I’m about to delve into a topic that is quite sensitive and uncomfortable; one must tread lightly upon it.

It is always the hardest to provide commentary on topics that no one wants to hear about because it is simply easier to ignore.

I’m not standing on a soapbox, demanding attention; I’m writing this as a manifestation of a year’s worth of frustration, guilt, a sense of ineffectiveness and a feeling of despair because change will not occur overnight, if at all.

The gap between the rich and the poor is not a new cause for concern or topic of debate. Since Biblical times, people have faced this moral struggle. Of course, with the advent of the Industrial Revolution, the gap became larger and more obvious as capitalism and materialism permeated society. The “need vs. want” mentality became blurred as people saw hard work as the tool of upward mobility and material possessions as a means of social status/class.

The struggle for wealth is not limited to the West or other developed nations, and certainly the struggle continues with the marginalized communities in these developed nations. But as a witness to a very upwardly mobile middle class in Kenya, the gap between those living in Lavington, Westlands, Karen, Langata, Muthaiga, etc. (posh suburbs of Nairobi) and those living in Kangemi, Kibera, Kawangware, Korogocho, Mathare, etc. (the largest slums in Nairobi with Kibera, topping the list of largest slums in all of sub-Saharan Africa) grows wider and deeper every day.

The disparity between an affluent American and a poor American is less jarring and shocking compared to an affluent Kenyan and a poor Kenyan. An affluent American will live in the suburbs, just as an affluent Kenyan; a poor American will live in the ghettos and a poor Kenyan will live in the slums. Yes, both the rich and the poor have designated areas of a particular town or city, but the poor American is still far better off than a poor Kenyan.

At first glance, sometimes it is hard to tell the difference between rich and poor Americans, especially among the middle-class Americans. Chances are both sets of Americans have access to all of the amenities one needs for a healthy, prosperous life: Clean water, health care, electricity, personal transportation, smartphones, etc. Unfortunately, a first glance of a poor Kenyan is usually pretty obvious: Ragged, dirt-stained, threadbare clothes and worn-out shoes, if any at all. And a first glance of a rich or middle-class Kenyan is where the disparity is obvious and jarring: Intricately coifed hairstyle, high heels, “bling” and a Range Rover or similar luxury vehicle.

I’ve seen more Range Rovers here than anywhere in the US, despite what the celebrities, athletes, cast of “Jersey Shore” and the various “Real Housewives” display. I’ve also seen more people walk without shoes and go hungry than anywhere in the US. I realize that life in many places is very polarizing, the haves flashing what they have and the have-nots longing for what they do not have, but the effects of a materialistic society are exacerbated in marginalized areas, such as parts of Kenya and specifically, Nairobi.

Perhaps I’m more aware of the disparity because I am in an unusual position here: I am a minority. Yes, I am white and yes, there are white Kenyans and other ex-pats, but unlike the white Kenyans and ex-pats, I do not live in a mansion or ostentatious flat; I do not drive or own a car and am not on a high-paying salary. I am a volunteer, living simply in a foreign land. Yet I am perceived as affluent at first glance because of the color of my skin.

I realize that people must be desperate enough and sometimes, courageous, to ask a complete stranger for money. But what is off-putting about the tactics among some in Nairobi is that they almost expect an mzungu (white person) to hand over a couple hundred shillings. I have had several instances (and one involved the same man over the course of a few weeks) run from across the road over to me and ask me for money. To that I respond with, why did you seek me out when there are lots of others walking around? Is it simply because of my skin color, you see me as an ATM?

I cannot dole out a few shillings here and there because that perpetuates stereotype of “the white savior” abroad and frankly, we as members of developed nations should not condone these hand-outs. I see great strides being made by a new approach to aid and emergency relief/funds to developing nations: Work alongside, not above nor in front of, local NGOs in establishing sustainable projects to benefit marginalized groups.

