Day 230

Just a couple weeks ago I turned to Bethany and said “man, I’m on cloud nine right now.” Her response somewhat caught me by surprise. “Steph, you’ve been saying that for months.”

This simple interaction has been on my mind for some time now. I have traced the last couple of months in my head. I remember saying that in Egypt while horseback riding through the Sahara desert after sunset with the Pyramids at our backs. I remember saying that while my Grandfather and Uncle came to visit. I remember saying that over a million times while being surrounded by children that I love. I am left grateful at what my life has become over the past 7 months.

A couple months ago I was faced with an issue I wasn’t sure how I was going to solve. My visa had expired and I still had 3 months left in Kenya. Leaving the country and coming back was an obvious solution however, my bank account stared me in the face and laughed. There was no way I was going to be able to afford a trip outside East Africa. Enter to the equation, two incredible Flying Kites visitors that brought me along on some of their Nairobi visits and treated me to an unforgettable night at one of the nicest hotels in all of Africa. The Giraffe Manor is a beautiful place in itself, add the fact that giraffes surround the property and greet you through the window, and I, was “on cloud nine”. That night a group of about 4 couples from Missouri also arrived at Giraffe Manor. It was merely minutes after their arrival that conversation sparked between all of us. After some time, my trip to Kenya came up in discussion and my visa issue was out in the open. No longer than 20 minutes later, did one of our new friends approach me with $400 in his hand. He looked at me and said, “Go. Go and come back to complete what you’ve started.” I stared at him and was speechless. Tears ran down my face. I was so touched by this man’s generosity that tears were impossible to hold back.

So, there I was with $400 to use towards a trip to renew my visa. But where to go? Traveling to Egypt has always been this unreachable goal of mine that all of a sudden was achievable. Ever since learning about Egypt in Mr. Tucker’s 8th grade History class, this land rich in history and culture was a place I had to visit. Although Egypt was in a state of unrest due to the Revolution that was taking place, I knew that turning down such an opportunity would be something I would regret for the rest of my life. I couldn’t let some instability hold me back. With two other volunteer friends on board, it was a done deal. Bethany, Erin and I flew into Cairo on the 11th of March, from there, a trip to remember followed.

On day one of our trip, we went directly to the Giza Pyramids, on camelback nonetheless. I have no words to describe the sheer excitement I felt as I faced such impressive and remarkable pieces of history. As my friends and I stared jaw dropped in amazement we noticed silence all around us. What is usually one of the biggest tourist destinations in the world was incredibly empty. We were the only people in Cairo it seemed. It was as if they had shutdown Egypt for our arrival. Although we knew that that was far from the truth, it was fun to pretend. With no one around, it was impossible to give up an opportunity to get away with things that normally would be unheard of. So, the three of us were off, up a pyramid. We got nearly 2/3rd of the way up before our guide asked us to come down. Climbing up the pyramid was not only a thrill but a way to truly understand the immense size of these structures.

Day two included a trip to the legendary Cairo Museum, which, turned out to be another unforgettable experience. We spent nearly six hours winding around the museum admiring and soaking in every bit of information that we could as we listened in suspense to our guide describe these ancient artifacts. From King Tut’s burial dress to the numerous mummies on display, the Cairo Museum was filled with excitement. However, once again, that excitement was shared with the three of us and only a handful of other tourists. What usually welcomes nearly 10,000 visitors daily, The Cairo Museum only had 500 people come through its door’s by 5 o’clock that day. The revolution had done some serious harm to the tourist industry and as a result, an equally negative effect on the economy. The revolution also caused some serious physical damage. Around almost every corner stood an empty display case that had been broken into and robbed while the community was so distracted by the overall instability of the country. Despite the violence and chaos that the revolution caused, it was an exciting time for Egyptians. Mubarak’s step down was a huge accomplishment for the country and a reason for celebration. The streets were covered with Egyptian flags, smiles, and stickers that depicted the revolution’s start date, January 25th. It was evident that the dip in the economy and a few stolen artifacts was a small price to pay for Egypt’s Freedom.

