Nomada

2nd largest Carnaval in the world, Cali Colombia

kena — Sat, 22 Mar 2014 06:02:00 GMT

Carnaval....The photos may be better than my words but I want to try to convey how this month I experienced the most exciting and creative distplay of human madness that I have ever experienced.

Since December, I have been collecting a list of amigos to join forces in the Carnavl adventure in Barranquilla Colombia. As you know from my last journal, Barranquilla is a city to be missed. Nothing special or even holding much beauty for a tourist, but when February and March arrives, the entire city transforms, and I really mean every part of the city transforms, and its a vey large city.

From my San Blas island adventure, Lost City treck, Taganga, Santa Marta and random travels, I had collected about 20 people who were all counting on me to arrange a way for us to meet for the celebration. Since January, every hostel has been booked and the hotels are charging $500 per person per night, sooo what to do... After 2 house rentals failed, I felt put out and didnt want to try, until a wonderful queen offered home to me and anyone wanting to come. She even did the laundry and made us meals.

So after I planned and organized a huge group of crazy travellers including...

2 canadians 5 colombians 1 german 1 swiss 2 english 2 americans 1 aussie 1 dutch 1 french and a few argentinians and chilleans crowded into a 3 bedroom house, we covered the floors with our packs and costumes and started the adventure with a bang.

Day 1

We all arrive around 4pm, I show them my costumes and after seeing the whole city including stores, busses, houses, people, dogs are dressed up...our friends realized they needed costumes and decided to shop for the week.

This night we all head to a celebration in the street. This turns out to be a huge fest of loud music blasting from several different shops and bars, and the streets full of dancing, spuma (white foam spray) and costumes galor. After my friends have had a few drinks we, the gringos mingle with the locals and the night ensues with massive spuma being sprayed on all of us constantly and corn flour being rubbed in our faces. The best thing about this is that absolutely no one cares about their image being trashed. We are all dancing and having so much fun no one can worry about having nice hair or shiny lip gloss. You will only look bad if you choose not to dance and participate, no one looked bad this night.

Day 2

Photos: Carnival 2014

kena — Mon, 3 Mar 2014 00:20:00 GMT

Barranquilla, Colombia

Photos: colombia

kena — Fri, 28 Feb 2014 22:37:00 GMT

Lost City of Sierra Nevadas, Sexy Motels, In a band...

kena — Thu, 27 Feb 2014 23:07:00 GMT

Wow Colombia is my favorite country in the world.

I have been on a wild wild ride through Colombia and living so much in the moment I haven’t felt so empowered to step out to write about it.

Cartagena:

I stay in the walled city in a Roof hostel with an amazing view above for people watching, which there is plenty of. People are jolly, stopping in the streets often to dance to any music which is heard from the store fronts, chat and share produce, or offer their fresh squeezed juices or coffee shots stored in their hand carts. The peoples personalities and looks are so colorful and welcoming. The city is built within walls of protection with cannons atop the wall of all the fortresses. The dirty looking antique walls cast shadows onto the Spaniard style bright buildings with overflowing flowery balconies. Every corner is subjected to constant artesinal culture with hippies selling their street goods and fruity venders pushing carts with juices and slices of fruity paradise. You know the Chiquita banana girl- they are real here. Fancy dressed ladies with fruit salad atop their head, yes, they are everywhere. Streets fill with horse drawn carriages and elderly tourist groups as they view the many strange statues in the city like the big naked fat ladie in Santa Domingo square. The tall clock towers and towering churches are consumed by the photographers at night who aim to capture a tourist free photo snap while the building glow with magical light.

Taganga, Santa Marta:

Well if I didn’t know Spanish before, I better get on it now! I work in a hostel in this cozy beachy mountain village. My hostel, Nirvana Hostel, for some reason brings in Argentinians and Chileans the most, with a rare gringo or two every few weeks. I never knew Argentinans were so light skinned and sort of german exotic looking. For some reason I am confused for being an Argentinian daily, I would say at least 3 times a day, even argentinians ask me if I am one of them. I am working in reception and am being forced to practice my Spanish constantly. At least for now I know how to recognize when someone needs toilet paper or a towel.

Taganga is hot by day and the rocksand beach has crystal clear water, but is not so much a bright blue sea view more of a desserty style paradise with cacti nd a few walking trails. Sunset provides a full view of the red sun dipping into the sea while the moon hovers overhead. Within an hour of sundown the typical travelling band is found in the streets playing for cash by the resturants, or the amazing afro brazillion drum and dance group Chaque Cultural, is having their drum sesh in the town center. I was blessed enough to dance with the group a few times and we really rocked the town staying up til 3 am laying around in a large circle making tunes and laughing at the insanity of the constant activity of Tagangas night life.

One very cool part of the town is the dog life here. There are hundreds of stray dogs running amok however they all seemed well cared for. Most are well filled out, no skin and bones, no disease and they flock to the hippies in the square each night. When the typical annoying street man comes to bother the group with pleas of money, alcohol, or just weird behavior, the dogs sense the energy and immediately run to the men at least 10 dogs barking at his knees warnings of protection for us. The dogs are all like best friends and one night I looked up and down the long beach and found 5 pairs of dogs running to the sea, chasing one another, wrestling and rolling in the sand. Its so great to see the happiness and health of the animals of the village. One night a large pot of fish soup was brought out to share with the hippies at 2am.. The funny thing was, the first people that were served, were the dogs, out of large dixie cups they sipped their meals and then layed at our sides ready for protecting us again.

Santa Marta is my neighboring town where I buy all my produce each week. I go to the grimy market with fishheads and animal parts strewn atop tables, I make my way to my favorite vendors. In one purchase I can buy 15dollars worth of produce which can last at least 2.5-3 days. What a cheap and healthy lifestyle this fruity diet provides me. And the freshness of produce cannot be compared to anywhere else in the world. I have tried guanabana fruit whichhas a dragon like exterior with fluffy white seed filled mess internally. The plantains here are also my new favorite, I can cook slices of them and smash them into toasted potato chip like goodies, I cannot wait to make these at home!

Lost City, Ciudad Perdida, Sierra Nevada Mountains:

The lost city or Ciudad Perdida is a city which is built into the mountains of the Sierra Nevadas. Currently inhabited by the Kogi tribes and other nativos, the Sierra Mountains are at the highest elevation for the region. I embark on a 4 day trek to the top of the mountain ranges to view the lost city. Apparently the lost city was discovered by men looking for gold and other antiques in the 60s and was excavated and uncovered and restored through help by the government. 4 grewling days of walking climbing and jumping are well worth the hassle as we take our final walk up 1000 steps to the top of the city. See my photos below, looks like a fairy tale.

In 2005 I read the Kogi book and thought how amazing it would be to visit this land, who knew it would come true and I would be able to see into this hidden world. They may be the most protected and wild nativo culture in the world and it is believed that they are hidden in the mountains where no one knows where they exist. They are very quiet in nature and have a mysterious earthly expert like manner to their lives which makes me feel a bit naive and leaves me asking more questions than before I started. The men and women have long black hair and they wear white garments with colorful woven bags. Men constantly grind seashells to make lye which is for mixing with the coca leaves which they chew on all day for the use of staying awake and working through the bitter cold. Women and children constantly weave cloth and bags. Their everyday life is only filled by the purpose of existance. A constant meditation of serving the land.

Our team extreme decided to run home on the final day so leaping from one rock to the next, flying over crevices, and skidding on the powdery sand in the blazing sun was only rewarded by our final hour when we all jumped into the large natural pool. Being dirty and wet for 3 days was rewarded by this crystal clean spring water. Our group had great energy and I ended up travelling with 5 of the people over the next few weeks and I cant wait for our next adventure.

The Band, Clan Destino

With my great camera skills and dance moves, I have impressd a few bands while I have been travelling. One in particular I began working with along the sunny Taganga beaches. Recording video, making movies, and coordinating dance moves. My every day and weekend is taken over by street performances and planning our next shows, advertising and creating music. I am an official shaker girl with my homemade rice sounds and of course my acrobatic hula hoop dancing which blows the crowd away. I am also the manager and help their saving, they are horrible with money. I am making their website now and designing with them for tshirts and goodies for their first album.

One weekend we move to a new city for a night to try out the local culture and earn some cash, Barranquilla, the ugly industrial no beach town, but where the 2nd largest Carnival in the world takes place. Arriving late we are bombarded by Barranquillas carnival life which has started its annual celebration 3 weeks early. We are forced to find the cheapest accommodation and unfortunately land in a Sexy Motel. Our room has a very useful chair which has stirrups and handles, use your imagination, a large mirror on the wall, a vinyl mattress and a horrible case of bed bugs. Lets just say there is little rest and we cannot wait to leave this place by morning.

After my finals days in the northern coast, I begin my decent back to Cartagena where the band and I perform a few times a week in the streets, resturants, and bars. I even get the chance to dance in a Bourban Street bar which is like american mardi gras, with a large bar top where I put on my sexy moves atop the customersr. Rolling around, standing on my head and just being crazy and sharing good vibes. The performance was great, only that my foot kicked an american dudes drink to the floor. The night was outrageous and we were asked to return, the crowd loved it.

The two main boys of the band Tatino, singer and accoustic guitarist, Juancho, drummer (the cajon drum) are captivatingly cool and lovely humans. Their style ranges from a bit of reggae peppy beats, some accoustic like-rock, but mostly their lyrics fill the hearts of love seeking audiences. Their genre is based on the people they meet on their 5month colombian tour as they explore with various artists including an Argentinian trumpetest and a Mexican cellist...what a magical mix. Their sly smiles and grungy but chiq attire grab the audience as they serenade the heart. I am currently teaching them some english and pronunciation for more of a tourist crowd.

Please check below for links to my video dancing on the bar in Bourban street, and the album here of some wonderful photos of the past few weeks.

video..

http://youtu.be/pZPJWHy6tFs

photo gallery

http://journals.worldnomads.com/kena/photos/45759/Colombia/colombia#axzz2vSvvzINW

I hope you are all well.

Carnival is callin my name!

Photos: San Blas

kena — Thu, 16 Jan 2014 05:00:00 GMT

Travelling by speed boat in the rumbling atlantic, from Panama to Colombia and our tribes journey continued

SAN BLAS, THE MYSTERIOUS DARIAN GAP AND THE KUNA TRIBES, 21 FRIENDS FOR LIFE

kena — Thu, 16 Jan 2014 04:24:00 GMT

San Blas Islands, small boat, lots of people, heavy backpacks, HUGE WAVES

If that doesn´t explain enough, just let me…

San Blas islands are a covetted área of well protected land inhabited by a few tribes mostly known as the Kuna people. They have maintained more distance from the developed world than many tribes around the world, however they do participate in some means of business which helps their survival on the very remote lands they inhabit called the Durian Gap. This área between Panama and Colombia is extremely rural and is rarely crossed directly via land mostly because the guerillas of colombia do their dangerous business in this area in the decades past. It is therfore typically a gateway for travellers to enter Colombia at sea. During the process of the 4 day journey to the country to the south, travellers of all walks of the world, but mostly Canadians (approx 14 of the 21) boarded two very small boats for a rough ride, lots of adventure, and a very bonding experience.

DAY 1

Early morning hours before, where about 4 of us meet outside of Lunas Castle (the most popular hostel in P. City) at 5am with red eyes and barely a wink of sleep. Mostly that was because panamá was celebrating their typical 15th day of the month pay day meaning big party and happy hour in the bar below. Maybe this wouldn´t be so bad except that the alcohol led to a lot of lets say, bedroom exercise in a not so private setting, one couple even decided to participate atop a bunk bed with my friend in anquish below…come on seriously!!!

7 of us plus a driver crammed into a small jeep with lots of bags tied to the roof. For the next hour and a half, the group sat in anquish as people who never felt car sick held their bellies and I covered my mouth, head dangling by the window as I tried to hold on to all hope that I wouldn´t gush. Our driver could care less about anything but time so going through winding hills with climbs of a hundred feet while winding left to right at 90degrees meant nothing….why wait to pass the person in front of us on this blind corner when you could just save a little time by whizzing past with fingers crossed.

Our group was comprized of mostly canadians from many provinces, including a 3 piece male trio band ``Tcha Badjo`` from french canada who was travelling the world in their motorhome. Other members included a talented musician a very liberal and creative artist named Kurtz with a hard southern drawl straight from Texas, a hilarious couple from holland, and a few other characters like the sophisticated smart a$$ kiwi named Bryce.

After 2 hours, we arrive to our first uninhabited island, people could barely wait for the boats to dock before plunging into the crystal sea. We had to be careful though because the sand below was litterally covered by giant start fish and shells. The conches that were on the beach were so heavy, that lifting them in one hand was a challenge. I felt like lordess of the flies holding one.

Meals were great for a day or two, theyd arranged for a papaya 2 feet long for my first few meals, still fruit binging. I thought islands would be my best friend…wrong! Little did I know, you would be lucky to find a banana anywhere within a few miles, have as many fatty coconuts that you can retrieve though…I never thought I could be so tired of coconuts…I could live happily without another one for a year now.

We leave the island and arrive at the village of our first Kuna families. These Kunas were sort of on the cusp of civilization, although their culture remains, living in bamboo and grass hut homes, cooking atop live fire, grabbing their meals from the sea, they do wear our style clothing and love to talk to the gringos. A game of barefoot on cement futbol erupts within minutes so I sit to watch the men play with the boys, except the Kuna boys were more like the men, one boy decides to score by doing a backward overhead kick straight into the goal landing his back on cement, no harm. He prances away doing his victory dance, leaving the gringo men to feel the defeat and one of our Austrian compadres with a huge chunk of skin gone from his underfoot.

I sit with little chickas who talk to me in spanish I barely understand but finally realize they want to know how I have made my hair, and is it fake. They obsess over the dreadlocks and start to braid all the straight parts, look for the photo below. I braid their hair too in a style they´ve never seen and they are soo excited to show their cousins….who must be everyone on the island, I get the feeling interbreeding is common here…they must because where can you go to find a mate, you´re on an island!

After and hour i whip out my hula hoops to perform while the bass player of the Canadian band, Tcha Badjo, teaches the kuna boys to sing as he strums beautifully singing some Bob Marley hits with a slight French undertone. I make great progress with the kids and the hoops and even teach 2 of the girls 4 tricks in a few hours.

Dinner presents 24 huge lobsters who are so beautiful, but fully dead on plates, and me with a gigantic papaya and banana fruit salad. We enter the sess pool of hammocks, seriously like 15 in one room, everyone is touching their neighbors. We barely sleep, interupted by horrid sounds as if someone is dying, one of the boat crew has some serious breathing problems and I cannot say he is even snoring, more like an animal who has climbed into his throat and is suffering a painful death. We are laughing at 2am at the pain we are suffering from lack of sleep and complete and utter torcher from this guy who lays next to me but refuses to wake up even while I kick him. oh well.

Morning yoga in the kids park, fruit salad breakfast…bathrooms that are tin boxes above the sea where you can watch your waste below you be consumed by the fish…sorry for the details but again look at the photos below to understand why any sane person would never swim near their shores.

DAY 2

This morning at sea was complete torture as the winds blew and the sea was rough. Swells of over 4 meters were near us as we held tight to the boat. The boat flew out of the wáter at least 10 times and at first it was an adventure, after being drenched by wáter, having no sign of land and a butt in pain, all of us were over this experience, I´d rather swim to the next island than be overturned in this small boat.

Finally land, a beautiful and large island with a meadow of coconuts. We laugh over the idea of aqua dumping, which is apprently required because Kuna law says no one is allowed to put waste into the land. hahaha

The night is brought in with the best time of the trip. 2 guitars, 6 singer songwriters, and a few on the spot instruments of jugs, sticks, and spoons makes for a great jam. For hours we sit listening to music of gypsy russia, hippie texan groove, and french inspired love songs. The group climbs coconut trees in anquish, harder than you think, as everyone cracks open coconuts and adds rum for the true malibu dreamy drink.

