What Kilifi is like

A friend of mine asked me to describe what it's like in Kenya to her nearly 13-year old daughter. So, I figured it would be a good thing to post on my blog, too. Here it is:

We live in Kilifi, which is on the coast about an hour north of Mombasa. It's very hot and humid here all the time. It varies from hot and rainy to hotter and dry (but humid), and really, really hot and desert dry (but still humid). Nairobi is about an hour away by plane or about 7-8 hours on a bus and it's much cooler there because it's at a higher altitude.

Although Kenya is a pretty stable country, the government is also rather corrupt. As a result, the people seem to accept their fate and don't try to improve things. It's rather sad, because they are wonderful people and the country has lots of resources and a lot of potential. Nairobi is a "real" city and there is obviously a lot of money there. But, the people in power don't give anything to the people, so they are rich and most of the general population is poor. Many people here live in houses made of sticks and mud with thatched roofs made of palm leaves. Many don't have enough to eat more than one meal a day.

It's a bit uncomfortable for me to live here as a white person who is extremely rich by their standards, simply because I come from a country that has lots of money. It gets a bit overwhelming, wanting to help people and realizing that you can't help everyone, and how much is really helping, etc. etc. We have a gardner and a night watchman that our landlady provides. They get paid no more than $100 a month. Our gardner has a wife and three kids -- his house roof caved in from the last rains we had in October. When the roof caves, the mud walls melt... We gave him some money to help to pay for a new roof. We occasionally give him token gifts of clothes and shoes and food supplies from time to time. But is that enough? Doesn't seem like it. People here see a white face and they know that person has lots of money, so they are always asking for handouts or loans or trying to sell the "mazungu" something. Children frequently chase after a white person shouting "mazungu! mazungu!" and they sometimes ask for money or sweets. They don't consider it rude, they are happy to see the white person because they might be lucky enough to get a free handout. (Imagine a little white kid shouting "black person" at an African American in the US...uh, don't think so!!)

As I said before, there is no residential mail service. Most roads don't have names. People burn their garbage on the side of the roads, so there's often the smell of smoke in the air. They often recycle, but out of necessity, not out of respect for the environment (there are plastic bags floating around EVERYWHERE). Children play with pangas (really big knives), balls made of tied up plastic bags or handmade little wooden carts that have a long extended steering wheel that they push along as they walk. A few paved roads, but most are dirt. Cattle, goats, chickens roam freely. Monkeys too!

Most of the people here are either Muslim or Christian. There are lots of Christian churches of different denominations. The muslim mosques have Imams who do the call to prayer several times a day and they do prayers over loudspeakers. It's a bit annoyng when we can hear two or three going at once because they don't synchronize their prayers and it often clashes horribly (I suppose my musical ear is especially sensitive to this)!! Mombasa and, to a lesser extent, Kilifi have a lot of Swahili people -- these are basically a cross between Arabic and African cultures... The Arabs came here for trading a few hundred years ago, as Mombasa is a big sea port.

Most Swahili food is not terribly exciting. A lot of it is familiar to me, because I lived in NC for 15 years and the slaves brought their food to NC, which is now considered "southern cuisine." Things like beans & rice, collard greens, grits & okra. They eat similar things here in Kenya: beans, rice, mchicha & sukuma (chopped, cooked leafy green vegetables or spinach), ugali (maize meal, sort of like polenta or grits), various stews with beef or goat. They also make stews with plaintains and various lentil dishes. They also eat a lot of "nyama choma" which is grilled meat (often goat, beef or chicken, sometimes pork). There are also influences from Indian food. They also use a lot of chili/hot pepper sauce (pili pili), which helps. Of course, since we're on the coast, there's lots of fish here -- tuna, kingfish, red snapper, prawns, crabs, etc. Here in Kilifi and more in Malindi (just north of us) there are a lot of Italians (ya know, mafia types...), so it's pretty easy to get Italian food around here also!