Yet it breaks my heart and makes me question my own morals when I have to refuse to give 10 shillings to a chokora (Swahili for “street kid”) because I cannot continue to be seen as THE answer to eradicating poverty. Sure, 10 shillings is not a financial loss for me, but it usually is not a financial gain for the chokora either; if they were sent out by their parent to beg, that perpetuates a vicious cycle of lack of education, which will keep them in poverty. But if this chokora is abandoned or orphaned and is begging to survive, how do I know if he/she will use the 10 bob to buy food or to buy glue, to sniff and get high?

In most instances, both here and in the US, when I’m approached by a panhandler, beggar, chokora, whatever, I go for this approach: If you are truly hungry, take this banana or I will buy you a banana. Is this any better than refusing to hand out cash? I think so. Does it still make me question how society takes care (or lack thereof) of its most downtrodden? Yes, absolutely. But I figure food, something which all humans need, is a better alternative than giving out money, which could be used for unsavory purposes.

The conscience and moral struggle is a daily battle not only in Nairobi but all around the world. I already dread my first encounter with poverty in the US, one of the greatest countries in the world, yet there are millions struggling to survive; according to a story in the New York Times that ran on 13 September 2011 (http://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/14/us/14census.html?pagewanted=all), 46.2 Americans are living below the official poverty line.

When I return to the US in three weeks, I will be inundated with advertisements for the latest iPhone or the newest fashions this fall or a new line of luxury vehicles. Even as I am typing this, I feel a sense of guilt because I need (or is it want? It is hard to determine sometimes) a new computer since mine is over five years old and on its last legs. How can I justify purchasing a new computer when the one I have works well, despite the fact that the battery is shot and is now a functioning desktop laptop.

But does this sense of guilt and frustration bar me from being an American consumer again? It shouldn’t, but it comes with a heavy heart. Not only will I feel buyer’s remorse (of which I am a chronic sufferer even before my year here) and shame for indulging in a luxury because of my shift in perceptions from life here in Kenya but also because I know that there are millions of Americans, Americans!, who cannot afford many of life’s basic necessities. And here I am, due for not only a computer upgrade but a cell phone upgrade, and I feel sick about it.

How do I transition back into the consumer-driven American lifestyle? How do I justify my spending after the year I’ve had? I certainly do not know the answers, but I suppose that is one of the many purposes for the forthcoming YAV Re-Entry & Transition retreat in New Mexico this September. As my time in Kenya comes to a close, I will try to focus on living my life as normally as possible and enjoying my remaining time. A hard task, for sure, but one that I accept the challenge gladly.

“There’s no hurry in Africa!”

This popular phrase in Africa has come to define much of my time here.

In the US, we are trained from a young age to be on time, always. Actually, I remember fondly how I’ve been trained to be perpetually 15 minutes early, thanks to Douglas Freeman’s athletics program where we were told to be at practice at “Rebel Time.”

Thinking back on my first encounters with time management in Kenya (and Africa as a whole), one word comes to mind: frustration. I had been warned about different concepts of time, but as an American, some habits die hard. Luckily for me, I’ve embraced the pole pole (slowly, slowly), hakuna matata lifestyle here.

We joke about running on African time, a time that is eternally 20 minutes slow. I’ve invoked that excuse when running late, especially when meeting up with fellow Americans. My Kenyan friends chide me on my promptness yet they sometimes call out others for running on African time.

It is hard to believe that a year has gone by and now I only have two weeks until I’m back in the US, back in Richmond, back in my twin bed. (A quick aside—how ironic is it that I had to come all the way around the world to Kenya to sleep in a bed larger than a twin? I’ve slept in a twin since third grade!)

I have certainly enjoyed every minute of my time here, even when I hated it. Ernest Hemingway once said, “I never knew of a morning in Africa when I woke up that I was not happy.” Hemingway has always been a favorite author of mine, but this quote speaks to me. I wholeheartedly agree. Even on days when I was disappointed or angry or sad, I always woke up happy to be here. I knew I was meant to be here.

Now that I only have 13 mornings to wake up in Africa, what do I do? Do I stay at Pride Rock (the moniker we created for our flat) and have “woe is me” feelings all day? Most definitely not. But do I have the time and/or funds to accomplish everything in the “Lonely Planet” guidebook of Kenya? Yes and no.