Everyone gets a bit toasted into the dark as we all gather firewood and créate a blazing flame for smoores and songs. Several people have never had the tasty treat and think we northamericans are insane, but it doesn´t stop them from consuming two large bags of mellows and a few kilos of chocolate. We scatter our hammocks and I rock the night away with the flames in my periferal and the stars above my coconut tree bed.

DAY 3

As sun rises I practice yoga and watch as people try to be secretive as they waddle at 6am into the ocean for an aqua dump before other people awake...oh the things you can experience during meditation.

Sea is not so horrible today but our final island isn´t the best as we arrive to a very small island with barely any shade. At this point, I have barely any fruit for lunch, and I am ready to get to shore as are my sun burnt friends. A finally group photos session (see photos) and we are headed to our last village.

The final village we get to stay at is wonderfully organic. Women dress in mola fabrics which are sewn paintings, their arms and legs are covered in beaded leg and arm wamer type of things, most women have their septem peirced and they shy away from us besdies a few who help with tourists. The homes again are grass huts but this village has a solar panel atop every roof. An investment panama made when tourist industry through the islands boomed last year. These kunas live simply, but it´s apparent, this is not your ordinary village, they are extremely wealthy. Makes you wonder how...they boarder colombia by a few kilometers, so take your guess.

Unlike the othe kunas, the kids hide their faces and run away. Apparently as we take photos, we steal their soul so the kids are afraid of us. Walking through the village we hear moaning and crying from a hut shoved with kunas and find out that a man has just died. Earie feeling. Apparently the body will be boated aroudn the island for mourning and eventually be taken to an island for burrying the dead.

Dinner brings me a big bowl of canned dowl fruit covered in corn syrup and a parrot sitting on my shoulder licking the salt from my hair for at least a half hour. So funny. Another hammock night but a great nights rest.

DAY 4

We rise very early for an hour long ride to the boarder where we all unload our bags lay them on cement and watch as drug sniffing dogs rummage our things and our passports are questioned. We all manage to escape drug prosecutions and are allowed back onto the boat and headed for colombia!!

We stay the night in Capurgana, a sleepy touristy town with lots of hippies who have landed here and aren´t leaving any time soon. They crouch on streets selling hand woven bracelets while the mule drawn carriages trot past. No cars in Capurgana, very nice. Tomorrow our troup of 19 people head to Cartagena as a big team awesome!

DAY 5

We are so stressed out by all the on and off boat transfers, pained bodies, achy bums, and stressful local mentality. But our team now like a big family was so supportive and kind to oneanother. Such a blessing to know them all.

Now getting our 3 hours boat ride into colombia was a huge mess. You have to pay for each bags weight and wait in a huge mess of disorganized people. Basically the boats were flooded with extras so although we were supposed to be aboard the first or 2nd big and safer boats, we landed on a much small boat crammed with about 30+bodies. An amazingly fast and somewhat bumpy ride causes yet another painful bum.

In the land of Turbo, we fill an entire bus with our crew of 15 now and we all head into Cartagena on yet another very dangerous blind corner winding 4 hour ride that should have taken 5 1/2 hours. Getting a hostel for us all was a bit tricky and we all scatter into the late night for very expensive hostels in the most expensive city in Colombia.

Cartagena so far is my favorite city abroad...and this is another journal, another day..

sorry for the detail,,,but ya really had to be there.

A gecko peed on me, square trees

kena — Mon, 30 Dec 2013 06:35:00 GMT

I am on my second and final month here in panama and it has been amazing. This place is really a great area to consider for a later in life retirement. It's not so different that your cultural views clash, but its just exotic enough that life is blissful and can be adventurous or serene with an hours drive to jungly mountains, or a few steps to the sea.

My friends here in gorgona, the expat military family, moved to a beautiful condo 30min stroll up the black sand beach of gorgona. I have walked there a few times to take a dip in their luxurious crystal clean pool. One day the beach dissapeared with the hight tide and I decided to cross some boulders which was a bad idea as the tide rose and I was thrust against the stones, cutting up my ankles, feet and knees. The I first swim in the ocean before the chlorine pool,,I didnt realize how rough the water was at the time as I plunged in. All I felt minutes later was a huge wave rush over top of me, ripping my swimsuit down to my knees, plunging saltwater in my nose and stinging my eyes. I gasped for air as I reached the surface and recollected myself. I am starting to see its possible for people to walk into the water, and never walk back out. Its the entrance of the water that is dangerous, in fact as soon as you are past the fall of the water, you can ride the waves as you bounce up and down in its belly further from shore. It makes me giggle as a child, to float in the large sea and feel its natural trampoline effect.

I have taken on the housekeeping job of the hostel so on top of volunteering, I am also a paid staff member of the hostel. This is all great except that I work very long hours. For example, raking our lawn takes upward of 4 hours, and now the northern winds push the leaves from the barrel before I can dump them, frustrating. I have a run in with a 4 inch black scorpian who I nearly swatted with a scooping motion of my hands. Scary

I have paint 3 rooms entirely and redorated and designed the walls, 2 of which are fully size murals, the others are designed patterns. I might need a painting brake. Overall I have painted for more that 100hours in this hostel. I love it but its a rough art to know how to do, very time consuming, and hard on the body I must say.

When the manager the hostel for 8 days while he travelled to Disney world with his family, I was happy him to take a break and relax without worrying, for a minute. The assistant manager and maid were in charge and I just assisted with computer work and marketing, organizing etc. But after day 2, all bets were off. The staff played beer pong and drank all day, parties were hosted where people barely paid for any alcohol or beverages, the assistant allowed people in the hostel who then entered and stole several things including our guests food and the maids expensive phone...oh and did I mention the orgy in the pool. I was soooooo mad. When the cats away, our mice did play. Luckily this put me in the position to step up and take control.

In fact sometimes stagnancy can only be disrupted by an extreme action. Well this poor behaviour was the action this hostel needed. When the manager returned, we did a whole new rework of the hostel, new rules, new organizational strategies, and overall rework of the business strategy. Now with the hostel in tip top shape, newly designed rooms, great new bar recipes and games this hostel is really rising to its potential.

January is the month for most panamanians to take their 1 month leave from work, just like the maid did. It is also summer. So each weekend and many days the beaches are filled which means our hostel is filled. We host breakfast now from 8-11 so drunkies who have stayed on the beach partying all night, drag themselves to our hostel for a yummy bite to eat. Entire familes even rent every bed in the dorms to have family parties, birthday celebrations, reunions and we've had lots of kids running round smiling.

I love that this hostel is so locals friendly. Unlike many hostels I have stayed in...this is the first ever hostel which is owned or run by a local man which is great so that the locals themselves feel comfortable coming. Many hostels owned by foreigners often house a staff of caucasion expats who are overly drunk every day, pissed off at everying that happens, and the atmosphere is rather directed to backpackers. This is the same panamanian hostels, and every african hostel I stayed in. This is theee first time I have ever had such a great appreciation for the bright eyed smily manager and his wonderful attitude toward guests of every color.

A german woman came to visit and had a vehicle so we took the opportunity to head into the El Valle region. We took a stroll to a nice waterfall, nothing special, headed over to a mountain for a long walk to the unique grove of "cuarto arboles" square trees. The really were square, at the bottom anyway. The looked pretty unique and had some amazing growth on them. There was a trail of leaf cutter ants probably 50 feet long climbing the hil as we left..I still don't understand how they carry those things. Our final stop of the trip was to the hot springs..more like warm springs. I smothered myself in mud from head to tow. It felt soooo nutrifying, and our half our or so soak in body temp water was a delight. Not very hot water but the nutrients were just enough for me. My hair felt wonderful after.

Oh yeah christmas is DEC 24th here. We celbrated christmas by eating taco buffet... I threw veggies into a tortilla and that was my meal. It was sweet to sit at a table with our staff though and share in the night. The expats gave us a more traditional version hosted in their new condo on the 25th. Luckily I ate well with a big fruit salada, apple pie, and completely preservative enriched green bean casserole taste goode feels bad, it was so sweet with canned beans, loads of floury mix, and wow the sodium. Eh ya only live once right...it was nice of her to try and make me something veggie anyway. This marked the last day of my cooked food appetite.

Dec 8th was my bday, I got the best present I have ever recieved which took me into uncontrollable tears as my father told me he has finally quit smoking after 40 years. I cannot express the joy I have for him and our family. What a hard battle, and he has succeeded. Way to go papa.

I also made the decision to fly my parents out to Peru for machu pichu adventure. For parents who rarely travel outside of the western states, this is a huge leap and I cannot wait for april to come when we will unite in Peru! woooo hooo, Inca trail her comes the Heck family, watch out!

On the 26th day of DEC, I began my fruit only consumption plan. I am now on the 16th day, and I am down 8 lbs, my digestion is incredibly smooth, and I am absolutely never hungry. The philosophy stems from Dr. Doug Grahms 80 10 10 diet which I really want to try when I get back to the usa, but I am following a philosophy based on something called 30bad diet, or 30 bananas a day. The idea is to consume only fruits for most days, and sometimes add some leafy greens of low fat carbs. This includes all high carb food like raw fruit, and if needed a steamed potato. So far I have been feasting on approximately 15 bananas, 2 oranges, a kiwi or a peach, pineapple slices, half a cantaloupe and maybe a few dates, on a typical day. Now this may seem like a ton, however consider that this is only about 2000 calories, and digested with ease as all the carbohydrates are simple and water based. The idea of restricting calories, and cutting meals to me just seems so foolish now I cannot imagines going back to a life of restriction. The main difference is also that I am not shoving my face with high fat/protien items like nuts and seeds. These slow down the system, and conjest the cells, I never feel tired and I feel stronger and more lean. I am so excited. For now the fruitarian life is meant to be a month only cleanse, but I will absolutely continue if I decide this is the correct path for me, and at this point, it is!

New years was rather uneventful in Malibu Hostel. Of course we were packed full with guests but most people preferred the ocean waves and beachy celebration as fireworks blasted in all direction at the ding of 14. Our bar had a wonderful yell or two and rushed to the beach to catch the end of the show. This set off another 3 days of fireworks. In fact christmas music is still being played in stores while phone ringers still chant "jingle bells" and "white christmas"....even it's never been a white christmas here oh ya and its January 12th by now.

Next week on wednesday, imagine me on a boat headed through the most native lands called the During gap between panama and colombia. The San Blas islands are inhabited by several tribes most of which are the Kuna community. People who live mostely from the land, and of course tourists. The people are of small stature wearing traditional garb called molas, or sewn paintings, the petite women dress their limbs with tightly strewn beads that wrap from wrist to ellow, ankle to knee. On the speedboat, I will island hop from one land to the next for 4 days until i finally reach the last town of panama before crossing to the land of Eldorado.

I will be lounging for about 10 days total from panama, to my next hostal. 4 days on the island, 2 on the boarder, and about 4 on a large tourist town called cartagena where the great walled citys exists. From there I will move to a Hostel called Nirvana Hostal in a town called Tanganga which is located appropriately on the carribean, but just minutes from the Sierra Nevada mountains.

please check out my photo album for pics of paintings i have done and some panama stuff !

i love you all happy yr of 2014, or as panamanians will say "feli ano"

Nomad in the melting pot, Panama

kena — Mon, 25 Nov 2013 09:53:00 GMT

Hola mi familia y amigos! Soy Kina Noelia de Panama!

Can you tell my spanish has really advanced in 2 weeks :).. Really though I am doing well with the spanish language, its a fairly simple format and people here in panama enjoy playing around with my brain.

I started my travels by heading straight to Bocas de Toro which is a huge tourist/sufring/scuba/ extreme sport zone along the border of Costa Rica. I stayed for a week atop a floating hostel hooked to the shores of the Island. Taxis here come and go via speed boat for 1 dollar in any direction. Look left and you will see a sun kissed dreadie on a longboards, look right and you will see a long haired little boy with scuba gear on jumping off their parents yaht into the sea. Every hostel has a themed night, our is ladies night wed and sat, and beer pong competition sundays. We have 3 dunking stations in the hostel. One is equipped with a built in trampoline over the water, the other provides 3 large swings which you can soar off of as you plummet to the salt water below. Can you imagine the playground all day everyday and during parties the waters are filled with laughter and giggles.

Unfortunately the popularity of the island forced my work trade position to be overcrowded so I had to leave and search for a new position. Besides the entertainment of parties every night, I have to admit I was utterly bored outta my mind not being able to serve a purpose, plus if you aren't a surfer or diver, what are you going to do every day. Plus the so called "chino shops" were the only tiendas providing any semblance of produce. So each day I had to to choose from the fly ridden cabbage carrots onions or green peppers, pineapple,limes, or plantains and create some balance of nutrition....when my thumb sank into a carrot one morning, I knew I needed to shift. Thus I finally found a new shore side work-trade position near the city. I hopped back on the next 10 hour freezing cold ac overcharged bus ride south toward panama city. .

Currently I am located in a small area called Nueva Gorgona, Malibu Beach, Malibu Beach Hostel, 1.25 hours from Panama city on the Pacific side. Of at least 20 people who are here right now at 733 am, I am the only sober person. The semi private potluck party began about 12 pm saturday and the music (currently I am dj blasting manu chao) has not lowered volume sine the start...sorry neighbors, the people have not slowed on consumption, life here is a comedy and celebration at every turn.

This area is full expats, retiree's and a few youngsters travelling. But mostly canadian and american 50-80 somethings who are building large real estate or purchasing private condo gated community homes on the shore. and let me tell you the shore is to be desired. Oceania is the only relief from overwhelming heat, and i love heat but man this is powerful, I rarely share the miles of beach with anyone else. Yesterday I swam for an hour only in the company of my Boyfriend Stitch, a uni-testicled doxan and 2 horses who were being rode in the sea bareback by some Indian looking male youth. Ever see pippi longstocking?, its really beautiful to see horses in the water.

I had to run an errand alone to Panama city, which is a landscape of huge buildings, crazy architecture, larger than typical american malls and more fancy too, oh and did I mention there is this big canal thing people like to go see. I wiggled through the city using my spanish skills hailing cabs, negotiating prices, and pretending I knew what I was doing.

I am currently trained as a bartender here and I feel like a nannie here as I am starting to organize and decorate the hostel for a young 30yr old male who has an awesome business but no Feng Shui skills. Luckily he is open to my ideas and I am ready to take over this department.

Something funny about Panama is the diversity of colors. Honestly I never know where someone is actually from. You see Africans, Indians, Caucasians, Latinos, all the skin colors of the rainbow even a ton of Chinese people who are all Panamanians. This is the so called melting pot of latin america because it was taken over by so many countries and with the construction of the canal came black slaves, the construction of the railroad brought Chinese people....ever here Chinese people speak fluent Spanish with a Chinese accent...funny but just sooo awesome. Seriously beautiful ethnicity spectrum here. Anyhow next weekend is the Spanish independence day of Panama, big celebrations here we come!

I was asked on day 3 what was the top thing I missed about america, well not much since I had been gone less than 72 hours but my first though was kale, second thought was my muscle man trainer....well here in Gorgona I have joined a gym which I go to after a run or yoga on the beach...our crew then goes to get fresh produce of all sorts in a large american like tienda, no kale yet but there's enough of everything else that I am a happy camper thus far, tonght was coconut curried eggplant!

