Caaaaan I get a BLOG roll please? BLOGBLOGBLOGBLOGBLOGBLOGBLOGBLOGBLOGBLOGLOGLOGBLOG
BLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOG!!!!!
And we're back. And we're sorry. But don't fear because BLOGstreet's back, ALRIGHT! It has been two moons, many suns, and almost no discernable diseases since we last wrote. We really have no excuse. So we thought we'd pick up where we left off... ZANZIBAR!
For the first time since we've been here, we had enough free time and energy to go out more than once a month. Some notable anecdotes included The Fall of 2009, followed by the Great Shoestring Incident also, curiously enough, of 2009. To properly explain the asthetics of this event, imagine a tree falling in the forest. Now imagine Molly Kane as that tree. In response to the much pondered and infrequently answered question- if a tree falls in the forest and no one's around, does it make a sound?, we would like to counter with another question: if a Molly Kane falls over in an African bar and an unfortunate number of people are around, does it make a sound? The answer, my friends, along with her ill-fated shoelaces, is now blowing in the wind.
As pathetic as it may seem, the catalyst of The Fall of 2009 had nothing to do with things normally found in a bar, but rather her blasphemous shoestrings. The whole incident resulted in the FIMA of Molly's recent months, or as she is more commonly known, Elan, helicoptering in to clean up the national disaster. After assessing the situation- aka staring at molly on the floor for about 30 straight minutes, Elan executed project "Help a Sista Out", tied Molly's shoelaces, and proceeded to airlift her out of harm's way.
Another incident occurred on a dark and stormy night. When one of the seven failed to return to the house, we knew..... THE LOVE PANTHER HAD STRUCK AGAIN. (cue flash of lightning and roll of thunder. hear my cry.) Blending in with the other mangy cats that roam the streets of Stone Town, slinking his way through chain link fences and shimmying up drain pipes, we found that the Love Panther had found a new litter of kittens: THE SIT ZANZIBAR STUDENTS. If you haven't figured out who the Love Panther is by now, we'll give you a hint. His other aliases include Raging Willikeestah, Beloved Bloodhound, Shithead, and Wilbo Baggins. After we did some sleuthing and found out about the latest attack of the Love Panther, we have since created a full screen production musical that we're pretty sure has Broadway potential. Its headlining hit goes a little something like this: "He's a loooove panther with a... BAD habit... a BAD habit for snuuuuugs.." The star of the musical, is of course, the love panther himself (WILL), clad in a full body unitard complete with ears and tail. Think a maybe racier and clearly superior version of CATS.... with one cast member.
On a different note, lucky for all involved, April Fools just happened to fall right in the middle of our stay in Zanzibar. Throughout the program, as we've mentioned about 100 times, we haven't had much free time on the trip, our schedule is always changing, and we're usually confused about what it is we're actually doing. Taking advantage of this confusion, Will, Sofi, and Elan plotted and wrote a fake CONFUSE-A-TRON schedule, complete with fake lectures titled "The Wazungu ('white people' in swahili) Massacre", "Tropical Yeti Culture", "The Sisterhood of Traveling Buibui", and "Talibanzibar- Are You Safe?". The schedule also included activities such as a bench carving workshop, "Mangrove Outreach", and about 7 harbor tours. While these were all seemingly implausible activities, the group simply took one look at the schedule, fell for it hook line and sinker, and proceeded to be pissed off for the next four days, thinking that their one free day had been taken away to go on their sixth harbor tour. When Will, Sofi, and Elan realized that they weren't going to get the joke, they made another even more ridiculous schedule, and handed it to them the next day. We can't remember exactly, but we think that the activity "Braid each other's pubic hair" from 4-4:30 gave them away, and the joke was over. The fact that they all believed the schedule in the first place is testament to how confused we have been for this whole entire trip.
Believe it or not, our best meal to date has been at a Chinese restaurant in Zanzibar. During the meal, we played murderer, a game kind of similar to mafia that involves a murderer who blinks at people to kill them, and then a trial with the townspeople with accusations and voting. We felt slightly guilty for the other terrified unsuspecting people and waiters at the restaurant when Beth Ann fell out of her chair while making choking noises, and Sofi's gagging face fell into her food. Elan and Molly were of course the first people to accuse anyone, and while they weren't busy prosecuting SEEMINGLY innocent townsfolk, they were conducting invisible orchestras with their chopsticks. For some reason (maybe our first taste of real MSG in two months?), this dinner was magical for all involved, and we still regularly sing its praises.
While in Zanzibar, we also visited a completely "green" and self-sustained island called Chumbe, where Molly barfed on a fish while snorkelling, we visited a rural area where we got to see and participate in a two hour long traditional dance complete with stray drunk audience member who could not resist the call of the stage, we saw a massive real dead shark being hacked to pieces and being sold, we visited a night market where we ate swahili pizza, we bought beaded bracelets from singing and hopping maasai men, and danced the night away in our mumus.
This still leaves a month that we have to catch you up on, but in the words of Beth Ann, "magic takes time."
Hope you enjoyed our zanziBLOG!
XOXO
Gossip Love Panther #9
Friday, May 1, 2009
Thursday, April 2, 2009
LONG TIME
Dear Bilbo BLOGGINS.....
Almost as depressing as the supposed break-up of Hollywood's golden couple, Heidi and Spencer (sadly enough this is the only news we've heard in the past 72 hours), is the fact that this will be our first BLOG in nearly 3 weeks.
Where do we begin?
Let us start with a briefing on our current status. After departing from Lamu, we stayed for two and one half weeks in Mombasa, with host families. We spent two days on the mainland of Tanzania, more specifically the cities of Tanga and Dar es Salaam, and now we are on the island of ZANZIBAR.... We know you are singing Jack Black in your head right now, and we think that's entirely appropriate.
MOMBASA, which actually sounds a lot like Mufasa, just some food for thought...
And now we will ask you to please close your eyes and imagine a herd of new born naked mole rats adorned with hair extensions and ankle length skirts walking off the plane and into the arms of our host familes... Needless to say they have been crazy about us ever since. You can open your eyes now.
Elan's family lived about a twenty minute walk away from school right across from the hospital (key) in a neighborhood called Kizingo. She had a 20 year old r and b singing brother, a 19 year old sister, a 12 year old sister, a 10 year old brother, and a 2 year old sister. Highlights of the homestay included french fries for breakfast, lunch and dinner, some bonding experiences at the hospital, candlelight dinners with my host brother and Cher, and attending five weddings in a hot pink tie dyed mumu and leopard print head scarf. Try your best not to be too jealous. (We really need to figure out how to upload pictures.) For her viewing pleasure, on the Kenyan version of One Saturday Morning, Elan experienced possibly the greatest work of cartoon genius ever created. We give you: THE SILVER BRUMBY. Why this show hasn't yet made it to America, we are still pondering and lamenting. Let us ask you to close your eyes for a second time and imagine the Australian outback minus the kangaroos, and plus a herd of stampeding unicorns complete with Australian accents and flowing silver manes, and you have The Silver Brumby. You may open your eyes. Don't worry if this vision of beauty has caused one sparkling tear to trickle down your cheek. It is entirely natural. Elan couldn't stop crying for a week. The episode Elan saw was titled "Wombat in Trouble", but thanks to the Silver Brumby, no more wombats will ever wombat around fear again. Thank you, Silver Brumby.
