That is what you think is

Day 52

So last night I sat around a laptop watching pulp fiction with my
Swedish and belgen roomates. It's amazing to me how hard it is to get
away from America. It's also crazy how good that movie is. I think I
had forgotten. It made me think twice about changing the focus of my
training.

'today we're gonna make wallets that say 'bad motha' fucker' on them.
Poa?'

The group is moving along. We're looking hard for a wax provider. This
might have been a horse before the buggy moment for me:) but bees wax
is looking like a reasonable option. It's local and cool, but a little
pricey.

Just a quick plug. Looks like the village is going to be on fox next
week. Check your local listings. I might get a shout out!

Enjoy the pictures.

-cheers

Learning

Slum training session

My new favorite tool

Can you tell I picked the color?

Progress

This is for girls.

Tote bag prototype

Espresso cup prototype

Old shot of mbita

Ok, who's the mzungu?

Home-spun branding

Prototype B (open)

Prototype B (closed)

Prototype A (open)

Prototype A (closed)

Day 47

June 20

So yesterday was midsummer and also the
Middle of my trip. A nice coincidence that only the Swedish could
bring to my attention. I've been working like crazy with the joy
bringers during the day and with the street kids group every evening.
I'm tired. But at the same time, now, I feel like I can deal with
anything. I'm strong as i've ever been. I don't even flinch at the
pick-pockets anymore. They're the least of my worries. I've gotten in
the habbit of carrying a box cutter to and from work. I know that I
could never use it, but it makes me walk a little taller.

It seems the the street kid group may never start. We've been looking
for our space for over a month with little success. Forget about me
training them to make fair trade goods. That's months away at best.

Tonight I went to a bar named 'places'. That's like a vague ass name
for a bar. try telling your friends to meet up with you a 'places'.
Unless they're local, it not gonna work. It's a lot like drinking a
beer called 'pilsner' which is actually a lager and a local favorite.

Lucky for me, my friends are local. When I'm not with my euro-
roomates, I'm only hanging out with kenyans. A month and a half in, I
can kind of understand what they're saying. That's awesome. I've never
felt so connected to another culture.

I'm almost gagging at the thought of school again. I think my 5th year
will help me a lot, but right now I'm living the dream. I have no
expences or responcibilities other than with my groups. It's way
better what an art student could hope for.

That's like double true now that I found the one place in town with an
espresso machine. Real f-ing coffee. This country grows coffee and
you're lucky if you find nescafe instant at breakfast. I didn't
realize how much I missed it. It's as refreshing as professional
wrestling or the American hiphop that was playing tonight. What a
great excuse to dance like an idiot.

-cheers

Strip checkers. Can't make that up

Day 44

Day 44
June 17

Over the week I've been here I've made a lot of progress with the joy
bringers. They still manage poor attendance, but that doesn't bother
me. The few that come are attentive (when not playing strip checkers)
and like being hands on with the training.

The tin-can candles ( tincandles, can-dles, what do i call these ) are
looking better everyday. They're cheap, relatively easy and nice to
look at. The 'zesta' canned fruit cans have sweet colors. Now we just
need to figure out a wax provider. It's lookin like Nairobi, and that
kinda sucks. It shouldn't be too bad, considering the mitatu situation.

We're also working on messenger and tote bags since one of the members
can sew up anything. They're lookin sweet. I should have shots up soon.

Yesterday I was just sitting in Iu house and a familiar face walked
by. Anne moman, who I haven't seen since the last time I was in Kenya
and never before that, just happened to be in the same place at the
same time on the other side of the world. That kinda blows my mind.

So some of you already know, but I wasn't the returning champ at
karaoke this week. But what's that mean, anyway? I sang 'I'll make
love to you' by boyz II men. I've never really heard the whole thing,
but I did my best. Turns out that when you don't know the words, you
can just yell and the kenyans go nuts!

Speaking of kenyans going nuts, you should see these girls dance. Step
off mazungus...

-cheers

Day 41

June 14

I've been staying in the moi seinor's club since Arriving in Eldoret.
I've been the one and only guest in this guest house, all alone. When
I say 'alone', I mean alone.

They have no staff members on site after 6pm, so they lock up and
leave. So when I come home at 9, it's pretty quiet. I feel like kevin
mccalister from home alone with slightly worse habbits and less time
to set traps for joe pechie.

So do you think it would be creepy to be staying alone in a large,
dirty, dark house in the middle of Eldoret? It's not, because 'creepy'
doesn't even do it justice. The property is large and a favorite among
stray cats. Waking up to the the blood curtiling screams ( or whatever
the cat version of screaming is ) always gets me a little on edge.

