Bouncing into Brisbane

And so the second leg of my trip has begun! First impressions. Oz is awesome.

Bounced into Brisbane on Wednesday with the worst jetlag imaginable – to say I was zombie-fied would be an understatment. In the first 24 hours I managed to lock myself out of my room twice and when I was told we were having meat pie for dinner I went around saying ’oooo meat pie Monday my favourite!’ and didn’t realise for hours that it was actually Wednesday…

Anyhow – my first port of call was a great little hostel called the Kookuburra Inn. I would definitely recommend it to anyone as although it’s not the liveliest place in Brisbane the couple that run it are so so sweet and did everything they could to help my intro to Oz go smoothly.

One of things they did help me do was organise a trip to Fraser Island – If you visit this end of Oz you simple have to get over there. I headed out with a tour group of 9 and we bounced around the island in a four wheel drive for two days visiting lakes and beaches and rainforests which looked like they’d stepped right out of the setting for lord of the rings or something.

That said, Brisbane itself is really a beautiful city – I can already see why so many people want to emigrate here!

Yesterday, having a day to kill before heading down south I took myself up to Lone Pine – a koala sanctuary about a 30 bus ride out of Brisbane. It was the cutest place imaginable – I go to cuddle koala’s, feed kangeroos and avoid emus (I just think they look evil – no way I’m petting one of those….).

My time in Brisbane unfortunately went all too quickly though and so last night I jumped on a greyhound bus down to Tamworth where I’m about to go and play cowgirl.

Tomorrow morning I’m being picked up and taken out to a ranch in the outback – I’ll be shearing sheep, mustering cattle and cracking whips in no time (hopefully!). With no internet connection or phone signal it’ll be more than a little strange though, I’ve never been that cut off from the world and I think I’m already getting withdrawal symptoms!

I should probably confess that being a cowgirl has been a lifelong dream… ever see Thelma and Louise? You remember that scene with Brad Pitt? Well let’s just say it’s a good job I’m not single because that was easily the catalyst for my entire sexual awakening… think I might just have to bring back one of those cowboy hates for the boyfriend….

TIA

In the chaos and excitement of the last few weeks I seem to have lost track of time because all of a sudden I’ve found myself in the departure lounge at Nairobi airport waiting for my flight back to the UK. 6 weeks – gone just like that. But my god, what a six weeks it’s been!

Ups, downs… it’s all been absolutely amazing and I honestly don’t think I would change a thing because every experience both good and bad has made this trip the most memorable of my life. (so far – I still have Oz and South East Asia ahead of me of course!).

I guess given this is the end of the African adventure I should make some kind of summary or something. Well, my last few days were fantastic. I had a little farewell party at the orphanage on my last evening complete with games for the kids and their favorite dinner; pilau. (a rice dish with tomatoes beef and onions – possibly my favorite Kenyan dish too).

A couple of the other volunteers chipped in as well so we really pushed the boat out and even had little fairy cakes with candles for afters. The kids kept singing ’happy birthday to Sara’ despite my protests which I found really cute. Trying to get them to get the gist of the game ’musical statues’ was even cuter; I think they thought I had lost the plot when I kept freezing in odd positions when the music stopped. Eventually they got the idea though. One of the youngest, Ndungu, decided after a few unsuccessful rounds the best way to win would be to adopt a poker straight soldier stance while staring up with huge bug eyes trying not to blink; absolutely adorable!

Unsurprisingly it was pretty heart wrenching saying good bye. I’ve come so attached to each and everyone of the children it seems very hard to think I won’t be seeing them for a long long time now. Leaving school was also awful. The teachers made me a full Kenyan outfit with linen trousers, a kaftan, head wrap and kanga – it was awesome but made me want to cry like a baby!

Still, my time has been amazing and I do feel ready to move onto the next adventure. Mombasa, particularly Likoni where I was working, is a very intense place and the mix of emotions really does take it out of you.

I love that I had to opportunity to live with the locals and work alongside some of the most inspirational people I have ever met and I still hold the view that it is a place of extremes; it is both beautiful and obscene, inspiring and heart wrenching, rich but so so poor. That’s what makes it Mombasa though and that’s probably what will keep me coming back here for many many years to come.

In conclusion then; poley poley – TIA.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fake tan anyone?