Molly's family lived about an hour walk away from the school and in one of the shadier areas of Mombasa, but in the nicest house in town! ( the exclamation point stays...) She lived with we think about five families, all we know is that she had a minimum of four aunties, one uncle, one grandpa (who always asked her why she wasn't married), like six cousins, four siblings, one bed-mate, two goats, and a partridge in a pear tree. Her family was the greatest ever, and was really helpful when we got sick.. even though Molly is pretty sure they were more concerned about Elan's low white blood cell count especially when they said "but she is so white, how could she be lacking so many white blood cells?" Molly shared a bed a couple nights over the course of her homestay, and would occasionally wake up spooning her 22 year old cousin, which was not awkward at all, until we had one naked encounter, which really changed the bed dynamics, but we have worked it through. The goats were actually the most terrifying thing to walk the streets of Mombasa, they escaped a few times which sent the whole family into a hectic and epic chase, but don't worry, citizens, the goats are safe inside our stomachs now... For Molly's viewing pleasure, BOLLYWOOD! Let us take you on another visual journey(now would be the time to close your eyes once again) through space and time, into the far away land of the Indian version of Little Orphan Annie, complete with knife wounds, massive black braids, chorus lines, and death by amusment park. It is ok if have started crying again, it really is beautiful. You may open your eyes once more.
Now that you have successfully completed "Homestays 101" we feel it is time to move into "Lectures 607"- six hours a day, seven days a week. We wish we could say more but our eyes are still glazed and we are currently experiencing post-traumatic stress disorder.
After Mombasa, we moved on to TANZANIA.. on a bus that was probably the love child of the
"Hooters and Fanta airline" and Freddie Mercury, who coincidently was born in Zanzibar, our current location. This love child featured a horn that we have reason to believe is the standard mating call for all hyphy buses in the greater metropolitan area of Mombasa all the way down the coast to Dar es Salaam, as well as seats that were decorated with drawings that looked like flying saucers, fish eyes, and every flavor of doritos this world has ever seen. If you have been to the bathroom in Taco Bell, you know exactly what we're talking about. Our first stop along the mating channel was Tanga, where thousands of massive flying dinosaur bugs met their end on the walls and floor of Molly and Sofi's room, while Elan ran around screaming... We also visited a cave that resembled human genitalia (our tour guides words not our own), and saw a dead chicken (the result of witchcraft) and a dead deer (the result of hunting dogs, and machetes, and possibly some blow darts we really cannot be too sure). Oh and our van got stuck in the mud.
Dar (that is short hand for Dar es Salaam) featured being herded like cattle to everywhere and nowhere at the same time. MAGIC. Our only definite location for the entire stray 36 hours was SUBWAY. We are not sure if Jared would have given the two thumbs up, or if we ate the freshest, but we CAN tell you that we one-upped the 5 DOLLAR FOOTLONG, with the approximate 74 CENT FOOTLONG... try singing that! After Dar we took a two hour ferry to the island of Zanzibar. More details on ZANZIBAR later, but for now...
XOXO,
Gossip Gird Your Loins
Almost as depressing as the supposed break-up of Hollywood's golden couple, Heidi and Spencer (sadly enough this is the only news we've heard in the past 72 hours), is the fact that this will be our first BLOG in nearly 3 weeks.
Where do we begin?
Let us start with a briefing on our current status. After departing from Lamu, we stayed for two and one half weeks in Mombasa, with host families. We spent two days on the mainland of Tanzania, more specifically the cities of Tanga and Dar es Salaam, and now we are on the island of ZANZIBAR.... We know you are singing Jack Black in your head right now, and we think that's entirely appropriate.
MOMBASA, which actually sounds a lot like Mufasa, just some food for thought...
And now we will ask you to please close your eyes and imagine a herd of new born naked mole rats adorned with hair extensions and ankle length skirts walking off the plane and into the arms of our host familes... Needless to say they have been crazy about us ever since. You can open your eyes now.
Elan's family lived about a twenty minute walk away from school right across from the hospital (key) in a neighborhood called Kizingo. She had a 20 year old r and b singing brother, a 19 year old sister, a 12 year old sister, a 10 year old brother, and a 2 year old sister. Highlights of the homestay included french fries for breakfast, lunch and dinner, some bonding experiences at the hospital, candlelight dinners with my host brother and Cher, and attending five weddings in a hot pink tie dyed mumu and leopard print head scarf. Try your best not to be too jealous. (We really need to figure out how to upload pictures.) For her viewing pleasure, on the Kenyan version of One Saturday Morning, Elan experienced possibly the greatest work of cartoon genius ever created. We give you: THE SILVER BRUMBY. Why this show hasn't yet made it to America, we are still pondering and lamenting. Let us ask you to close your eyes for a second time and imagine the Australian outback minus the kangaroos, and plus a herd of stampeding unicorns complete with Australian accents and flowing silver manes, and you have The Silver Brumby. You may open your eyes. Don't worry if this vision of beauty has caused one sparkling tear to trickle down your cheek. It is entirely natural. Elan couldn't stop crying for a week. The episode Elan saw was titled "Wombat in Trouble", but thanks to the Silver Brumby, no more wombats will ever wombat around fear again. Thank you, Silver Brumby.
Molly's family lived about an hour walk away from the school and in one of the shadier areas of Mombasa, but in the nicest house in town! ( the exclamation point stays...) She lived with we think about five families, all we know is that she had a minimum of four aunties, one uncle, one grandpa (who always asked her why she wasn't married), like six cousins, four siblings, one bed-mate, two goats, and a partridge in a pear tree. Her family was the greatest ever, and was really helpful when we got sick.. even though Molly is pretty sure they were more concerned about Elan's low white blood cell count especially when they said "but she is so white, how could she be lacking so many white blood cells?" Molly shared a bed a couple nights over the course of her homestay, and would occasionally wake up spooning her 22 year old cousin, which was not awkward at all, until we had one naked encounter, which really changed the bed dynamics, but we have worked it through. The goats were actually the most terrifying thing to walk the streets of Mombasa, they escaped a few times which sent the whole family into a hectic and epic chase, but don't worry, citizens, the goats are safe inside our stomachs now... For Molly's viewing pleasure, BOLLYWOOD! Let us take you on another visual journey(now would be the time to close your eyes once again) through space and time, into the far away land of the Indian version of Little Orphan Annie, complete with knife wounds, massive black braids, chorus lines, and death by amusment park. It is ok if have started crying again, it really is beautiful. You may open your eyes once more.