But to be honest, everything puts me a little on edge after kisumu. I
would say that my days are now punctated by moments when I'm not. But
I think that's a good thing. The experience I had took me to the edge
of possibility and woke me up as much as possible without physical
harm. Realness. You remember 'every fifteen minutes' with the
simulated car crash? I was in gods ( totally self indulgent ) version
of that.

But now I can sleep a little easier, as I have some roomates.
Yesterday 4 health care students from Sweden arrived. They're awesome.
They've taken me on as one of their own. As I am a loner here,
basically every group I've met has done something of the sort. I feel
very un-alone. I'm pretty lucky. It's resulted in some very fun
evenings and new, quick friends.

The time I do spend alone is precious. I have really enjoyed the
chance to catch up with myself and realize who I am and who I want to
be. I'm learning a lot about what I have and what I lack. I've never
felt more like my uncle jim. I can talk to anyone, regaurdless of
their native language.

-cheers

Day 39

June 12

Well, today is a new day. The sun has chosen to shine. It was a small
victory. I arrived at joy bringers for our second session at about
ten. I was at first discoureged by the numbers. There were about five
people in the room, all looking for answers and excuses for the
attendance. They didn't need them. I'm not sure how me teaching 35
people in a ten by 12 room would go over anyhow. I inquired about the
assignment I gave yesterday. I asked each member to think about three
new products and three local materials.

I honestly gave this not expecting great things. I simply wanted them
to think. However, I managed to get some mind blowing responces such
as 'we could make Vaseline.' unexpected signs of life in seemingly
idle minds. But it was the very first volunteer who gave the most
compelling thought. Tin lamps. They are a local favorite among the
industrious with little means. They typically are made from assorted
tin cans and soldered to make something that resembles a very small
lantern. They are then filled with some flamable fluid and then given
a wick that sticks out of the top. A 20ks item that is pricesless in a
slum with no power.

I entertained the idea and asked if people have them locally
available. That turned out to be a dumb question. I was escorted 2
blocks south where there is something of a slum industrial paradise.
There are people making something from nothing in all directions. As
someone who values and respects objects and the production of them, I
was quite moved.

We followed the trail of tin lamp stands asking where they were
getting them. We were led to a string of shacks with men working
diligantly outside. It was clear that they were the main tin lamp
producers in the area.

I introduced myself and asked if my group could observe. Situations
like this can be a real gamble at times. People with nothing to lose
can be quick to act. Quite on the contrary, these guys were very
excited and happy to show off the skills they've honed. They walked us
through the entire process from getting the cans to the finer points
of low tech soldering. Their methods made me feel extra spoiled by my
western conviences. These guys were soldering with what looked like
small hatchets with corncob handles. They let them sit in a charcoal
burner and then use them to scoop up bits of solder from a stone with
a small pit. They had even devised a way to make their own flux and
shared their recipie.

They let all of us try to make our own, giving us guidence along the
way. They were the teachers today. It made me realize how valuable the
local knowledge can be. A title of facilitator might have been more
suiting for me. I just brought the right people together. Either way,
we all learned a lot. It was another 'real' moment in my trip. Not
many people get an experience like that, ever.

I had to force some small money onto the workers as we left. They gave
us too much for me to just walk away. They also gave us a bag full of
cans to get started. These are not people with much. They work for
weeks to get as much as we would quickly pay for a cup of coffee.

I've had my moments where I've been quick to judge the intentions of
some locals. Today I was proved 100% wrong. If I hadn't let my gaurd
down for just a second, I ( and my class ) would have been at square
one. I feel like I'm ready to go at these things!

We are, of course, not intending to actually make containers for
flamable liquid and open flames. The plan is to take the method and
make travel candles. I think they are going to be sweet! I haven't
seen one but I already want it.

Now that you've heard the story, i bet you do too.

-cheers

Day 37

June 10

After a long day of traveling yesterday I finally arrived in Eldoret.
At one point of the bus ride I would have put money on the bus tipping
over. Luckily, I didn't lose any money. As the sun went down I felt
like I had a hangover. Strange, because I hadn't had a drink all day.
Not that a wet bar on the bus would have been a bad thing.

My friend Simon picked me up, threw me in a taxi, and took me to the
moi seinor's club. It's not what it sounds like, but it kind of is. He
had big plans for the evening. Karaoke. We went to the Iu house and it
was like a portal to another world, a mazungu world. I've been away
from white people for like three weeks, so a room full took me a back.
I literally felt uncomfortable for about twenty minutes. There was
white people food, white people jokes, white people hair, white people
dogs. It was crazy.