Last weekend I found another reason to love Kenya; safari!

It’s funny though because while most typical tourists come to Kenya for safari for us volunteers it was a bit of an after-thought. Something we all wanted to do but had to be um-ed and ah-ed about because of the cost. When we did finally commit to a three day journey to Tsavo East and Abeseli national park it was a huge treat and ended up being absolute luxury compared to the life we have come to know here.

It also made me see that there is another side to Kenya though which I have unknowingly avoided until now, that is, the tourist side. For the first time since arriving here I actually felt like a tourist myself which in all honesty I didn’t really like. Don’t get me wrong, the safari was easily one of the coolest things I have ever done in my life. I saw lions and elephant and giraffes (oh my!) zebra and cheetahs and buffalo. I got to wake up at the foot of mount Kilimanjaro with monkeys playing at the entrance to my tent and I visited a Masai village where we were welcome with traditional dances and blessed by witch doctors. It was by all accounts a mind blowingly good trip.

At the same time though there was this strange feeling I wasn’t really the same person I am in Mombasa. Instead of bartering for reasonable prices in the local markets we were expected to pay five times as much as normal in tourists stop offs. Any attempts to speak Swahili were met with raised eyebrows and even at lunch time when we stopped off for a quick bite to eat we found ourselves being charged 700ksh for a meal I pay 50ksh for anywhere else. And don’t think this was a fancy joint – no no, they just assumed we were tourists who didn’t know any better. In fact, the further into the trip I got the more I realized how much tourists get taken for a ride.

Not that I blame the locals, far from it. In fact two of the girls in my own group were a great example of why ‘mozungus’ get treated the way they do. From shouting at the animals on safari to flashing the cash to convince a local man to sell his necklace (a family heir loom he didn’t want to part with but could not say no to when a 2000ksh note was being thrust in his face) these two were quite frankly embarrassing. At one point on our Masai village tour the duo laughed and giggled their way through our guide’s commentary apparently because they found his outfit amusing.

If someone turned up in my neighborhood with such a disregard for the culture or environment I would be inclined to treat them like idiots too.

Speaking to some of the other ‘non-volunteers’ we met on the trip also had me thinking about how little the average tourist knows about the place they are visiting. They see the fancy hotels, the beautiful beaches, the lions on safari, but how many realise what’s hiding beneath these scenes? I’m not accusing every tourist in the world if this of course, I’ll be taking on the title of tourist myself a lot over the next year I’m sure when I head round Asia and Oz, but on the whole, how much gets brushed under the carpet in favour of a more romantic vision?

The carcasses on safari were a prime example of this. In Abeseli national park there were almost as many dead animals as there were alive because of the droughts. To the casual eye maybe this looks like the ‘circle of life’ that old Elton croons about so lovingly, but in stark reality it’s not. The animals are dying and dying rapidly because climate change has brought on some of the worst droughts in history. In turn the people are suffering because as their animals die off eventually so do they.

I’m not sure what to conclude from these thoughts mind as I don’t suppose much can be done about it (unless all tourists are forced to take a ‘reality check‘ class before they travel). It did make me very glad to get back to Likoni though – I might not blend in exactly and I might still get called a ‘mozungu’ everywhere I go but at least I can buy my lunch for 20 bob and feel part of the real scenery rather than part of a fake one.

Oh – for those considering safari by the way – book it when you’re here. Costs a third of price, only unsuspecting tourists should have to pay those ridiculous amounts

A love/hate relationship

First all can I just apologise for the lack of blogs recently, it has been a manic week! And secondly, apologies for the lack of photos too. It takes so long to upload anything here that any attempt has left me wanting to bash my head off the floor.

Anyway, as I was saying, it has been such a manic week and, the longer I am here, the more I begin to realise I have entered a real love/hate relationship with Mombasa.

On the one hand it is full of sights and sounds and experiences I could really do without. Last week I was thrown off a bus because I am a ‘muzongu’ and I refused to pay the quadruple price they try to charge unsuspecting tourists. It’s happened a few times now; I’ve relented to getting a different bus instead.

We also had another mugging incident. This time it was significantly worse however; three of us were waiting for the matatu and out of nowhere a man grabbed at one of the girls and pulled her phone from her pocket. There was a bit of a struggle, I tried to jump in to help as did the third girl and he did run off but two seconds later a second man rushed in and snatched the phone from the floor where the girl had managed to secure it with her foot.