Perhaps my favorite day of the trip was our last full day in Cairo. After a cup of tea at a local outdoor café, we spent most of the day at the Bizarre, a famous Egyptian market full with Egyptian spices, jewelry, and souvenirs. After many hours of bargaining and exploring the Bizarre, we took a break for another delicious Egyptian meal. Lunch consisted of falaful, humus, eggplant and BBQ chicken. What made this day so memorable was what followed dinner. Just as the sun was setting the three of us climbed up on horseback and road off into the Saharan Dessert. We rode for nearly half an hour until we reached a hut in the middle of the dessert. There, a fire pit and cups of hot tea waited for us. The three of us along with our guides sat and talked about the Egyptian revolution, culture, and what a typical life in Egypt meant. This conversation lasted for what seemed like hours. Unfortunately it eventually grew time to turn back. Holding on for dear life as these horses ran as fast as they possibly could was an exhilarating experience on its own, add the fact that this was all going on with the most incredible view, the pyramids, in the background and I, was once again, “on cloud nine.”

My Uncle and Grandfather arrived to Kenya on the 19th of March. It was my grandfather’s first time visiting Africa and was my uncle’s first time back to Kenya after volunteering here for nearly 2 years at a Polytechnic 40 years ago. Both were two trips I was very excited to be a part of. After spending 3 days at Flying Kites the three of us were off in search of my Uncle’s old school and home. However, our departure was only after the kids fell in love with both of them. There wasn’t a second during their stay that they weren’t completed surrounded by kids. I think for my grandfather, this was simply because he is the most gentle, loving and friendly man you’ll ever meet. As for my Uncle, I think his knowledge of the kid’s Mother Tongue and overall excitement and energy was more than enough for these children and, of course matrons, to fall completely in love. The next four days or so were spent searching for the Polytechnic and for old friends of my Uncle’s. It was as if our trip was a scavenger hunt and every person we ran in to held a small clue to help us along. Well, our search was a success. Not only did we find the school, we found the family he worked with at the Polytechnic. This family was so genuinely happy to see my uncle after all that time. They treated the three of us like family. They hosted us for 3 days, introduced us to friends, and showed us around their town. I feel so honored to have been a part of this trip. I was so happy to have been there as my Uncle relived such an important part of his life alongside his father.

This past Easter was, for all the right reasons, by far the most unique Easter I have ever been a part of. For one, Easter baskets were replaced with Easter rain boots. The kids were surprised with candy filled boots on Easter Monday morning. Yes, Easter Monday. In Kenya, Easter Sunday doesn’t exist, instead, Easter is always on a Monday. Our Easter continued with an Egg Hunt once the kids’ bellies were full of jellybeans. Being that our kids are known to be fairly competitive with one another, this was on serious Hunt. It will come as no surprise to anyone when I say that an Easter Egg Hunt isn’t the typical method of celebrating Easter in Kenya. Because of this, we wanted to make sure that as many kids as possible could join in on the fun. After every last egg was found, the Flying Kites children were in charge of re-hiding them for our neighbors to find. Through the eyes of a child who has never heard of such a tradition, seeing this take place must have been the most foreign they’ve ever seen. However, after some explanation and encouragement from our kids, the hunt was on and all of our visitors had a great time.

I have found that even the simplest incidents can leave me with a big smile on my face and a warm feeling in my heart. Just the other day, I was outside our gate getting ready to walk down to town when a group of neighborhood kids on their way home from school came over to greet me. After a choir of “jambos” “habaris” and “muthiegas” I noticed a big bush of Honey Suckles behind them and was curious whether or not they knew what they were. Well, they didn’t and when I showed them how to get to the honey inside, they looked at me like I had five heads. It was quite a sight. I’m standing there holding out Honey Suckles to these kids and trying to explain to them how to get to the juice inside using the handful of Kikuyu and Swahili I know. Next thing I know a new group of neighbors turn the corner, this time, two young girls and their cucu (grandmother), each with pounds and pounds of firewood on their backs. They stopped dead in their tracks and ask “ni ni ni” which in this situation basically translates to “what in the world are you doing?” My response was simple, “juice!” I took three suckles off the bush and brought the juice up to their lips. With big smiles on their faces, each of them said “Tamu sana” almost in uniform, “very sweet”. This interaction immediately brought me back to spring time in New Jersey when my mother would teach me how to get the nectar from our honey suckle bushes. Now, it was my turn to share this secret.

Just this morning as I was on my way into town to steal a bit of electricity from a nearby café, a neighbor of ours came running up to me and asked “Auntie Steph I walk with you?” Well, the answer to that was obvious. Njega was on his was to school. He and I walked the entire way into town hand in hand sharing headphones as we danced, snapped, and sang along to whatever happened to come on my iPod. These small encounters are so carefree and effortless making them so unforgettable. I will miss those walks into town with whomever I just so happened to be sharing the road.