I am off for now, Spanish ind. Day saturday, Incubus concert Sunday...good things to come...check out the map link below for an update on location. I love you all!

http://www.goprotravelling.com/embed/d74ce0376fe4d3b22dc9c0721cac64d6

we do not inherit the land
we borrow it from the children

Photos: panama 2013

kena — Fri, 11 Jan 2013 09:42:00 GMT

Congolese Business Trainings, Nile River, Kin Reunion

kena — Sun, 1 Apr 2012 00:11:00 GMT

The Refugee group, who we are now calling RIP (Refugee Initiative Projects) worked me very hard during my stay. I had to teach myself in order to teach them, and it was a grueling process. Staying with the family also proved to be a challenge and a blessing in disguise. My stay with the family in our small two bedroom home, found me in room on a mattress laid on the cement floor, ants spread about, and mozzi net-less. No problem really though I was blessed to have a soft yet uncomfortable surface. The children cooped themselves in the sitting room scattered about on the sofa and mattresses and each morning their 5am routine of waking for early tea before school proved to be a better wake up call then the usual roosters crow. By 5am this family was yelling, laughing, arguing, joking, a complete mix of emotions about the night, the future day, and other mysteries I couldn't comprehend, I was utterly amazed by the energy they had. Luckily 7am found the space quiet as everyone left for school and work...this leaving Mama and I to our own devices.

Mama served me chipati's tortilla like oil soaked bready breakfast food and sugar induced milky tea. I couldnt find the courage to ask for milk free and although I tried to refuse sugar for the first week, she then began adding it before I could prevent. And forget my gluten free attempts, I suffered for my 3 week stint with them as they tried to convince me that rice and veggies wouldn't keep me alive and their pride wouldn't allow me to return home thin. What a kind gesture, or maybe a hideous ploy to fatten me up so I would want to stay. Mama and I tried to talk, but her little english and my minute swahili background allowed for a few minutes of conversation each day ending with us frustratingly laughing.

The 2nd week, I spent hours researching and planning because Tuesday was the big biz day. I would be supplying 45 family representatives with a 3 days business training that I found on the internet. The training focused on business in Africa and although I have not biz background, the complete facilitators guide provided pictures and activities for even the novice like me. I was excited and although the stress of planning tea breaks and catering food was overwhelming, we somehow figured it all out and luckily the laid back manner of the Congolese made it all ok.

Day one was a breeze, everyone was excited and ready to enjoy their free informational meetings and they loved the discussion on the topics of business management, time allocation, and income/revenue expenses. I was so amazed by how in depth and intuitive the group interacted together. I of course had hired two men to present the information in the local tongue so I was just a sideline player which was fine with me. The catered food arrived two hours late but provided a luscious dish overflowing our plates and everyone happily walked home talking about the days events and tomorrows promises.

Day two of training was extremely stressful as the class seemed apprehensive for the topics of the day. Much of the training for day two was based on record keeping, bank deposits, cost flow and analysis. They seemed very put off by paper work, invoices, etc. I can sympathize with their feelings as I know it can be overwhelming with idea of recording every tomato sold and onion loaned, but the worst part is that started to target me as if I were pushing useless information on me. We had planned an activity to help them learn how to use the techniques but unfortunately the language proved to be a huge barrier and we lost the attention of all but maybe 5 of our group by the disorganized discussion. A few men even tried to challenge me in saying that the information was not fit for Africa, until I showed them the Kenya specific packet I was using and they finally shut up. Anyway day two ended in fifty percent useful information and 50percent of 'will never be use' information...at least it was over....As for me, my day was not yet done.

I had to rush to the cyber to print off the certificated of completion that I would be presenting in two days. Of course I arrived when the power was off. Being exhausted, I curled up on the chairs and slept droolily for an hour and upon waking found still no electricity. Luckily the owners helped me by buying fuel and using the generator to run the printer, after an hour of preparing it, the magical electricity fairy arrived and we had power. This however meant that a huge flock of customers crowded the 8by10ft room where 8 computers were crammed and I was hot, heated and ready to leave as soon as they were printed. Unfortunately after certificate number 22, the printer broke. By now the sun was setting, I had no phone to call home and I was burnt out. 2 hours of trying to fix the printer ended in vain when I just had to give up and I left the cyber when Pastor Phil came looking for me in the dark night.

My sullen mood could have found me rushing to bed without talking to anyone had it not been for the next 15minutes of events. Walking quietly through the busy market, I saw a large shadowy shape near a fence. In fact two large shapes, I crept closer to find two huge camels. Mounted on their backs were riding saddles. I looked at Phil and said lets go. After a 1 dollar payment, we were lifted 15 feet into the air and on our way home atop a camel. I must say, a very uncomfortable and less than graceful ride, but what a sweet animal. The children welcomed me home and before I could go inside they were already atop of the animals 3 on each and asking for me to pay, how could I say no. Everyone got a ride that night and we laughed and enjoy evening tea with lifted spirits.

Early Thursday I arrived to get the certificates and after 2 hours of recap, we were able to present the group with completion papers which they accompanied by a serenade of song and dance and laughter cheersed by sodas and biscuits which I provided. I felt fulfilled and relieved that it was all over. In two days I would travel on.

The final night, we had a meeting with the RIP board which is composed of 3 women and 6 men who will counsel, meet, and plan events for small business start up in the group. They will be the ones to votes on money allocation and plan for families to be sponsored as loans are repaid. We have used micro finance techniques to create a revolving fund of a loan at 5percent interest to be repaid withing one a half year at which time a new family can be sponsored. For now only one family was sponsored with my 800dollar start up program and will hopefully be paid back within a 9 month plan so a new family can participate. The group is eager and I have already been emailed with a half dozen project proposals for businesses which I must seek sponsorship for. Again this is overwhelming but I know this project will end in successful prosperity for the Congolese Refugees in Kenya.

Next day, I traveled to Nakuru which is halfway to the boarder where I met my friend JOJO in his new home...not really a house, but home. It was a tin walled and tin roofed hut with cement floors and a surprisingly comfortable bed. Luckily we only spent 1 day there and we were off to Kisumu, the halfway mark to the boarder. We arrived very late and spent 3 hours waiting for the next van to depart. For the next 5 hours, we rode on a what should be 3 hours trip. 2hours were spent on a rough, bumpy, pothole filled dirt highway that was being constructed by the Chinese. Like most road projects in Africa, they plow the entire road rather than just part, and work for a week on a small strip of it to be completed, leaving the remaining road a treacherous path to travel. And it was horrible, thank god I hadn't eaten since breakfast because my stomach churned. By dark we were in Kisumu and I counted my blessings as we found a cheap guest house and 24hour supermarket. I got very back tasting oats and soured juice and slept for a good 6 hours before we set out for the Uganda transport.

Midday found us on our way and by 1pm we had crossed the boarder with ease. I even sneaked out by confusing the officer with a story about why I did not have a Kenyan visa, and extra 50bucks found me well so JoJo and I took a day to hang out on the Nile River in a small backpackers hostel. The river was glorious and the monkeys were amok. Night one was horribly hot and no power or water was available, they didn't even bring us a bucket to wash our hands in from the river, the service was shit and I will never go back there again,,, but the river itself fulfilled my goals of serenity for the time being.

At 8am I snuck down to the shore where nearly 20 monkeys and babes roamed around me not frightened by my presence. I tried to do yoga but was distracted by a few who knocked a huge jack fruit from the tree above which landed 10ft from me. They jumped down and continued eating it as I watched a series of monkeys of differing stature in the clan battle it out for their turn. 30minutes later a fight broke out and all the monkeys scampered to see the battle leaving me time to do yoga in the sand. After a series of nature poses, I stripped to my swimming costume and dove into the river which I had earlier scene a large 4 foot lizard swimming in...I was so scared, but felt so clean and thew water although maylayed by river flies, was gloriously cleansing. By midday we took off to Kampala town.

As night arrived, the town came more alive than ever. Kampala is a huge town built on hills and taxi parks are in the center of it all in lower sections. We alighted transport at the top of a hill where city lights and shiny shops lit the town to midday equality. Cellphone shops displayed lit glass cases, men selling sugar yelled "sukar moja mbili (sugar 2000 shillings)" on the side of the street, preachers took their chance to chant down babylon with bible in hand, and we rushed speedily through the maize to the taxi park.

We finally made it to Kin and were welcomed by our Kin family for a great reunion. We sat with Uncle for a very long time discussing the years successes and the new well development which was providing them with the daily food money for our kids. I found out that 2 past volunteers were now sponsoring our children's education and they were beginning seminary training and vocational school in a few months. What a great accomplishment. Sitting with uncle really brought me back to life as I felt comfortable, at ease, and in a great spirits with this wonderfully gifted leader who's life revolved around creating other peoples happiness. What a blessing we all have in Gganda village to be a part of this mans life creation.

Tomorrow, I begin work in this glorious compound with my brothers and sisters.

quote of the day:

children dance, before they know there isn't anything that isn't music

peaces and loves,

kena

karaoke, ferry, sound therapy in the bush, a congolese home

kena — Fri, 17 Feb 2012 22:06:00 GMT

With Christmas and New years out of the way, it was time for me to buckle down and complete projects...i sewed more African utility belts than i ever had before and sold over 200usd worth even selling 5 in one day. one girl had even sought me out after seeing a girl wearing one in the Airport in Malawi's capital. The girl said there was a dready seamstress on the bay who was selling them. there i was sewing when she arrived at Butterfly, she bought 2 that day. i seemed to by famous in the area. I used half the money to pay for the water tank which was only halfway done and donated the rest to food projects for Aids and Special needs groups butterfly operates.

I went on several materials gathering runs to get 4tons of sand which we shoveled into the small truck in the blazing and humid Malawi heat while the locals laughed at us, we then bought over 150dollars worth of cement and over 2000more bricks. the brick run was miserable as i found myself inside a huge lori in the middle of dense bushland in the rain & stuck in the mud for 2 hours as men arrived from all over to help push us and the bricks to the far away road up a hill.

unfortunately even with our hard work, i had to leave the project incomplete. the builder who was known for being a stoner, decided to go behind my back and take on a larger project at a local school but was then caught red faced by the butterfly owner, we were stuck in the mud again (so to say). there i was with a half built tank that could barely hold 100liters and no builder. i have passed the project on to the butterfly owner who is also passionate about permaculture and thus was up for taking it over for me. luckily she has informed me that the tank is built now only that we need to install the guttering, put a lid on it and provide a filter. i'll be able to provide pictures within a month i think when they do a water drinking ceremony.

leaving nkhata bay was one of my most difficult decisions. so hard that i actually extended my visa for a week just to hang out for a few parties i couldn't bare to miss.one party took 30 of us to Kande beach, just south of us 100km. it is a white sand beach where 4 birthdays from around the lake were being celebrated. one birthday boy was a local artist who sung like a blue bird and after seeing me hula hoop on the bar, requested for me to be in his music video he was filming in a month. bad timing on my part i couldn't partake, but what a kool offer. i think i may advertise for such opportunities when i come back next time.

beach volleyball was a riot as my team won 4games in a row but my tanned skin needed mositure so we ran to the clear lake and swam for hours til darkness broke and the partying really began. we were joined on the beach by 5 overland trucks who were celebrating their dress up party which was that night's theme. the bar was crowded yet we managed to take over as usual. even i moved people off of the bar to perform. they begrudgingly glared since they had taken over the counter for the last hour and couldn't imagine why a hula Hooper needed space to spin a ring around her waist. but as i jumped through the hoop, did the splits, and seemingly gave their eyes an orgasm at the never before seen site, they apologetically allowed me more space as they filmed and photographed the wonderful scene. by 2am the barman requested us smelly travelers head to the lake to swim while he restocked and we all ran in without question, most of us in our skibbies for a few games of chicken fight.dawn broke and with no sleep i was beat. back to the bay.

my final week was spent tying loose ends and visiting some site like a local nursery made from a small house. 50 children sat in cramped mud built structure repeating ABC's and singing sweet sounds in Tonga language. my friend lisa donated 50 hand knitted baby dolls to them and handed out chalk which they scribbled on the walls with. the best was when they did exercise class as they all shook their hips and posed in triangle pose for a half hour. feeding time was cramped as i perched between legs trying to deliver hot porridge which they ate so fast they must have burned their lips yet they were satisfied and happy to
be in the presence of some guests.

that night we had karaoke night which was to be my last hurrah! karaoke in Africa was an unforeseen sight. gathering a tv, dj's, speakers etc was as hectic as anything in this town and as usual the police caused us problems as we had hours before the party and no permit for a late night.luckily after strolling the streets seeking advice we ran into the policeman who had since stopped answering our calls and shut off his phone. a local friend of ours, took him to the side and bribed him a night of free drinking for him and a few cronies which sealed the deal.

hours later we were on! people shouted at the top of their lungs, even i got involved for a 20person sing along to Bohemian Raphsody. at 2am i took a sad walk to check on the status of the ferry which i saw had in fact arrived on time, meaning i only 3 hours left to enjoy the bay before departure.

1 hour of sleep and i heard the last horn of the ferry toot its beckoning for passengers. bawling my eyes out the whole way i rushed to the port and climbed aboard. my friends lisa and kwame saw me off as i dangled my head out the circular window as land grew further and further from my reach. i was restless aboard wondering if should alight at the first stop and head back. but i had to commit and thus i spent 15hours aboard the ferry watching the silky lake ripple beneath our craft. bitter sweet the relaxation of its motion with the stress of my departure.

at 9pm we docked in chilumba where i spent the night in the ferry's shed atop of a cement slap with others doing the same. unfortunately a crew of street boys encircled me seeking items they could steel from my until the 60year old security guard came with cuffs and scared them away. some people were prepared with blankets while i just used my pack as a pillow and was luckily so exhausted i slept for a good 4 hours throughout the night.

at 5am i got to transport to the boarder of Malawi and tz and crossed with ease. (i am so excited to speak Swahili again! its an amazing language!!!!!)a few hours later i alighted in the land of mybeya where i was roped in my a bus company to the office for booking. the ticket seller was so drunk he couldn't finish a sentence and barely understood why i was there to see him. i said there's no chance in hell I'm going if your driving, this got a laugh by most of the workers who helped me settle the price and and then escorted to me the guest house of James Bond who i taught to play yahtzee and kept me company.

5am on the bus to arusha Tanzania. a nice bus who offered sweeties and fake juice. i had a 2 seats to myself until halfway through the trip when Stephen a local man and dr. joined me. I found out he is savior in this land practicing reflexology, massage, acupressure, and teaching raw food classes to locals...this was fait. After making a great connection with him, he told me about the 10hectres of land he had acquired and was in the process of turning into a recovery center with a rock garden, using massage and sound therapy for villagers. By the end of our amazing conversation, it was decided that I would return to TZ soon as I could, teach him to do trigger point therapy and act as a facilitator of the center until all staff were trained. I could even make a small profit from my work and he would host my stay in his home and feed me during the process. I was so excited now about the possibilities and while its all such a romantic and far fetched desire, any thing can happy right!

The boarder provided great fun as I crossed with ease and somehow entered Kenya free of charge, the boarder guards were in a good mood that day I guess. I requested a few Maasai goods from the local women selling which got me surrounded by 10ladies who were strapping things on my wrists and removing their own jewelry to offer me. It was a crazy 20minutes as I begged to be left free as i was being given free items and too many things to even carry. I tried to walk to the minibus but was followed by 3more women who continued their offers for a half hour while we wait to leave. the vehicle moved down the road for petrol and was again followed by an old mama who made me laugh so much as she just put items through the window and onto my lap. by then end, she herself was even laughing at her insanity. if i had more money, i would have paid her for the smile she allowed me. but we were off to Nairobi and i was happy to almost be there after traveling for 3 days now.