Now that you have successfully completed "Homestays 101" we feel it is time to move into "Lectures 607"- six hours a day, seven days a week. We wish we could say more but our eyes are still glazed and we are currently experiencing post-traumatic stress disorder.
After Mombasa, we moved on to TANZANIA.. on a bus that was probably the love child of the
"Hooters and Fanta airline" and Freddie Mercury, who coincidently was born in Zanzibar, our current location. This love child featured a horn that we have reason to believe is the standard mating call for all hyphy buses in the greater metropolitan area of Mombasa all the way down the coast to Dar es Salaam, as well as seats that were decorated with drawings that looked like flying saucers, fish eyes, and every flavor of doritos this world has ever seen. If you have been to the bathroom in Taco Bell, you know exactly what we're talking about. Our first stop along the mating channel was Tanga, where thousands of massive flying dinosaur bugs met their end on the walls and floor of Molly and Sofi's room, while Elan ran around screaming... We also visited a cave that resembled human genitalia (our tour guides words not our own), and saw a dead chicken (the result of witchcraft) and a dead deer (the result of hunting dogs, and machetes, and possibly some blow darts we really cannot be too sure). Oh and our van got stuck in the mud.
Dar (that is short hand for Dar es Salaam) featured being herded like cattle to everywhere and nowhere at the same time. MAGIC. Our only definite location for the entire stray 36 hours was SUBWAY. We are not sure if Jared would have given the two thumbs up, or if we ate the freshest, but we CAN tell you that we one-upped the 5 DOLLAR FOOTLONG, with the approximate 74 CENT FOOTLONG... try singing that! After Dar we took a two hour ferry to the island of Zanzibar. More details on ZANZIBAR later, but for now...
XOXO,
Gossip Gird Your Loins
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
BIG HOT MESSSSSSS....
When we started this BLOG we were sitting on an airplane on our way back from Lamu, mind you we left Lamu a week ago, however, our BLOG like a fine wine is only better after time....
Everything in the airplane is orange, including, as unfair as it may seem, the flight attendants miniskirts. If Hooters, myspace, and Fanta all joined forces to start an airline THIS WOULD BE IT!
LOST and FOUND in translation.
Here are some conversations we've had that may be the answers to the world's greatest questions, OR they may be the reasons why we were all confused in the first place, the jury is still out so we'll let you be the judge.
Scenario 1: TRUTLE MIDWIFERY
Everything in the airplane is orange, including, as unfair as it may seem, the flight attendants miniskirts. If Hooters, myspace, and Fanta all joined forces to start an airline THIS WOULD BE IT!
LOST and FOUND in translation.
Here are some conversations we've had that may be the answers to the world's greatest questions, OR they may be the reasons why we were all confused in the first place, the jury is still out so we'll let you be the judge.
Scenario 1: TRUTLE MIDWIFERY
Not the most obvious of professions, but a noble one none the less. One night on the beach a weathered sea captain explained to us the ancient art of being a turtle midwife. After being shown, through extensive diagrams drawn in the sand....(Put the food here....here...there...and a little back here...) we can proudlysay if there was a struggling turtle in labor we could rise to the occasion and deliver an astounding preformance of turtle midwifery.
Scenario 2: Did you eat chicken for breakfast?
This morning before boarding the plane a man asked Molly if she had eaten chicken for breakfast. This is exactly how the conversation progressed:
Man: Did you eat chicken for breakfast?
Molly: No, I had mahamri
Man: Oh, because you are sweating a lot....
And that was it. We think this means that if you eat chicken, especially during the early hours of the day, you are likely to sweat profusely for the rest of the day which is especially disconcerting
to those of us who can no longer wear deoderant (see awkward health issues).
Scenario 3: 800 KILOMETERS
Running in Kenya is no joke. One day when Elan and Will were standing on the beach and a man ran up to them basically yelled in their faces... I AM RUNNING.....I AM RUNNING 800 KILOMETERS... then sprinted off... He only made it about maybe 100 KILOMETERS!
Scenario 4: Octapus in a bag.
The other day when we were walking down this street in Lamu, and when we say street what we really mean is a walkway about four feet wide surrounded by super tall buildings, when a man approached us and said "look into my bag!" We thought he was trying to sell us something, like candy or peanuts, but we were wrong. Before we even got close enough to look into his bag he looks up at us, with a big toothless grin and said "it's a dead octapus" and left laughing away.
Awkward health issues
1)Wills worm
2)Clogged Armpits
3) Barfing into squatty potties (looking at you Sofi)
4) Dysentary(Molly)
5) Awkward/Terrifying visits to the hospital, to find that her 104.6 degree fever was due to a low count in white bloodcells (ELAN)
6)Hundreds of mosqutio bites
7) Barfing off of boats (also ELAN)
8)Numb big toes(Molly and Alison)
9)Constipation
10) Inflamed kidneys and intestine, and a possible kidney stone (molly)
No big deal....
Were back in Mombasa now, working on our Inependent Study Projects and doing our urban homestays.... We'll try to be better at blogging!
XOXO,
Gossip Invalids
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
AAAYYYY!!!! parti mbili
Let us begin by telling you that this is our third attempt at writing "AAAYYYY!!!!! parti mbili". Welcome back! We're currently jazz snapping to some of the most soulful gospel music we personally have ever heard. It actually sounds like a mix between Jesus Christ superstar and a cut from Aladdin, with maybe a twist of Kenny G. If Kenny G sang, this is what he would sound like. It's a good thing Kenny G doesn't sing.
Anyway, to continue our family tree, Beth Ann is married to the father of the group, Sofi. Papa Sof is actually our guest BLOGGER today. Ironically, Sofi is possibly, and when we say possibly we mean definitely, the most feminine person in this group. The Sofinator, derived from fellow Californian and former body builder, the govenator, is also living the American Dream. Sofi resides on the father branch because she reigns over the group with a firm hand, but a weak wrist. She has never actually carried her own suitcase, cleared her own plate, or in honor of Lamu, muled the water from our academic directors home to our own. However, these weak wrists are sheathed in elbow length gloves. Everyone is blinded by love for our dearest sof, so we graciously help carry her load!
Next is our first born, Maggie. Tall and lanky with a face that could launch a thousand dhows. If she wasn't Helen of Troy she'd be Julia Styles from "10 Things I Hate About You". When she's not busy starting the war to end all wars (sorry achilles) she enjoys a glorious Backstreet Boys cut. Maggie gave us the greatest gift we could ever get, AMANDA BYNES.