As I sit writing my last Blog entry with only a week left in Kenya, I find myself distracted at the fact that it truly has already been 8 months since I arrived. Where did the time go? My time in Kenya has changed me. It has changed the way I view the world, it has changed my definition of “normal”, it has made me stronger and has changed and simplified what I consider to be “needs”. I feel so fortunate to have had the opportunity to take a year off before college to really understand more of the world and to understand more about myself. I wanted to take a year off to better someone else’s life and to give as much as possible to kids in need. However, I know that I have gained so much more than I could have possibly given in the past 8 months. I have learned so much from this experience but the most important lesson I have learned is a child’s undeniable ability to love. The children I have spent nearly everyday with over the past 230 days, despite their harsh histories and reasons for ending up in a child’s home, know how to love. I just hope I have given them half the affection they have given me.

The hardest part about falling head over heals in love with 27 children is the part where I have to say goodbye. I leave in a week, on the morning of the 31st. How will I say goodbye to the Flying Kites Kids, the staff, the town of Njabini, Kenya in general? I am not too sure. How do I reenter society after 8 months of life in a village in Africa? That, too, I am not so sure about. I do know however, that it will be a challenge. I also know, that my return home will be met by my loving family and friends. It will also be met with simple conveniences that I have missed so much. Reliable Internet, showers, Dunkin Doughnuts coffee, my car, ice, and a #22 from Brennan’s Deli will no longer be things I long for. With a week left, I am full with mixed emotions. I am sad to be leaving behind so many “cloud nine experiences” in Africa, but am confident that there will be just as many waiting for me back home.

See you all in a week! Love and Kisses, "Auntie Steph"

Day 153

16 people setting off to climb Africa’s highest peak in honor of 27 children is a wildly emotional vision. Being at the summit and realizing that that dream is now a reality, is an entirely different story.

My desire to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro started, I think, before I even realized. With an incredibly adventurous family (including an aunt and an uncle who beat me to the summit some years ago), doing something along these lines has been in my blood since the day I was born. Being in Africa all this time and hearing the stories of so many people who had completed the hike, made the trip almost irresistible. Add all of that to my knowing that the climb would benefit the most amazing children in the world, and it was a done deal.

However, there were a few obstacles that I had to sort out before signing on. On the top of my list I found “Funding?” and “Gear?” burning holes through my paper. Both of those, now, seem like small milestones in the scheme of things, thanks to so many incredible people. “Funding” was checked off by several of you who visited my First Giving site and supported me from over seas. Thanks to a handful of generous volunteers from the last Kili trip and a few friends of mine here at Flying Kites, I was able to check “Gear” off as well. With that out of my way, “Training” was next, going for a run and drinking many liters of water daily was how I prepared myself.

A few days before leaving for Tanzania, the rest of our Kili team arrived in Njabini. This included a group of 14 people from all over, LA, Tennessee, Colorado, and Canada to be exact. Although we seemed very different from one another at the beginning of our journey, we would soon learn that our differences in our backgrounds, strengths, and likes and dislikes, would inevitably bring us closer. On Valentine’s Day, all 16 of us jumped on a bus and headed south on a 7-hour drive. After spending one night in the town of Arusha we headed to the mountain that next morning.

The hike itself lasted 7 days, however, when looking back, that week felt more like mere minutes. We started our climb in what I kept referring to as a “Dr. Seuss meets Alice in Wonderland forest”. The vegetation was like nothing I had ever seen. Trees were covered in stringy, spongy liken, and each branch bent in multiple directions, it was beautiful. After a couple days of hiking, our surroundings morphed into rocky terrain covered in thick Y-shaped trees that seemed to lead the way. During these few days, the sight of elegant waterfalls scattered the land. In fact, a handful of times we crossed paths with these waterfalls and as a result, had to tiptoe across them on rickety rocks. Each day we would end up at a new campsite all of which looked more beautiful than the last. It was an unforgettable experience to go to bed each night in a tent that sat on a cliff overlooking some of the most scenic views in the world. Our camp consisted of 8 sleeping tents, a dining tent, and a kitchen tent. After a day’s hike, which could have lasted anywhere from 4 to 15 hours, we were spoiled to a fabulous dinner prepared by our team’s cooks. Dinner was followed by a night’s sleep under the stars. Sleeping on solid Earth was a challenge at first, but after recognizing how badly we needed to get a good rest; sleep didn’t seem to be an issue.