Arrival in Nairobi was a pleasant surprise. I took lunch with my new friend Steven and shortly after met with Philemon, the Congolese representative and pastor of the Covenant church for Born Again Evangelists. He welcomed me with open arms which is untypical of a man and woman's interaction in Africa but he was so happy to greet me I was appreciative of the welcoming. We got on the train which I was so please by, no petrol fumes, fast, and quiet although cramped with people hanging out the doors.around 50 carrier cars and at least 40 in each, so many people!

At home, I arrived to a large crowd of youth from age 7-15. This was apparently the hang out place, electricity and a 1channel tv showing horribly voiced over Mexican soap operas that i have somehow been roped into feeling entertained by. i loved how the kids all find this place a nice hangout spot. when i can pull them from the airwaves of the tele, i teach them games that usually go horribly wrong like "telephone" which is difficult when English is your second language. For now i have got them hooked "memory" the card game which i made by hand with crayons and scrap paper, the latest hit however has been "rock paper scissors" which proves hilarious as they battle excitedly even with their parents.

Congo home life is wonderful although inconsistent in many ways. Sometimes we do not eat breakfast or dinner, but we usually take a late lunch at 4 or 5 and if there is dinner we eat around 10pm. its more food than i can contain. our meals are predictable-> home made chips (french fries) rice, veg, banana, mango. it sounds delicious but when they have filled my plate for the 3rd time without my request my stomach is in pain. Did i forget to mention the 3 cups of tea (milk and sugar already included) that come with every meal. Sometimes 9cups of tea a day. I could burst at the seems.The concept of eat now cuz you don't know when the next meal will be has really struck a chord with me, thus i am using my fasting skills to maintain my brains desire for 3 meals a day, while i am sure my stomach is gradually gaining elasticity from pushing so much in at one time.

in the 2 bedroom flat,my room is the size of a large bathroom with a mattress on the floor and ants to talk to at night if I am lonely, no mozzi net requiring head to toe cover during sleep hours.my presence has pushed the children into the sitting room which keeps me laughing at night as i hear them giggly with one another. 4kids sharing two mattresses age 7-15. they are hilarious although the language barrier means i never understand why they are laughing. admittedly at 5am their laughing does not make me as happy as i hear them yelling outside my door as they clean the home then prepare for school.

i have been more busy with the Congolese group as we are preparing for a major turn of prosperity for them, hopefully. I have nearly 5 meetings already and i have several more scheduled for my final week here. after the bag making project only halfway succeeded in helping their financial status, we have turned a new page in our project and concluded that small loans for each family to start their individual projects and businesses will be more beneficial. I am extremely adamant about commitment and sustainability however which is creating more work for me but it will add up in the end.

i have researched and luckily found a 3 day training manual for starting small businesses in Kenya for the simple minded folk like me who know little about business affairs. i will be sponsoring the training which we are offering to 35 representatives from each family who will receive a certificate of completion ...which will be a requirement for receiving a loan later. the facilitators guide of 60+ pages is simple and i know i can present the material, however, Congolese people have little English skills,and besides "Merci" and "croissant" my french is shit. thus i have hired two of the highly educated members of the group to facilitate while i aid conceptual understanding on the side. we will be feeding them breakfast and lunch each day and hold a closing ceremony and certificate presentation at the end. today i will got out with my 2hundred dollar budget and buy all the supplies for activities and presentation. thus i will be embarking on a whole new realm of volunteering but one i am more passionate about than i have been a long time.

i have heard some comments about micro loans being unsuccessful and damaging as they put families in dept however i feel that it is because they provide loans to uneducated Africans who's business fail because they do not understand implementation strategies. therefore this training aims to prevent this and the creation of the council of 7 who i have been meeting with have committed to ensure the guiding of the business from beginning to end of until loan repayment.the meetings have been refreshing as i have been able to give advice but i have assured them that i in no way am an owner of this project i am only a support system and a fund raiser.therefore they are empowered to run the project on their own and only seek advice from me when they have not found answers within their own community. when this is translated back to them by Philemon they smile and nod appreciation for the confidence i have in their abilities. it is so refreshing to see them smile and be excited again for their possibility to grow as an independent community.

for now i have approximately 1,000usd i will use to sponsor two families in a business start up. The loans will be paid at 5% and will take about 11/2-2 years to pay off at which point the community bank account will have enough money to sponsor the next family. thus it is my hope that as the cycle completes, the project will be sustaining itself. over the next months in America, i will be seeking sponsorship of 500usd for approximately 10more families and hope to be able to step back at that point and allow the group to maintain itself. although I will get updates, my overall goal will be fund raising and not managing...i have sincerely faith in these born again dedicated humans!

one amazingly funny and surprising meeting was with a sister church where the pastor teaches bible lessons to future evangelist pastors....never did i imagine i would be involved with such church organizations like born again Christians...i giggle inside when i sit with the loud congregation praying to Jesus as i think of the irony of the situation. very kind people however and not pushing their beliefs on me by any means.

the pastor is a wonderful woman named Asa. she took me and Phil back to her house for lunch. Ugali was on the menu (you know that maize flour dough you dip in a small bit of veg) She brought me a fork but i refused cuz its just weird to eat Ugali with a fork, and grabbed a clump of dough, rolled it in my hand dipped and shoveled it in. She stopped dead in her tracks speaking in broken English that she had never seen a white person do this before. she meant, eat ugali like an African. her and Phil talked for awhile in their language as i finished eat but she returned to the subject and abruptly stopped talking as she wiped many tears from her eyes. i guess my ugali rolling technique had really touched her. she cried "i think i have seen a miracle, it is like you are an African but you only have white skin". i didn't know what to do...do i embrace her, laugh, say thank you. it was so odd, but quite sweet of her. after putting herself back together she requested for me to stay the night with her because it may be the biggest blessing she could ask for. ok now it was pedestal-like appreciation, i had to get out of there...so we did. she was a funny chap.

this Congolese family has really taken me in a daughter and in genuinely feel connected to them in a daughter like way. they children seem like my siblings and playing games with them at night and eating meals with them daily has become refreshingly normal. we sit on the couch touching sides comfortably natural as the daughters braid my hair and mama tries to speak English making us all giggle. i feel like our next step should be holiday photos in a studio. i am truly blessed for these beings and i have so much work to do for them back in the USA i do not know how i will manage, but sure I will!!

anyway tonight i head to town to meet my friend jojo for a night of dancing to congolese bands at my favorite joint, simmers while we jive to Lingala and Rhumba tunes. in the morning i will purchase all the training supplies. because of the heavy donation funds, i have overextended my funds and have shortened my trip by 20days. ill be back mid march and will be ready to work....need a nanny?! do inquire!

for now im heaeded down the dusty lane for my daily meal with mama and by next week i will be heading back to my home at Kin in Uganda, but not before a dip in the mighty River Nile, I can't wait!!!

LOVE YOU ALL!!

AFRICAN PROVERB

"WHEN THE MUSIC CHANGES SO DOES THE DANCE"

Christmas controvers,yNew Year's mud wrestling

kena — Fri, 6 Jan 2012 00:10:00 GMT

Life back in Nkhata bay has proved very fulfilling as I expected. The turn of events that has occurred in me with my mental processing of daily life have really acclimated me into the culture here and I have become true friends with some of the locals, I have grown attached to their wellbeing and mine as well. I will explain later about the series of events that have led me into some of the mental confusion.

Back at butterfly I have been working hard at getting several projects up and running. I was originally intimidated by working with the widows sewing group. They have their own African styles and use slightly different skills when working so I did not think I could help properly and assist their tailoring group. However after I noticed how another volunteer was working with them, I decided to take the plunge and begin discussing innovative designs based on the traveller’s needs, travellers being the people who we would target as our consumers. Our first major breakthrough was when we created the utility belt equipped with several pockets for phones, passports, and a few hidden pockets for storing money. It was safe from robbery attempts and has all the needed pockets all in one stylish design with an African flare. They were amazed by what they could make using simple shapes and thus we began an onward path of a program packed full with dedicated sewing ladies. Other items like patchwork belts, aprons, sling bags etc are now being sold in a shop called Mama Malawi.

I have also luckily been awarded the ability to help the shop/cafe, get up and running. Originally created by a German woman who is on holiday back home, the cafe was not ready for operations and it was nearing holiday season meaning high levels of tourists would be passing through. I worked hard to decorate, paint signs, and buy cafe supplies for the grand opening. Just before Christmas we had our first few customers. I had issues with our faulty equipment and was barely able to serve the pancakes and tea ordered but fortunately we had a successful first order and later some guests came and bought other items from us. Mama Malawi was now a successful non profit shop selling the goods for local Malawian women and giving back the profits to the groups and individuals making them. Yay!

The nice part of being allowed to work in the shop is that my work is also coming with a home to stay in. I have moved from the Butterfly hostel into a house with another woman who is running the bar and restaurant called Kaya Papaya. The owner of Kaya Papaya is also the owner of Mama Malawi so we have both been commissioned to help with local businesses here which have helped me really feel like a part of the local community. In the house we have our own rooms, a fully stocked kitchen, a real overhead shower and a private yard we only share with two baby kittens we just got called Dzuwa and Dziko (sun and earth). I can walk around in my underwear if I damn well please, which I would do if our kitchen didn’t completely open to the neighbours back yard where they spend most of their time. For the most part it’s relaxing although we have an unwelcome alarm around 5 am where the entire village seems to pass our house greeting one another. With culture here, you cannot pass without a hello, mind you this is done mostly by yelling not simple chatter. A ‘lie in’ is rare and luckily it gets me up before the heat of the day and allows my daily chores to be completed early.

Another amazing feat is that of the water harvest project I have been dreaming of completing. I found a school which would be perfect for constructing the water tank called Chikale Primary. The butterfly space has taken the campus on as a project for sustainable development and permaculture design. It has basically slowly been transformed into a learning sight with terraced slopes of vegetation and swales demonstrating appropriate growing and construction of foundation. Thus a water catchment tank for harvesting water during dry season is the perfect add on for aiding the growth of their crops. We have had major issues getting the builder up and going but now that we have the bricks and other supplies, we have started the building and expect it to be finished within two weeks. The largest challenge at this point comes to down to the largest issues in Malawi, the cost of petrol. Every time we have to hire a vehicle, we pay more and more for transportation, which means that even the cost of our supplies has risen. By the end of the project I will have spent around 300 dollars more than the original estimate which is around 1,200 US dollars. It is well worth it considering it will last a long time and provide a learning demonstration for the community surrounding the school yard.

Christmas time has brought wonderful change to the bay as well. There is a great air of happiness about as children are out of school and play all day with their self made clans, businesses expect high volumes of consuming, and tourist are bound to arrive ready to put money into the community shops and hostels. For me however, it has opened my eyes to some of the hidden issues of the mixed culture tendencies.

The first fun event we held for the holidays was a school fund raiser fair which allowed children to come pay a small fee to play games where they won a prize, or they could bet on an activity and who ever won could win a master prize. I was in charge of the treasure map where everyone guessed where the treasure was and at the end, I show them the hidden treasure. The prize was a cell phone which made my game one of the obvious favourites. Another awesome game was guessing how many sweeties are in the jar. The winner was a small lad who immediately sprinted away with the jar for fear of having to share his prize. A smart one he is!

The next Christmas happening was the large eve’s party thrown at the Kaya Papaya. I was hired as a work trader to work in the restaurant serving guests a 3 course meal and later bar tend for the hundreds of partiers who arrived. Dinner was great and the party was fabulous. The DJ played great African hits and guests stayed until am dancing their hearts out. Brain and body exercise, I could barely keep up. My feet hurt like hell and I went to bed in the morning having mathematic calculations of beers and mixed drinks swirling in my mind.

The following day, we joined the crew at Butterfly Space for a Christmas dinner on the shore. We sat atop dugout canoes and ate lush veggies, homemade rolls, skewers, hummus while the others ate a roasted goat. I loved the reaction of a few who refused eating the goat after they had spent 3 nights at the hostel making friends with him. They couldn’t bear eating their new pal thus opted for a veggie meal. I wished at that moment that everyone had to make friends with their animals before they slaughtered them. Can you imagine what our consumption of meat would be like if we were required to kill our own meals? I can only dream.

Food was tasty, but I unfortunately had a revelation sitting there being served by the staff and having to order from my best friend, the bar man who is a local Malawian man. First of all, they were all there to serve us on Christmas day rather than being with their families. We are self sufficient humans capable of making our own meals and this is when I realized they should have been allowed they day off or at least a shortened shift. The next issue is that, we were all consuming foods these workers would never consume in their lifetime. We decked our plates out with lush well rounded meals while the workers had to watch and even prepare the goat which they never even got a taste of. I found out later that night that some of them were not even given a meal for dinner. I went to the bar to be in a quiet space for a think on my won but instead had to listen to complaining from the staff who, although they knew it wasn’t my fault, knew that I was one of the crew who they were feeling persecuted by. I felt both sides of this mental struggle. Business is business so the hostel came first, but we are supposed to be more than a hostel. It’s a centre built on the premise of guests and volunteers become a part of the greater community in hopes of sustaining projects of empowerment. I struck a strong point of confusion and disappointment after this xmas celebration.

It is in our tradition as westerners to eat lavish foods and have ceremonial activities that are uncommon to our daily lives so we all felt compelled to create the same scenario while in Africa. But I also felt ashamed to see that we did not invite the locals to also experience this aspect of our culture. I say merry Christmas to the Malawians and they all say “not at all actually”. I felt awkward asking why because I already know, no money, no gifts, a normal day at work etc....

Although I cannot take back my actions and I don’t feel compelled to change the behaviours around me, I still feel a deep seed inside me which will one day attempt to create an equal plane for the community here in the bay. I will hope that if this is going to be my home for some time that I can become acclimated into their culture more deeply and feel their struggles and their joys as they will hopefully do the same with mine.

The following week has been one of my best in the bay. We are all anxious for the New Year to arrive. Party on because this year could be our last right?.......no but really I think I partied like it was my last for a long time. At butterfly space, they played New Years around the globe. Every two hours or so there was a different way to celebrate, Australian barbe q, Japanese Sake shots and sushi, Thai bucket beers etc. I did a hula hoop performance for the crew and quickly raced down to the Kaya Papaya bar where I was once again serving drinks and entertaining for New Year’s festivities. I spent the week prior making hand drawn signs advertising for the event and preparing confetti and other wonderful party favours.

When the rain came at 10 we knew we were in trouble as making it down the muddy hill was sure-fire party stopper...we all rejoiced when we saw the stars in the distance and knew the storm was passing us. By 10:30pm we had our party crew which soon doubled and then tripled in size and we were now on track for nonstop beer serving for the next 10 hours. I could barely keep up. 3ladies behind the bar, 2 guys delivering one crate after another, and another doing crowd control. We nearly missed the new year but luckily I put my customers on hold for 5min to check the time just before the clock struck midnight. I hopped on the bar with the mic while Prince’s ‘party like its 1999’ rung in the background. Confetti flew everywhere, poppers set off on all sides and the new year had arrived.

All customers continued dancing for the next 3 hours until the musical amp broke for 30 min and most people were over the wait and went home. Luckily it gave me a breath of air as beer sales reduced with only 40 or so customers remaining. I was able to sneak out every few hours to dance and by sunrise the 20 person party crew was still outside dancing. By 5am the village was passing us by with goods atop their heads, produce in their bags, and wonder on their faces they were ready to begin their typical Sunday market routine. I climbed atop a chair and we sung together Bob Marley’s one love, which truly encompassed the feeling of unity as locals and tourists joined in the experience even a security guard, a police officer, and a soldier hopped on the deck. As the hours wore on we lacked no energy and the town just thought us crazier and crazier.

