After a little over three months, I finally made it to the top of Elephant Mountain! With its base practically in our backyard, you would think it is easily accessible. Unfortunately, that is far from the truth. With unpredictable weather and unreliable guides, it has been a headache to make it past the electrical fence entrance. However, not only did we get past the gate, we made it to the top! Yesterday started with a 5:30 am wake up and a 7:30 am ascend up the mountain. Our hike began through a pine forest, followed by a very muddy bamboo forest and ended trekking up very steep rock to the peak. It took about four hours and a lot of work for us to get to the top. However, it was definitely worth it. The views were incredible. The trip down was nearly half of the time to the top but was equally as challenging. I was stuck in quicksand-like mud for about ten minutes, I truly wasn’t sure that I was going to get out. However, I did and made it back down the mountain with about 5 extra pounds of mud on each foot!
The entire time we spent on the mountain yesterday, gave me plenty of opportunity to think over the past 3 weeks or so here in Kenya. I remember about a week ago saying goodbye to my parents outside of the Terminal Hotel. I remember afterwards going back to my single hotel room with my mind moving a mile a minute. My family’s visit started the same way it ended, with tears. It has left me with the question, “if having loved ones leave is so difficult, is it worth having them come?”
The holiday season started with a celebratory bonfire which we roasted marshmallows over (thanks to the family who was here in December). However, we needed sticks as skewers. As a way to collect some twigs I said I would look for some on my run. So every time I saw a stick that was suitable for roasting marshmallows I would come to a complete stop, pick it up, and continue on running. As time progressed I had a handful and was being stared at by almost everyone in our village. The sticks were put to use and the smores were great. However, the best part about the story is that the next day I was out on a run, and was greeted by about five neighborhood kids holding handfuls of twigs, waiting for me! Unfortunately, we were completely out of marshmallows and I had to use the sticks as firewood, but am still completely grateful and flattered by these kids’ generosity and thoughtfulness.
At 7 am, Christmas morning started as if it were straight out of a storybook. I was awoken to the joyful words of Miriam, “Auntie, it’s Christmas, why are you still sleeping? Lets go!” From there, everyone (a volunteer family of six, Brian, Leila, Juliana, Lilian, 21 beautiful children, and I) all crammed in our living room around our Christmas tree with the aroma of wood burning from our fireplace. As I looked around, I saw one big happy family snuggled together with Christmas cheer in each and everyone’s eyes. Presents were exchanged, hugs given, and laughter filled the air. The rest of the day was spent outside with the kids testing out their new toys or in the kitchen preparing our Christmas dinner. I, however, wasn’t around for what I have heard had been an amazing meal. I was on a Matatu headed for Nairobi to pick up my parents!
After checking into our hotel, I couldn’t stand it any longer, and took a cab to the airport -two hours early. Pacing up and down, the anticipation of their arrival was killing me. And then, I saw them from a far outside the terminal. I can’t describe the feeling I had as I saw them after 3 months. I immediately started to cry tears of joy.
The next week with them was spent at the coast in Malindi where we had a fairly abnormal experience. On one of the first days, by chance, we fell upon an amazing adventure. While we looked for some sort of way to see crocodiles and hippos we landed upon a village right near the water. What we left with was an incredible day of exploring this village’s backyard with about 20 college-aged locals. After walking through a couple miles of beach covered in Mangrove trees (that in the evening would be completely submerged with water when the tide came in) we reached the Delta where we saw flamingos and hippos.
