Nairobi

It's been a while, but it's been a tame few weeks compared to the rest of the semester. I've been living in a homestay in Nairobi (the capital city) for three weeks now. The family I'm with is more American than I am: they own three SUVs and watch WWE and The Real Housewives of Atlanta. It's been very comfortable, and I don't have a lot to say besides a few observations:

• Nairobi is too small. I've been stopped three times now for 45 minutes because of the president's motorcade. He drives through the busiest streets at rush hour with a motorcade that is almost a mile long. It is so long because he is trying to outdo the prime minister, so every time the PM adds a car to his own motorcade, the president adds one to his. I told my host mom he should get a helicopter and she said her friend was put in jail for saying that.
• Nairobi is too small. Today I was having drinks with a friend of the family and his friend. A random man came up to the friend and greeted him warmly in Swahili and left. It turns out the friend plays one of the main characters on Tahiti High, one of the most popular shows in East Africa.
• Camels don't speak English. I was in a park in Nairobi a while ago and there was a man offering camel rides for about $3. I jumped at the opportunity. He told me that the camel speaks English, so just say stop, left, and right and you should be okay. He sent me on my way. The camel spoke no english and walked one speed down the central pathway in a very crowded park. For some reason there was barbed wire on both sides of the path in a public park. Everyone had to scatter to get out of my way and avoid cutting themselves on the barbed wire. I almost knocked over an ice cream cart, and all the local people were giving me dirty looks.
• Some Kenyan people are really nice and they want your money. I've had several long conversations with random people on the street who I thought were genuinely interested in talking to me. At the end of the conversation they invariably produce a petition asking for money for some diseased person who almost definitely doesn't exist.
• Ostrich bites hurt. I went to the animal orphanage and one of the trainers asked if I wanted to feed the ostrich because I'm a Whitey. The ostrich basically attacked my peanut filled hands giving me a moderately sized bruise. I don't hold it against him/ her because he/she doesn't have any parents.
• Slums. We went to Kibera a couple weeks ago, the largest slum in East Africa. It was staggering-- there's no comparison anywhere in America. The population density is slightly less than New York City with no multi story buildings. The smell is powerful, as is the sight from the top of a centrally located hill: an uncountable number of rusted corrugated metal sheets make up the roofs of an uncountable number of shacks. The northern border of the slum is a large luxury golf course.
• I want to stay here for a long time. I've just decided to go backpacking at the end of the semester through Tanzania, Malawi, Zambia, Zimbabwe, South Africa, Swaziland, and Mozambique. I'm hoping to get an internship for the rest of the summer.
• Taco Bell isn't really Taco Bell. There's one in Nairobi, but it's a product of lax copyright laws.

That's all I have for now. Tomorrow we go to Amboseli National Park to see a bunch of animals and live with Maasai tribesman. After that we'll be in Mombasa for a week for our "spring break."

Aaron

Hunting and Gathering

After a lot of serious self-reflection, I decided I'm not ready to drop everything and go live as a hunter gatherer, but only because I'm bad at a lot of the necessary survival skills. We just got back from living with the Hadza, a group of hunter gatherers in Tanzania. My image of hunter gatherers was a bunch of people collecting berries from sunrise to sundown. Wrong. The women are able to gather enough roots to provide a days worth of nutrients for themselves and the men in only a few hours of foraging.

Men, on the other hand, "hunt" all day long. We went on a "hunt" with them, but I suspect it was really a honey gathering mission, because honey is what makes the world go round for the Hadza. They kept telling us we were hunting giraffe and there was one just over this ridge, but all we ever did was collect honey.

Before going we had read that the honey from the valley where the Hadza stay is highly valuable, but no other group has tried to harvest it. I wondered why, but then I saw the collection of the honey and I understood. This is the process:

• beehives are located within trees
• When the Hadza spot the telltale signs of a beehive (not sure what these are, I assume they're bees and maybe a buzzing sound) they build a fire
• They climb the tree
• They use an axe to hack a hole in the tree about a foot below the beehive
• They put a smoking log from the fire into the hole
• The smoke rises, slightly disorienting the bees but mostly just pissing them off and getting them to buzz around
• When most of the bees have left the hive, the Hadza man simply reaches up into the hole and grabs huge pieces of honeycomb. Needless to say, they suffer numerous bee stings, they just don't give a shit