There are also a good number of old-school Brits and Germans who tend to be very colonialist in their attitude toward Kenyans, which is also a bit difficult to stomach (they're usually in the over-60 age -- some call them KC's, or "Kenyan Cowboys"). And then there are the couples consisting of the pretty young Kenyan women and the old white men... a bit nauseating, although I'm sure the Kenyan girls are quite happy to have an old white sugar daddy to take care of them...

Volunteering in Kenya

Last weekend, Susan and I volunteered to help with a food drive for drought victims in Kenya. We went to a village area called Dungicha, which is only about 1.5 hour drive northwest of Kilifi (not far at all, but the dirt roads slow you down!). It was a really good experience and we had fun while also helping some people. We gave out an amazing amount of food, which consisted of 2.5 kg of lard, 6 kg of rice, 6 kg of lentils, and 20 kg of corn flour, plus some sugar and salt. It was nice to be able to give that much food, but it was amazing to think that one or two women would have to carry all that weight (on their heads, of course!) while walking for probably several miles. It really makes one appreciate how easy some of us have it in this world.

Here are some photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/barckhoff/VolunteeringInKenya

Getting an internet connection

We are lucky enough to be able to get an Internet connection at home via a uni-directional microwave (micro as in small, not the sort that cooks your food) mast that is connected to the network at the medical center where we're working. The Internet is connected to the house next door, but not to our house (which is the guest house of the house next door), despite the fact that the mast is actually closer to our house. I brought my modem from Australia (which, thankfully, I did NOT dump as ballast when my suitcase was over the weight limit), which also happens to have LAN ports, so I could easily link up to the hub at the other house. Only thing was, I had a 3 foot Ethernet cable and I needed something closer to 40 meters!

So, I asked the IT guys at the medical center to get me a quote for a 50 meter cable (a little extra, just in case). After several weeks of waiting, they finally gave me a quote for an entire SPOOL of Ethernet cable, which is 350 meters. WAY more than I needed. Then, they tried to sell me an outdoor wireless modem, which would cost more than double the 350 meter cable to buy and install. Mind you, it took about a month to get this quote. In the meantime, my office mate, Tony, said he knew a guy who could sell me some cable, but I wanted to wait to get the quote from the other guys (not realizing how long it would take). Finally, after I got the ridiculous "more than I need" quotes, I called Tony's friend, and he said he could bring it the next day. Hallelujah!

Then, Tony's friend calls him and then Tony tells me that it would be two 20 metre cables that I could connect together. I said, no I don't want them to connect together because they have to be outside and I don't want the connections getting rained on, etc. I said I wanted a continuous outdoor cable, 50 meters. So he called his friend to tell him this, and then the friend brought a 50 meter *indoor* cable. Ugh. Well, I figured, it's still got plastic around it and Tony tells me that I can put it inside a tube that I can get at the hardware store. So, okay, I bought the cable (which, by the way was ten times cheaper than the 350 meter cable), but now it didn't have connectors on the ends (to plug into the hub/modem). So, Tony goes into town, procures some RJ-45 connectors and then asks the hardware guy at the medical center to put the connectors on. A couple days go by and I bug him to finish the job and I finally get my cable with connectors on Friday afternoon. I take the cable home and connect it up, it works -- yay! But now I have to go buy a tube to protect it from sun/rain, etc. So, Saturday, I go buy a tube (actually a PVC garden hose) and try it out on the cable. Damn, the connector is too fat to go through the tube. Now, a dilemma: do I remove the connector, wait until Monday and then ask the guy to reattach the connector, or do I slice the hose down the side, put the cable inside, then tape it up with duct tape (a perfectly DIY redneck sort of thing to do).

I decided I didn't want to be without the cable any longer, so I painstakingly cut the 18 meter hose (the houses are actually pretty close together and much of the cable has to go inside the houses) lengthwise with a pair of pruning shears that Susan just happened to buy while we were at the hardware store. I then slip the cable inside the hose through it's new seam (this really is much easier than pushing it through the hose, I'm sure!). In the meantime, Susan and I had gone to the beach with some friends for the afternoon and now it was evening and the hardware store is closed, so I can't buy any tape and Susan would really like to get online...