It all happened very quickly and it was to be honest quite traumatic as it was much more violent than previous times. The volunteer whose phone it was had bashed her lip so there was a little blood too and she was by all accounts practically hysterical from the shock. It was not a nice afternoon and perhaps the worse thing of all was that no one had tried to help. They just stood and watched.

The whole event left me absolutely fuming to be honest – I come here to help but get treated like this. That said, once I had calmed down I had to acknowledge that people desperate enough to do that must be living in shocking conditions and in tight knit villages is it really any wonder no one helped when it means there could be food on the table that night? Needless to say I am now even more careful and the teachers at school have taken to escorting us when possible.

So, that’s explains one part of my love/hate relationship and for people at home it must seem odd as to why I would want to be here. Well, here’s a small example – today I decided to sponsor one of the children in my school. He’s 9, while the rest of my kids are about 6, but has only just come to school because his mother is too poor to send him.

Today during class my lad managed for the first time to shout out the right words when I asked the class what words begin with ‘B’, and then, afterwards he had finally begun to be able to read the four and five letter words – when I arrived he was struggling with words of two letters. I felt like a mother hen and it was all I could do not to give him a huge hug! I settled for a high five instead :0)

I’ve just ordered his school uniform – until now he’s the only one not wearing it because his mother couldn’t afford it. I can’t wait to see him in it tomorrow; not even being thrown off the bus again will outweigh that one!

When I came here last month I originally wanted to get involved with the street kids like I did before but my time has been taken up at Twaayf and so now, half way through, it seems unlikely I’ll be able to give that a real shot. Having found a boy in the school that really needs my help though has shown me that sometime you don’t have to go out looking for someone to help; they are right there in front of you to start off with. A valuable lesson I think and another reason why I can’t help but love this place; valuable lessons seems to hit me in the face practically everyday.

If anyone reading this is interested in sponsoring one of the kids by the way; it would cost you about 50 pounds a year to guarantee a year’s education… I used to spend that in a night out. Oh – and while I’m on the subject ; we really need new mattresses in the orphanage – if you fancy doing a good deed plleeaasseeee don’t hesitate to get in touch!!

Until next blog – Kwe Heri!

Volunteering is not meant to be a holiday camp

This is just a quick blog to air some pent up frustration over the attitudes of some volunteers.

There are as you may or may not be aware a lot of for and against arguments over young westerners heading out to developing parts of the world to do short term volunteer work. Are the volunteers taking a local person’s job for example? or are they really skilled enough to take the role of teacher/builder/carer? is the role they are filling a sustainable role or will the project be left short/worse off once the volunteer leaves again?

I, obviously, think volunteering is a good thing. I won’t go into the whole debate now but essentially I think we westerners do have something to offer and it is part of a big two way process – we benefit from our experiences – they, hopefully, benefit from whatever skills it is we can offer.

But, and here’s the problem, there are a few volunteers that give the rest of us a bad name.

When you volunteer you have to have a few things: patience, tolerance and, most of all, a real desire to help the people you are meeting and understand they can enrich your life as much as you can theirs, just in a different way.

I have met two volunteers this week who have really got my goat. They seem to think this is some kind of holiday camp and when they discovered they were expected to teach a class of kids they complained that that was ‘not what they had paid for’. Well excuse me but I thought what you paid for was to come and help in a community and surely if that means getting stuck into some teaching then that’s what you do?

Volunteering does not mean strolling in and expecting to play with children all day. Children go to school all day in the UK/USA- so why would you think otherwise here?

A couple of others refused to do office work. But office work is where the project needs the help. They apparently are not too fussed about that – they want to do the fun stuff like singing and dancing with the kids – so who cares what the project needs right?

Wrong. Volunteering is about helping a project or community in the areas THEY need you to. It’s about being flexible and adapting and sometimes just sucking it up and giving things a shot even if they scare you (teaching can be scary let’s be fair!).

No one expects you to clean toilets all day – but if you choose volunteering as part of your gap year/life experience then put your heart and soul into and do it properly. Remember – it’s a two way thing.