The Iu Kenya program brings people from my very own university to
Eldoret to work in their medical center. All of a sudden I had a lot
of l things in common with the people around me. It was refreshing to
say the least. They were all pumped on karaoke as well.

As we walk to spree it dawns on me that Avril, a Kenyan law student
who's moving to Indiana in the fall, also invited me to spree, as she
hosts karaoke weekly. There she was, singing 'hot stuff' in the
underground club, sellin it. Woooo.

My head is splitting and nothing amplifies a headache like amature
night in Kenya. I grab the song list open up to a page of classics but
I only see one line 'total eclipse of the heart.' ok, if you've seen
old school, I know that you've wanted to sing that song infront of a
captive audience. It's a duet, no big deal. I found a partner.

I fill out my request slip and walk to the bathroom and throw up. Is
it nerves? Has it been that long since I've performed? I don't know.
But when I walked out my song was on deck. The show must go on.

I'm handed a wireless mike and I make my way on stage. The piano plays
softly in a synth piano style. I gave Eldoret everything I had. By the
way, have you ever listened to that whole song? Me either. I missed a
couple I cues but that didn't stop me. I was sellin it, trying to act
as serious as possible. Hand gestures, the whole nine. I was
channeling meat loaf and queen simultaniously.

I got home, talked to my dad, Sarah and nick. I had great news. I was
june 9ths duet champion. No big deal. I was achey, nautious, and hot.
With my new crown I took the thrown. I spent all night in the bathroom
wondering what happened.

In the morning I went back to Iu house. There's no better place to get
sick. I had three doctors opinions at once. It turns out that I might
have left mbita, but I hasn't left me. I have malaria. Hahaha! It's
not a bad case, my medication is keeping the symptoms minor. I already
have more medication to keep it from getting to full blown status.
When it's not one thing it's another :) only in kenya can you get in a
motorcycle accident, chased by a crazed, loin cloth wearing, pipe
wielding guy and get malaria in one week. Or is that just my brand of
luck?

I popped my pills and popped in to the joy bringger space to see what
they were working on. They are a fair trade group that I'll be working
with. Of their 35 member, 2 had decided to show up. They were working
hard on ( you can't make this up ) virtual, strip checkers. That is
what it sounds like. I left after a patronizing conversation about
treating their job like a job. I said 'look, i need you now, i need
you now more than ever. I you make this stuff really tight, together
we'll make it, forever.' Tommorrow there will be much better
attendance, or so I'm told. I told them that training WILL start
tommorrow. We'll see in the morning. Time to get to work. Time to turn
around.

I went back to Iu hose for lunch ( a glass of water ) and managed to
accidently meet a ellen, the lady I have a meeting with tommorrow.
She's trying to start some self sustainable groups out of kisumu. I
warned her of the pipe guy. ( even though he covers himself in
charcoal and would be much more suiting of the name 'black guy' it
just sounds bad ) a third voice joined. Julie is a woman working with
fair trade groups in Africa for her store in north Carolina. She had
great things to say and was quite taken by the products I brought back
from mbita. Kelly, she's looking for a me, but I'll stay loyal to the
village.

I was taken to see some prospective sight plots for the street kid
project by Simon and Sam. We went to the 'prime chic' ( this is
absolutely not what it sounds like) to discuss plans over dinner.
After that we took a stroll through the moi uni dorms and found some
of simons friends hanging out. I met matt who's not only from
Bloomington but the founder of box car books. He's also friends with
two graduated sculpture bfa's who shared my studio at one time.

Two big days and one small world.

-cheers

day 39

so some of you might have heard already, but i have malaria. i'm kicking its ass. i'll write more later, in the mean time, enjoy the pictures.

-cheers

mazungu dogs!

kisumu dickstars

kisumu car wash

kisumu spools

my favorite cook in mbita

fresh...

who knew?

Really.

Evidance

Day 35 - READ ALL OF THIS AND TRY TO BEL

Day 35 - READ ALL OF THIS AND TRY TO BELIEVE IT
June 8th

As I sit outside of the al-noor cafeteria, nearly lakeside, I think
that if i didnt know I was In Kenya, it would be hard to really place
where I was. There is a large mosque up the street, 'mosque ave' as a
matter of fact. In kisumu there is a large indian population and that
deffinitly differentiates it from my destinations thus far. This
creates some interesting culture clashes. I'm not sure how or just why
the Muslim population has settled here. I don't care.