Where there is a Will.... there is an infant. Let us quote a man much smarter than ourselves, and for that matter Will, when we say that will is our "fruity shampoo" scented "candle in the wind". Will may actually be the most laid back person we have literally ever met. The fact that we make him rage on a daily basis is no small feat. Will's position at being the only boy is not an easy seat to fill, however, he sits on his throne/high chair in all of his rasta glory.
Ali is from Oregon, but we tell everyone we got her from the pound. Alis is not mutt however, she is a purebred golden retriever. Absolutely loved by all, especially the African men, even when she pees on things. Most notably her own arm when she got a jellyfish sting.
It should be of no surprise to our avid readers that we have managed to solidify our places as the terrible toddler twins, with part time positions as the grand-pa (Elan) and crazy aunt (Molly). To give you a better idea of who each person is in the group we have come up with a series of more analogies.
If we were all mixed drinks:
Sofi: Cosmo
Molly: Tequila sunrise
Elan: Dirty Shirley
Ali: Pina Colada
Will: Burbon sour/ Appletini/white russian
Maggie: Rum and Coke
Beth-Ann: Bloody Mary
If we were Super Heroes
Will: Robin
Beth-Ann: Wonderwoman
Ali: Invisigirl
Sofi: Catwoman
Maggie: Yellow Power-ranger
and We would walk through life holding hands as the Hulk and Quail-man
If we were cities
Maggie: Prague
Will: Mumbai
Molly: Rio d.
Elan: the lost city of Atlantis
Ali: Sydney
Beth-Ann: Montreal
Sofi: Madrid
In current news we have actually gotten some free time which we spend on Shella (Google image it!) eating fresh mangoes, samosas, riding camels, swimming and working on our tans. It is frightening how aware you become of your own whiteness here, at first we felt very out of place, and found it very curious the way children were contantly laughing, pointing and pulling at our every limb... We assumed we had some chakula, that is swahili for food (we don't normally endorse the usage of foreign languages in a BLOG, but we think it's important to know how to say food in every language) However, that is neither here nor there, what is clear, is that it wasn't food on our face it was our face on our face.... Thus we have been working on our tans.
In a related note, the tables have turned, Molly upped her pealing sunburn count, while Elan has held strong. The score stands thus; Molly: 3 Elan:5
Push-update: Molly: 11 Elan:7
In closing, last night we were kickin it homie style as the only people in a bar smoking hookah and watching the greates cinematic adventure this world has ever seen, Miami Vice.
XOXO,
Gossip B-A-N-A-N-A-S
Anyway, to continue our family tree, Beth Ann is married to the father of the group, Sofi. Papa Sof is actually our guest BLOGGER today. Ironically, Sofi is possibly, and when we say possibly we mean definitely, the most feminine person in this group. The Sofinator, derived from fellow Californian and former body builder, the govenator, is also living the American Dream. Sofi resides on the father branch because she reigns over the group with a firm hand, but a weak wrist. She has never actually carried her own suitcase, cleared her own plate, or in honor of Lamu, muled the water from our academic directors home to our own. However, these weak wrists are sheathed in elbow length gloves. Everyone is blinded by love for our dearest sof, so we graciously help carry her load!
Next is our first born, Maggie. Tall and lanky with a face that could launch a thousand dhows. If she wasn't Helen of Troy she'd be Julia Styles from "10 Things I Hate About You". When she's not busy starting the war to end all wars (sorry achilles) she enjoys a glorious Backstreet Boys cut. Maggie gave us the greatest gift we could ever get, AMANDA BYNES.
Where there is a Will.... there is an infant. Let us quote a man much smarter than ourselves, and for that matter Will, when we say that will is our "fruity shampoo" scented "candle in the wind". Will may actually be the most laid back person we have literally ever met. The fact that we make him rage on a daily basis is no small feat. Will's position at being the only boy is not an easy seat to fill, however, he sits on his throne/high chair in all of his rasta glory.
Ali is from Oregon, but we tell everyone we got her from the pound. Alis is not mutt however, she is a purebred golden retriever. Absolutely loved by all, especially the African men, even when she pees on things. Most notably her own arm when she got a jellyfish sting.
It should be of no surprise to our avid readers that we have managed to solidify our places as the terrible toddler twins, with part time positions as the grand-pa (Elan) and crazy aunt (Molly). To give you a better idea of who each person is in the group we have come up with a series of more analogies.
If we were all mixed drinks:
Sofi: Cosmo
Molly: Tequila sunrise
Elan: Dirty Shirley
Ali: Pina Colada
Will: Burbon sour/ Appletini/white russian
Maggie: Rum and Coke
Beth-Ann: Bloody Mary
If we were Super Heroes
Will: Robin
Beth-Ann: Wonderwoman
Ali: Invisigirl
Sofi: Catwoman
Maggie: Yellow Power-ranger
and We would walk through life holding hands as the Hulk and Quail-man
If we were cities
Maggie: Prague
Will: Mumbai
Molly: Rio d.
Elan: the lost city of Atlantis
Ali: Sydney
Beth-Ann: Montreal
Sofi: Madrid
In current news we have actually gotten some free time which we spend on Shella (Google image it!) eating fresh mangoes, samosas, riding camels, swimming and working on our tans. It is frightening how aware you become of your own whiteness here, at first we felt very out of place, and found it very curious the way children were contantly laughing, pointing and pulling at our every limb... We assumed we had some chakula, that is swahili for food (we don't normally endorse the usage of foreign languages in a BLOG, but we think it's important to know how to say food in every language) However, that is neither here nor there, what is clear, is that it wasn't food on our face it was our face on our face.... Thus we have been working on our tans.
In a related note, the tables have turned, Molly upped her pealing sunburn count, while Elan has held strong. The score stands thus; Molly: 3 Elan:5
Push-update: Molly: 11 Elan:7
In closing, last night we were kickin it homie style as the only people in a bar smoking hookah and watching the greates cinematic adventure this world has ever seen, Miami Vice.
XOXO,
Gossip B-A-N-A-N-A-S
Monday, March 2, 2009
AAAAYYYYYY!!!!!!
So we don't have much time today, we hoped we were going to be able to post some pictures today, but alas, we couldn't figure out exactly where we saved them on the computer...so maybe tomorrow!
To compensate we would like to fill you in on a few tid-bits from around the world. A dash of background and a sprinkle of updates in our soup of an adventure.
In breaking news, we had our first couple fight....Cause: believe it or not, the BLOG! We know what you must be thinking- how could anything so beautiful ever cause anything but true harmony in the world? However, this BLOG is our blood sweat, and now literal tears. Maybe not literal, but theoretical. Here is how it went.
M: Are you done writing your e-mails?
E: Well I mean not really but we can write our BLOG now anyways.
M: Oh well I don't think we'll have enough time.
E: No, we'll totally have enough time, I'll just sign-off my computer and we can start the BLOG.