When the rains came, we didn’t faulter but rather rejoiced its bath and even partook in the soily experience of mud wrestling. I started the event but was completely beat out when my roommate tackled me into the soggy leaves and smeared my entire face. Children sat around not knowing if they could laugh or worry for our sanity. In the end we reached a stalemate and I couldn’t speak to her without laughing at her muddy face not knowing until later how bad I looked. I tried to leave around 9pm but was quickly chased down for another hour of dancing and singing. Unfortunately a crew went off to town for more partying while I had to walk home alone with no partner to share my muddy embarrassment. Everyone passing stopped and sounded concerned thinking I had been beaten or worse. I just kept a smile on my face and after washing my hair for an hour and not reaching successful leaf extraction, I gave up and got a good 3 sleep.

This week I have gotten more supplies for the water tank which we will hope is ready for use within two weeks hopefully catching the end of the raining season and I will be finishing most of my teaching methods for tailoring in the next two weeks and the women can sustain their project without aid. Luckily a new volunteer has arrived with excellent knitting skills and the women can vary their crafty hand and become a fused creative operation.

Earlier in the month I put out a call for support for my friend (Kwame Falo Phiri) who is attempting to flee Malawi for a job opportunity up north near Kilimanjaro. I have paid for his passport with a double the price bribe attached and I requested help with his transport and start up cost which has come in quickly from my friends and family. People have really been great about sharing a few dollars here and there and my wonderful mother gave her 100dollar Christmas check to donate to his travels. I am so lucky to be surrounded by such wonderful family and friends. As soon as Kwame receives his passport we will be able to take off for Tanzania where he will stay and work while I will stay for one week near Kilimanjaro and then head north to Kenya to join my Congolese refugee group for a wonderful reunion.

I will send an update as soon as I progress and regrettably leave my Malawian home. I will be back however cash willing by September to participate in the Lake of Stars festival again and do more work at Butterfly Space. Anyone wanting a little African adventure in the beautiful shore lined beach style life in Malawi, let me know, we’ll make a party out of it. See you all in 2012!!

zambia cut short, malawi's breath of fresh air!

kena — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 21:16:00 GMT

My last days spent in Malawi were that of fun, rewarding, sadness. I finished the school mural and went on some interviews with a local village for story telling which I will put on the website being created by the managers at Butterfly Space. We are attempting to create an around the globe folk story pod cast and live stream where traditional and new stories from different backgrounds are being shared as a way of cultural exchange. I am very happy to be a part of it and will thus take part in some more interviews and also illustration of these stories.

After being with the children who are suffering from Cerebral Palsy, a result of untreated malaria, I feel empowered to get trained in massage therapy targeting such ailments. By learning to stretch and strengthen these muscles, I will be able to pass on routines that are set for preventing ultimate unuse of these limbs. It is one of the first times I have actually felt so passionate about a progrm revolving around massage therapy and how it can be implemented in Africa. I am smiling for the benefits that my schooling might actually aid me in here.

I decided to take off on an adventure to Zambia. Its a large country filled with distant villages and secluded lives in the bush, with an opposing spectrum of the natural wonder, Victoria Falls. My friend Jack is there and so we planned a reunion, we have not seen one another for nearly 6years since college. I was excited and enthusiastic however sad to leave Malawi. Yet travelling even on hot smelly busses always irk me, the act of movement is required for my happiness where as stagnancy can pain my soul. So yay, a ticket to Zambia and off I went!

My first bus was from Lake Malawi to the capital. It should take 5hours to arrive, however the bus carrying 65 seated passengers and nearly 30 standing squished in the aisle on top of the children and babies on laps and luggages dangling on for their dear life, allowed us arrival at about 12hours later. Oh my what did I get myself into. Anyway I arrived in the capital Lilongwe and did a couch stay for 2 days with a lovely family running the organization warm heart travels. It was fun as the man there allowed me to go out to the bush with him where we visited a sponsored family and took them for a ride in the car. My heart smiled when they attempted to alight from the car without knowing how to open the door. They pressed the body against the door hoping it would pop open without using the handle. I loved this rural life and the new experience they were embarking with me next to them. So lovely.

Later that day, I was contacted by my friend Sam who is was my angel who saved me after the robbery. He helped me call my parents and got me to western union and the police station to sort myself after my trumoil at the festival a month earlier. I left with no contact info and no way to reach him yet my parents got a call from him and I found he was searching for news about how I was now a month later. Luckily he lives in the capital so I met up with him and said my thanks for his grateful contribution to my safety. We plan to meet in a month or so when I returned.

Early morn I got in a minibus to the boarder. I got stuck when I found that the boarder patrol would not take my malawian or zambian money. They require US dollars. However there were no US dollars in Malawi, and the nearest bank in Zambia had just ran out of them. If I wanted to pay, I would pay at least 2dollars worth of Malawian money to get 1usd. NOT WORTH IT...this was sign number 1, I shouldn't leave Malawi. Anyway, after calling their chief, and me giving my robbery sob story, I was let through no problem. I loaded into a small sedan meant for 5 people. WE managed to fit 3fat ladies, myself, and 4 lengthy men, two of them sharing the drivers seat and leg space at the wheel. Of course this was illegal so we had to take a diversion down a bumpy side road and rickety wood bridge, every bump scraping the undercarriage, I was sure we would brake the car sending me into a flurry of stranded stress, yet within 20minutes we made it to Chipata where I caught a bus to Lusaka (zambian capital city).

After dark, I arrived and caught a cab to the Mogal guest house where peace corps often stay. The nicest place I have stayed in Africa, meaning they had a fan and carpet,,,no power though and cold water, still comparable to other joints I have stayed for sure. I spent the next few days with the Peace corps crew, a rude awakening. Well peace corps does amazing things in fact, the volunteers work extremely hard and long but of course this is Africa so there are many days of rest and play. They mostly build and live in their own mud huts but they are given a considerable amount of money to furnish their home. They also get paid 300usd a month to use however they wish, completely free medical care throughout their stay, discounts on all major brands like north face, oh and a 6,000dollar start up cash bonus at the end of service....hmmm volunteering or a job? Even at that, some of them complain its not enough, this is of course the heavy drinkers who want plush beers and nice foods. Volunteers, uh huh.

I guess this is why my friend was amazed when I told him we would be constructing a water tank for the school in Malawi. 'Oh you got a grant huh?' I retorted with, 'Umm no, I pay for it in fact'. Shut him up fast. Basically in the peace corp if you want to implement something, cash is on hand at most given requests. I know I sound harsh but for as much as the peace corps do for the area, I still find it crazy to say its a volunteer program with all the bonuses I see happening. Anyway, they are well respected in the area and at least they have a history in Zambia for sustainable works.

Next few days we traveled down to the boarder of Zimbabwe to Livingstone, a huge tourist town right on the edge of the natural wonder "Victorie Falls". On the bus, I got my first flash of unwelcoming, a man saw 2 inches showing on my legs and must have felt sexually arroused by me, or disrespected because he told me to cover up because only prostitutes dress like that. HMMM breathe...Next I accidently touched a mans leg when I was grabbing my bags, again, arroused or what? He growled "don't touch me legu' ". Maybe I should just go back home to Malawi now i thought.I could see if I were claiming blasphemy on the word of Jesus Christ they could be mad, but come on, I am a tourist headed to a hostel in the largest tourist town in Zambia...a prostitute? that is from your own mind sir!

Anyway I got over it and we headed to the hostel, I was in a bad mood though. My friend jack didn't help so much because he seemed to be competing with me. We were both sharing biased views, I was in love with Malawi and he with Zambia and he therefore countered every comment I made with "well in Zambia bla bla bla..." Like when I went out in my typical peace colors (red, yellow, green) and got the usual response, what I consider shouts of compliments and he said "if you keep wearing that you're going to get that a lot here. Rastas arent respected here." To which I said, "until I am dead, you won't find me without these colors, they are my religion" Come to find out from the locals that in fact just like Malawi, Rastas in Zambia are regarded as peaceful people in the community. My friend who'd been living in the village for too long was having an opinion that I was no longer trusting after several similar comments that I inquired about from the locals. I thought it best to keep my distant as much as possible for awhile during this trip and find my own zambian experience.

The first day, a group of us headed out to Vic Falls for devils pool. A 2km walk and we were at the stream of massive water flow. One step too far and you would be rushed over the edge. Apparently many people commit suicide over the edge there, no chance of survival whatsoever. We took turns jumping into the 3meter deep natural pool formed by rocks. On the edge, we dangled our bodies and heads over the edge watching the water run down while the guide held our legs to prevent our deaths. What a rush. The adventure back home was intense as a storm brewed and we were caught in thunderstorms and lightning striking only football field distances from us. We could see our guide was scared and the water rained so heavily we were soaked within 5minutes and had to use him as a bridge across a dangers ravine to get to safety. "I don't like lightning" he said. That night he found us as the hostel and told us a nearby village was struck by the lightening, a woman and baby stood and were struck and killed as we had been crossing the rocks...natures power yet again revealed.

That night I met an eclectic group of a man from New York, an English girl, a South African boy, and German lad. We all got along so well and sat for hours entertaining eachother with stories and laughs of our travels. 3 of them told me they were traveling to Malawi and I just wished so much I was going with them. Malawi was ever in my dreams.

The following day, I headed to the gorge near the falls where I participated in several life threatening forms of amusement. First I abseiled down the 70meter gorge frontward, and backward, fast and fun, the 25min walk out was tough but beautifully desert like and filled with lizards and strange noises. Next was the zipline, I did this too many times to count and it was so quiet I could sit above giggling to myself like a child. Finally, the famous gorge swing. Worse than a bungee many claim. First time is easier than the second I was told, but I didn't believe it. So first swing I went backwards, I tried to scream but the air was sucked from my throat and grasped for dear life as I free fell for 5 seconds, doesn't sound like long eh? you try it...I thought I could s*** my pants right there. Dear god that was horrible but fun. Next, forwards jump. WAAAAAAY worse. I knew what was about to happen to me and this time I had to physically step off the edge onto nothingness. I couldn't control my legs which ran in the air seeking to grasp at something. I was freaking out man....ok enough feats of living life dangling from a rope. I was over it. My night was spent swimming in the chlorined white water pool and trying to calm my nerves at the hostel. For three days I ate rice, bananas, bread and peanut butter while the peace corp people lavishily dined. They deserve it but man my envy kicked in.

The worst part of being with my friend who had planned for me to do volunteer work in his village, was realizing that in fact, because of the holidays and a big event happening in December, I would basically be a bi standard and not get to participate in the events they were holding. Ok, had I known, I could have researched and found my own program but I think Jack was just eager to share his projects with me, I don't blame him but I was over the experience of resting. I wanted to work!

After meditating for 3 days, I decided I was over Zambia and I would head back to Malawi early. I went to the local market on my last day which was by far the best part of my trip. It wasn't the tourist market but rather a 4-6km walk out of town to the second hand, hand made, local goods market. I found fabrics galore and most unique to any I had ever seen. I got 1meter for less than a dollar and no one was trying to weasel money from me. One man even gave me back my money as I accidentally handed him 5times the amount I owed. This is the true Zambia I was seeking, yet now I would leave soon. awe...still my heart pounded with the thought of my Malawian reunion.

I broke the news to my friend,who I think understood before I said it that I was ready to leave. I boareded the bus with the German lad from our new friendly crew and headed north to Lusaka. After parting, I was on my way on a bus to Lilongwe (malawian capital) On the bus I met a kind Congolese man who was in the logging biz ( i bit my tongue and enjoyed his company) He bought me lunch and we talked for hours about Rhumba music and the congo culture. At the boarder the Malawian man said "back so soon huh? How long do you want to stay?" I replied "Can you just put down 'forever' please" He laughed and gave me a free month, but I was serious, a forever stam was what i wanted!

In Lilongwe, I found I was a bit stranded as the couch surf I scheduled wasn't answering his phone and my phone wasn't sending text properly. I was stuck. Somehow my angel Sam called at that very moment to see how Zambia was.After telling him I was in Malawi and explaining my plight he hung up and called back within 20mins to say his family was going to keep me for as long as I needed. Sam doesn't live there so I felt a bit strange but I could care less as long as I wasn't in another guest house.

At Sam's parents home, they apologized several times for the lack of running water and cemented floors as they were still fixing up the place. I giggled at their thoughtful nature but assured them I needed nothing more than a safe place to rest. For the next two days, I was woken by mama at 6am and given a new towel slippers and a hot drawn bath in a real bath tub they had never even used. By 8pm mama came to me for another bath. Two warm baths a day! Was I in a five star hotel?! They told me I was their last born child and Ive already made plans to come stay for at least a month and volunteer at the orphanage mama helps out in in september. We sat each night watching Church Emmanuel which is a self proclaimed Nigerian profit who lays his hand on people as they gyrate on the floor claiming the devil is in them. With one touch he is able to heal them...im only amazed that people actually believe this 24hour broadcast. They even have segments where people hold signs saying 'Jesus bought me a Nissan truck' gag me now. Oh well its entertaining for 20mins I guess and I love to be with my new family so I put up with it.

I was finally able to get my passport and traveled a bit in Lilongwe on my own. When you can safely travel in capital city, it says something great about the country. Yay Malawi!! Sitting outside the super market where I had just bought fancy rice cakes and tahini, I was waiting for my ride and was approached by and old man selling his paintings. This is where my heart sank. I told him I had no money, because in many ways I still don't since I don't have a bank card. But he convinced me at least to look at the art which was gorgeous. I felt so strange eating something this man would never eat, not even pitching him a few bucks, and trying to ignore his 30min long presence as my guilt sank in. If you give to one, you must give to many I thought so I didn't pay him but here is where my heart gets confused. I just didn't know what to do at that point. I went home and forgot the old man but even sitting here now I regret my decision because it's not a youth selling wares, it's an old man who is obviously having no other means of survival. Life is so confusing sometimes.

Next day was back to Nkhata Bay, my malawian lakeshore home. I surprized everyone as I told them I would be there later and arrived early. I snuck to the bar and surprized the barman (my bes friend) and he was sooo excited to see me. The night was followed by a great few games of mafia around the dinner table and a nice relaxing night in the tent at Butterfly Space. I was back at home with my family here on the bay and jumping into the lake was like a babtismal connection with my soul.

What I learned from my travel away, was that we can visit a place for a new experience, but we can never forget what our heart actually yearns for. As I left Malawi, I also left project behind I intended to complete when I came back, I left friends who I may never see again, and I left the sanctuary of my hearts resting place. I am on a search for the place I want to spend most of my African experience in. Other than exploration, I had no reason to leave Malawi. An Ethiopian proverb explains it well...

One should never try to climb two trees just because he has two legs.

-Ethiopian proverb

I agree!

Love you all. More journal coming soon!

slowly slowly, partying a bit, hula hooping, a future in malawi?

kena — Tue, 25 Oct 2011 00:13:00 GMT

One would think I would be used to this by now but gtting used to the africa time again, has been one of the hardest parts of my stay as of now. Of course the change of pace of city life vs the bay side life has been incredibly wonderful. I can step out of dorm each morning usually by 5am as the sun is blasting heat and light, do yoga in a sweaty haze, meditate to the white noise as wave splash pon the rocks at my side...and this is all so heavenly. But when I step out of the zen state and try to do the hands on work for a community center, school, etc, I find that time takes a toll on my soul. Here I do not create my own program and thus must work along side programs which have already started. In fact this can be great as the Malawians are used to having interaction and partipatory events and thus more can be achieved. I guess what it really comes down to is the actual hump of getting there. I have been waiting and waiting for projects to do and there is so much to be done yet getting in there has been a great challenge.

I helped finish the beginnings of the community radio station which is currently in phase two where they are putting electrical wiring in and also doing some cleanup on the space with building of infrasctructure. The group is also holding classes to train people in sound technology and musical appropriation. This is fantastic yet I know I will not be here to see its fruit until probably 2012 arrives. Slowly slowly.