So, we decide to string the cable between the houses and hook it back up, with the hose with the split along it gaping in places. We put it through the shutters of the upstairs window, over the outside kitchen door light, sort of tie it to a pipe and then over a decorative turret thingy between the walls around the houses, then under the eaves of the roof and through the window of the neighbors house (there is no glass on the window, only iron bars -- it's warm here). The cable is then pushed through a series of other indoor windows and holes in one of the bathrooms, then hung on some wall lights. It's strung inside the neighbor's house like a string of Christmas lights. Finally, after all that, it's connected to the Internet hub in the middle of the house (mind you, this house is pretty large).

I did buy little cable clips to attach the cable to the wall and make it look nicer, but we don't have a hammer yet... So, who knows if we'll actually get around to sealing up the PVC hose with duct tape? Maybe it doesn't matter? Who cares if the rains come and fill up the hose? Surely, it's the sun that's a bigger threat, and now it's got some protection from that. The indoor cable still has a plastic coating... it can't be that bad... Besides, we might not live in this house very long...

And the best part is, we now have a nice, full-throttle 54 Mbps Internet connection.

Shopping list

For those of you who are curious, I went shopping for a few groceries and I bought the following items:

1 mango
1 cucumber
1 zucchini
2 tomatoes (roma)
3 onions (red)
1 bunch bananas
2 carrots
2 limes (small)

Total cost: 165 Kenyan shillings = ~ $2.07 US

Then I bought a 500 gm bag of Kenyan Blue Mountain coffee for 700 Ksh @ ~ $8.80 US

So, the coffee is comparable to what one would pay in US (I think?) but the fruit & veg were a bargain! Anyway, I thought some of you might be interested...

Fun with public transport

Susan and I had our very first excursion to the Nakumatt on Valentine's Day. Nakumatt is the big Kenyan version of Wal-Mart (you may have heard in the news about the one in Nairobi that burned down a few weeks ago). The nearest one is the north side of Mombasa, so we had to take a mutatu (small bus/passenger van) from Kilifi. The Nakumatt is in a little shopping center with a cafe where we had Kenyan/Mexican (Keny-exican? Ken-Mex?) veggie quesadillas and Susan ordered an iced coffee which was very tasty! The Nakumatt was a nice little piece of civilization and we were able to buy exciting things like sheets and Zip-loc bags and other assorted household items. However, the trip to and from the Nakumatt in the mutatus was rather frightening. Generally, the mutatus are in varying states of disrepair and they drive about 100 miles an hour and try to pass every vehicle they encounter on a 2-lane (one lane each way, without the actual "lanes") so they are constantly speeding up and then braking to dodge oncoming traffic, etc. Of course, they also cram more people than they need to into the mutatus, so it is very cramped as well. Overall, they drive the vehicles VERY hard, which just puts them in a greater state of disrepair which makes them that much more unsafe, not to mention the reckless driving habits. I discovered that looking ahead or behind as we were traveling was not an option for me because it was simply too scary, so I had to force myself to look out the side (which was a better view anyway). It's a good thing I don't get motion sickness... actually, as we were riding, I felt that I might have the potential to GET motion sickness, but I didn't and we survived! Anyway, we've been discussing the possibility of buying a car here, but we want to wait until Susan actually gets PAID (which is a problem, considering that Susan's efforts at getting an overseas UK bank account has been in limbo for months). After the mutatu experiences, I found myself wanting our own car much more urgently...