M:No, you should finish your e-mails.
E:No, it's really ok.
ETC.
EARTH SHAKING!
So now that you have gotten a glimpse of our anger, we would like to smoothly segue into the theme of this week...RAGE
Inspired by our dearest bloodhound and supposed guest BLOGGER Will Stamell... or more fondly known as the RAGING WILIKISTER. In reminder, that is pronounced WILL-A-KEESTER or KEESTAH depending on mood and preference. Poor Raging Wilikister is trapped everyday with us in Swahili class for four straight hours, which really could evoke rage within even the most tranquil of individuals, so we really do not blame him. After such torment, Wiikister has been known to exit in a blind rage screaming KWA HIVYO, KWAHERI, haphazardly over his shoulder. In english that translates as follows; THEREFORE, GOODBYE! In case you were wondering.
We figure it is only right to describe the other poor individuals who were handed the unfair fate of sharing this trip with us. OOFTAH, or in the words of our wonderful swahili teacher, Anne... A-Waaaaaoooooowwww....
We decided a series of analogies would be the best possible way to do this.
If our group was a family, Beth-Ann would most certainly be the mother. Yesterday alone, she sunscreened our backs 20 seperate times, singlehandedly built a palm frond shelter for shade on the beach, and also managed to capture every moment on camera. We really would be lost without her. BETH-ANN for president. or in her words, World Dictator.
Well... we actually really have to go.. but we'll describe the rest of the fam tomorrow, and hopefully we'll bring some photo evidence of these people!
XOXO,
Gossip Athman
To compensate we would like to fill you in on a few tid-bits from around the world. A dash of background and a sprinkle of updates in our soup of an adventure.
In breaking news, we had our first couple fight....Cause: believe it or not, the BLOG! We know what you must be thinking- how could anything so beautiful ever cause anything but true harmony in the world? However, this BLOG is our blood sweat, and now literal tears. Maybe not literal, but theoretical. Here is how it went.
M: Are you done writing your e-mails?
E: Well I mean not really but we can write our BLOG now anyways.
M: Oh well I don't think we'll have enough time.
E: No, we'll totally have enough time, I'll just sign-off my computer and we can start the BLOG.
M:No, you should finish your e-mails.
E:No, it's really ok.
ETC.
EARTH SHAKING!
So now that you have gotten a glimpse of our anger, we would like to smoothly segue into the theme of this week...RAGE
Inspired by our dearest bloodhound and supposed guest BLOGGER Will Stamell... or more fondly known as the RAGING WILIKISTER. In reminder, that is pronounced WILL-A-KEESTER or KEESTAH depending on mood and preference. Poor Raging Wilikister is trapped everyday with us in Swahili class for four straight hours, which really could evoke rage within even the most tranquil of individuals, so we really do not blame him. After such torment, Wiikister has been known to exit in a blind rage screaming KWA HIVYO, KWAHERI, haphazardly over his shoulder. In english that translates as follows; THEREFORE, GOODBYE! In case you were wondering.
We figure it is only right to describe the other poor individuals who were handed the unfair fate of sharing this trip with us. OOFTAH, or in the words of our wonderful swahili teacher, Anne... A-Waaaaaoooooowwww....
We decided a series of analogies would be the best possible way to do this.
If our group was a family, Beth-Ann would most certainly be the mother. Yesterday alone, she sunscreened our backs 20 seperate times, singlehandedly built a palm frond shelter for shade on the beach, and also managed to capture every moment on camera. We really would be lost without her. BETH-ANN for president. or in her words, World Dictator.
Well... we actually really have to go.. but we'll describe the rest of the fam tomorrow, and hopefully we'll bring some photo evidence of these people!
XOXO,
Gossip Athman
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Are you there BLOG?
It's us, Molly and Elan.
So here we are in Lamu. Let us set the scene. After we left Malindi, we took some sort of combination of car, plane, and boat to get to the island of Lamu. Lamu is a small island off the coast of Kenya, and is probably the coolest place we have ever been. There is only one car on the island- an ambulance- and the only other type of transportation is donkeys. They are everywhere and definitely make the list of things that wake us up in the middle of the night. They sound like an incredibly upset asthmatic crying Rosie O'donell (sorry Rosie, we wish you the best). Last night when we were at a bar, one of the local beach boys explained to us exactly what the noises mean. He explained, and I quote, "The male donkeys, you see, don't leave the house for forty days straight. And when they finally decide to leave, they look for a girl donkey to make the donkey babies." We should have known. However, this noise occurs consistently at intervals of abuot every 20 seconds. However he also told Elan, and this is verbatim mind you, "i'll fly so high 'i'll land on your roof, pluck you out of your bed and drop you in the ocean where you will find your dolphin friend." This, of course, only lends more credibility to his donkey explanation.
Donkeys are also very much like vacuum cleaners. We were sitting in our courtyard yesterday, and two donkeys strolled through and ate every living thing in the whole 20 foot radius. Besides us.
Keeping with the theme of dysfunction, on our only free day we've had in the five days we've been here, surprise of all surprises, Elan got sick. We're not sure if it's physically possible to shit out your vital organs, but if it was, we're pretty sure that was the next step for Elan's ravaged body. While Elan puked up everything she's eaten since Kindergarten, Molly was skinny dipping in the beautiful ocean with Will and Sofi. Very culturally appropriate. Before you feel TOO sorry for Elan, however, remember that her albino flesh was still present and accounted for in the ocean, so she was there in more than just spirit. And Molly, Sofi and Will came home with seaweed trapped in their butt cracks. Or was it Elan's albino flesh? Joke's on them.
Incidentally, the night before this, in the words of our new friend Phil from New Zealand, we had a "massive" night, featuring lots of Tusker, beach boys, who are these slightly ridiculous 18-25 year old men that kick it by the beach all day and offer boat and donkey rides, gin and gingerale, and the DJ's favorite song, "Zombie" by the Cranberries- a real crowd pleaser, which strangely enough, every single person in the club knew every single lyric to. What a throwback. The disco we went to is right on the beach and is called Petley's. We went there with two other wazungu (white folk) we met on the street named Phil and Ben who we fondly refer to as Phen. Both of them donned unruly hair, man skirts, and sparkling blue eyes. It's always really shocking to see other white people here, and sometimes it's hard to know how to react. Most of the time we send Will to chase them down while we awkwardly stand and stare as though they are a rare species of butterfly. After sending out our bloodhound, Will, he arranged a playdate, and the rest is history.