The honey is by far the best I've ever tasted, but they eat so much. On our hunt we found four different beehives and collected honey from all of them. At the last one, one of the men came up to me and told me that the bees were very dangerous and pointed to his eyes. I found out later that those bees are the type that specifically try to sting you in your eyes. (notice the frightened look on my face in the picture above.) I probably ate the equivalent of two of those bear-shaped bottles of honey. On the hunt I went on we ate all the honey we collected (they told me they consume over 20 pounds of honey a week), but the Hadza usually trade it to neighboring tribes for four-inch long nails that they pound into arrowheads and marijuana that they smoke. And a lot.

They probably hunt in earnest when they don't have four loud tourists tromping around behind them. In fact, a Hadza man's only possessions are the clothes on his back, an axe (for collecting honey), and handmade bows and arrows. They put a strong natural poison on the arrow just below the arrow head. They hunt every animal except elephants because their poison isn't strong enough to kill elephants. I met an old man who told me he'd killed over 20 giraffes in his life.

We're taught from a very young age that the history of life on earth is: 

1. big bang
2. lava
3. bacteria
4. fish
5. lizards
6. mammals
7. chimpanzees
8. hunter gatherers
9. farmers
10. modern man

What I learned from this week is that that's false. We're not the next step in the evolutionary process-- we represent a radical break from the hunter gatherers. The simple difference between our societies is that they don't believe in the concept of personal wealth. Because they don't believe in wealth they have an egalitarian society; the men don't control the wealth, so they don't subjugate the women. We split up into four groups and hunted and the only thing anyone caught all day was a hyrax, a guinea pig like creature, but they shared it equally between everyone-- it didn't matter who caught it. When they make decisions, everyone in the group gets a say, and they usually come to a consensus.

They don't lead hard lives-- if they do any hard manual labor, it's only for a couple hours a day. The rest of the time is spent hunting/collecting honey, or singing and dancing. They were also very easy to interact with on a personal level even though most of us know very little Swahili. Every single other group of people in Tanzania has had serious drought and starvation in the last 50 years except the Hadza.

The first night I was there we were talking to the Hadza around a fire. One of the men, Moshi, told us there were no kids in the camp because they had all gone out to collect fruit three days ago. I was a little alarmed by that and I asked when they would be back. He said he didn't know, but that it had been raining for the last three days, and where they went there is no shelter from the rain, so he thought they would probably return soon. Now I was a little horrified and I asked if they had asked permission to go. He started laughing hysterically and said, "why would they ask for permission? There is nothing wrong with collecting fruit!" Kids acquire all the necessary survival skills by the time they're seven or eight years old, and it's not uncommon for them to go out by themselves.

The Hadza are only located about 30 miles south of the Laetoli footprints, the oldest archaeological evidence of homo sapiens. There is evidence that their valley has been inhabited constantly for over 100,000 years, and the land looks pretty much the same as it did 100,000 years ago. Just something to think about in the context of global warming.

In other news, the little kids there were just like the kids Meru in that they cried every time I came close to them. I also didn't shower all week.

Aaron

Hell's Gate

Just got back from Hell's Gate National Park, the place where the Lion King and one of the Tombraider movies were filmed. We got there at 7:00 am and stayed until 6:00 pm. There are no fences in the park and we saw zebras, giraffes, Antelopes, Warthogs, Buffalos, Elands, and a bunch of birds. There are leopards, cheetahs, and hyenas in the park but we didn't see any. Also saw the gorge where Mufasa died. It was pretty treacherous in all fairness.
The absence of fences and the presence of deadly animals made me think a lot about self defense, and how I would fight the different animals. This is the Aaron Lesser guide to survival in the African wilderness based entirely on thoughts I had while deliriously wandering around in the sun today.
For the sake of argument, I'm going to assume you have access to a slightly sharp and sturdy stick and a large rock.
Leopards, cheetahs, and other big cats: Stare into the cats eyes. Do not break eye contact. If you have yarn or anything like that, use it. Wait for the cat to charge (it will) and hold your sharpened stick at a 45 degree angle to the ground. The rest should take care of itself.
Warthogs: Make sure you stay on your feet. Short, quick kicks to the head should make the warthog lose its appetite for mischief pretty quickly.
Hyenas: Despite their reputation, these are really dangerous. Be sombre and firm with hyenas.
Buffalo: I have no idea what I would do if a buffalo charged me.
Giraffe: It's all about the legs, hit the knees with your stick. Make sure you don't stand about 10 feet from the giraffe because then you're in the wheelhouse of its deadly swinging neck bashes.
Zebra: Your best bet is to execute a leaping mount. You'll know the zebra that was meant for you because it will try to kill you.
Antelope: Duck and cover, they just jump over you.