I have been fortunate enough to have resident status with a work permit/visa, which allows me entry into many Kenyan venues at a reduced rate; I paid 1,000 Kenya shillings for three days in the Masai Mara National Reserve when the non-resident rate is close to $40 US per day. Quite a perk of being a volunteer abroad, and I have enjoyed every time I whip out my passport to say, “I’m a resident.”

But since I still have projects at work to complete, I simply cannot tackle the ever-expanding Nairobi Bucket List during the week.

I do know that these next two weeks will be filled with lots of energy. Everything from curio shopping for some lucky friends and family to seeing the oldest, completely in-tact remains of homo erectus a.k.a. the “Turkana boy” at the National Museum; from taking tea at the Thorn Tree Café at the historic Stanley Hotel and enjoying a G&T from yet another historic hotel, the Norfolk-Fairmont; from going on a game drive in Nairobi National Park to photo safari, my days will be booked solid.

 “There’s no hurry in Africa!” Until you’ve got less than two weeks to accomplish everything on your bucket list. Get ready, Nairobi. This mzungu is going to be out and about, enjoying your hustle and bustle, honoring your legacy and contributing to your economy.

Nairobi tourist outings.

Now we had a wolfpack. Four wazungu bibis (white girls), ready to check out some tourist sites in Nairobi.

We started Saturday with a trip to the David Sheldrick Elephant Orphanage, which is next to Nairobi National Park. Sheldrick and his wife, Dame Daphne, helped develop several techniques for rehabilitating and releasing orphaned animals back into the wild.

The elephant orphange has been featured in several BBC documentaries, the Discovery Channel, various magazines and newspapers. Each orphaned elephant has a caretaker, who is with the animal 24/7. The caretakers sleep on a bunk in the stall with the elephants. Elephant babies are very susceptible to illness when they are separated from their herd. They are very helpless, just like human babies. It was so sweet to see the elephants parade into a playground of sorts as the caretakers gave their presentation. They were playing in the mud and dust, feeding themselves with bottles (really cute, see photos).

After we had a cuteness overload, we went to the Kazuri bead factory and shop. “Kazuri” means “small and beautiful” in Swahili. It is a fair-trade shop where they only employ single mothers and there is a wait list to work there. The women make clay beads and glaze them. It was great to see the women at work, genuinely happy, making beautiful beads. I was proud of these women. All too often in Kenya, women are treated unfairly in the workplace, home life, etc. But organizations like Kazuri promote a fair, safe work environment to empower women.

We concluded our tour of Karen (posh suburb of Nairobi, named for Karen Blixen of “Out of Africa” fame) with a stop by the African Endangered Wildelife Fund Giraffe Centre. I had been here once before with the YAVs and Ben during the Christmas holidays, but Erica and Sallie certainly had a fun time feeding, petting and “kissing” the giraffes.

We were quite famished and needed something to quench our thirst, so Tricia and I took Sallie and Erica to Brew Bistro, one of our favorite bars. The micro-brewery is great and it’s a fun, relaxed place to indulge in good food and beer. After happy hour, we headed back to our flat to change and go out dancing. We like to go to Gypsy’s, Nairobi’s only and unofficially gay-friendly bar. There is always great dance music there!

The next day we headed back out to Karen to visit the Karen Blixen museum, located in one of her former homes on her coffee farm. The guide explained very thoroughly all about Karen Blixen’s life as well as the history of “Out of Africa,” both the movie and the book. The Karen Blixen museum wasn’t a museum until after filming had finished.

After we toured, we headed to the Bomas of Kenya, a cultural fair grounds of sorts, where a company of dancers perform various dances from the tribes of Kenya. Since there are over 42 tribes in Kenya, the dancers choose a selection to perform each day, but some popular mainstays are dances from the Kikuyu, Luo, Luhya, Maasai, Somali, Kamba and Turkana.