It's very bizarre to get so excited to see tourists, but it has been an extremely interesting and often times trying experience trying to talk to people here especially as a white girl. Much of the coast of Kenya is Muslim, and we have learned very quickly that cultural norms here are very different. Even just wearing a tank top makes you extremely uncomfortable. Often times it is hard to tell exactly someone's intentions when they talk to you. Some people definitely genuinely want to talk and say hello, and ask you questions, however, it hasn't been uncommon for someone to talk to us for the sole purpose of getting something from us. While we realize that this really does demonstrate the real need here, it is frustrating when you're dying to actually have a real conversation and all they want is your watch. We would of course be willing to give things away to special people or friends, but it becomes hard when you feel like you're being used. That is one of the hardest, if not the hardest, thing about being here.
Fortunately, we have been able to actually get to know some really great people and have learned a lot from them. In Lamu every day we roll out of bed every day for our 7 am swahili class, and after the first hour we have breakfast. This is followed by three more hours of swahili, after which we are free until 5 pm. At 5 we hang out with our swahili tutors who are members of the community who talk to us and show us around and take us places. Molly's tutor is probably the town gossip, and basically just talks shit the whole hour and a half which is actaully really perfect for Molly. Elan's tutor works with youth groups that put on plays and do programs about HIV AIDS and other health issues. This resulted in Elan being escorted around by 30 20 year old boys her first tutor session, which was MILDLY OVERWHELMING.
In other news, we are happy to report that the cats here are slightly less mangy, however, speaking of mangy, our new favorite brand of cookie is the "Manji Marie" which proudly states on the packaging, "House of Manji- Expect Excellence."
So far Lamu has been epic. We're here for another two weeks and I'm sure we'll have plenty to add before we leave. So for now,
XOXO,
Gosspi Capes, Chaps, and Donkeys
It's us, Molly and Elan.
So here we are in Lamu. Let us set the scene. After we left Malindi, we took some sort of combination of car, plane, and boat to get to the island of Lamu. Lamu is a small island off the coast of Kenya, and is probably the coolest place we have ever been. There is only one car on the island- an ambulance- and the only other type of transportation is donkeys. They are everywhere and definitely make the list of things that wake us up in the middle of the night. They sound like an incredibly upset asthmatic crying Rosie O'donell (sorry Rosie, we wish you the best). Last night when we were at a bar, one of the local beach boys explained to us exactly what the noises mean. He explained, and I quote, "The male donkeys, you see, don't leave the house for forty days straight. And when they finally decide to leave, they look for a girl donkey to make the donkey babies." We should have known. However, this noise occurs consistently at intervals of abuot every 20 seconds. However he also told Elan, and this is verbatim mind you, "i'll fly so high 'i'll land on your roof, pluck you out of your bed and drop you in the ocean where you will find your dolphin friend." This, of course, only lends more credibility to his donkey explanation.
Donkeys are also very much like vacuum cleaners. We were sitting in our courtyard yesterday, and two donkeys strolled through and ate every living thing in the whole 20 foot radius. Besides us.
Keeping with the theme of dysfunction, on our only free day we've had in the five days we've been here, surprise of all surprises, Elan got sick. We're not sure if it's physically possible to shit out your vital organs, but if it was, we're pretty sure that was the next step for Elan's ravaged body. While Elan puked up everything she's eaten since Kindergarten, Molly was skinny dipping in the beautiful ocean with Will and Sofi. Very culturally appropriate. Before you feel TOO sorry for Elan, however, remember that her albino flesh was still present and accounted for in the ocean, so she was there in more than just spirit. And Molly, Sofi and Will came home with seaweed trapped in their butt cracks. Or was it Elan's albino flesh? Joke's on them.
Incidentally, the night before this, in the words of our new friend Phil from New Zealand, we had a "massive" night, featuring lots of Tusker, beach boys, who are these slightly ridiculous 18-25 year old men that kick it by the beach all day and offer boat and donkey rides, gin and gingerale, and the DJ's favorite song, "Zombie" by the Cranberries- a real crowd pleaser, which strangely enough, every single person in the club knew every single lyric to. What a throwback. The disco we went to is right on the beach and is called Petley's. We went there with two other wazungu (white folk) we met on the street named Phil and Ben who we fondly refer to as Phen. Both of them donned unruly hair, man skirts, and sparkling blue eyes. It's always really shocking to see other white people here, and sometimes it's hard to know how to react. Most of the time we send Will to chase them down while we awkwardly stand and stare as though they are a rare species of butterfly. After sending out our bloodhound, Will, he arranged a playdate, and the rest is history.
It's very bizarre to get so excited to see tourists, but it has been an extremely interesting and often times trying experience trying to talk to people here especially as a white girl. Much of the coast of Kenya is Muslim, and we have learned very quickly that cultural norms here are very different. Even just wearing a tank top makes you extremely uncomfortable. Often times it is hard to tell exactly someone's intentions when they talk to you. Some people definitely genuinely want to talk and say hello, and ask you questions, however, it hasn't been uncommon for someone to talk to us for the sole purpose of getting something from us. While we realize that this really does demonstrate the real need here, it is frustrating when you're dying to actually have a real conversation and all they want is your watch. We would of course be willing to give things away to special people or friends, but it becomes hard when you feel like you're being used. That is one of the hardest, if not the hardest, thing about being here.
Fortunately, we have been able to actually get to know some really great people and have learned a lot from them. In Lamu every day we roll out of bed every day for our 7 am swahili class, and after the first hour we have breakfast. This is followed by three more hours of swahili, after which we are free until 5 pm. At 5 we hang out with our swahili tutors who are members of the community who talk to us and show us around and take us places. Molly's tutor is probably the town gossip, and basically just talks shit the whole hour and a half which is actaully really perfect for Molly. Elan's tutor works with youth groups that put on plays and do programs about HIV AIDS and other health issues. This resulted in Elan being escorted around by 30 20 year old boys her first tutor session, which was MILDLY OVERWHELMING.
In other news, we are happy to report that the cats here are slightly less mangy, however, speaking of mangy, our new favorite brand of cookie is the "Manji Marie" which proudly states on the packaging, "House of Manji- Expect Excellence."
So far Lamu has been epic. We're here for another two weeks and I'm sure we'll have plenty to add before we leave. So for now,
XOXO,
Gosspi Capes, Chaps, and Donkeys
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
BLOGI ya tatu
Hello friends and followers of our BLOG. We haven't had very much free time at all, not to mention electricity, running water, or toilet seats for the past 10 days so needless to say, our BLOG has suffered. Right now we are at a stray internet cafe in Malindi blending in with the mangy cats that roam the streets. We've come up with a list of important topics that we feel you should know about.
1. Things that wake us up in the middle of the night.
2. Traffic.
3. Number of bubbling sunburns.
4. The Taita hills, safari, and Malindi.
5. Time.
In the things that wake us up category we have screaming cats, barfing dogs, yelling mosques, yodelling roosters, and MOSQUITOS. It's been real.