Sorry if this seems scattered, I'm writing this while watching the super bowl and I've been awake and in the sun for a lot of hours. I'm watching the game at the U.S. embassy. There's a law that all bars in Kenya must close at 11:00 pm, but because this bar is technically U.S. territory, no rules.
We're watching the game on AFN, (Armed Forces Network) a network that caters specifically to American soldiers abroad. None of the regularly scheduled commercials are on. Instead there's just Colin Powell and someone named Robert M. Gates looking right into my eyes thanking me for my sacrifice to the country and telling me that I'm enabling everyone to watch back home. I'm starting to feel guilty because this praise is obviously not meant for me. Besides that there are a few racist commercials about a Chinese sensei teaching a soldier about benefits he can get when he returns from duty as well as a two second commercial promoting House.
On a side note, I really liked all the patriotism before the game. I have a few suggestions for next year:

• Have celebrities read every word of the constitution and all the amendments, preferably one word at a time.
• Instead of yellow flags have the officials throw American flags when someone commits a penalty.
• Have a Toby Keith be the honorary quarterback for a play.
• Burn an effigy of King George III.

This happened: my political science professor introduced himself and said he had three official kids, paused, and then did not elaborate.
Until next time.

Aaron

Dreams...

I'm going to live on the farm for a week tomorrow so I'll be outside of communication, but I'm taking Lariam (a malaria medication) which produces crazy dreams and psychosis in some instances. Here's the dream I had a couple nights ago:

I'm looking out my window and I see a jet black llama. It looks right at me. Then there are a herd of black llamas. They run over a hill. Suddenly someone yells, "Look! A unicorn!" One of the llamas has transformed into a unicorn. It's black with a gold horn. Suddenly, a beam of light falls from the sky and lands on Chris (a kid on the trip) Now he's wearing a white and gold robe like the pope. I have two thought simultaneously:
1. Chris is superman
2. King Arthur - Harry Potter - Chris
Now I'm driving somewhere with Chris. We get to Wendy's and get out of the car but I point out that we're in a handicapped zone. Instead of getting back into the car he reaches under it and drags it into a regular space. I realize that the Bears-Seahawks game is about to start and I ask if Chris will take me there. He carries me like a newlywed and flies away from Wendy's. We start to sink and he explains he's now losing his power. He puts me on the ground and I'm immediately captured by a skinnier version of Gary Coleman. He takes me to see Sinnary (the director of the Kenya program) but he's evil, and he is about to kill me. I wake up.

What does it all mean?

Ripped off abroad

My interaction with a street merchant:
Merchant: Those are nice glasses. How much did you pay for them?
Me: $3
Merchant: Can I wear them?
[I give him the glasses]
Merchant: That's a nice hat. How much was it?
Me: I don't remember. Cheap. I got it in China.
Merchant: Can I wear it?
[the merchant is now wearing my sunglasses and my hat]
Merchant: I'll trade you anything I own for these things
Me: No. I need those things back or I'll get a sunburn.
Merchant: Where are you from?
Me: Chicago
Merchant: I'll be back. Have you ever met him?
Me: Schwarzenegger? Nope.
Merchant: (obviously dissapointed) Oh. Ok. Well look at this box. Do you like it?
Me: It's a nice box.
Merchant: Ok. I will write down how much I want for it. Then you write down how much you will pay. Then I come down like a Masaai from a tree and you come up like a lion from the bushes.
Me: I don't have any money.
Merchant: It's ok. Just for practice. My first price is 18,000 shillings (US $2,500)
Me: I don't know where to start.
Merchant: You have to be a hard bargainer. Start low.
Me: 1 shilling.
Merchant: You are a funny man. Because you look honest I'll give you a better price. 12,000 shillings (US $1650)
Me: 500 shillings
Merchant: American dollars? 500 American dollars?
Me: No.
Merchant: Ok, you are getting better. I will now reduce my price to 5,000 shillings.
Me: 1,000 shillings
Merchant: You are crazy. I will give you my final offer. 2,000 shillings. I can't go any lower.
Me: 1,700 shillings.
Merchant: Ok. Now what if you give me that hat as well, what will you pay then?
Me: I need that hat or else I'll get a sunburn.
Merchant: But supposing you did...
Me: 1,000 shilllings.
Merchant: Sold. 1,000 shillings and the hat.
[He starts wrapping the box up.]
Me: I thought this was just for practice. I seriously don't have any money. I have 100 shillings and I need it to take the bus home. Can I have my sunglasses and hat back. I don't want to get a sunburn.
[I meet up with the rest of the group. I find out that another merchant offered a girl the same box for 700 shillings as his starting price and gave her a free gift.]