Adapting

Jambo! I can’t believe I have in Mombasa for a week already – and oh my god what a week it has been! There have of course been some highs and lows. I’ve had a little homesickness now and then which is to be expected really and it’s been quite tough adapting to temperatures of up to 45 degrees while trying to teach 40 kids in hot sweaty classrooms.

I also got pickpocketed – although the pickpocketer obviously hadn’t done his homework on potential victims because I clocked him straight away, grabbed him by the arm, had a little tussle and got the phone back!

I’ve had to get used to being called a MUZONGU (white person!) every two seconds again- even children shout it at you on the street! It’s not meant in a threatening or nasty way but it does get very tiring.

I have, again as expected, seen some pretty dire sights too. The worst being a man who had had his leg amputated left lying unconscious on the pavement with blood oozing from the bandages, a catheter bag full of urine at the side of him and a begging sign in front on him. I reallt didn’t know what to do. I’m too new here to start rushing in and trying to play the hero but it’s very very difficult to do nothing. It’s also sickens me that there are human beings with a mentality capable of using another person in that way.

It hasn’t all been bad here though. Far far from it. I have had a fantastic week with my kids. There are really getting to know me and I have some great lessons planned for then in the coming weeks! teaching them bodyparts was great fun on Friday – apparently the difference between hands and fingers can be tricky though!

I’ve started teaching the older kids at Twaayf some dance routines in preparation for a concert they are holding over Christmas which has also been a LOT of fun - I think I definitely having some budding Beyonces and Timberlakes in my group!

Home life is great too – the girls I’m living with are just fantastic and we are bonding very quickly (amazing what a game of ‘I have never’ can do for a group of friends!’.

This weekend was particularly fun, we spent some much needed relaxing time on the beach and headed to a club on Saturday night. The best place to drink here is Bella Vista which is very central to Mombasa but it is really only a pub so after around 11 we headed to Tembo nightclub.

Tembo is a little touristy but that’s not really a bad thing as it means you get left alone and get much less hassle than in some of the other places. Great music too and it’s outside so although it’s still hot it’s much better than a lot of others. 

The week ahead is looking to be pretty busy too so I think next weekend is definitely going to take a similar pattern!

Kwe Heri for now. Saz x

Touch down!

Woo hoo! I am finally writing this blog from Mombasa Kenya! I arrived last week on Thursday and it has been just awesome since touch down!

I am living back at the same volunteer house with 11 other girls and one guy (poor bloke!) and I even have the same room and bed as last time

Going back to Twaayf was amazing; everyone was so happy to see me and they couldn’t have been more welcoming – even the littler children remembered who I am – made me feel very special (in a good way not the yellow bus kind of way…).

Am really excited to get stuck in this time. As I am here for two months I am going to be looking after a number of bigger projects as well as teaching at the school in the mornings. One of my bigger roles is going to be to create and organise a structure for future volunteers as Twaayf has just managed to secure it’s own accomodation for volunteers so will now be running it’s own intern placements for people coming over rather than just using third parties. That means i’ll be very busy putting together brochures, leaflets, application forms, screening processes and so on.

I’m also going to be involved with securing new funding and writing articles to try and get them placed in local mags etc. All in all – a very very busy role which is no doubt going to leave me knackered by the time I leave! absolutely awesome though – I love that this time I can get my teeth into projects which will really make a difference.

I have already been picking up lots of Swahili too – possibly the most important being ‘Nataka Pombay’ which at the end of the very very hot and hard working day is almost critical to survival. Loosly translated it means: Give me a beer.

Touch down!

Woo hoo!  I am finally writing this blog from Mombasa Kenya! I arrived last week on Thursday and it has been just awesome since touch down!

I am living back at the same volunteer house with 11 other girls and one guy (poor bloke!) and I even have the same room and bed as last time

Going back to Twaayf was amazing; everyone was so happy to see me and they couldn’t have been more welcoming – even the littler children remembered who I am – made me feel very special (in a good way not the yellow bus kind of way…).

Am really excited to get stuck in this time. As I am here for two months I am going to be looking after a number of bigger projects as well as teaching at the school in the mornings.  One of my bigger roles is going to be to create and organise a structure for future volunteers as Twaayf has just managed to secure it’s own accommodation for volunteers so will now be running it’s own intern placements for people coming over rather than just using third parties. That means i’ll be very busy putting together brochures, leaflets, application forms, screening processes and so on.