House Hunting: Part II

So far, we had a few housing options, but none of them seemed to be particularly good ones. On Sunday, Susan and I decided to go to the Boat Yard, which is where the rich white people (wazungu) go for lunch and to socialize and sail their yachts. Turns out, this particular weekend was a fishing contest. We were told to get there a bit early to put our order in for lunch, so we left our room around 12:30. The Mnarani Club is on the same side of the creek as the Boat Yard and the tide was out, so we decided to walk along the beach to the Boat Yard, rather than taking a taxi. As we left Mnarani Club, the guard stopped us and asked if we had any valuables and gave us a warning to be safe. So, we thanked him and carried on. Along the way, we picked up a new male Kenyan "friend" who seemed to take a distinct liking to Susan. He started talking to her and walking along the beach with us. She tried to brush him off, but he persisted and once he knew she spoke some Swahili, he started telling her in Swahili that she was beautiful, etc. She kept telling him she wasn't interested and finally, when I also told him we weren't interested, he finally gave up and went on his way. After he left, Susan explained to me that it's apparently not uncommon for men to win over white women (probably older ones) and offer them sex for money (i.e. boy toy male prostitution), so that's what Susan figured he was after.

Shortly thereafter, we arrived at the Boat Yard, which had essentially a bar with a kitchen and a few tables on the sand. Upon arrival, we were looking obviously new and clueless, looking about for a menu, etc. and a guy named Jofat introduced himself and asked if we needed help. Susan explained that we were staying at Mnarani Club, moving here and looking for a place and also wanting some lunch while we were at the Boat Yard. Jofat said he might be able to help us with finding a place to live and would talk to us later, then we were directed to the window where we had to buy a book of tickets that could be used to buy lunch and drinks and also where we could order our food. So, we got the tickets, ordered lunch, got a couple beers from the bar and sat ourselves down.

The food came relatively quickly and we enjoyed a huge plate of grilled fish and chips with salad on the side. Jofat came back to us after we ate and he and Susan exchanged phone numbers and he tried to explain where he knew of a house for rent in Mnarani Village, but we had no clue, so we just said we'd meet him the next day around 5 or 6 pm and we'd get a tuk tuk to take us there. We sat and enjoyed the cool breeze and people watched for awhile, then looked around at the boats in the boat yard, where Susan found one that came from New Zealand and she asked me to take photo of her next to it to show to her dad. Some time later, the fishermen (and women) came in to weigh in and measure the fish they reeled in and we saw lots of strange looking fish with odd shaped heads, along with tuna, marlins and other large catches.

The next day, we called our tuk tuk driver and got Jofat on the phone to explain to the tuk tuk driver where to take us. We bumped down the rocky & pitted dirt roads through Mnarani Village until we came up to a house with an arched gateway with flowering boganvilla vines around it. Jofat took us in to meet a woman named Beth (who pronounced her named like Betty) who was very friendly and spoke English, but not very well. The house was basically a duplex house, with the second house situated at a right angle to it. We also met the neighbor, Miriam, who wore a long wig of light brown hair and had a rather excessive amount of eye make up on. She later explained that her mother was Japanese, which explained the Asian facial features to her otherwise African complexion. Later, we were introduced to her husband, a German guy in his 60's or 70's with bad dentures and very little English speaking skills. We decided that Miram must've been a retired "lady of the night" which is probably how she met the German guy -- besides the big wig and eye makeup, she had that general air of spaciness that seemed to indicate a rough past life. However, all of the people were extremely friendly and jovial and made us feel very welcome and comfortable. The German guy said he liked to go swimming in the ocean at 6:30 am and that we could go swimming with him; I made a visual joke about having to pry my eyes open at that hour, which gave them all a good laugh. The house was clean and had two bedrooms, each with cheap vinyl/linoleum floors and it also had two bathrooms and a couple other living areas with tile floors. The kitchen was small but sufficient, but with no stove or refrigerator. The entrance room had a cheap plastic table and chairs and one bedroom had a double bed in it, otherwise, it was unfurnished. The house was surrounded by a nice little courtyard-type garden and then Miram decided to show us around her house as well. Overall, we thought the place was liveable, but we weren't sure if we wanted to live in the middle of Mnarani village, although we were tempted to move in simply because we thought we'd be entertained by living with such colorful neighbors. We told Beth that we wanted to keep looking before making a final decision, so we'd call her back.