The dance show at Bomas of Kenya always features a troupe of acrobats and fire-breathers, which is certainly a highlight of the show. These crazy guys flip, tumble, jump and play with fire. I’ve seen the performance three times now, and I am still always amazed at their sheer physicality and pyromaniac tendencies.

As one can imagine, after a busy afternoon of touring and watching dancing, we were feeling quite hungry. Enter The Carnivore, a tourist trap known round the world. At Carnivore, most people opt for the set menu consisting of grilled meats from all sorts of furry, feathered and finned friends of the animal kingdom. Game meats, such as impala, ostrich and crocodile, are favorites.

Tricia and I decided to pull a prank on our tourist visitors. We said we couldn’t wait to see the lions that are brought out at Carnivore. We kept the ruse throughout dinner. While Erica went to the bathroom, we couldn’t hold our laughter any longer and told Sallie about the joke. She completely fell for it as well, but also helped us try to get Erica to ask the waiter about the lack of lions. Sure enough, Erica asked the waiter, who seemed quite confused, and then it was beyond painful to hold in our laughter. It was great to get Erica on a prank after she had spent so much time throwing jabs at me (much to Tricia’s delight). Indeed, it was a fun night by all.

The next day we went to the Animal Orphanage at the Nairobi National Park with the prospect of petting some purring cheetahs. However, when we arrived, after Hudson discreetly inquired, we were told that visitors are no longer allowed to pet the cheetahs because they [cheetahs] have fallen ill because of human contact. We toured any way and saw a variety of animals, including a zebra/donkey named Zedonk. Since livestock and animals from the savanna, like zebras, often live in close quarters, cross-breeding can occur.

After an almost attack from a baboon outside of the gates (quite possibly the fiercest animal in Kenya in my opinion), we headed over to Dagoretti Corner for lunch at Mama Oliech’s fish place (mother to Kenyan football star, Dennis Oliech), which is near where Tricia and Fiona work. They met us for lunch and every time I go here, I feel more and more Kenyan. It is certainly not a place that Lonely Planet would recommend (however, they’re missing out). It is a very humble establishment, a “locals only” kind of vibe. Here, we’re served whole fish that come in different priced sizes (a 200 Kenyan shilling fish is definitely enough for a person to have a filling lunch). Along with fish, people opt for ugali or chapatti and the various fixings like kachumbari (a Kenyan kind of salsa/tomato & onion salad) and sukuma wiki (salty, stewed kales). As we were enjoying our fish, we began to hear frantic chatter and mobile phones going off. We found out that there had just been a bombing in city centre, along Moi Avenue. This was certainly ominous and I am very thankful we were far from city centre. Around 30 people were injured and a few died. Reports say al-Shabaab, the Somalia-based cell of al-Qaeda, is to blame for the bombing. 

Erica, Sallie and I were supposed to go into city centre later that afternoon for some curio shopping and dressmaking, as well as going to the top of the Kenyatta International Conference Centre for a stunning 360-degree view of Nairobi. Needless to say, we nixed that plan. It was also the same day Erica was flying home, so we had to leave Westlands a full five hours before her flight would leave, to deal with the traffic coming from city centre. After a grueling one and a half hours of traffic, we dropped her off and she was on her way home.

With one visitor leaving and one newly arrived, I was certainly busy playing hostess for about six weeks. I am truly thankful and happy that I was able to host two best friends and sisters.

Now it’s time to talk about Sallie’s safari in Kenya, albeit a bit more laid-back than Erica’s. Not that it’s necessarily a bad thing, as we say in Kenya, we were taking itpole pole.

April was one of the rainiest months I have ever experienced. Every afternoon like clockwork, round 4 p.m., the heavens would open up. I had to plan every move outside around the imminent threat of rain.

Luckily for me, the rains abated right around the beginning of May, when we went to Zanzibar for the YAV retreat. And an even better reason for the rains to dissipate in early May was that Erica, my younger sister, was coming to visit for almost a month!