Traffic. LET US. TELL YOU. It's a miracle what with Molly's deafness and Elan's blindness that we have managed to survive crossing the streets thus far. The main forms of transportation here are Matatus and Tuktuks. Matatus are basically rusting vans crammed full of people with a man hanging out the door yelling at you to GET IN THE CAR in swahili. They drive approximately 100000 miles per hour and often feature pictures of david beckham and random english sayings such as, "Let it rain", or "Three words". Tuktuks are slightly more user friendly and they are our personal favorite. They kind of look like pedicabs but they're motorized and glorious. Most of the time on the highway we have resorted to covering our eyes and praying, especially when the driver decides it's a good idea to pass a semi truck going around a blind corner on the edge of a cliff.
Enough about traffic. We are currently keeping a running tally of the number of bubbling sunburns we (specifically Elan) have received. The score stands: Molly 1, Elan 5. It also is worthy to note that there are now literally sheets of Elan's albino flesh floating in the Indian Ocean. But that is neither here nor there.
Time. How do you even say this? Time is meaningless here. Everyone is always at least a half hour if not a full hour late, and it's perfectly culturally acceptable to set up a meeting with someone and never show up. Ever. For creatures of habit like ourselves, this doesn't really always work out, but we are trying to adapt.
So, for the past two weeks we have been in Taita, Tsavo, and now, Malindi. Taita was our rural homestay, and it was interesting to say the least. Molly had three siblings: Stanley age 23, Lydia 17, and Willikister 15. For the record, that's pronounced Will- a- keester. Elan had three siblings as well: Mavu 19, notorious womanizer, Hendry 17, also notorious womanizer, and Imelda 12. Every morning we would have breakfast with our families featuring staring contests with Stanley, butter sandwiches, and the best goddamn chai this side of the mississippi. Then we would work with the townfolk building a community library. We were valuable assets to the team when they would actually let us hold a tool for more than thirty seconds. The women of the community really put us to shame when they would work for four hours with infants on their backs. After manual labor, we went to Swahili class and lunch at the Palace until about 5, when we would maybe play a little soccer and then head home for the night. The evenings featured Willikister performing hours upon hours of solo dancing and singing, awkward tv shows such as the Bold and the Beautiful, and dinner. Eating is a whole different type of sport in Taita. You eat until you feel immense amounts of pain, and then you eat some more. Elan's family attempted to bond by putting on every American dvd they owned which consisted of: "Extravagant Grace: Women of Faith", Van Damme movies, and the Teletubbies episode in which the teletubbies eat tubby custard and lala does her secret dance... five times. Needless to say, after watching that episode of Teletubbies at least three times, Elan wants the Teletubbies to feel more pain than Van Damme's victims. One of our favorite quotes of the trip thus far was when Molly was in another room and a little neighbor girl asked her family in English and I quote: "Where the white girl at?" After being told that she was sleeping, the girl responded, "THEY SLEEP?" But as the gas station attendant said, "all you white people look the same." Cultural exchange complete. The people in Taita were really great, our families were amazing and the village was incredible and one of the most beautiful places we have ever seen. We left on Sunday, and true to form, our advisor was four hours late to pick us up because they "had cooking to do."
After Taita, we drove to Tsavo, a national park the size of Israel. Our driver stayed at a steady speed of about 90 miles an hour the whole way there on dirt roads while talking on his radio. We went on safari for two days and saw elephants, water buffalo, lions, giraffes, a cheetah, ostriches, dickdicks, elands, antelopes, zebras and many birds and baboons. The one night we stayed there, was potentially one of the more eventful nights of our lives. It started with an episode straight out of the Discovery Channel. When we got there there was a dying water buffalo that had been attacked by lions the night before stuck in a watering hole. That night, about ten lions came to the watering hole to finish the deed. However, they were suprised, as were we, when the water buffalo fought back, bum leg and all. While this was going down, all of a sudden out of nowhere, a Lion King style stampede of about 200 water buffalo came to rescue their comrade. Surprise number two occurred when they decided to cut the mission short, drink some water, bellow some bellows, and peace. The highlight of the trip was later that night drinking gin and tonics and Tusker in the pool while watching the greatest lion on lion showdown we have personally ever witnessed. Tsavo was great. Amen.
En route to Malindi, we got a flat tire and decided to do some group push ups on the highway. Our goal is 20 real push ups by the end of the trip. The score stands thus: Molly 7, Elan 4. Malindi is a touristy town right on teh coast of Kenya. It has a large Italian population, and there is actually a Little Italy (bizarre, yes?) where all the vendors yell at us in Italian. In Malindi, we visited the Gede ruins of a Swahili town, and went snorkelling yesterday where Elan desposited her flesh sheets by accident. Elan also received her fifth bubbling sunburn yesterday. She actually DID apply sunscreeen, believe it or not. Albino no mo. Red fo sho. We had another drop off today, however it was entirely...something.
We are never going to take this long to update our BLOG ever again because this was painfully long.
XOXO,
Gossip mangy cat
1. Things that wake us up in the middle of the night.
2. Traffic.
3. Number of bubbling sunburns.
4. The Taita hills, safari, and Malindi.
5. Time.
In the things that wake us up category we have screaming cats, barfing dogs, yelling mosques, yodelling roosters, and MOSQUITOS. It's been real.
Traffic. LET US. TELL YOU. It's a miracle what with Molly's deafness and Elan's blindness that we have managed to survive crossing the streets thus far. The main forms of transportation here are Matatus and Tuktuks. Matatus are basically rusting vans crammed full of people with a man hanging out the door yelling at you to GET IN THE CAR in swahili. They drive approximately 100000 miles per hour and often feature pictures of david beckham and random english sayings such as, "Let it rain", or "Three words". Tuktuks are slightly more user friendly and they are our personal favorite. They kind of look like pedicabs but they're motorized and glorious. Most of the time on the highway we have resorted to covering our eyes and praying, especially when the driver decides it's a good idea to pass a semi truck going around a blind corner on the edge of a cliff.
Enough about traffic. We are currently keeping a running tally of the number of bubbling sunburns we (specifically Elan) have received. The score stands: Molly 1, Elan 5. It also is worthy to note that there are now literally sheets of Elan's albino flesh floating in the Indian Ocean. But that is neither here nor there.
Time. How do you even say this? Time is meaningless here. Everyone is always at least a half hour if not a full hour late, and it's perfectly culturally acceptable to set up a meeting with someone and never show up. Ever. For creatures of habit like ourselves, this doesn't really always work out, but we are trying to adapt.