Recently I have gotten involved with the nursery school which had been protesting when I arrived on the fact that we (butterfly space) were trying to remove sugar and salt from the porridge served each day for health issues. The typical day of 40+ children was now reduced to 10 and we were in a crisis of power. The mothers saw the move as a stingy means of saving money, while we actually ended up spending more on the bananas we substituted. Eventually, a meeting was held and we had to back down on the decision and comprimise on reduced amounts. In Africa sugars are considered an essential part of diet and no explanation of our own cultural views would have changed their minds. The biggest result is that everyone had to put the childrens needs of education first and therefore the mothers were happy when we decided to keep the menu as before. I work in the classrooms painting the cement floors with bright circles in order to create stations that are used for learning stations. When you have 25 students, 1 small classroom and 1 teacher, it is essential for the students to do individual learning without support of Mzungu (white people) volunteers, or one on one time with teachers. We hope this will allow personal growth and dicipline as well...who knew colorful circles on the floor could be so useful! I worked saturday and sunday on this project only to return later and find red foot prints all over the class...I should have stood guard while it dried, this being typical for an unlocked open air classroom I guess.

Partying in Malawi has also been one of my favorite memories thus far. Being in this wonderful Butterfly Space community has really made me feel at home. We work like a cooperative house often doing projects together, volunteering locally, getting involved with project planning and group brain storming, shared meals, and of course all night dance parties. There is a wonderful routine here where when one of the family leaves to their homeland, we will have a going away bash. My first experience was a few weeks ago when a dj mate here was leaving to England. The party insued with incredibly maddness of dancing, singing, emotional speeches, hugs, huge cuddle puddles in the middle of the dance floor, and laughing to the point where I lost my voice for a few days.Having made a travel Hula Hoop, I brought that to the party which surprizingly got used for at leat 3 hours through the night by the randoms who walked in and the butterfly crew. We even played games with it and I loved most that people were never embarrassed by failure but tried continually. There is a certain air of comfort that is present here at Butterfly but specifically in Africa which is like a free bird just learning to fly its wings, like a mother bird whoh will take care of you in case you fall. This family shines with that type of support, what a blessing.... Being that I was one of the only sober folk in the room, I was also able to sit back and watch the show all night long until the wee morning hours. A group of us stayed until sunrise which was my first experience in Nkata Bay. We are so lucky to be here. Perched pon the rocks we watched at 430 AM as the sun spoke its vows of morning bliss as we laughed loved and meditated to the waves and the rays. By half 5, people were ready to pass out....I, unfortunately had work to do.

I had been planning to teach the Hot Box cooking meathod to the HIV/Aids, Widows group, and Kitchen staff here but it had been delayed twice. So they chose the saturday after our big party to meet at 11am. Not so early except I had planned to present Hot Boxed Beans as well as rice and veggies. So at 530AM I gathered supplies and wood and with the help of the night guard and bar tender, I started cooking beans galore. Man oh man is it hard to function with tired eyes being sprayed with blasts of smoke and having danced all night my body was not cooperating. But eventually the fire caught and by 630 AM the beans were boiling and ready for the Hot Box. I passed out and woke again at 11AM. Our group met together and I showed them hands on how to Hot Box the rice while the chef made us our veggies. When the time came, I opened the Hot Boxes and they all leaned close with their skeptical eyes and in their local tounge said something to the effect of “oh my god, it works” They all clapped and I got those shivery feelings again of satisfaction as I hoped they would use the technique not only for the sake of their time, but for the reduction of the use of mother earth's trees. After 3 days of fire assistance though, I have finally become independent and can official gather my own wood, make my own fire and cook an entire meal sustainably, locally, and satifyingly!

On mondays the first half of my day is filled with a gathering of youth with special needs. There are a few who are diagnosed but the rest just seem to struggle walking, talking, thinking etc. 2 can't even walk and 1 has a wheel chair that I can't see how it even works on these unpathed roads but somehow they manage. They all gather to get support from one another emotionally and educationally. They are smiling constantly and I am soo impressed by what they can actuallly handle each day. Many of them I believe are in a position where they have never really been listened to. They have much to say, but can't vocalize it. But you can crack a joke and they squint with laughter. They are also so special because they maintain no boundary. When they feel something they show it. No shame. Its empowering to see this no holds bar ability they have and its quite a lesson to see how they all treat one another with such kind patient behavior.

Today we taught them about time and things you do throughout the morning, noon, evening etc. We made clocks and did work on times of the day. I worked with a little girl, Chrisitina who is around 5yrs. I believe she has severe lordosis and has trouble physically. But she is so young that she can probably reverse or alleviate it with appropriate stretching. I think this was the first time I really felt so inspired to use my Massage background. I spoke to the director about possibly becoming trained on specific areas like cerebral pasly which is a major issue linked with malaria maltreatment here. She assured me that if someone were willing to do home visits weekly, they would find willing parents who would love to have their children get physical support for their unique issues,,,the wheels in my head are turning.

So after time work, I took them out and we did yoga. They pretty much giggled the entire time which then turned in to laughter yoga as I couldn't maintain a straight face. They absolutely loved it and it was simple quick and effective in getting some of them moving. After a short lunch, they all worked together to make banana milk shakes with a splash of sugar, powder milk, banana, and water. This just enclosed the wonderfully unique chance the kids get to feel spoiled when they would otherwise have been forgotten in a society which doesn't quite know what can be done with them. They can even hula hoop with their own unique style! I am soo proud of Butterfly Space.

I have a few more weeks left here but just got the news that I will be headed back just before christmas. A local business has hired me on a work trade position to return for the party planning and bar tending experience for the high season during the holidays. I needed a reason to return to Malawi and why the heck not for an experience of fun and entertainment. I will also work to create a special holiday volunteer program for the kids here, maybe a movie night or dance party for the local schools. YAY for the holiday celebrations.

As for me, I have found my favorite country so far. Although I am sure its biased seeing how the whole trip is culminated by my being here in Nkata Bay. The small township is respectful and welcoming to locals on top of having a great shorline to swim on each day. At night one has the chance to sit pon the shore and watch the twinkling lights from the lake coming from the night fisherman who have their lanterns perched atop of their dug out canoes (hence the term, lake of stars). The rasta culture is quite fascinating and I am surprizingly happy to find true Rasta culture where most are vegan and are very artisitc. They see me with my shining stripes and can't wait to strike up a conversation. Although I have learned that when I am in a rush, I have to hide all my rasta catour(sp?)But the great thing is, the community sees Rastas here as peace makers, and my colors as peace colors which is quite refreshing. I have made friends with a local vegan resturant (really a beach shack) owner named Rasta Mike. I am painting him a sign in trade for a few meals of rice beans, and traditional veggies in ground nut sauce.

Besides the occasional annoying factors like the huge petrol crisis in this land locked country and the black market fuel we have to purchase to drive for one hour to the city, and the immigration officer with his cheeky grin as he asked for a bribe which I refused, I am loving it here.I feel like I can return to this place over and over again and will most likely try to plant my foot here for a few years at least...things can change I know, but its one of those things you just have a good feeling about. The local barman, and outstanding business student and I have been scheming biz ideas and last night we settled on a possible proposal for the first ever lounge. Tanzi (health) Lounge with unique herbal teas, japanese style seating, cyber internet access and private space for biz meetings and work space...there is no where like it and I actually have faith in its potential. Anyway this all being an exciting feeling in my gut chakra while meditating on the “warm heart of africa”...

to Malawi anyone?

Again to Malawi Lake, dread locks, gluten free

kena — Fri, 14 Oct 2011 18:31:00 GMT

I’ve taken off from Lilongwe (capital city) and have arrived in a bay called Nkata. It’s a quaint fishing community on the shores of Lake Malawi where people are smiley, artistic, laid back, and goofy. I’ve planted my foot in a backpackers hostel/volunteer center called “Butterfly Space” where we have a large mix of travellers, volunteers, and locals are working to improve community standard of life while enriching artistic movements. I’ve been blessed to learn about how and why other travellers are on their adventure.

Butterfly space is very in-to permaculture and sustainable practices and therefore offers support to the community for new techniques like stoves and toilets that are more efficient. So when I brought to them this idea of teaching the “hot box” method for saving 75% of firewood, they were stoked. So tomorrow morning, I will be meeting with a group of around 30 women from the HIV/Aids and Widow group who will learn how to cook in a hole or a basket. We’re also going to enjoy a group lunch together afterwards. I am looking forward to the thrill I get from opening that pot of rice and showing them the cooked food which we only spent 5minutes preparing. YAY!

Within one week I’ve been able to meet 4 different groups of bike tourists. One is going Cape Town South Africa to Italy while another is an amazing couple doing 2 years on bike touring all of Africa and with a tent. They don’t travel light either, they’ve included two accordions, a flute, a didgeridoo, a watercolour paint set and a whole supply of cooking gear. I am very inspired by their efforts to live on the land and share their talents in every setting they arrive upon.

At the centre, I find composting toilets set above a high rise where you can take a poo while watching the waves crash ‘pon the shores as canoeing fishermen send out their spears. They also have tiki like dorms mounted upon stilt frames where I share a room with world class characters from Germany and the UK. I’ve even picked up speaking in British terms like ‘wanker’ and ‘quite splendid’… I quite enjoy proper English!

The first few days were filled with back breaking work. Structure here are typically built with large rocks and boulders packed with cement and we were on a mission to break it down. They have decided to start the first ever Tonga radio station in the village paired with a recording studio that will be used by young singers and musicians in the area in hopes to get their music produced. So for 2 days we had a crew of 6 using sledge hammers and chisels and our bare hands to knock down walls and remove debris. My arms and legs have never been so soar but its nice to sweat out the heavy African food being served each day. We also have a sound engineer volunteering here who has already started classes with the community to teach them about sound and equipment use, this project is moving quickly and I will probably be here for the finalizing of the room and I am so happy.

The chef here is named happy and as I get to know more locals, I have found that most of the people here have similar names like Fortune and Precious. Most people live up to their given name and its quite unique. I have been going by the name Dzuwa named for the sun in Malawi’s Chichewa language. I even found out that I have the same name as the Malawian futbol coach, named Kinnah, they giggled at first and thought I had taken his name.

What I find unique and special about the community here, is that although people are moving about coming and going, everyone is so welcoming and kind. Within the first day or two, you find that all the staff know your name and greet you inquiring about your life and what you’re doing or how you are feeling. Each evening we sit at a long table and have conversations over tea while we’re waiting for our gourmet meals served in family style setting. I have mostly enjoyed the food here but have officially claimed my gluten intolerance. I still find myself eating it in small portions here maybe once a week, but I pay for it with a stuffed up nose about 15minutes after consumption but its difficult when youre not able to prepare you own meals. After dinner, most people head to the bar for a smoke or a sip of gin where the party often goes on til sunrise, which I quite like since I do 5am yoga and get to sit on the sandy shore as the partiers are just heading to bed. Its quite a jolly cycle of work then play that seems very efficient for the projects we have going here.

Yesterday I made some makeshift hula hoops and took them to the after school program which is a wooded area above butterfly space. It is equipped with a hanging footbridge, a rope ladder, a cemented stage for plays, and a whole room of books and games that have been donated over the last 4 years. Its overall a safe space for kids to play together before dusk. The kids saw me do 3 performances and then took their own chance. One 5year old boy created a unique style of his own as he twirled in a circle with a hoop on his hip rather than it twirling around him…it looked great though. Another young girl popped that hip with expertise and grace, she’s a complete natural. I am hoping to swing some more advanced moves into the lessons although a few of them have already got it down.

Last night, I was sitting the bar with the sound engineer who has gorgeous long thick hair, and he started to explain about wanting to dread his hair for the last few years. I shyly smiled after he said he was going to the local rasta shop on the path and was going to pay to have it made…then he looked at me and said ‘unless you want to do it?’ Hell yes! I was soo excited so for the next 2.5 hours I played on his head and made about 18 dreads, the funny part of our time in the bar was that near the end there were 10 of us and 8 of us had dread locks. It was a dready party and I have found this area of Malawi to have more dready/rasta culture than anywhere else I have travelled. Usually I wouldn’t like that so much, but apparently Rasta’s in the community are considered the peace makers and their colours are peace colours so when I walk the path to town they shout peace lady and I quite like the appeal of this title.

Overall I have been swimming in the lake daily as the water is fresh and clean and although I have to wash my hair more often, I typically step out of the lake feeling sinless and pure. At night one can see eyes roaming on the darkened rocky shore…the rock Hyraxi that are like lake hamsters maybe equivalent to a nutria although a bit nicer and less mutated. The dogs here are also interesting, not quite like a pet but still engaged with their dedication to their owners. Nature is just quite breathtaking and so are humans, I am continuing to learn each day. More photos and videos soon to come….

Faith in Fait...and thats all

kena — Thu, 6 Oct 2011 21:29:00 GMT

WOW. What in the bloody hell just happened to me. I don't even know where to begin. But lets preface this with, wow life is amazing (that can be good and bad) and I am so thankful for fait, which if I didn't believe in it before, I sure as hell believe in it now, I'd be a fool not to.

So I am in the airport in Kenya, a man walks past and says "lake of stars" and points to me, I smile because, how could he know I was going there. Well anyway it was kool so I get even more excited for the festival. I saw a girl alone in the lobby and said I must talk to her, I forced myself to introduce myself, only to find out she was also going to the festival. She is from the UK, name is Miriam. She is being picked up in Malawi at the airport by someone who has a hired a driver to take care of her until the festival...funny. But thats the African way sometimes. Later I see the man who shoutted at me "lake of stars". He is a Malawian business man named Mixon, hes an artist, and traveller. He's been in China ordering construction parts...grrr. But hey, to each their own. Biz is Biz. He's older, funny, and kind, so we exchange emails.

At the airport, I am worried, everyone's bags are taking over and hour to claim. And I don't really know how I am supposed to get to the festival from the airport which is 4 hours away. But I was told to look for a shuttle which will cost 50 dollars. I find several others who are in the same boat and we find the shuttle. Its a rip off they scam us for 80dollars each. Annoying but at least I am on my way. I sit next to an Aussie girl who is studying in South African girl named Jaimie, shes fun and down to party, I like her already. Later people are being dropped off at their previously reserved lodges, I cannot find my info about where I am booked to stay, nor can anyone from the organization find my registration. At one lodge, I go in and find a reservation for girl called "nina lex"...I refuse to accept that they could have messed up that bad and I continue down the road arriving and the last lodge and campsite, but great I have no reservation and no tent and the lodge is completely booked...I am stranded. Jaimie has told me if things don't work out, I can stay with her for the night in her tent. Well I end up loosing her in the unorganized mess at the lodge. I am now officially freaked out. Somehow I find her in the dark. I tell her whats going on, so we set up camp in a location that is apparently incorrect and we are sweaty, smelly, and hungry. By 1130, we realize we are in the wrong spot and we have to walk 2 kilometers to the new and correct campsite. I help set up camp, and am officially over it! She passes out and I stay up for a too expensive dinner with her southafrican guy friends who are funny and sarcastic like me. But now..we want to rest. Luckily its warm because all I have is small travel blanket and pillow.

The next morning, I am still trying to track down my reservation, but theres no such existance. Jaimie kindly offers me her tent for the weekend which saves money anyway and im closer than expected to the fest with a great crew to hang with. Plus is beach camping, morning swims are required! We get in the clean calm fresh water of Lake Malawi. Woo Hoo. The festival has finally begun. We lounge around and I meet our neighbors, Mike (a mixed creature of malawian decent, currently living in Canada) and Al (also a vegan who is finding food options difficult). They are fun, and within minutes tell me that they have space in their truck if I want to travel a bit after the fest. I am soo down!