Erica landed in Nairobi town on Friday May 11 and we were on the go for the next three weeks. I arranged for a visit to Wangu Primary School, a CWS-affiliated school in the Dandora slum of Nairobi. Erica and I had a great time with some of the children, singing and teaching songs. I’m glad Erica suggested that activity instead of coloring because there were over 100 kids in the class! We sang “Old MacDonald” and “I’m a Little Tea Pot” and as a fun ending, “Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes,” both the English and Swahili versions.

The next day we were off to Tanzania to link up with Simba Safaris for our four-day Tanzanian safari. Stephen, our driver-guide from Simba Safaris, picked us in Arusha and we were on our way to the Ngorogoro Crater Conservation Area. As we drove up and onto the crater rim, it became colder and colder. The foggy, low-lying clouds obstructed our view but we were able to see a fellow Simba Safari LandCruiser stopped on the side. It was certainly a good sign as we embarked on our safari—we were within feet of a huge male lion! It was very unexpected but awesome nonetheless. We were quite tired from traveling all day and we needed a good night’s rest before a busy day of game watching the next day. We enjoyed a delicious dinner and snuggled down (it was very cold!) and before we knew it, it was breakfast time and we were both eager for the day ahead.

We started down into the crater floor, a very chilly and cloudy morning. The clouds were ominous but we had faith that the rains would not interfere with our game viewing. The crater hosts a dense population of all types of wildlife: Buffalo, elephants, hippos, lions, hyenas, black rhinos, warthogs, jackals, baboons, flamingos, leopards (although we didn’t see any here, they’re too elusive!), and of course, zebras and wildebeest. Wildebeest and zebra make up the “Great Migration” and it begins in the crater, then they migrate through the Serengeti finally making it to the Masai Mara in Kenya.

Within 15 minutes of descending to the crater floor, we saw hundreds of buffalo and a large herd of elephants. Just a few minutes later, we spotted a lot of LandCruisers, so we knew at least the “mzungu migration” was in full force. As we pulled up to investigate, sure enough, there was something to see: Several lions were snoozing in the middle of the road. We clicked away and then proceeded through the crater, seeing hyenas, beautiful birds, hippos, zebras, wildebeest and a black rhino waaaay in the distance. We were about to round out our crater game drive when we stumbled upon two elephants very close to the road, foraging in some trees. I had to change lenses since my zoom was too much for the close encounter.

We ate lunch at the top of the crater rim before making the drive to the Serengeti. As we drove out of the crater and to the Serengeti, we passed many Maasai herding cattle, goats and sheep, alongside the grazing zebra and wildebeest. It was quite surreal.

We arrived in the Serengeti mid-afternoon and were on the hunt for close encounters with the Big 5 in one of the most famous places in the natural world. Right from the start we saw the sheer magnitude of the “Great Migration”—the zebras and wildebeest blended together on the horizon so much that it looked as if someone had drawn a thick, black line with a Sharpie.

The size of the Serengeti is daunting: Serengeti comes from the Masai language, Maa, wherein the word “serengit” means “endless plains.” It is certainly true, the land rolls on for miles. It was a warm afternoon, so I was having a tough time keeping my eyes open as we bounced along the main road in the park.

Then, all of a sudden, Stephen veered off onto a path and we rounded a giant, grassy hill to find two lionesses. Lions like to lounge on elevated surfaces so they are able to see prey off in the distance. We continued our trek into the Serengeti and came close to a small elephant family, complete with very young calves. Elephants and lions are two very social animals, so it is always fun to stop and watch them.

We were cruising around, on the hunt for the leopard, when I heard some very excited Swahili over the radio. Stephen then changed directions and started driving a bit faster than normal; I knew we were about to find something extraordinary. In the distance, I saw several LandCruisers stopped by a tree. My heart leapt: A leopard must be near.