All I care about is that I'm about to eat chicken Marsala. Only one
problem. This is an indian resturant without non? I asked for
something close to non and the brought me this. ( Picture should
follow ) it's like a giant potato chip. A papadum. The texture leaves
something to be desired, but over all, not half bad.

I'm still in kisumu because of a miscomunication. I was intending to
meet a contact here and speak with him about his project. By the time
that I got here and got his number I found out he's not in town. But I
think it's for the best. I worked all Saturday, traveled on Sunday and
a day to explore on my own is turning out to be pretty nice....

And as I say that....

Mom- DO NOT READ THIS

After I ate I took a walk around town. I went down to the bay and
relaxed and then a jaunt around the industrial district. It was fun to
walk by myself and see everyday life.

Now I'm back at my hotel, sweating bullets and shaking, because I
can't quite believe what just happened.

It seems pretty safe here most of the time. A lot of people want to
ask you for money and stuff like that, whatever. I was about two
blocks from my hotel when I stopped quickly to take a picture. I know,
not the smartest move. This guy comes up from behind me and grabs my
arm. ( as I write this I still can't quite believe it ) this guy is
wearing only a loin cloth but covered from head to toe In what must be
charcoal or something. Whatever it is, it's black and now on my arm..
He's carrying a long plumbing pipe and has an old water bottle tied to
his waist, filled with black fluid. He has no bottom teeth and a
disapproving scowl.

Just to be clear, this is not the jungle or some tribal reserve. This
is the city.

As he grabs my arm and touches my chest with the pipe I struggle back
and say 'woah...' a security gaurd outside of the new victoria hotel
steps over and says something strongly to the guy. I just head back to
my place. I didn't think too much of it. It was weird, but whatever. I
keep walking back and I'm checking my 6 to see what he's doing. As I
do that I see the security gaurd chasing him, chasing me. Ok, this
just escaladed.

I'm a pretty quick guy but I'm wearing Birkenstocks. I was lightly
jogging and this guy is running. He's holding the pipe like a weapon
he intends to use so at this point I feel it's safe to yell 'get away
from me!'

This doesn't work. So now I'm clapping and yelling at the security
gaurds outside of the stores 'hey, hey, hey! Security!' it at this
point I look back and see him hurl the pipe at me. I'm about 7 to 10
feel away and it hits me in the back. I lose my sandal look down and
see the pipe rolling next to me. I grab it, put on my best 'I will
seriously hit you with this.' face and turn around, wound up, like I'm
at bat. I scream one last 'get the fuck away!' and take a step forward
like I'll swing as he gets mobbed by a group of guys from the tire
place behind him. They tore him up. I dropped the pipe and walked Into
the hotel as the people on the street rush to doughnut around the
scene. People start taking their belts of and hold like chairot
racers. The man at the Hotel counter looks at me, says something in
Kiswahili, reaches down under the desk, comes back up with an old pack
of cigarettes and hands it to me.

So what did I learn from this? Never underestimate the power of crazy.
I don't think I'll be in the habbit of walking alone anymore. But I
also learned that most of the people here are willing to step up,
protect those who need it. More than anything I learned that if you
need help, yell. Yell like you mean it.

Though I'm a bit shaken, I'm not shook. I'll finish my trip (maybe
with my head on a swivel) and perform to the best of my ability.

More alive than ever,
Matt

Bennett

Pre paint bangle

Bota-bota mudflap wisdom

Top of lampshade made with only plyers and jig

Lunch being chased (fast food)

Why I'll miss mbita.

Guiness energy drink. Who knew?

Day 34

Day 34
June 7th

This morning I officially left mbita. Bennett escorted me again to the
'big city' of kisumu. We opted for a mitatu over the bus this time
'round. It might have been a tad cheaper, but better isn't how I would
describe it.

For those unfamiliar with this very popular mode of Afro-transport,
let me fill you in. A mitatu is a small bus ( think volks-wagon micro
bus meets 1993 ) with generally four rows of seats, three seats per
row. the number of seats, however, holds little significance.

I'll expand on that. If you're doing the math at home that's occupancy
for 11 passengers and 1 driver, right? Of course not! This is Africa!
Some boast 'seats 17!' with vinyl script along the door. This, you
see, is a selling point, as in 'we will pack this motha' full, so be
sure to wave us down.' not that you would have to wave them down
because they stop for any signs of life near the road

En route to any destionation it's standard for the 'people getters',
we'll call them, to leave the door wide open and hang out so that more
people can be packed in. I will hand it to these dudes because roads,
here, are not really roads so much as they are well worn paths, and
the drivers drive fast and crazy.