The next day, Susan and I were discussing our housing options and were starting to feel the pressure of needing to leave Mnarani Club by the end of the week. Considering our options, I had a change of heart about calling Samid, the owner of the bright white apartments across the creek from Mnarani Club. Susan called him to ask about meeting with him and he suggested that we go meet him that evening, so we called our new favorite tuk tuk driver Jacob and went to meet Samid. We got to the apartments and we were met by the groundskeeper and the Massai guard (now with Massai clothing) let us in. The groundskeeper took us around the back to meet Samid, who had just gotten back from a swim and was sitting there with nothing on but his Speedos, which was a bit unattractive, considering the way he was sitting. Samid was born and raised in Kilifi, but he explained that his father was from Yemen and his demeanor is quite Arabic. He made a concerted effort to have casual conversation with us about where we were from and making his opinions about politics and various other things known. He called the groundskeeper back and asked him to bring something (in Swahili or some other language). When the groundskeeper came back a while later carrying cashews, Samid made a big display of reprimanding the groundskeeper for taking so long and why didn't he know where things were and wasn't he supposed to be aware of where everything is around the property, etc. This was, of course, all in English for our benefit. Samid then took the sealed back of cashew nuts that the groundskeeper brought, handed to them to Susan and said, "Cashews. Export quality." And Susan and I looked at each other, because we weren't quite sure if he was just showing them to us or giving them to us. Finally, Samid said he would go take a shower while the groundskeeper showed us the apartments. The first floor apartments (which we had not seen in our first sneak-peek), were the ones that he was willing to rent long-term and they are fully furnished. My second look at the completed apartment with furniture (which is rather pretentious and Arabic-looking, with gold upholstry) was more favorable. They are nice apartments with lots of storage space and full sized appliances, etc. and for some reason, these ones didn't seem so angular or strange. Maybe it's just because we weren't sneaking around the unfinished ones.

We wandered out to the balcony where Samid finally joined us, showered and (thankfully) clothed to have more conversation. He told us how he has a soft-spot for women because he had four daughters, then proceeded to show us photos of each of his daughters, which he had saved on his phone. He tried to have more idle conversation and then Susan finally outright asked him how much he wants for the apartment. He gave us his price, then proceeded to look up text messages from other people who were interested, presumably to make it seem like they were a hot commodity (which we knew aren't, because everyone has been telling us about the place and how no one is living there). He also told us about some people who had rented the upstairs ones on a daily basis and how he decided not to rent an apartment to a German guy that he didn't like because he thought he might drink too much or be a bad tenant. Susan valiantly tried to talk him down on the price, but Samid would not budge and went on about his expenses (which was fair enough, considering he was still finishing the place), etc. Finally, we managed to wrap up the conversation so that Jacob (who was still patiently waiting with his tuk tuk) could take us home and Samid said not to forget our cashews (oh! he DID give them to us) and we told him we were still looking around and would let him know if we wanted to rent the place.

By now, it was Wednesday and we were feeling the pressure of having to leave Mnarani Club on Friday morning (or booking more nights there, which we wanted to avoid). So, we contemplated whether to go to the large 4-bedroom house with the animal murals and pink tiles, the little 2-bedroom duplex with the colorful neighbors, or the palatial Arabic apartment building. After much pondering, we decided to go with the 4-bedroom place that was only available until April, thinking that it would have all the furnishings we need, but the short-term availability would force us to keep looking for a more suitable place for the longer term. So, we called up Kristen, the cheerful manager and told her we wanted to move into the 4-bedroom place. Shortly thereafter, Susan got a call from Ann, who is the woman that everyone said we should talk to. Susan had called her the previous week and Ann said she would call back the following week, but Susan hadn't heard from her. Well, it turns out she has a place available that is the guest house to a larger place, so Susan arranged for us to look at it that afternoon.