So, for the past two weeks we have been in Taita, Tsavo, and now, Malindi. Taita was our rural homestay, and it was interesting to say the least. Molly had three siblings: Stanley age 23, Lydia 17, and Willikister 15. For the record, that's pronounced Will- a- keester. Elan had three siblings as well: Mavu 19, notorious womanizer, Hendry 17, also notorious womanizer, and Imelda 12. Every morning we would have breakfast with our families featuring staring contests with Stanley, butter sandwiches, and the best goddamn chai this side of the mississippi. Then we would work with the townfolk building a community library. We were valuable assets to the team when they would actually let us hold a tool for more than thirty seconds. The women of the community really put us to shame when they would work for four hours with infants on their backs. After manual labor, we went to Swahili class and lunch at the Palace until about 5, when we would maybe play a little soccer and then head home for the night. The evenings featured Willikister performing hours upon hours of solo dancing and singing, awkward tv shows such as the Bold and the Beautiful, and dinner. Eating is a whole different type of sport in Taita. You eat until you feel immense amounts of pain, and then you eat some more. Elan's family attempted to bond by putting on every American dvd they owned which consisted of: "Extravagant Grace: Women of Faith", Van Damme movies, and the Teletubbies episode in which the teletubbies eat tubby custard and lala does her secret dance... five times. Needless to say, after watching that episode of Teletubbies at least three times, Elan wants the Teletubbies to feel more pain than Van Damme's victims. One of our favorite quotes of the trip thus far was when Molly was in another room and a little neighbor girl asked her family in English and I quote: "Where the white girl at?" After being told that she was sleeping, the girl responded, "THEY SLEEP?" But as the gas station attendant said, "all you white people look the same." Cultural exchange complete. The people in Taita were really great, our families were amazing and the village was incredible and one of the most beautiful places we have ever seen. We left on Sunday, and true to form, our advisor was four hours late to pick us up because they "had cooking to do."
After Taita, we drove to Tsavo, a national park the size of Israel. Our driver stayed at a steady speed of about 90 miles an hour the whole way there on dirt roads while talking on his radio. We went on safari for two days and saw elephants, water buffalo, lions, giraffes, a cheetah, ostriches, dickdicks, elands, antelopes, zebras and many birds and baboons. The one night we stayed there, was potentially one of the more eventful nights of our lives. It started with an episode straight out of the Discovery Channel. When we got there there was a dying water buffalo that had been attacked by lions the night before stuck in a watering hole. That night, about ten lions came to the watering hole to finish the deed. However, they were suprised, as were we, when the water buffalo fought back, bum leg and all. While this was going down, all of a sudden out of nowhere, a Lion King style stampede of about 200 water buffalo came to rescue their comrade. Surprise number two occurred when they decided to cut the mission short, drink some water, bellow some bellows, and peace. The highlight of the trip was later that night drinking gin and tonics and Tusker in the pool while watching the greatest lion on lion showdown we have personally ever witnessed. Tsavo was great. Amen.
En route to Malindi, we got a flat tire and decided to do some group push ups on the highway. Our goal is 20 real push ups by the end of the trip. The score stands thus: Molly 7, Elan 4. Malindi is a touristy town right on teh coast of Kenya. It has a large Italian population, and there is actually a Little Italy (bizarre, yes?) where all the vendors yell at us in Italian. In Malindi, we visited the Gede ruins of a Swahili town, and went snorkelling yesterday where Elan desposited her flesh sheets by accident. Elan also received her fifth bubbling sunburn yesterday. She actually DID apply sunscreeen, believe it or not. Albino no mo. Red fo sho. We had another drop off today, however it was entirely...something.
We are never going to take this long to update our BLOG ever again because this was painfully long.
XOXO,
Gossip mangy cat
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Soooo......We are sorry SANA about being terrible BLOGGERS!
So we are alive in Africa by some miracle and we're having the most incredible time. Elan got to Mombasa on Saturday the 31st and Molly got to Mombasa on the first. We stayed at this awesome guest house that was right on the beach. Every morning we'd wake up at like 5:30 to go swimming in the ocean. Our guest house was right next to this mens workout place so we always ended up chatting it up with some rando Mombasa men. One man actually told one of the girls in the group that he had never seen "a more naked white woman" which is pretty sweet! While we were in Mombasa every morning we would have class in the morning and then do some sort of activity during the afternoon. One afternoon, we did this activity called the "drop off". Basically we are told specific places to go, and had to figure out some way to get there. Elan went to a childrens village called S.O.S. and Molly went to a school for children with cerebral paulsy. We also went out one night to a club in Mombasa called the Rio, it was hyphy, there were hella disco balls and a crackin dance floor, and we went with our beautiful man friend/S.I.T. employee George. But, right now we have to meet up with the group for dinner, so we'll try updating the BLOG again tomorrow about our tom foolery in Malindi, our safari in Tsavo, and our homestay in the Taita Hills.....
XOXO,
Gossip Sheep
So we are alive in Africa by some miracle and we're having the most incredible time. Elan got to Mombasa on Saturday the 31st and Molly got to Mombasa on the first. We stayed at this awesome guest house that was right on the beach. Every morning we'd wake up at like 5:30 to go swimming in the ocean. Our guest house was right next to this mens workout place so we always ended up chatting it up with some rando Mombasa men. One man actually told one of the girls in the group that he had never seen "a more naked white woman" which is pretty sweet! While we were in Mombasa every morning we would have class in the morning and then do some sort of activity during the afternoon. One afternoon, we did this activity called the "drop off". Basically we are told specific places to go, and had to figure out some way to get there. Elan went to a childrens village called S.O.S. and Molly went to a school for children with cerebral paulsy. We also went out one night to a club in Mombasa called the Rio, it was hyphy, there were hella disco balls and a crackin dance floor, and we went with our beautiful man friend/S.I.T. employee George. But, right now we have to meet up with the group for dinner, so we'll try updating the BLOG again tomorrow about our tom foolery in Malindi, our safari in Tsavo, and our homestay in the Taita Hills.....
XOXO,
Gossip Sheep
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
BLOG?
So here we are BLOGGING. In honor of our imminent journey to Mombasa, we have decided that it's only appropriate that we start a so called BLOG to document our adventures and or misadventures in Kenya. Our program starts on February 1st and goes until May 16th, but as of now we are planning on staying for awhile afterwards to travel. Elan is leaving this Thursday the 29th, and Molly leaves on this Saturday the 31st. The past few weeks we've mostly spent gathering all the necessary items for our trip such as ankle lengths skirts and all the other flattering apparel we need. So here's to getting there! Also, here is our address in Kenya, please send us mail! We'll try to keep you well updated as our adventure unfolds.
Our names
c/o SIT-Kenya
Swahili Studies and Coastal Cultures
P.O. Box 41656
Mombasa, Kenya 800100
If you want, give us your address and we'll send you a postcard! We will miss you all, keep it fresh in your respective locations until we return.
WE'RE REALLY EXCITED!!
Our names
c/o SIT-Kenya
Swahili Studies and Coastal Cultures
P.O. Box 41656
Mombasa, Kenya 800100
If you want, give us your address and we'll send you a postcard! We will miss you all, keep it fresh in your respective locations until we return.
WE'RE REALLY EXCITED!!
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