I’m also going to be involved with securing new funding and writing articles to try and get them placed in local mags etc. All in all – a very very busy role which is no doubt going to leave me knackered by the time I leave!  absolutely awesome though – I love that this time I can get my teeth into projects which will really make a difference.

I have already been picking up lots of Swahili too – possibly the most important being ‘Nataka Pombay’ which at the end of the very very hot and hard working day is almost critical to survival. Loosly translated it means: Give me a beer.

Is this really a good idea?

So I’ve had my last official leaving do. Went out on Saturday to cause some mayhem in Oxford and boy did I do well. I managed to make a complete arse of myself in true Saz form which was largely down to the ridiculous dares I was made to do and partly down to waaaaayyyyy too much booze! You see, traditionally in my group of friends when we have a big birthday bash or leaving do or whatever we put together some kind of game to make the night more entertaining and to make sure that the birthday-ee or leaver is thoroughly humiliated (all in good fun of course!).

My mission involved twelve dares which I had to carry out in order to accumulate points – if I got enough points then I would get my leaving prize. Needless to say the drunker I got the more enthusiasm I put into completing my forfeits which included: getting a piggyback from a stranger, blagging a free drink from the barman, asking a stranger to marry me, getting a stranger to put money in my bra and later wearing my bra outside my dress until I had completed the next dare.

My favourite dare was the one where I had to dance with ten random men in succession. I was allowed to pass on a dare to a member of the group so i chose to pass that onto my brother – I gotta give it to him – he completed it and he did it with such enthusiasm too – can’t say the same for his ‘targets’!

Anyway – all in all it was a fabulous night. It did end in tears though, literally, as one of my closest friends had a bit of a cry at me leaving and that started the rest of us females off like dominoes. We must have looked a very odd sight – a gaggle of girls wailing ‘I love you sooo much’ while sobbing and hugging drunkenly. I also somewhat stupidly bashed my boyfriend over the head with a rose when i thought he was flirting with another girl. He wasn’t best pleased and i felt a bit stupid afterwards when even my brother said it was harmless banter – I put it all down to bening part of the leaving do process though. Emotions are going to be higher than normal and 92 shots of sambuca did nothing to help the situation! (ok so it was more like 9 but still…)

The not so good part of my night really though was that I managed to have my wallet stolen. Luckily I didn’t have too much money in it and only two banks cards, it did have my driving license though and £30 of itunes vouchers. I can’t replace the cards in time either as I fly on Thursday – so to who ever took it; thanks – i hope you feel good about stealing  an unemployed volunteers stuff and making life really awkward for her.   I also managed to break my camera. And a shoe. It does beg the question; is me travelling on my own for 5 months really a good idea when I can’t even get through a night out in Oxford in one piece!

Taking precautions

Found out today that a few of the kids in the orphanage have had malaria. Apparently they are much better now, all got medication in time, but I’m still a little worried.

Have double checked my own malaria tablets are packed and it’s really reinforced how you have to be so careful – will be sure not to miss a single one.

While we’re on the subject though I must say I have never had tablets which are so… finicky. I have to take them at the same time everyday, while standing up, with 2 pints of water and a meal and I can’t lie down for at least 2 hours after taking it.  I mean seriously?? I’m surprised it doesn’t go the whole hog and demand I stand on one leg while touching my nose with my eyes closed.

On a more serious note though Malaria is only one of the on-going issues in Kenya at the moment. This morning the Guardian showed a horrific picture of a mass grave filled with cow carcasses in Nairobi – the result of never ending droughts. (see below).

Apparently the Government tried to ease the burden on farmers whose animals were perishing from thirst by agreeing to pay them 8000 Kenya shillings for each cow (£65). But, in a bungled attempt to transport the beasts to the Kenya meat commission depot in Athi River where they were to be slaughtered for food, most died from lack of food and water on route.

I’m not sure what the drought situation is like in Mombasa and I don’t know how or if it is effecting the orphanage at the moment. My communications with the guys out there is fairly sporadic and normally quite brief because of a lack of resources on their part. It’s quite frustrating in a way – I wish there was more i could do –  but I suppose I will just have to wait and see.