Hello

We flew into Nairobi yesterday morning. The sun was rising just as we were landing and I could only see completely undeveloped land basically until we landed. The minute we left the airport we saw a giraffe and a family of baboons on the side of the road.
So ended the most disoriented period of my life. I left Chicago at 2:30 pm central time and got into new york at 5:30 pm eastern time. I met up with other people from the group and we boarded the flight for London at 10:00 pm eastern time. We arrived in London at 10:30 am London time. I watched a Bollywood movie called Dabaang. It's about a corrupt cop who is also a great dancer whose weapon of choice is a firehose. Because we had a nine hour layover I went into the city with a few people from the program. We had a couple pints which further disoriented me. I fell asleep on the ground in Heathrow, and we finally boarded the plane at 7:00 pm London time. We arrived in Kenya at 6:45 am Nairobi time. I think we were travelling for about 30 hours of real time and 40 hours of time-zone adjusted time.
My mom packed me a lunch, but I never ate it because I was never really sure when lunch was. I accidentally smuggled it into Kenya because customs was so lax I didn't realize I went through it. We were driven to our compound which is in Karen, a suburb of Nairobi. Our first rural homestay starts in less than a week. I will be staying with Peter and Helen of the Meru tribe of Mount Kenya. Peter is a farmer and Helen is a nurse. They have one son who is 22 years old and two daughters who work and live in Nairobi.
Going into the city a little later today. I'll put some pictures up soon.

Goodbye

I really wanted my first post to be about hunting lions, drinking cow’s blood, or eating giraffe meat, and I hate writing about anything sentimental, but this feels like the right place to start. I hope this post doesn’t read like the moral at the end of a shitty sitcom. If you have an image of me as a tough guy or an easygoing person, please stop reading now. Or maybe keep going.

            Last night my dad told me he was going to bed, and he would be gone before I left in the morning. I gave him a hug and he wished me luck and told me not to take any unnecessary risks. I just mumbled something about how fast this whole thing has come and he went upstairs. Before that I hadn’t thought about it. I’m going to Kenya. I’m going to Kenya. I went upstairs and laid face down in my bed. My head was spinning. I wasn’t nervous before because I hadn’t been living it. It’s easy to think about going to Kenya. It’s easy to think about not seeing your parents for 4 months or not seeing your friends for 6 or 7 months. It’s easy to think about living in a village in Africa or going to a place where I will stick out, but I’m getting on a plane to go live that. I won’t see my family again for 4 months.

            I’m not getting cold feet; I want to do this and I’m excited, but for lack of a better way of saying it, I’m scared as shit. Hopefully as the program gets into swing I can shift my perspective towards what I’m gaining by going to Kenya, but right now I’m only thinking of what I’m leaving behind. Yesterday, via facebook, I asked everyone to tell me what they wanted as a souvenir. I got a bunch of answers and most of them were jokes, but I’m going to miss that, and you guys, a lot.

            In all seriousness, it’s hard to think about what your family or friends mean to you. I’ve never done it until now, when thinking about it has kind of been forced upon me.  Sorry if you’ve waded through my sentimental bullshit and actually read all the way to here, and I feel a lot better after writing this. Hopefully the next post will be about catching poachers or learning how to use a blow gun.

Love you mom,

Aaron