and cried ceaselessly, making me worried that the islanders were going to think I was trying to kill all their children.  My friend (pictured below) ended up getting sick on the island (which had a ton of Tsetse Flies, although that’s not what made him sick), and that combined with the general hostility I encountered was enough motivation for us to head back to the mainland the next morning.

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From the mainland we hitched a ride on the Zain-marketing-mobile to a small ferry that crossed the lake (yet again) where we met a bus that took us to Kisumu, which is the third-largest city in Kenya behind Mombasa, my home here.  In Kisumu my friend stayed in the hospital while I stayed in a nearby hotel.  Here’s a view from my room with Lake Victoria in the background.  Not so glamorous:

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The next day I enjoyed a premium lunch at the nearby sailing club, where I overheard an Indian lady complain about the number of non-members (which was a reference to me I think,but hey, I paid the daily membership rate, so buzz off!):

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After lunch I walked over to an animal park of some sort.  It was pleasant, although not generally noteworthy other than this beautiful lakeside walk along some old railroad tracks:

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One of the animals in the park was this bee:

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From Kisumu I took the train back to Nairobi.  Here by the Kisumu train station waiting room is the kind of sign that reminds me that I’m not in America:

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The train is much like the Mombasa-Nairobi train.  I think there were fewer passenger cars, and fewer options in the dining car,  but otherwise it’s pretty similar.  The train even goes through similar-looking slums just outside Nairobi.


In Nairobi, I found Dr. Pepper in stock at the health food store (“Doctor” – remember?) so I bought one and brought it to a nearby sushi restaurant, where they refrigerated it and served it with my sushi boat.  Talk about a hard life!

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I then had a few days of official Peace Corps business in Nairobi, and then I took the bus back to Mombasa.  Whew!