So, we get Jacob to take us to Ann's place and she takes us to the property next door where the guest house is. It has a nice driveway with lots of palms and boganvilla vines flowering and has two large baobab trees in the front. It has a nice-sized kitchen, dining room and a verandah (which serves as a living room area). The upstairs has a walk-through office area and a bedroom with an ensuite bathroom and a large outdoor balcony. It's fully furnished and decorated and the bedroom has two twin beds. The kitchen had a decent sized refrigerator but didn't have a stove, but Ann said she could get me one. She said we could move in right away and that she would get us dishes, a toaster, and a kettle. Hands-down, this seemed like the best place we'd seen so far, so Susan was ready to take it immediately and Ann suggested that we think on it. Then Susan remembered that we had told Kristen that we would take the other place, so she said we'd check in with her and then would call Ann tomorrow.

On Thursday, Susan was about to call Ann about the place, then she got a call from someone else about another place (apparently word was getting around now!) that was available. So, Susan decided we should go there that morning to see it. So, we called up Jacob (who has happily been making lots of shilingi from us by now) to take us there. We arrived to meet an elderly woman named Patricia who was very friendly to us. This time, Jacob decided he wanted to see also, but the woman was a bit rude to Jacob and told him to wait in his tuk tuk. No doubt, she was protecting her property and granted, it was the first time Jacob had tried this. She took us upstairs to what was effectively two separate rooms with ensuite bathrooms. One was much larger than the other, with fixtures for plumbing which she intended to turn into a kitchen, but wasn't yet. The woman explained to us that her son (who appeared to be in his 50's and we met very briefly as he left while we were entering) was staying in the smaller room, but we could have the larger one until he left. She then proceeded to show us the kitchen which is a separate building from the rooms and also from her house. She walked us through her larger house to the swimming pool area, where it overlooked the most spectacular view of Kilifi Creek, where it opens into a sort of inland lake. The property is situated next to undeveloped land, which rolls into a very scenic valley so that the property takes on a hill-top perspective. She told us that we would be welcome to use the pool and that we could probably use the neighbor's kayaks on the creek down below. Later, Patricia explained that she was intending to sell the property after she finishes her rennovations. Susan seemed to be quite smitten with the place; however, although I loved the amazing view and watersport prospects, I was concerned about having to live alongside Patricia's son and the fact that the room was unfinished and that she was intending on selling the property. I still preferred the place that Ann had showed us the day before. So, after some discussion, we decided that we would take the guest house that Ann showed us and Susan called her and arranged to meet her and move in on Friday afternoon.

Jambo from Kenya!

We finally arrived at Mombasa airport on Friday morning. Aside from the excruciatingly long 14-hour Sydney to Johannesburg flight, everything went quite smoothly. We spent a few hours at a hotel in Johannesburg so we could have a quick swim in the pool (cold water, brr!) a shower and a couple hours of sleep in a real bed. The next flight was a few hours on Kenyan Airlines to Nairobi, then we flew on a new two-week old 737 to Mombasa from Nairobi. Our checked luggage arrived safely with us and the folks from the conference which Susan is attending this week arranged a shuttle for us from Mombasa to our resort hotel in Kilifi.

Mombasa is a fairly large city in Kenya and is the major sea port city. As we drove down the main road from the airport, we noticed that they've renamed the road Barack Obama Road. In Nairobi airport, the book shop (which was closed at 7:30 am) had its display shelves filled with books by and about Barack Obama and I saw several people wearing Barack Obama T-shirts.

From Mombasa airport, rode in the shuttle bus for about an hour and a half past many buildings painted with advertisements. Rather than advertising on billboards, they simply paint houses or other building with corporate logos, most of which seem to be mobile phone companies. Often the buildings are painted very vivid colors such as fuscia or kelly green, with logos appearing in several places on each wall.

As we drove up the highway north to Kilifi, we passed a HUGE sisel plantation (sisel is the stuff they often use to make rope or twine and looks quite similar to pineapple plants) which seemed to go on and on endlessly. Finally, we entered the Kilifi region and we passed a sign that had the Wild Living Resources logo on it (the organization I am planning to work with) and soon we turned into the driveway of the Mnarani Club which will be our temporary home for the next two weeks.