The record today in our mitatu was 21 passengers. 22 if you want to
count the infant next to me. I mean, the kid was being breast fed, so
I think we can count him. So, 22. Bold.

Got luggage? Not a problem. What about something big and weird like a
sofa? That's what the roof's for. Maybe a huge basket of fish?
Fantastic! They turn no one or thing away. That basket of fish, by the
way, landed a spot under my 'seat'. I guess it beats my lap.

It's easy to get a little soar at the people getters for perpetually
making an uncomfortable situation even more so, but at the end of the
day, they did something amazing. They got a micro bus with a 4
cylander engine to move 22 people to a destination. That's effiencient
any way you look at it. How much did this two and a half hour circus
voyage cost? About 5 dollars for bennett and me combined. Boosh. It's
like the ultimate form of splitting a cab.

And in the mitatu world, style is everything. If you're a mitatu
driver and you don't gots a combination of the following: a decal of
some American pop singer from 1998, a politician (that you like or
dislike), some random english phrase like 'AGAPE' or 'DIGITAL OUTPUT
STRONG' and of course some hot pinstripes, you're in the wrong game
pal. How about you go deliver milk or something? They dress to impress
and they impress me everyday with their originality and irrationality.
Then again, in africa that statement is not specific to public transit.

-cheers

Day 32

Day 32
June 5th

Today I left my class with a bittersweet celebration of sorts. I know
that I will be missing my first batch of students. The painted shells
are still drying in the windows and cocaroches are surely rustling
around in the bushels of banana leaf. I will soon be rustling around
in the streets of Eldoret, but I have the feeling that I'll be missing
the strange simplicity of mbita.

I feel like I have a lot of unfinished business here. I'm anxious but
apprehensive to leave. I'm placing the responsibility squarely on the
groups leaders. It's now up to them. The training wheels are off. I
can't say that they're tottaly ready, but they're getting better every
day.

It's also bittersweet to say goodbye to anyone forever. It's not
certain, but likely. Who knows? Maybe fate will swing me back around
some day. Time will tell.

My real hope is that I could continue this thing for a few years. It
seems to be in the best interest of everyone involved. Selfishly, it's
rewarding in a totally new and amazing way. Again, only time will tell.

-cheers

Prototypes

Worth a thousand words and several thousand schilings

Day 31 - quick note

Day 31 - quick note
June 4th

Though a lot of these entries talk about crazy weekend trips, distaste, general negativity and other
debatury, rest asure that I've never worked harder or felt more
pressure/responsibility in my life. This has been the best learning
experience of my life.

I miss everyone state side so much! I also miss cheese burgers.

I want to say that I have been treated so well by all of the people
here. Probably better than I should have been. they call me 'brother
matthew. ' they obviously deduced how religious I am. I didn't know it
would show through like that...

If you really want to know what the trip has been like, i'll tell you.
I feel like the teacher in 'half nelson' if you take out all the parts
about smoking crack :)

In all honesty I want to send a special thanks to Kelly, jeremy, my
folks, my friends, my professors and all the people that helped me get
to this strange, beautiful part of the world.

Much love,
Matt

Day 31

Day 31
June 4th

So let's talk progress. When I first started working with the mbita
group the women were makig baskets. Good baskets, mind you, but not
the kind that give a strong return price with their 16+ hour
production time.

We've tried many things in less than 3 weeks and we're turning out
great things. The products, themselves, show progress, but they don't
show the greater victory. The women now know how creative they really
are. They know how to make the steps from small idea to production.
I'm super impressed by how far they've come. I feel like a teacher and
I had no idea how rewarding that could be.

I've fallen in love with each and every one of the widows. I will miss
them dearly as I leave this weekend.

So on the line we have about 4 new items. The first is just a tweak.
We have utilized their expertise is banana leaf and added some
touches. Coasters with the traditional materials and katenge fabric or
maze bag circles sewen to the tops. The colors and patterns for each
are great. Next, we thought about the island and what that could give
us. Shells. Necklaces made from the large, obscure, clam shells and
bangles made from painted snail shells. Honsetly, they're so cool I
can't deny it. Last and most ambitions, I've set them up to make lamp
shades. I made wood and nail jigs for the wire and they can make them
without any power or serious tools. Nothing but a pair of plyers.