Another day was spent at the “Grand Canyon of Kenya” where we explored sand stone that had been carved into a canyon from the area’s annual rains. It was a beautiful scene with incredible colors. To top it off, it was inhabited by baboons, which provided entertainment for all who were there. Unfortunately, the day ended a little less enjoyably as it had started. On our way to dinner my parents and I hopped into a TukTuk (a cab similar to what a 3wheeled golf cart would look like) and was on our way to a nearby restaurant when the TukTuk in front of us collided into 2 motorcyclists. As I ran out to go see if there was anything I could do, I saw a scene that I don’t think I will ever forget. Metal pieces littered the street along with the shoes that belonged to those involved in the accident, but what I didn’t expect to see was lying right in front of me, a motionless body belonging to a young man lying on the curb. After shaking him to try and wake him up I concluded that not much could have been done, nothing that I could do anyway. As I gradually stood up in awe of all that was going on, I heard cries from the sidewalk. They were the cries of three little boys. I immediately ran over to them to calm them down. I wrongly assumed that they were simply upset by what they saw. After hugging them, I looked down and noticed that my shirt had blood on it. I knew that it didn’t belong to me. After looking closer to these boys’ faces with the light from my father’s cell phone, I saw broken teeth and large cuts. I knew that the closest place to get ice for them was from the restaurant across the street. As fast as I could, I ran through the dining room and straight into the kitchen where I demanded bags of ice. As I ran back over to the kids my body froze at the sight of the second motorcyclist being pulled out from under the TukTuk that had been carrying the boys. After caring to the kids for about 20 minutes, their parents came, and we left knowing that they were in good hands. My family left in silence. We couldn’t believe how lucky we were that we weren’t 20 seconds earlier, just enough time to avoid the accident. It made me realize how fragile the human life is and that living life to its fullest everyday is the only way to ensure that when the time comes, you haven’t regretted a thing.
After Malindi, my parents and I arrived back in Nairobi on New Year’s Day, just in time to pick up my brother! From there, we headed off on Safari to the Masaai Mara. Going on safari has been a dream of mine ever since I was a little kid, and doing it, finally, way surpassed my wildest expectations. It was incredible. After two days of game drives through the Mara, we headed to Lake Nakuru. However, before we left we visited the Masaai Village where we were presented with a welcoming dance, and offered cow’s blood straight from the cow’s neck. My father and I took part, but my brother and mother had no interest, and will probably never forgive the two of us for having done so. After the Safari, all four of us headed to Njabini where I had the opportunity of showing off the place where I have been living since October. My family immediately fell in love with the kids (just as I had) and vise versa. Having them there with me was a feeling ill never forget.
Unfortunately, that next night was time to say goodbye. The two weeks with them had flown by faster than I could have ever imagined. It was back to New Jersey and DC for them and back to Njabini for me.
After getting off a very rainy Matatu ride, I knew the hike back up the mountain to our home was going to be a muddy one. I have learned that this hike in flipflops is not a fun one when mud is involved, so, I threw them in my bag, rolled up my jeans, and walked barefoot up the muddy road carrying a camera bag, backpack, and duffle bag in the rain (Dad-don’t worry I put the camera in a plastic bag before hand). As I walked, I thought to myself, “I am back”. I reminded myself of all the crazy experiences I had shared with my family and it made me smile. It made me realize that the answer to my question is “having loved ones visit, despite the pain they leave behind after saying goodbye, is definitely well worth it.”
The past three months I have pondered the possibility of hiking Mount Kilimanjaro during my stay in Africa. I have heard many stories of what an incredible experience it is from the various people I have met. I always found myself so jealous of such an accomplishment, but have never accepted the idea of doing it myself because of the cost. Well, all that hesitation was thrown out the window when a wonderfully passionate and dedicated woman from the states came to volunteer here for the second time. She said “If I was able to raise the money to do, what makes you think you cant?” That night she and I set up a firstgiving site to help make my trip in February happen. So far I have raised nearly $1,300. I need $2,000 to fund my trip. However, my goal is $5,000 so that any money over $2,000 gets donated to Flying Kites. I am so excited and think that it’s definitely a possibility that I raise the money. If you, or someone you know wants to donate to a very exciting cause, a little bit goes a long way! The URL to my firstgiving site is,
steph! I loved this blog post- they always make me cry haha!- your parents and casey's visit sounds amazing. I miss u sooo much, cant wait to hear about Mt Killimengaro ( definitly not spelled right ha)
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Hi Stephanie, loved this blog and the pictures. Your dad shared some pictures with us and how much they enjoyed being with you too. He is going to do a slide show for us at Prep. The day he planned we had snow, lots of it school was closed. So glad you're doing well and loving every minute. Enjoy! Stay Well
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