The Mnarani Club is a resort with a huge swimming pool that appears to blend into Kilifi Creek/Indian Ocean, which the pool and many of the rooms face. Our room is quite comfortable, a second-level room with a balcony that overlooks the Mnarani marina on Kilifi Creek. Although they call it Kilifi Creek, it's much more like a river (the Yarra River in Melbourne, for example, is much narrower!) and we are really situated just at the mouth of the creek and can see the ocean from our room as well. Often there is a good sea breeze that keeps things cool, but in the evenings, our housekeeper comes in to turn down the sheets, set up the mosquito net, close the screened windows and turns on the air conditioning unit.

The place is very well staffed and they really cater to all your needs, so we aren't suffering too terribly! The resort also has a few boats for hire and Susan and I went with one of her colleagues for a sail on a little catamaran yesterday afternoon. They also have other various activities: mountain bikes, snorkeling, scuba lessons, Swahili lessons, bush walks, road trips to Mombasa and other nearby towns, etc. There are some resident monkeys that also hang around the pool area and it's quite entertaining to watch them as well.



Yesterday, we met Susan's new American colleague, Laura, who picked us up and drove us around Kilifi so that we would know where the shops and markets are and to see some of the houses where we might be able to live. We did go to see the house we thought we might live in, but it's still being built and nowhere near finished, so we're not sure that place will still be a viable option. In the meantime, we'll be staying at Mnarani Resort for two weeks and may have to stay in Laura's spare room or elsewhere until we get something a bit more permanent.

The Times, They Are A Changin'

Egads. It's been a really, really long time since I've posted a blog here.

Well, in the interest of putting a conclusion to my very cobwebbed last post, no we did not meet the King of Tonga. However, we were greeted at the airport by his personal assistant and a couple of other attendants who gave us a tour of the island before we flew to Va'vau for our week-long sail about that group of islands. It was nice, but I would've liked to have spent more time actually on the islands rather than a boat. The snorkeling was very cool.

But, that's ancient history -- MONTHS ago!

Today, was a monumental day. It was the day that Barack Obama was elected to be the next US President! I am very happy about this news! I think he gave an amazing speech and I was quite impressed with John McCain's concession speech as well. He was extremely gracious and well spoken and I think he handled his rabid crowd of "supporters" well. Now, let's hope those rabid supporters don't do anything drastic in the next four years...

I'm even more excited about moving to Kenya now. (Oh yeah, did I mention that we're moving to Kenya in January?!?!). I mean, the thought of moving there has always been a bit scary and exciting. But now, I feel like I can go there and be proud that my country has elected a half-Kenyan president. I only wish that we were going to arrive in Kenya a bit sooner. Alas, the itinerary has been made and we'll be arriving 3 days after Obama's Presidential inauguration. I've been thinking that it would be cool to be in Kenya on that important day.

Already it feels like the negative stigma that has shrouded our country for the past 8 years is suddenly lifted. Obama is a man who is preaching words like "hope" and "change" and is inspiring a country that has become apathetic and despondent. People who have felt powerless and at the mercy of those who have abused their political offices. Obama's grassroots approach is giving power and inspiration back to the people. And, in his speech, he reminded people that they have to continue to help themselves -- that they cannot depend on him, a single leader, to carry them. This is an important distinction and, I believe, something that will be difficult for many Americans to take on. But how wonderful if the people of America take on this challenge and embrace stewardship of their country's fate and its global impact!

It will be interesting to see what transpires under this new administration. I know that Obama will restore the US foreign diplomacy which GW has so unwittingly tarnished. It's also clear that Obama is inspiring people in a way that is being compared to JFK and MLK -- BIG stuff! It was powerful to see the video footage of the likes of Jesse Jackson and Oprah Winfrey in tears as Obama gave his speech. Lots of people showing emotion -- when was the last time people reacted to a presidential election in this way? This is not only an American thing. The entire WORLD has been hoping that Obama would be the next US President. It is a global concern.

This has been a marathon campaign and I think everyone is glad that it's finally over. However, once he takes that office and the day-to-day events and decisions and negotiations start to take hold, will Obama still have the ability to inspire change?