Again, I've never been so proud. Pictures to follow

-cheers

Day 28

Day 28
June 1st

On Monday I began my last week in mbita. Returning after my crazy trip
to kisumu was refreshing. I'm growing a little tired of the island,
but kisumu was a bit much. As early as breakfast I was getting hassled
by kenyans wanting to 'welcome' me. This is occasionally done as a
genuine gesture of hospitality, but typically it's nothing more than a
precursor to some sort of request. This could entail anything from a
request for me to visit an organisation so I can share it with people
state side or a simple begging for my pocket change. Everyone wants
something. Especially the ants.

I totally understand that just a little bit of American money can go a
long, long way in Kenya. But that doesn't mean that I should be
entertaining the daily requests for sodas, phone credit, money for a
ride, and other petty stuff like that. After all, I'm not taking a
salary here. The money isn't mine to give away.

It doesn't have a thing to do with money. It's hard to believe that
anyones friendship is at all genuine when there's a request for petty
cash on the tip of one's tounge. But I'm white and fresh from the
first world. Therfore, I've got money falling out my ass for everyones
little problems.

If I sound like I have a chip on my shoulder, I appologize. If I were
on the other side, I can't say that I wouldn't do just the same.
Life's hard here. No joke. I'm in one of the 'finest rooms in town',
the royal suit, and I would rather be at a super 8 on the highway.
Then again, the super 8 would probably cost three times as much.

The ants amaze and enrage me all at once. They could find 2pac if he
had a granola bar. Last week I opened one of my bags for the first
time on the trip. It had been in the in-wall closet, zipped up. I
needed to grab a new book, but I couldn't find it. You see, I packed
some trail mix packs and and the entire inside of the bag was red and
moving. Oh yeah, they're fire ants. Thousands of them even found there
way deep into my pack to investigate a roll of tums. I think they're
in my brain, I'm always itchy in the room.

But there's one thing the I like about the ants. I bought a bunch of
Obama gum ( yes, Obama gum ) at the bus station. 1 ks a piece. Quite a
deal. How could I say no? When I got back from kisumu I threw it on my
coffee table and grabbed dinner. The ants haven't touched it! That's a
sure sign that I should not chew that gum. So when I bring you back
Obama gum, remember, it's the thought that counts.

-cheers

Day 27

Day 27
May 30

I'm laying in bed in kisumu. I traveld here today with my friend
bennett ( a school teacher and also 22 ) to prepare for the big Sunday
market. Here, they have all sorts of things foreign to mbita, as it is
basically and island.

To get to kisumu from mbita is no small task. It starts with a 45
minute fairy ride to the port. After that, it's a 2 hour bus ride into
the city. The road ( if you want to call it that ) is a bumping,
winding, white knuckle journey. The type that most white folks pay
good money to ride on at amusement parks.

If you arive in the evening there is quite a welcome commitee. A pack
of young men with the task to escort whoever off of the incoming bus
to the Nairobi or Eldoret expess, regaurdless of your actual
destination. Bennett tells they get 'ten-bob' (twelve cents) a head
for guided customers. Boy, those dudes work hard for their money.

We set out for a Late dinner on a took-took ( three wheeled car ) at
about 9. I ate about three pieces of ( literally ) The worst beef i've
ever had, and many chipatis. Beggers can't be choosers, next time I'll
arrive earlier and find a real resturant. To be honest, I only walked
in the place because they had a cheesburger painted on the wall. Let
me just admit to wanting one more than I ever have in my life. Turns
out, that's bullshit. No burgers. The workers weren't even worried
about bringing a microwave oven out of the back, plugging it in, and
nuking our dinner orders. Tibs.

Since we had heard all about the octopus; bottoms up Club, and it was
but a few blocks away, we decided to check it out. Turns out that
summit beer is on special there ( through the month of may ). 3 for 2.
What does that mean for two young men? We each get one then we have
another to give a young lady. That's true. But let my tell you
something about the octopus; bottoms up club. There are young women
about, they're even eager to take a drink from a young gent. One
problem, all prostitutes.

Just as the cooks weren't shy about the microwave, these girls weren't
shy about their line of work. I've been to eastern Europe, but this is
a different matter.

I know that I'm a naive boy from the Midwest, but this took me by
surprise. I've deduced that it's hard to talk to a prostitute about
the following things that I might with a normal person:

'So, what brings you here tonight?'
'what line of work are you in?'
'where did you go to school?'
'do you have a boyfriend?'
'busy day at work?'
'big plans this weekend?'