The music begins late in the day, I hoop to the sunset around 6:30. Later the reggae pulses and I hoop some more. My crew runs off for food and I am requested by an Aussie couple to hoop for them as they photograph me. As soon as I finish, we sit to review the photos. A drunken man in front of me wants to hoop so I hand it off, another taps me eagerly from behind, and a bit too hard so I ignore him. They finally leave, but within minutes I realize there is something wrong, my back pack which was right next to me is gone. Did I leave it somewhere or did it get taken...it was the latter, people around noticed this scene and chase to find the men, but in the dark night its impossible.

In total, Passport 100usd dollars, 75 Malawian dollars, Debit card, ID, Camera and 5memory cards, Phone (which was never used)

I run to the police who direct me to the police headquarters at the fest. The man there laughs at me and tells me to sit down. He does this 3 times. Each time I get up pleading for him to hurry and help, he says he has told someone to come help but he is lying. So ask for a peice of paper, I write my info and story and I run away to the main stage. They rush a message on the mic for me and announce the situation. I run to the festival headquaters and explain and they are soo sorry for me and take my info. The lodge there lets me use the comp. So now mid festival I am having to research what to do when things like this happen.

I contact my friends and family, the embassy, and find out I can only replace the passport in Lilongwe, the Malawian capital. Luckily, I get an email from Mixon, the Malawian man I had met on the airplane, he lives in Lilongwe and is online, so I tell him what happens. He assures me that when I reach Lilongwe, I will have a place to stay and he can take me to the embassy to fix everything. Thats lucky.

The search goes on. I find my crew and they are freaked out by what happen. I am still strong and have not cried yet. I go to a rock on the shore and meditate. Minutes later I run to the police who have found my bag with nothing inside. Not even the passport. Who the fuck needs MY passport. Soo annoying! The police again laugh at me. I had all my important things in a hidden compartment which the robbers obviously couldnt find to get in, so they sliced the bag open. I guess I was lucky it wasn't me they sliced into. A girl who has heard about it, shoves a couple bucks at me and says, at least eat something tomorrow ok? so nice!

I go to bed that night worried but hopeful that something will get turned in for me later tomorrow. I wake up and do yoga and meditate on all the horrible things that could have happened and also all the worse things that re going on in the world...there are many things to be thankful for. I was happy to get back on the net to find out that I had a wonderful parent who has wired me some cash to help while I was stranded. I find out also that I would need to get a police report for a new passport. The nearest town was 20miles away. The woman at the headquarters gives me bus fair to town but says I need to hitchhike back...so kind.

I head to the road where 3 cars stop but aren't going far enough to take me to the town. Finally a nice SUV rolls up and a boy says he can take me but I explain I have no money. He says its no problem at all. He is an african man named Sam. After talking a bit, we realize, he is the escort that was hired to take care of Miriam (the girl from UK I met in the airport lobby) what a funny coinsidence. Anyway he takes me to get the money transfer which is a catstrophe because my parents filled out the paperwork wrong and I have no phone to call them so the woman is refusing to give me the money. Stranded again. Sam buys airtime and I call USA, they luckily answer the phone and I get the info, and get my money. Down the road we go to the police station where I have to bribe the men 25dollars to get my police report. The process to get that paper with less than 100words on it takes 1 1/2 hours.

Sam who said he would be back in a half hour, still has not shown up, so I sit outside the station waiting for another hour. I am over it, so I decide to start walking. A few miles down the road he picks me up with appoligize that he had to run an errand for Miriams crew. He has explained everything to them and that night I will see her and talk to her because now I am in a search for a ride to Lilongwe to get the passport as soon as possible.

That night I find Miriam while I am hula hooping, I am determined to enjoy the remaining time here. She aids me in hooking up a ride to Lilongwe Sunday morning with her friends. That night I dance, and hoop and have the best time I can have, considering. In the morning, I pack and rush out and get to the meeting location where I wait for 3 hours for my ride. Who by the way never shows up. Once again I am stranded, its one thing after another. On my way back to the campsite, where I see Mike and Al who I have not seen the entire festival. They run up to me claming they have been hearing about my story. And they are sorry for me. They say they are headed to Lilongwe friday and can give me a lift then. So I agree to tag along with them and we all sleep in the 8 man tent that night.

The next day is Monday, we swim and relax, and later head out to cape Maclear. On the way they stop at the Crocodile farm where crocs are raised to eat and skin, I don't tell them why, but I refuse to go in and I am surprized the other vegan (Al) is attending such a place, but whatever. We arrive and set up camp and see the beautiful clean water. How exciting!! I jump in and swim my heart out. Its soo relaxing here on Lake Malawi. Its like my giant bath tub, or even a babtismal tub where I feel refreshed and sin free. That night we hang out on the beach with some dear friends from Belgium who are soo funny. Its a relaxing day on the candlelit beach.

The next morning, we rent kayaks and head to the island where we go snorkeling. I am in a Kayak with a German friend Jonas. We hare having some issues but we finally arrive. The snorkelling is the best I have ever seen. So many neon colored fish who swim up to your skin when you are still. Mike has an underwater camera which we go crazy over as well. Man this life is sooo amazing. The locals are very friendly although there are too many rasta men hunting me on the beach and for the first time I feel shy wearing red/gold/green colors. They even try to tell me they can fix my dreads and make them look nice, I just about bit one of them as they held my sacred locks in his hand. GRRRRR

Anwway that night we make some traditional african food over top an outdoor fire on coals, i was the fire lady and got it going, this is the traditional African way anway so I am not troubled by it. During dinner, some other travellers with instruments strum us some tunes and we have a lovely evening with the dim light and waves rushing upon the shore.

Next morning, we discuss the plans that the boys had about going to the capitol on Friday. I realize I wont be back in time to get my passport and so I run to the reception desk to find another ride. Miraculously after calling a few other lodges, they tell me to run down the beach where two German women with their own car are leaving soon to the Lilongwe. I run my heart out and find them preparing. They say I can have a ride no problem. I am sooo lucky.

I hop in the car and end up staying the night a back packers hostel in Lilongwe because I cant get ahold of Mixon. It's getting dark but I want to make a meal so I walk to the local store a 10min walk away. I hurry to beat the sunset but on the way back I get lost. There I am again vulnerable in the dark and on the wrong road when a car pulls up a side street and stops with his head out...its Mixon...OMG I cannot bealive my luck..fait has taken care of me yet again.

Although I have to replace my passport, camera, phone, and all that money I know how truly lucky I am.

I am now in the USA embassy and have just been handed my passport. I am one of the luckiest people I know, I really do have fait on my side.

A note about the festival:

First of all, I am not alone on this experience. In fact I think many other people will never go again. The picture that is painted on the website, is that Lake of Stars is a community festival that helps uplift and support Malawi. Well in fact its just opposite that. Outside of the festival, you will find small huts set up by locals to sell goods, cook foods and othewise make extra cash at the fest. Also there are hundreds of kids running around and playing but mostly demanding, not asking, for money from the white people. So you walk from your campsite past this craziness, and you enter a gate where you only see white and upper class africans. The kids are no longer seen, and the vendors charge high prices for foods. There are 3 stages where you can find small and large artsits peforming but the entire event is fenced in and private. Entry is a huge price that offers a very small discount to locals for entry. This really is not a community event. There is no support or scholarships for those who cannot afford it, really there is no discount for the poor population which is rampant, and kids aren't free to enter.

They should have had cd raffles to send revenue to local schools or womens projects...or at least they could have had a stage outside the festival or even half way on one side of the fence so the kids and local vendors could have enjoyed some dancing and music as well. Or even had lessons on traditional dancing or drumming or art. Instead they brought in cheap radio music dj's from the UK and created a club scene on the dj stage. I am overly annoyed completely unimpressed and I will never support this festival again until its changed its manner and many others will follow this path of dissappointment. Don't be fooled by the great documentary you will see online. psh!

up up and away, UGANDA THEN MALAWI,1 week in

kena — Thu, 6 Oct 2011 20:19:00 GMT

A little faith in humanity ... even in the simplist form. I was on my way. My parents have sent me off at the redmond airport..and I was beginning my 40hour trek across the globe. I first hopped a plane to portlandia and on the way met a woman from the OC. She was relocating to central oregon and loved the high dessert area so we had a connection. She talked to me for hours about her life and mine and told me about her son who was in his 6th year serving the military in afganistan. I said a silent prayer for him and her sanity as I realized how much a parent must worry in a situation like that. I kind of saw how nerveracking it must be for my parents too. She bought me a fruit bowl and we talked about how travel changes lives and how amazing people can be in sticky situations. She was amazing for me too beause I was a bit worried about the 3 hour gap I had at the aiport in LAX. I thought I may get lost between relocating to a new terminal. But she assured me it would be ok.

I was off to LAX now. My seat partner was an older psychologist who tested drugs on people and did research in the USA. He was a very kind australian man and he also assured me that I would be fine at LAX. In fact he could see how nervous I was. I told him I was going to take a taxi but instead he said 'lets go' and he grabbed my luggage and escorted me to the terminal, helped me check in with my flight, and got me all the way to my gate before leaving... They were sooo nice! The trip was great already.

It was late at night now and I was hungry but of course the stingy American airlines dont feed you at all even on an 8hour flight. So I tride to sleep. I arrived in Brussels and found the place very clean and pretty inside the terminals. On the plane, we found that we actually had a 1/3 of the plan filled and so everyone got their own rown to lay down. In 8hours they fed me 2 meals that were gormet style and vegan, besides the yogurt I tried for the first time ever! It wasn't so bad, but I won't be doing that again. But man I was sooo lucky. USA could really learn a thing or two about hospitality.

Finally I arrive in Uganda. Picked up by my dear friend JOJO (the kenya brother of mine). It was soo nice to walk out to the open african air. Warm and soft...besides the occasional blast of petrol. I got to Kin Initiative and had a small dinner with Uncle and JoJo and was sooo excited to share all of the great ideas I had for kin and what Uncle had been doing recently. In the morning, I was shy to see my sisters and brothers who were of course up at 5am cleaning. They were excited to see me too. A great re-union. Outside, the entire complex looked different. There were piles of projects.

There was a well that was near completion and a long line of people there to buy water. Many believe that water should never be sold but we have settled on the middle ground. People here would buy water typically at 25cents, but we offer it at 10cents because we are a community based org so we try to provide low cost means whenever possible. The money that we get, provides food to the children in our orphanage, and the low cost allows the locals to save the money they would be using in the higher priced wells. Much of the well has come through donations from kind people accross the globe and we are so thankful we have this method in our compound now, although we still continue to do water catchment.

The next day, I gave the children their t's that had the KIN logo on them. This was exciting and they looked so fresh. They could now produdly walk around representing our name in the community. It was soo fun to goof around and hang out as a family again. Later that day, JoJo and I built a garden bed with seeds I brought for sunflower, rainbow chard, beets, wildflowers, and spices. It was sooo nice to have the kids get all soily and into the earth. The first round of growth will take a few months so I wont get to see it, but Uncle is a great gardener and will probably make starts from the plants that flourish. The sunflowers will also be providing a protien source for the kids by way of the seeds, not to mention the beauty it sheds in the compound.

We have a volunteer from Germany here. She is an older woman who claims that here experience here has already been mind blowing and its only been a week. She claimed that people back home thinks she's crazy because they would never think to travel to a 3rd world like this, but I am glad she has come out. Luckily, Uncle even just installed a western toilet with a flush and everything, I prefer a latrine (the long drop style)..but she says if she had to use one of those, she would have left after a week...amazing that she didn't research things like this before coming. I am learning to accept her naiive behaviour and know that I too was like that at some point....She has however made several comments that bring me to a place of judgement...Things like "chopping wood is a not a womans work" or after seeing and outty belly button she says "Don't they realize how abnormal that looks?" I kept my mouth shut until then and I said "you mean abnormal to you". And I walked off. I think she might finally be realizing what it means to be present and aware of the concepts africa holds rather than pushing her agenda. This is something I can also recognize because I have been there. To be a volunteer you do really have to learn how to acclamate to your situation. It's not as easy as some may assume. It takes a subjective attitude and an open heart that is willing to learn.

Anyway on my last day at kin this time, I played with the hula hoop. Willy, the one boy amongst the group was sooo good. He even learned the fundamnetal move that leads all the rest of the tricks. I am so excited for him. He even kept sneeking into play with me. Which is fine because he is the hardest working 12year old I have ever met. I wish I could take him home with me. We sat and did money conversion. He would ask how much it is to fly here, to buy fruit, etc, then we would convert it to Ugandan shillings, then he would lay on the floor in utter amazement. His idea of white life is completely skewed. He even asked about Arnold Schwartzeneger, which was the hardest thing for him to pronounce. He learned of him in school and even thought that his muscles were natural and he had fought monsters in a forest and that they might be real. I was more than happy to provide his reality check. I think his love of America is vanishing as he realizes its not as perfect as hollywood had described. And I am more than grateful for that.

The next day, I squished into an uncomfortable seat in the back of the matatu to entebbe beach where I stayed the night at a backpackers hostel. I rode into town, hopped on my first bodaboda of the trip...man I love those. I settled in, then headed for the beach. Once I saw that most beautiful lake, life couldn't be better. I took a breath of exstacy and dipped my toes into the soft warm freshwater lake. There was not a soul in site. A few hours later, I found myself trying to avoid conversation with 3 16year old boys who were bothering my bathing. I finally gave in and we did a question for question conversation for a few hours. I actually enjoyed it and tried to commit not dismiss the locals like that again. He was sweet and we parted simply happy to have shared a converstation. I could see I was needing re-acclimate to the friendly african style of community. I was excited to experience it.

That night, I found myself waiting for my taxi and a huge storm that blew trees sideways, and I stood soaked to the bone and worried I was going to miss my flight. Africa time is something I know I can never get over. But luckily I was on my way, and an hour ahead of schedule.

Next stop, Malawi. Lake of Stars Festival. Hula Hooping. FUN FUN FUN!!

In the air again

kena — Tue, 20 Sep 2011 01:26:00 GMT

I was recently asked, "How can there be hope when such horrible atrocities happen in this world?" My immediate reaction was to agree with the gross behavior of humans and to claim that hope was a bit of a "moo point". I thought, well at this point in life, we have committed such horrible sins against our brothers and sisters that we cannot undo our mistakes, really there is not much hope for change at all. But then i realized how silly and brash that comment was. If I truly believed that humans were as evil as I was declaring, then what was the point of traveling abroad and doing volunteer work? Something had to drive me, to fill my heart with a beat of love for others, to keep me strong in the worlds weakest moments. And I realized, the only way for such passion to exist, is with thee guidance of a heart filled with hope.

Many people may know that when I wrote my first journals last year, I reflected about how angry, hurt, and annoyed I was by the American culture. Especially after seeing the contrast of African life to our own. I was amazed at how much neglect we were showing to people who should most recieve our helping hand. I still feel agitated when I see the complete lack of consideration from our fellow American. Like when people shove their faces full with food for pleasure rather than nourishment, or when there's a large screen tv in a home where children are baby sat by the screen. These things really do disgust me, but this is a path that I cannot control and that I have no right to judge. I can only accept that past all of those behaviors, are hearts that want to show love.

I have come to accept, that most people want to do what is right in this world. Most people really do desire to help and to give what they can to those who cannot thrive on their own. The only thing stopping them, is awareness and support.

I am not an upper-class citizen nor do I come from a family who lives an upper-class lifestyle. I do not have extensive training and I do not fall into the category of a successful standard of a 4 year degree graduate. I think being an average American, has really helped me succeed in sharing and showing the possibilities to my fellow man how we can all share a bit of our lives and help others in our own unique way.

