It’s been more than a month since I last posted anything? I find this very hard to believe. Alas the calendar does not lie, at least not this IDEOS Android-based Google phone. I was reluctant enough to get the phone for I see myself to be loyal to Apple products, after using all of their products since 2005. I broke that trend this year. It’s starting to look like I’ll be breaking my loyalty once more to buy a netbook. I desperately want to buy the Macbook, which boasts spec’d out hardware (yay for WoW references) from its latest update. After seeing the updates, I decided I would ask my grandparents for an advance on my birthday and Christmas presents for the next two years enabling me to purchase the silver beauty when I went to Nairobi the last weekend of February. The real reason, however, for going to Kenya’s capital was to plan for the World Federation of the Deaf conference with a wonderful Peace Corps Volunteer named Noëlle Opsahl. Unfortunately, the weekend prior to the much anticipated departure for Nairobi, I received frightening news.  Another PCV, Mark Stratton, whom lives about an hour and a half away in Maua, went to Kisumu and met up with several other PCVs in the Western province. During his stay, he and two others were robbed of every electronic item they had in the hotel room. The news sent chills up my spine as I thought how easily that could have been my expensive laptop that was stolen. I went to Nairobi still ambivalent on what to do but the prices, $250 above the norm, fortified my decison to go with a cheap netbook. As long as it has a webcam. I have yet to get around to purchasing one mostly because of recent events, which will be explained as I type further, and because I am hesitant to bargain for such an expensive item. I could simply walk into the Nakumatt and purchase a laptop at a fixed price but why do so if there is a chance to get it for cheaper. Soon. I am eager to get the opportunity to videochat with family and friends.

Back to Nairobi. The matatu rides are usually anytime between 4 to 5 1/2 hours from Meru. During what I thought would be an agonizing,cramp-filled journey, I found myself enjoying the scenery and reminiscing on how life used to be in California. The matatu pulled into the dusty, trash-filled cityscape of Nairobi before I became fully aware of our arrival. I was excited to see Noëlle at Kenya Continental after not seeing her since swearing in on December 15th. When we met, we picked up right where we left off as if we had never been apart for all that time. We agreed to dive into what work we had the following day. For the evening, we just wanted to enjoy one another’s company while being in a westernized location. As the evening went on, we bumped into other PCVs, most of whom were from the Public Health sector of the PC. For some reason, the Pubelths (yes, I’m calling them that :D ) are often aplenty in Nairobi. Anyway, the subject of dinner arose and I couldn’t think of anything other than little fish wrapped in a rice and seaweed blanket with some special sauces accompanied by pickled ginger and the lovable green putty that is wasabi, having been the cause of so many tears on the newbie ingester’s end and laughter on the spectator’s end. It happend. Sushi heaven happened at The Phonecian, an odd hybrid restaurant serving sushi and lebanese. I am positive that as Noëlle and I devoured our delectable meals, we were wondering why we had ever left the United States where sushi is aplenty. Saturday, we were deep in our work creating donation letter templates and sending emails. We got good work done that day. We also went to Lé Rustique, a place that transported us to another place with its European style. We indulged our appetites_ with stuffed portobello mushrooms and sandwiches. I must emphasize that Kenya does not have mushrooms of any kind, and I’ve grown to realize how much I truly love them. That night, along with 2 Pubelths, we went to a bar named Black Diamond. It really was a nice feeling being there among a heavily mixed crowd. It felt like home, if only for an hour.
Sunday, we sought to finalize everything that we had started. That was our plan. I awakened with what I thought to be a very slight hangover, which didn’t surprise me considering the fact I hadn’t drank since about a month prior. As the morning progressed, though, I realized it was something different. I started feeling cold despite my body being hot to the touch and nausea started attacking my stomach. I continued with the worl, pushing my body’s messages aside. I went as far to walk to the Sarit centre before realizing that I was really not okay. The return to KenCon was brutal but I made it. Not a moment too soon too for my body exploded from its rear with disgusting liquid. Diharrea. I was confined to the bed for the remainder of the day, getting up only to painfully traverse the short stretch to the toilet where my body continued its revolt for my ignoring its messages earlier. Well, more like it was something I ate but at the time I couldn’t help but to think it could have been typhoid or cholera. I didn’t get a wink of sleep that night. I now know what torment is: being unable to sleep as your body burns up to unhealthy temperatures while your stomach and rectum is working to purge whatever it is that’s left; all along the while feeling a chafing burn at the small of the back, the inside of the legs, and the insides of the buttocks. Thankfully, Monday came and I went to the Peace Corps medical office. I got medical attention from the newest PCMO named Lisa Ray, one of the nicest people I am lucky to know. After about 40 hours of involuntary fasting, I consumed a vegetable broth. The sensation was better than when I ate sushi, ironically enough.
On Wednesday, I was exponentially better so I decided to wander around Nairobi a bit to try to get to know the city better. Around lunchtime at the Sarit as I was eating, a handsome nubian man sat down across from me and whispered something too low for me. On his second try, I understood the words but not the message: “I do business here.” I was perplexed but I was also trying to be nice so I continued talking. It wasn’t long before I realized the hilarity of the situation – the man’s business was sex! I declined and went on my way, thinking to myself that Kenya may be more progressive than originally thought. (Later, I reaized that this mindset is only evident in the larger cities where there is a melting pot of ideas imported by western travelers, Meru not being one of them.)
I was released back to Meru on Thursday morning and arrived just in time to catch the last 3 hours of Kaaga School for the Deaf’s Prize-Giving day. Hudson Asiema was there, along with another educated Deaf adult. I couldn’t contain the glee I felt at having the opportunity to communicate without inhibition! Indeed following the ceremony, I accompanied the two to the nearby White Star hotel and dined with them with an excursion to the most happening bar in town: Simba Wells. A few rounds of beers and naturally paced signing in the midst of blaring music and few other patrons turned out to be exactly what I needed, especially after being on the sickbed.
That Sunday, being this recent Sunday, I was activated for night duty for the second time this term. Being on duty mostly constitutes of ensuring that everything is in order with the students from 5-9pm. After a long day of teaching, the added stress of night duty just pushes me to the edge of a temporary insanity. On duty week the house is a wreck and quite frankly, so am I. I think I handled myself better this time around though.

I believe we are all caught up with all the major events that have happened since the last post. Onto the very recent events.

I talked to the headmistress of the school about the selection of a teacher to attend the WFD conference with me. She seemed supportive of the idea but I can never tell with her because she seems to have a perpetual frown and I always get the feeling she talks down to me. No matter – I’ve put up papers explaining the selection process for interested teachers. Basically, they must submit a 1 page paper explaining why they should be selected, sit through a sign language competency exam given using Kenyan, Hungarian, and International signs. In addition, there’ll be an interview. It makes me feel good because the teachers whose signing is poor will rethink on their skills. Once a teacher has been selected, they’ll help with fundraising efforts. Approximately $4,500 will be needed to cover airfare, room, board, and registration fees between the two of us. Here’s to hoping this project is a success.

School is out on April 1st, less than 3 weeks away. I’m saddened by the fact I won’t see most of my students aka friends for one month. I’ll see my other PCV friends though :)