Topics that seem to be more prostitute-friendly*:
**though these may be phrased as questions, they're really more like
commands.**
Wanting a drink ( 'you buy me one beer, yes?' )
Wanting a ciggarette ( 'give me American smoke?' )
Wanting to talk about leaving ( 'to your house we go, now!' )
Wanting to dance ( 'we dance and you buy me one beer.' )
Economics ( 'I know you mozungoo buy me one beer.' )

I've been in places with prostitution, but never the entire population
of females at a social gathering. From what i've heard, this is not
uncommon for kisumu.

I recently watched a show about the wild west. It said that
prostitution is the oldest female trade known to man. So I'll hand it
to them for keeping tradition, but it really bummed me out for the
evening. It's sad stuff. On the other hand, I can relate. Artist are
the most glorified hoes of all.

Anyways, tomorrow I'll be back mbita, ready to work with new materials.

-Cheers

What we started with ( banana leaves and strong women )

Day 19

Day 19
May 23

Today was my first day off in mbita. I was really looking forward to
sleeping in past 8. Sleeping in sounded, like waaay bettaaa' after the
night out that I was trying to recover from.

Yesterday, at the hotel, I met a military police officer on leave. His
name was wycleff and he was visiting here in mbita to see his family.
When he found out that I was here from the states he was adimit that
he take me out to see the city at night. Normally I wouldn't want to
do mbita after dark, but with and mp? Does it get safer than that? I
agreed and he said he'd come back later to get me.

Wycleff returned around 9 with his older brother. He made a quick call
and a motor bike showed up soon after. 'just one?' I asked. The
question answered it's self as he started scooting the driver up. So
four grown men ( if I fit into that catagory ) squeezed onto a one
cylender bike. He took us to a local spot where I instantly got a lot
of attention. Not the good kind.

As soon as we sat down a really large woman approached me and wrapped
her sizeable upper body around my face. She had really nice things to
say like 'I love you', 'I want to kiss you', 'marry me white man.' you
know, good stuff. As soon as I wiggled my way out of her bosom, she
aggresivley kissed me square on mouth. So, yeah, yesterday I kissed a
Kenyan prostitute.

She left after a little persuading. Then I turned to wycleff and asked
'so, that was a prostitute, right?' to which he replied 'yes. She is
my sister.' so that happened.

We left that bar after a drink or two and made our way, through the
slum village, to another local dive. It's pitch black. No light but
the stars. All of a sudden I hear stampedeing foot steps and orange
ciggarette butts charging at us. I of course thought that we were
getting bum rushed and robbed. I yelled 'this is bullshit!' and
corutched down with my hands over my head. To my surprise the clammer
raged right past us and down the road. Then, another wave of noise
followed right behind. So now I'm thinking 'oh, I should have ran with
the first group. This IS bullshit.' around the corner came flashlights
and automatic weapons. 'stop! Police!' they shouted. They were chasing
theives. Ok.

Wycleff called the driver to take us home after the 2nd stop. The
driver pulls up on the same bike and whips us through the slum. Just
as I thought about how crazy everything was, the driver hits a huge
pothole, crashes and throws us all off of the bike. Ok, I'm fine.
Everyone is fine. Dirty, but fine. The bike, on the other hand, won't
start. Sweet. Again, it's pitch black, we have no lights and we're in
a maze of a slum.

Aparently, the the bike dispatch isn't far, so we decided to walk the
bike there with the driver and get another ride. When we got there the
manager came out with a rock and successfully fixed the kickstart. Ok.

We all get on and he gets us most of the way home until the bike just
dies. Wycleff and his brother walked me home and made sure I got into
my room safely.

So that's why I wanted to rest. Warrented, by my standards. but the
locals had other plans. At 8:30 shem started knocking on my metal
door. 'brother matthew? You take your breakfast now?'. 'no!' I
replied. 'Are you sick? What's happened? Shall I call a doctor?'. I
really felt fine, it's just Saturday, you know?

This was followed by a series of phone calls from my local posse. They
all just wanted to see how I'm doing on my day off, ect. But then I
really got a wake up call. Another motor bike.

Bennett is a 22 year old primary school teacher who's affiated with
jackton's widow group. He showed up early in the morning with a motor
bike he borrowed from a friend. Obviously, I was kind of over bikes
right then, but he was on a mission. He wanted to show me more of
mbita. I hopped on and he took me all over. He doesn't have a driver's
liscence, but apparently, not a big deal around here.

Honestly, it was awesome. I got to see some of the tiny fishing
villages and scenery I never would have gotten to otherwise. We sat by
the shore, had drinks and talked to the locals for hours. It was one
of the better days I've had.

So after revisiting all of this, I can't even believe what I'm doing.