I have been so shocked an amazed at how many people actually desire to give back to those in need. There is so much passion waiting to be unleashed. Now we only need the door to be unlocked, for the avenue of to change to be opened, and for our personal dreams to guide our journey. The best blessings I have received in this last year, is seeing how friends, family, and people I never knew were willing to help me with my own journey and give back to the communities I was in contact with. I realized that humans really do want to do what is right in their heart and to share love with people who are often neglected. Many people just needed a liaison to help them get started in their process. I am proud to say that I have been given the chance to be a liaison for some of these people.

Over the past year, I have worked constantly to learn about connecting communities on different parts of the earth. By directly engaging volunteers and friends with places I had been during my first trip to East Africa, I felt as if I was 'paying it forward', helping people as I have been helped. I was surprised to see how many people wanted to travel abroad or wanted to volunteer. Couch surfing is one of the best ways for us to travel while meeting people on a no cost obligation. One of the best things about this sharing community, is that I wasn't dealing with people who were seeking large touring companies and expensive safari trips. Rather, I found people who were enamored by the idea of delving into communities where most people had never been. To get into the "real" lives of those who are so much like ourselves.C-surfing is one of the engines that has fueled the experiences that people have always dreamed of. In my opinion, it is the best networking website that exists today. It is one of the only places where people connect with one another on a humanistic level. No money, no obligations, safe, and rewarding. I encourage everyone who wishes to meet people or travel to get on and start seeking people who you will find, are very much like yourself.

The journey....

I am 24 hours from getting on the plane. Once I start, I will be going for 24 hours on a place and 37 total travel time until I reach Uganda.

After 5 days, I fly to Malawi for "Lake of Stars" music festival in Malawi. (http://www.lakeofstars.org/) This is a festival that has run for over 5 years and is claimed to bring in millions of dollars for their communities and has aided the country in reaching their standard of successful independence...it is amazing how music and art can heal a nation. After the festival I stay to volunteer for 1 month in a rural community in the southern region near Phalombe.

Then I'll head to Zambia for another month or so of volunteer work in Solwezi, NW ZA with my friend Jack who I will reunite with after being apart from him for 5 years. We will also be playing in the Zambezi river and jumping into the Devil's Pool at Victoria falls.

I will then swoop back up through Malawi, to volunteer for a few weeks.

Then I bus up to Tanzania for a short volunteer program and a visit to Zanzibar.

In February I plan to be in Kenya where my friend Philemon is hosting me as I participate and organize more with the Congolese Refugees that I work for.

If I have time I will be stopping by Botswana and Namibia as well.

Finally I return to Kin Initiative where I will stay for a few months until I leave in April to return to USA...to my home, to my family.

I wish I could name all the people who are supporting me now, who have donated to the cause and who have given me moral guidance but I am blessed to say the list is too long. You are all so amazing. Please know that your light shines no matter where you are and what you are do. Feel empowered to share your unique talents, people will listen and you will be heard.

I will say however a special thank you to my parents and grandparents who's genes gave me life. They have done so much for me and I do not know how I will be able to repay them for all the blessings they have given me.

May peace find you all, take care of yourselves, and take care of your neighbors too!

PEACES AND ONE LOVE
Sister Kena Mbabazi Achieng ;)

Volunteer Coordinator for Kin Initiative(CBO)of Uganda

kenaafrica@gmail.com

kinintiative.org

compare & contrast KE UG TZ

kena — Tue, 24 Aug 2010 11:56:00 GMT

these are compare and contrast questions i have been asked often throughout the journey. all answers are only my opinion and do not necessarily pose true data

best traditional food
UGANDA matoke (green bananas) with leafy vegetables and groundnut sauce

best fruits
UGANDA jack fruit, pineapples, and papayas

poorest population
KENYA mostly slum areas and outlying village regions

most hiv and aids
UGANDA, although kenya seemed to yeild more sickness overall

least hiv and aids
TANZANIA mostly due to high literacy rates

languages
swahili in KENYA and TANZANIA, luo in kenyan village, lugandan in UGANDA
swahili was the easiest and most beautiful and comparable to spanish, while luganda was extremely difficult and comparable to chinese

best clothing
kenyas have the most unique fashion but tanzanians provide a rich cultural influence in their dress where girls never leave home without a kanga around her waist and boys often wrap a traditional cloth around their neck, UGANDA has many women wearing their traditional silk cloth though

music on the radio
ugandans love their music scene and their music is amazing. they have a rich culture of rap, hip hop, r & b and reggae that they mix with their mother tongue to make their tunes packed with upbeat and lively uniqueness. tanzanian and kenya music is good but you often see the western influence in the way they dress and topics they sing about. when you find a good traditional song there is a great beat to' dance to but its hard to find a new artist who isnt mimicking a western artists....especially kenyas as they LOVE the usa

children's music
UGANDANA children can really sing and dance better than other schools i have visited. they can manipulate their body movements and sway to any beat with ease. and their personalities really break out with dance and drumming.

night life
tanzania has the best dance club in moshi town where i stayed. with 3 areas for stages and a dancefloor surrounded by a raised balcony the scene gets hot all night long. bubbles, fog, and confetti fill the air above as hoards of volunteers and local youth dance from 10pm til 5am every friday and saturday to tunes from all over the world. kenya held the best club for watching a live band, although the bands were from the congo, simmers night club and restaurant in nairobi kenya provided different congo bands each night of the week where the bands played lingala and rhumba music for 5 hours through the night. great dancers perform on stage and the bands really get involved with the crowd

best transportation system
UGANDA, everyone gets their own seat but in TANZANIA everyone happily shares laps

worst transportation system
KENYAS wont even stop fully to let you in and out of the vehicle and they rip you off by changing prices by the hour for your ride

safest for visitors
TANZANIA

most dangerous areas
KENYA

corruption
very little corruption due to common swahili language in TANZANIA, very high corruption in KENYA due to tribalism

most tradition living standards
UGANDAS has traditional homes and methods for cooking and daily life, but the maasai communities in TANZANIA really lived a raw life in mud huts and wear traditional cloths

religion... mostly all were christian or muslim
KENYANS pretend to be more religious than they are. UGANDANS eat breathe and pray religious influence...TANZANIA and UGANDA however hold the most traditional of religions where the magicians, scorerers, and medicine men often do ceremonies for fortune telling and prosperity

animal encounters
KENYAS maasai mara region where i went on safari had a large lion of magnificent stature
UGANDA had some amazing birds like the crested crane (their national animal)
TANZANIA provided me an up close experience with a large owl of magnificent beauty

sight seeing
TANZANIA is like a hidden gem where visitors can check out mount kilimanjaro the tallest mountain in africa, the deepest lake in africa Lake Tanganyika, a world heritage site The Ngorogoro Crater, and the serengeti forest which is one of the largest in the world. of course the Nile river in UGANDA was to die for

favorite place to visit
pangani island on the eastern shore of TANZANIA and by the ocean

favorite community
Muslim community on Pangani island in TANZANIA, also the congolese refugee groups i met with in KENYA

favorite event
UGANDAs graduation parties are a big deal. you can find an entire family pitching money together to celebrate the education of a member of the community for an event usually lasting for 12 hours. the value of education is held as such a valuable skill that parties often have 200+ guests filled with lots of entertainment, food, dessert, and of course dancing from 11pm til dusk provided by dj's and huge speaker systems. i was invited to about 5 of these during my stay and participated in at least 4 of them. soo much fun!

most shocking aspects, travel and bribing
transportation in africa is crazy. you will find a mini bus fit for transporting 15 people yet its completely crammed with over 30 passengers, some hanging on the bumper on the back or out of the door. babies are thrown into the hands of strangers while the mothers stand squeezed until its her turn to alight, chickens lay uncomfortably at your feet and the roads are a whole other issue. potholes are just a bump in the completely rough roads that are rarely smooth. speeding is common and often the spedometer doesnt work anyway. no reason to use stop signs as you come and go when there is a foot of space to stick your front end in as you wait in the crowded lines of local transport vehicles. theres an unspoken organization as the drivers seem to know when they should go and when they should yeild. drivers travel on the side of the road that is the most smooth weather traffic is oncoming or not you will often move in zigzag pattern across your pathways. boda bodas which are motorbikes in UGANDA weave in and out of vehicles and even on the sidewallks as they often transport 3 passengers who cling for lives on the rear of the bike seat. remember that anything moving weather on foot, bike, or in motorcar, you will be hit if you dont move, all are equal

bribing is a common occurance in all nations but in KENYA you will find it can be used in any situation. weather you need to get a parcel at the post office and want to skip your paperwork, or you are driving passengers without windshield wipers, any conflict can be resolved for a small bribe, just offer an official officer a soda and some sweets or pass up a dollar or two and you will be on your way.... of course this is meager compared to the horribly corrupt KENYAN government where large bribes are found around every corner of the judicial system

most friendly
TANZANIANS they will often walk with you just so they can talk even if they are headed in the opposite direction

most cheeky
KENYANS are always looking for a way to manipulate a situation in their favor

places i miss

UGANDA family at kin house, TANZANIAN night clubs

next year i head out to the same countries for short visits, but will spend most of my time travelling lower regions and will go to BOTSWANA, ZAMBIA, AND MALAWI, hopefully if i have time i will travel to NAMIBIA as well.

thanks for reading, if you have any questions email me and i will add it to this list

kenaafrica@gmail.com

-sister kena achieng mbabazi

my final journey in africa 2010, and now back to the USA

kena — Tue, 24 Aug 2010 04:24:00 GMT

for nearly 2 weeks i worked with the orphan kiddos making amazing crafts mostly beads. they were fascinated by the meditation they reached as they strung bright beads onto string and metal in order to create masterpeice accessories. i attempted to teach them about the color design and they really got the hang of it as they began creating genius patterns. the kids were going to school each day and upon arriving at the compound they would run into my room requesting a new project. some nights i could barely get them to leave for dinner and later to go to sleep. i caved in a few times and allowed them to sneak in as i was really inspired by their desire to create art...forget the rules!

when the kids were gone during the day i worked a bit on the project of the window treatments. the study room was completely fixed with screen windows and doors and the girls dorm room was also treated with screens and emediately we could see the reduction of the mosquitos in the room.

now at the end of my stay at kin we had a few celebrations. i decided to make pancakes which the kids were so excited for. i also got each one of them pencils and stickers and they were all allowed to create jewelry for themselves to keep. that night we sat around playing checkers where the kids really beat me with skill even though it was their first lesson in the sport. near the end of the night i got tired but couldnt bring myself to kick the kids out as they laughed and giggled playing board games. even i couldnt stop giggling as their contagious nature spread through my blood with high sensations. we stayed up til 1am and i finally had to tell them to go rest til the morning. the next day they escorted me to the vehicled where i enjoyed my last bumpy ride through kampala town. on the bus we spend an extra 4hours to get to nairobi kenya as we had to switch busses 3times and got stuck at boarder checks where security was on high demand due to the recent bomb attacks. finally i arrived at nairobi and couldnt wait to lay in the home of my kenyan brothers on Obama street.

my final project took me across the slum neighborhood of mwiki across streams where i shared a walking path with a large cow and climbed the steep slope of a grassy accacia bush field. i finally arrived at the home P Filemon, the conogolese refugee representative.

i was greeted and welcomed into the room where over 20 men women and kids sat in a circle creating the woven hand bags that we helped donate supplies for. we were able to provide enough supplies for nearly 40bags and the artisans couldnt be more satisfied and excited about their new business venture. they continually appologized for their so called burden they had put on me and also they had wished they had money to give me for helping them,,,i wanted to laugh out loud at the proposterous idea of paying a volunteer but i held it in as i could see their seriousness. they truly felt sorry that i had to be burdened by their plight and i felt so opposite to this as i felt blessed by their friendship and familyhood we created. i sat amongst them as i watched and listened to their skilled fingers weaving the crafts and their voices rang out with melodies in their mother tounge preaching of friendship kindness and compassion. i was even so blessed by my final name they gifted to me before i left that day. they now take me in as their daughter and sister and call me "mbabazi" pronounced babaz which is the term for compassionate people in their community. i was brought to tears as they hugged me and comforted me in their home.

we sat sharing stories about our lives and our families and i got to know each one of them a bit more. i even experienced the sadness that existed from some members who suffered greatly during their fleeing from the congo. with 15 families present, there were at least 100 children total belonging to the group. 2 women were actually housing 15 kids each in their homes where the majority were orphans. another woman apparently had 8 kids of her own and belonged to a large family of high wealth and status in their community. but during the battles and raids the congolese rebels came in and wiped out her entire family, extended family, and friends as they wanted to keep all their wealth and erase their lineage. she escaped the gunfire with only 2 remaining children and no friends or family members. i was able to meet with some of the children who were now also creating the woven bags as they wanted to help their families pay for food and school fees which i found truly beautiful as they were so excited to take part in the project.

before leaving we had a large circle gathering where they sang and finally ended in prayer. first the leader instructed everyone to hold hands and out loud where we all said our own personal prayers. as everyone started to speak out loud all at once in different prayers in their mother tongue i was overwhelmed by a rush of high bliss hearing the singing hearts of my congo family. the chatter was gloriously loud and lasted for nearly 5minutes. i opened my eyes to find most of the group crying both in sadness for their lives and also in joy for the hope they were seeing. translated i found out that most members were saying thankyou for the compassion they were seeing from such a young human being, they asked for my life to be blessed by safety as i flew accross to the states, and they also spoke of the glory they knew was to come to their lives through this project of art. i felt so amazing as i saw the contrast of the struggling life of these refugees splashed upon a canvas of love and acceptance of their situation. their inspiration and will for life has kept them alive while believing in the hand of god. i left now so filled with dedication to help this group and i felt so blessed with their willingness to take part in my lifes journey as well.

next day i hopped my flight and headed first to ethiopia. things were going great until we were about to board the flight to washington DC. we were delayed 4hours due to a broken toilet on the plane. i was wishing we could all just take the typical african style and poop in a bucket instead of needing the toilet, haha...out of the question of course but i was down for it if only we could board our flight. i was impressed by the nature of passengers. nearly 200 of us had to sit around in the cold lobby waitin for news of the repaired plane. people were very calm and quiet as they sat around talking and laughing and feeling mostly unbothered by the situation. i had to laugh at the contrast i knew that this would pose if it were to happen in america. we were all so excited to be able to finally get on our flight and i was anxious to see the soil of north america again.

flying over pennsylvania i experienced my first culture shock as i realized homes were in subdivision style communities and organized in blocks. houses were far from unique and splayed identical styled lawns and roof tops. the roads made me blink twice as i saw organization and order filled with SUVs and luxury vehicles. but i smiled as i was comforted by the familiarity of the situation. finally in oregon i jumped into the arms of my parents and headed to luggage claims where i found out my bags were lost. luckily i was less concerned with my belongings and more concerned with sleep....

my process isnt over as i now have to figure out how to be the best volunteer coordinator i can be and how to raise money for the groups i have met along the journey. i am still adjusting to the life back here but am finding that one of the best lessons i have gained, is that beauty really does exist in all forms and in all places. america is beautiful, africa is beautiful, even tragedies in life create beauty. and this is the most valuable lesson i could have asked for.

i miss africa and im going back in august 2011 to continue projects and i will be taking volunteers and travellers with me. if anyone is interested in coming, you can contact me at kenaafrica@gmail.com. we will be doing fund raising for people wanting to volunteer to help alleviate cost of travel and such so please get involved and be a part of the magic.

much love to all those who have helped bring inspiration and glorious love to those i have met along my way. i never travelled alone as i always carried you all with me during my stay. please remain by my side during this never ending journey of life.

-sister kena achieng mbabazi