So yes, I am back in the country and have been for three weeks, but I mainly write these blogs as a journal or record for myself to have, so I am going to attempt to finish it anyways. Plus I had enough people ask me if I had recovered from my altitude sickness (the concern is appreciated, but yes I am fine, unless your lungs collapse you are automatically cured once you are in lower altitude). I was also asked by people if I ever saw my brother, so I figured I should clarify that as well...I did, and will hopefully manage to blog all of my adventures as a wanna-be Augustana College student as well.

So after returning from Masai Mara I had two days left in Kenya to actually see Nairobi. There were options to pet a cheetah, and watch baby elephants be fed, go to museums, etc, but Neha and I skipped all these options agreed on some odd choices for my final days. The first day we went to the market to power shop for all my souvenirs from Africa at once, since everywhere else we went Neha informed me was a rip off. We shopped and bargained for probably way longer than Neha would have liked, (she did all the bargaining). When we finally walked out she seemed very frustrated and annoyed, so I apologized for shopping for so much and for taking so long, etc etc. And she was like what are you apologizing for? And I said, well you seemed kind of annoyed/angry. And she laughed and explained that's just part of her "persona" when bargaining, you have to seem angry and fed up to get the proper prices. Kyle would have failed miserably at this strategy, in Ghana he was taking numbers and making friends with everyone in the markets, though he managed good bargains too, so the technique likely varies by country.

We stopped for lunch at the Superdawg of Nairobi, you pull up your car and order (though no electronic system here, just a guy), and then they bring the food out to your car. It was kind of their version of fast food, and the chicken shwarma was great. She also had me try sugar cane juice, which oddly tasted like a lemon shake-up. I failed miserable at attempting to eat sugar cane though; the vendor told me I need stronger teeth.

Later that afternoon we went to volunteer at an orphanage for children with HIV. Neha volunteers there regularly just helping out and playing with the kids. The center acts as a typically orphanage and is pretty well funded and run because it is located in a nicer neighborhood. They also do medical work that they claim helps to reverse HIV in infants. For those born with HIV, apparently it can be reversible given the proper care and medications...according to this center. Either way, it was nice to see such a well run non-profit, (because there are so many that aren't, especially in Africa), and you can't go wrong playing with and feeding babies all afternoon.

That night I had some more magnificent Indian food, that I have since found to be irreplaceable in America...I texted Neha so much about the chicken tikka, tamarind sauce and marsala chips, she offered to freeze some sauce and send it with her brother. To the States I would die for some of her Dad's chicken curry too, or her grandma's passion fruit tree tomato juice.....

On my final day we went to see the largest slums in the world, Kibera with Neha's driver. He lives there so he has taken some other friends of Neha's to see it and does not mind at all. And there is really no safe way to see it without a local resident. We had to pay friends of his to watch our car once we parked it, to make sure it, and none of its parts were stolen. He basically just walked us around as I tried to ask him a million questions, despite his very limited knowledge of English. He took us to the one main "attraction" they are proud of and take all the "tourists" to see, the railroad line. The railroad actually runs through the slums, and they are all very proud of it, because it is a means of business for them and they sell stuff to people on board etc.

In my discussion with her driver, I was not able to take away much. I did learn that you don't really inherit or rent a "place" you just kind of pick a vacant one and it's yours. But you do pay for electricity and water (water that looked like it should have negative value, not a price), and the prices actually seemed kind of ridiculous, all things considered. Private companies provide the utilities, though there are some public toilet areas (with a charge) provided by the government…we think.He also told me how he had two wives, and told me that was common around there.But then he went on to explain that his wife ran off when his kids were babies so then he took a 2nd wife.(So we concluded most people don't really have two wives at once, I should reemphasize at this point, his English was very rough…) But his first wife is now back looking for money now that the kids are old enough to work.He said he always knew she would come back.

I also learned from Neha that it is very important to treat your workers well.There is a semi checks and balances system for worker treatment.If you don't treat them well, pay them well, etc, they will raid your house and potentially kill you.They have the inside knowledge, sometimes keys, and friends, so a lot of the theft happens this way, not from outsiders breaking in.Neha said they treat theirs very well because they pay for their children's educations, pay them well, are nice to them etc.But either way her Grandma is still paranoid and locks everything (even Neha's clothes), and then hides the keys she locked stuff with.It is like a 24/7 hide and go seek game for Neha. Everyday when she comes home she has to try and find where her grandma hid the keys that day to be able to get into her closet.

Although it is the largest slum area in the world, it was seemingly not as bad as I would have expected (though everyone does say India's slums are poorer).A big part of this impression was because of how well Kenyans dress, all Kenyans.I had gotten used to it being there for a while, so it didn't really phase me to see people in the slums (who likely lived there), in dress shirts, dress shoes, nice slacks etc.Even when I saw clothing being sold on a hillside (like laid out on the ground), outside of the slums, it was dress clothing.A lot of the people who live in the slums, as in exemplified in her driver, have jobs, Kibera is just the only place they can afford to live.There were some housing projects being built, and it sounded like there was kind of a lottery system to be able to live in them (okay that is probably way too technical, they probably come into the slums and point to people and pick them).But either way there does seem to be some attempt to get people out of the slums.I was so curious and intrigued I could have stayed forver, but Neha was dying in the "heat", (I dare her to survive 5 days in Ghana) and made the correct point that every, street/alley/walkway looks the same.So we left to go home to eat some traditional Kenyan food (although I really considered Indian food Kenyan food too…it all combined basically).We had ugali with greens, and like everything else it was amazing.

We spent the rest of the afternoon in the exact opposite neighborhood of the slums, we went to the Karen area.It is the rich white area that is named after Karen Blixen, the author of Out of Africa.We went and saw Karen's house/museum, Neha's old school, and stopped at a shopping center…nothing too exciting to report.

We went out for my last night there, and drank far too much, a typical Kenyan evening I had learned by this point."Shotttts" is not just a Neha term, it is used frequently amongst her friends.So waking up at 5am with only a few hours of sleep to catch my plane to Accra was less than enjoyable. And then finding out that my plane was delayed 2, then 4, then 5 hours, added to the fun.Sobering up and then becoming hungover while attempting to sleep in a plastic chair, while guarding my belongings, in an airport with only one "restaurant," that was more like a rough Africa version of Duncan Doughnuts, was not my idea of a perfect way to say good bye to Kenya, but I survived.