-cheers

Wycleffeotuoma@aol.conntiny

'royal suite'

Day 17

Day 17
May 21st

So if you want to read these in order I suggest you start with day 15
or 14. There's a preface here.

On the way to mbita I read metamorphasis by kafaka. On tuesday, when I
arrived at the holiday inn, my room was full of unwelcomed guests.
Several times I huffed out of the room, scared of the wasps, and sat
on the patio. One of these times I watched a horned beetle kareen Into
the side of the building, turn in the air and land on it's back near
me. I sat idle as it fought and struggled to get right side up.

The way kafka described that struggle was simply perfect. A few hours
later the beetle was nothing but a trail of red ants.

I guess what I get out of that is this: sometimes, you have everything
to gain by getting back on your feet.

-cheers

Day 15 - notes about the holiday inn

Day 15 - notes about the holiday inn

Even though I said that all my fellow travelrs have left, don't think
that I don't have roomates. As I stated earlier, I am staying in the
royal suit of the mbita holiday inn. Kenyans are very, very welcoming.
So welcoming, in fact, that all of the doors of the unrented rooms are
left wide open as to not discourage wildlife from having a nice place
to live.

Apon check in I got to meet some of my new roomies. There are the ( at
least ) two gekos that live in the curtain fixture, the uncountable
ants in the multiple trails leading to and from the windows, the nice,
hairy spiders hopping around and the friendly wasps tending their nest
above the closet.

I'm kind of torn about the lizards. I don't really want them running
around my room. At the same time, they are taking care of the pest
issue way better than anyone who works here.

The staff got a real kick out of watching me persaude the wasps out of
my room with a towel. Apparently the only white person on the island
is also the only one afraid of angry stinging insects. Nevermind that
if I get stung my air passage will close up. No worries, that's what
my eppy-pen is for.

I also discovered that the bathroom window is just bars with no glass.
All of the windows are without screens, of course. But let's be real,
malaria is the number one killer here. Tibs.

By the way, 'T.I.B.S' or 'tibs' is a phrase that was coined on this
trip. It started with a discussion about how incredibly universal the
term 'this is bullshit' is. You can say that anywhere and regaurdless
of the background of the person you're speaking to, they seem to get
it. I learned this in eastern Europe and I can't wait to try it out
all over the world.

I'm trying it out a lot today.

Don't get me wrong. I rarely bitch about accomadations. It's
important, especially when in another culture, to be flexible and
leave your western expectations behind. I just feel like I'm living in
an episode of wild discovery. On the bright side, it doesn't seem like
anything in the room wants to kill me. I just wish they would pitch in
a little. I'm on a tight budget here! This is bullshit.

-cheers

Day 15

Day 15
May 19th

Kelly and melissa have just left me to continue their trip. I'm
currently at the, get this, holiday inn of mbita. It's not at all what
you think. Kelly and I talked the manager down to three weeks in the
'royal suit' for about $12 a day. Not bad.

This marks the start of my 'job'. I will be working with a group of 27
widows who are currently making baskets out of banana leaves. Kelly
already has a group making really great baskets, so I will be
attempting to shift their focus a bit.

Their patron is jackton. He is a techncian at ICIPE which is an
organisation specializing in malaria research. He lives in the ICIPIE
compound and invited us for dinner last night. It was some of the best
Kenyan food I've had.

Mbita is an island in lake victoria. It is a great change of pace from
the city. We took a boat ride all along the coast yesterday.

The island loses power a few times a day. Internet access is a pipe
dream. I haven't gotten online since I've been here. It's good to
disconnect from time to time, but correspondence with Kelly is going
to be important. If you're reading this, at and t probably got their
act togeather.

I will be busy, but I can already tell I'm going to be getting a
little lonely. I'm meeting a lot of people here, but I can't shake the
feeling that everyone wants something from me.

It seems impossible to pay the actual price for anything. I get the
white person price. Every time I ask what something costs, they slip
into kiswahili and laugh.

-cheers

This was the best surprise.

Day 13

Day 13

I'm writing this from the road as we travel from Eldoret to mbita. The
group has left for the airport so it's down to the three, Kelly,
melissa and me. We're traveling by mitatu, a tiny bus that works like
a taxi. Since we all have luggage and I have two bags of tools we
needed extra space. We talked the driver down to renting out the whole
thing for 3000 Kenyan schilings ( $38 US ) for a three hour ride. Not
too bad, but as we pass busses and cars with little to no concern with
oncoming traffic or live stock, it's seeming like less of a bargin.
But I'll say this, 80's jams have never sounded so sweet.

Push it real good