Tutaonana Kenya

The word for goodbye in Swahili is “Kwaheri.” It has taken me a long time to sit down to write my farewell blog and I was wondering why it was so difficult for me. I spent two years of my life carrying water, eating amongst my village neighbors, walking long distances, assisting in delivering babies, taking motorcycles out in the bush for outreach clinics, battling black mambas and cockroaches, learning Swahili and my tribal language, singing and dancing with the little boys who were always tapping on my window, and meeting some of the best friends I may ever find. I don’t think two years of experiences, tears and triumphs can be summed up in a blog. More importantly, I think this blog was so hard to write because I’m not ready to say goodbye. “Tutaonana” means until we see each other again and that seems like a more appropriate way for me to part with the land and people that will always mean so much to me.

For those of you that followed my story, you may already know that I was pick-pocketed in Nairobi in January, had my hotel room broken into in February in Kisii losing all my electronics, followed by a break-in at my village home in March where I lost a second computer. It was a trying time for me and it ultimately lead to Peace Corps deeming my site unsafe and sending me home a few months early. I had 24 hours to return to my village, pack all my belongings, and say all of my goodbyes. It would have been difficult to leave when it was time, but it was heartbreaking to try and tell everyone what knowing them has meant to me over the past two years in a matter of hours.

I struggled and cried, had the time of my life and saw amazing things that most people only dream of. I have been on horseback riding next to giraffes and rare zebras, I have summited Mount Kenya at 16,355ft, I have swam in Lake Victoria and sunbathed on the shores of the Indian Ocean, I have sat in traffic for hours in Nairobi, waved to people on a sunrise run through my beautiful village, experienced the joys of delivering babies and the pride in resuscitating one, and never thought my best friend would be a Nun. I am a better and stronger person for everything I have gone through.

I was and will not be ready to say goodbye. Kenya is a part of me and the people in my village will always be with me. Tutaonana Kenya.

 

Showing pictures of home to my Health Club students

Lewa National Park

Maasai Mara National Park (Wildebeest Migration)

Wenchi Crater Ethiopia

Ang'iya Village

Ang'iya Village

Sikwadhi Outreach Clinic

Black Mamba

Zanzibar, Tanzania

 

Sister Tina- Sister Mary- Dad- Mom- Me- Sister Joy

 

The Heights of Kenya

Kenya is such an amazing country. You can spend one afternoon on the beaches of the Indian Ocean, then scout out Lions, zebras and wildebeests on safari, swim in hippo infested waters along the shores of Lake Victoria then climb to 16,355 feet to the breathtaking snowcapped peaks of Mount Kenya. I have been lucky enough to say that I have seen and done each one of these things.

I never thought I would climb a mountain. When 6 of my best Peace Corps girlfriends suggested we climb the mountain together over Christmas, I couldn’t refuse. Day one we climbed our first hill in record time. What normally takes 3 or more hours, we raced up in 2 and a half. Day two we paced ourselves a little better, mostly because you have to adjust to the altitude as you go and because you are climbing for 8 hours. It was amazing to watch the landscape change as you gradually get higher and higher.

Day three was Christmas day, and also our acclimatization day. We left Shipton’s base camp to go up and then back down before summiting the following day. I felt a little funny that morning, but I figured it was just a little fatigue. Halfway up our climb I started feeling dizzy… almost like I was drunk. My friend Breezie turned back and asked me if I was ok and I didn’t really have any words to respond with. Our guides had me sit and rest while the others went the rest of the way to the top. On our way back down my altitude sickness was so bad; I had to have one of the guides practically carry me down. I was lightheaded, could hardly see, and my legs were shaky and couldn’t get good footing. This is not ideal when you are walking down the side of a steep cliff. I felt like an 80 year old woman as I collapsed in my bunk and had my friends take my boots off and bring me tea.

After countless glasses of lemon tea and an altitude sickness pill, I was up at 3am ready to summit this blasted mountain! We slowly and steadily climbed one by one up the side of the peak. It is pitch black so all I could see were Breezie’s feet in front of me. When I chanced a few glances to either side of me I could see nothing but down. We were climbing up a ridge where one false step could mean falling down a steep cliff to either side. The only way to describe this part of the climb would be to equate it to spending 3 hours on a stairmaster. Only the stairmaster has ice on the steps, you are climbing in the dark, there are no handlebars, and all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the room.  It was an amazing feeling to reach the top. There are truly no words to describe the sensation.

 

Thinking the hard part was all over, we didn’t realize we had another 9 hour hike ahead of us to get back down. I am so glad to have this experience with my best girlfriends. They are some of the most faithful, fearless, and strong women I have ever met.