Imagine our surprise when we spotted not one but TWO leopards, in the mid-afternoon. Leopards are usually most active at night, so that makes finding them active extremely difficult. One was in a tree and the other was across the road, hiding in some tall grass. Cue trigger-happiness via camera. This was the last of the Big 5 I hadn’t seen in the wild and I was determined to photograph these magnificent creatures from every angle possible. We must have spent at least 30 minutes watching them (Erica can tell you she began to feel restless). I could have watched them all day. They were very active, always switching places, climbing up the tree and down. Toward the end of our viewing session, one of the leopards climbed higher and higher in the acacia tree because a small herd of elephants was passing through. The elephants, oblivious to the leopard in the tree, began munching around the trunk and one elephant even felt the need to scratch his but against the very tree where a scared leopard was hiding. Life in the animal kingdom never disappoints!

To make room for the other LandCruisers, we headed out and found giraffes drinking from a small waterhole nearby a light aircraft runway. It was getting dark so we headed onto our lodging for the night, ready for a night of rest before another busy day. We woke up to a gorgeous Serengeti sunrise and Vervet monkeys on our porch!

We started the day with a mission: Find rhinos. Stephen was very determined in this endeavor and we ventured into new parts of the Serengeti known for a rhino or two. We weren’t so lucky this outing, as we saw no rhinos, however we did get to see the Maasai rock paintings, which was pretty interesting. We were en route out of the Serengeti to Lake Manyara when we found a small pride of lions resting on a rock outcrop. It was Pride Rock (sorry, had to make a “Lion King” reference at least once in this post!) so to speak; we were able to get so close to one of the lionesses that we were able to see a tracking collar on her.

We also stopped by two cultural visits: One was to a Maasai village and the other was to the Olduvai Gorge, home to some of the first hominid prints and fossils. The Maasai village was fun and we were able to see that the profits from our entry fee were going to community projects, such as school fees, water access points and teaching children too young to go to primary school. I admit, I was a bit skeptical because it seems very much like a tourist trap, but Stephen reassured us and said that he too is skeptical of some of the money handling in some Maasai villages. However, he knew this village very well and we agreed that it would be a memorable moment.

After the village, we went to the Olduvai Gorge. It is actually the Oldupai Gorge, but some researchers misspelled the translation and it is commonly known as Olduvai. Oldupai means sisal plant in Maa. Oldupai is also referred to as “The Cradel of Mankind” since fossils of homo habilis, homo erectus and homo sapiens have been found in the area. It was made famous in the 1930s and 1940s through the work of Louis and Mary Leakey, famous archeologists. Former First Lady and now Secretary of State Hillary Clinton and Chelsea Clinton visited Oldupai in the 1990s on behalf of Bill Clinton. Oldupai is not only a mecca for archeologists, but also for geologists. The rock formations are unique and feature a large monolith that helps show the various layers of rock and sediment. We certainly learned a lot about culture and the evolution of humans on safari!

We headed out back through the Ngorogoro Crater Conservation Area to get to Lake Manyara, a Great Rift Valley soda lake. We stopped for some curio shopping along the way; I knew we were in a very cha-ching curio shop when they were quoting prices in US$. We came away with a few purchases, including a cool painting for Erica of a Maasai homestead at night. We reached the lodge for the night and enjoyed a last night of fine dining in Tanzania. Erica and I enjoyed sundowner cocktails as we watched the stars come out. You haven’t been stargazing until you’ve done it in the African wilderness. Away from the hustle and bustle of Nairobi, I was able to see hundreds, albeit thousands, of stars. Erica and I rested up for another early, busy and adventurous day.

Lake Manyara was a fun, quick game drive. The terrain was much different, more forested, which led to seeing several different kinds of monkeys, including Vervets, Colobus and Blue monkeys. The highlight of Lake Manyara was when Erica spotted a teeny, tiny baby elephant. Oh my, was it so small and precious! We then saw a huge familial herd of elephants, must have been over 60! We didn’t see any predators in the park, but we enjoyed the elephants a lot. After a quick morning game drive, we were on the road back to Arusha where Erica and I said goodbye to Stephen and took the shuttle back to Nairobi.

So ends our Tanzanian safari adventure. But there is still much more to cover, including a healthy overdose of adrenaline.