IN MY OWN WORDS...: Rewind Review: First 2 weeks in Kenya

It's hard to believe that it has already been two weeks since I arrived in Kenya. And so much has happened already. After enjoying my 4 days in Amsterdam, I met my classmate Michelle at the Schipol Airport. Initially we had planned to go around Amsterdam for the day until our flight that night to Nairobi but were both too tired to bother. As we boarded our flight, we thought it would be a good idea to switch my seat so that I would be seated next to her, as she had the window seat in our 3 seat row; we were hoping no one else would sit there. That proved to be an horrific idea, just as they were about to close the airplane door, in walked an extra large man, relatively unkept, and smelling of hmmm, whatever you would imagine someone with extra meat would smell like after maybe 3 days without a bath. (Hey listen, I got some extra meat on me too, that's why I make sure to keep it fresh, just saying). Point is, I suffered the next 8 hours to Nairobi in a combination of being stuck in the middle seat, in a hot airplane with hot sweaty cheese smell next to me. I thought human beings were at best only able to hold their breaths for at most minutes, but somehow I accomplished 8 hours. That's the only way I can justify not dying from malodorous smells on that flight. Unfortunately the torture continued as both Michelle and I were stuck waiting at Jomo Kenyatta airport for 8 hours until our flight to Eldoret later that evening. But, but, but!!! we arrived to Eldoret, the rural area where our medical school has established a well-known presence, excited about our 2 months ahead.

Immediately I recognized new developments, with Eldoret showing some progression over the last 3 years. I noticed more cars on the road (damn traffic), less mud huts (hopefully the government just didn't inhumanely tear people's homes down) and get this everyone has a smart phones. Every med student I had seen so far, has a better phone than what I was given. A 1975 Nokia, that takes you 3 hours just to send one text message. Do you remember repeatedly pressing the keys to get to the different letters, that's what am working with. We got settled in the Servant's Quarter's before moving into the medical student hostel two days later. They call it SQ, as if naming it something like GQ makes up for where you are staying, but it does provide sort of an intermediate level of accommodation before moving to the Kenyan Medical Student hostel, which for some weird reason has no toilet seats. Don't get me wrong I grew up in Jamaica, and summers with my grandmother as a child meant using wooden toilets up the hill, so I am use to coming up with creative ways of passing materials from your body while avoiding contamination. But for real tho, why no toilet seats? Is it meant to tease us, like "look you get the whole toilet, but no seat... wink wink".

Whatever the reason for encouraging us to come up with more creative ways to pass materials from our bodies while avoiding contamination, which my now roommate Michelle and I brainstorm about almost on daily basis, we have made the best of the student hostel. Secretly hoping to be more creative than the complainers before us who stayed there, we are hoping, no determined to master our new lifestyle. Essentially so we can feel as if we are more globally inclined, well me at least. So far we have initiated the following, "Pee-buckets", utilized during the late night hours to avoid the walk up four flights of stairs to empty your bladder that is still on US time. Secondly "Pee-bucket Music", we take turns playing music to avoid hearing the other one, you get the point. Thirdly, "In-room-close-line" where we hang our unmentionables. And not to mention the full service breakfast area we set up, and the many wine bottles and mini-alcohol bottles my roommate has stashed for difficult days. If you are there trying to imagine how enormous our room is, it is about the size of a queen size bed all around, which explains why they put a bunk bed in the room with the rest of space requiring you to waltz in order to pass by each other. We try to only have one person standing, or getting dressed at a time in order to avoid a boxing match or bruising each other in the process.

Our first week seemed a little slow, filled with lots of orientations, lectures and trying to understand Kiswahili, the language spoken in Kenya and many East African countries. We spent our first weekend relaxing and enjoying what we thought would be a great visit to the market to buy fresh fruit. A lovely Kenyan medical student was kind enough to take us to the market, negotiating prices of mangoes and avocados as we moved from stand to stand in the town market. Unfortunately we had to move quickly, as I thought since it was a hot day, I would wear a dress that was 2 inches above my knee in the front and about 3 inches higher in the back (you know why, wink wink). Anyhoo, I was essentially called anything but a harlot in the market, as our guide translated that the women were exclaiming "what is this, what is she wearing" and the men grabbing my arm as I walked by. I couldn't help but wonder if this was the very reason our high school principal implemented the rule of skirts 2 inches below the knee. For the sole purpose of preparing us for an extremely conservative and patriarchal society such as this, or to help us avoid being mistaken for a woman of the night during the day time. I couldn't help but ask our Kenyan market guide how she felt about skirts above the knee, and turned this mini-almost-embarrassing incident into a cultural exchange. She mentioned that at times she wants to wear something a little more feminine, aka short, but she valued the conservative ideals of the community she lives in. What was worth noting were the skin tight jeans or tights that outlined the beautiful African woman's silhouette, hips and butt, but yet my dress drew more attention. Interestingly enough, at night there is an extreme transformation of these young women from long skirts or pants to tight dresses right under the butt and 6 inch heels. I have even seen Hijabs in the day time on young Muslim girls that become barely dressed in the dance clubs at night. Essentially so far I have learned to conform at day and be my 2-4 inches above the knee wearing skirt self at night. If anthropology has thought me anything, it's to respect the culture that you are in, because we are entering as visitors. So now I make sure my knee caps are completely covered to avoid drawing the attention of those who are intrigued by the folds.

Part 2 to follow soon: the boob incident, med student ran hospital, weekend rendezvous, and my new love pentagon.

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