By the time Day Four came around, we had made it past rocky landscapes and were now on to snow. Being at such high altitudes combined with being so close to the Equator, the sun was very strong. Due to the fact that we were so high up, the temperature had dropped exponentially, and unfortunately, sun exposure was the least of my concerns. One night after hiking all day on snow-covered land, I closed my eyes and was asleep for nearly 20 minutes before waking up in excruciating pain. Both of my eyes felt like they were on fire. I resorted to using my Camelback as a cold pack to sooth some of the pain. For nearly 10 hours, I physically couldn’t open my eyes. I was not only terrified at the thought that I might be forced to turn back, but, was genuinely afraid that I would never regain me eyesight. Thankfully, I woke up the next morning and was able to see, not perfectly, but could see nonetheless. One of our guides told me that what I was experiencing was Snow Blindness due to the fact that I hadn’t worn sunglasses the day before. Purely out of luck, one of our team members had a grandfather who was an eye doctor. Before leaving, he stocked her with medical tools in case of an emergency. I owe my getting up the mountain and possibly, even my eyesight to her and her grandfather. That day we had a 4-hour hike up some of the steepest parts of the trip. This included The Barranco Wall where we were nearly 150ft up in the air clinging onto vertical rock, not the best time to be partially blind.

By the next day my eyesight was back and I continued to make it up the mountain one step at a time.

During our trek we experienced rain almost every day. Some days it persisted for most of the day but others it was just enough to make everything wet. On occasion rain would turn into pea-sized hail. Weather definitely played huge part in our hike. However, Summit night was as dry as could be, and that alone is reason for all of us to say that we had good weather.

Summit night was by far the hardest part of the hike for me. At 11:00 pm, after a full day of hiking and only a couple hours of what you could barely consider sleep, the 16 of us woke up, had a quick snack, and headed up the mountain. We raced against time to make it to the top before sunrise. At the time I had to keep reminding myself that what we were doing was actually happening. It was an incredibly peaceful part of the trip. Our team hiked one by one in a line as we took baby steps upward. At the front of the line, our guide, Julius, sang in Kiswahili. In the distance, an array of headlamps belonging to other hikers, lead the way. The night’s stillness combined with Julius’ singing and a spectacular setting, made for an extremely meditative environment. Most people talk about fighting altitude sickness and cold temperatures as the toughest obstacles when pushing your body up to nearly 20,000 ft., for me, it was staying awake. It wasn’t that I was bored, that was the last thing I was feeling, it was simply exhaustion. At almost every break during that 8-hour hike to the summit, I fell asleep. Looking back I can laugh about the ridiculousness of the situation; I genuinely had to be woken up a couple times while climbing up one of the steepest parts of the trek!

Once we arrived at the summit, the most striking sunrise was there to greet us. Before celebrating what we had just accomplished, we found ourselves with jaws dropped, admiring the day’s first minutes simultaneously as the moon faded behind us. After a few moments the celebration started and the tears flew. Standing on the top of Mt. Kilimanjaro after pushing myself harder than I thought possible, while looking out on the world, and thinking about the incredible children who inspired me to be there, tears were impossible to hold back. Before the cold could numb our bodies completely, we started down the mountain. After 3 hours of hiking back to camp, a nap, for me, was top on my list of priorities. After a couple hours of sleep we all sat down for lunch before starting another 4-hour climb down to our final campsite.

Dinner that last night was a mixture of emotions. We were all so proud that we had accomplished what he had come there to do, but were sad that it was over. Not only was the hike itself one of the most amazing experiences of my life but getting to know the people I was so lucky to share it with, was an amazing experience on its own. I can genuinely say that each of the 15 people I met just a couple days before heading to Tanzania, is now a friend of mine, and I couldn’t have imagined doing it with anyone else. Each of them played a huge role in getting me to the top. When I was terrified of the thought of having to turn around because my eyes were practically useless, all 15 of them got me through that day and ultimately through to the top. I have left that week with memories and with 15 new people I can sincerely call great friends.

I have a lot to be grateful for today. These past 5 months have been more rewarding than I could have possibly imagined. I hope that everyone who has been a part of my experience knows how fortunate I am to have them supporting me, whether they are from the US or Kenya, I wouldn’t be here without you. So, to everyone that has been so good to me, Thank You!

Hope all is well, Ill be home in 3 months! Love and Kisses, “Auntie Stephanie”