Worth it.

All week, something has been stirring in the air. It's almost like how one can feel rain in the air, but instead of rain I felt a sense of uneasiness. Like something bad was going to happen.

Saturday night, I was coming home from Shiners with Mary, Winnie's high school where I was saying my goodbyes, and because it was getting late I told Mary I'd start dinner while she went home to shower.

--SIDE NOTE: Earlier that day, George and Phyllis wanted me to come eat chicken with them and drink. Honestly, I didn't want to even look at alcohol and also because I was giving blood the next morning, I didn't think it was the best idea. So I told them that I was giving blood and didn't want to go out, which they protested but I figured if I came home late enough they'd have already left--

So it turns out that yes, they did leave before I got home. What I did not realize was that they were just going to the pub in the shopping center which I pass as I walk home. As I'm about to get to the gate, thinking that I'd done a good job of avoiding unwanted company, and I hear someone yell my name. My heart drops.. I know that voice. I turn around and see Phyllis, George, and two of her "male friends" I had met earlier that day. Phyllis was swaying and slurring her words. And George had that glazed over look in his eye - george was gone and some out of control boundary crosser had replaced him.

He called over to me "Nancy! come have a drink with us!"
"No I don't think I can tonight sorry", I say.
"But baby, baby, I'm gonna miss you", he slurs. Now I get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.
"george, i'm going to go home. Mary and I are cooking dinner and if I don't leave now she's going to be stuck waiting at the gate". I start walking away.
He grabs my wrist hard and starts tugging at me. Not hard at first, saying "But I'm never going to see you again"
"george, you're hurting my wrist please stop" I say, now using all my strength to pry his fingers off my wrist and pushing his hands away from me. Phyllis is just standing there, drunk, watching while her other two friends come over and start tugging at me.
"What's wrong with you? You are going to come have a drink with us" Now he's tugging at my arm too hard, and I realize this situation is getting out of hand.
"George, you need to get your hands off of me NOW" The other two males realize I'm getting angry and they back off. But George keeps pulling my arm while i am using my entire body weight to break free.
"What's wrong with you? Stop running. you're coming with me"

**Okay ladies, listen up. Because I'm about to throw out some knowledge. If someone ever puts their hands on you, and refuse to listen to your calm request for them to release you, there's only one thing to do. Punch them. And that's what I did.

He was too drunk to really comprehend that I had hit him, just enough that he let go and gave me time to walk away. NOW Phyllis starts yelling at him. "george, leave her alone. i'm going to take her home" and then as she puts her arm around me and we walk toward the gate, she looks back and whispers in a pitch that she thinks I can't hear even tho i'm closer in distance to her than she is to the men "don't worry, i'll get her to come back".

Sorry Phyllis, I'm not fucking going anywhere with you. I march off to the gate, go inside my apt, lock the door, and start chopping onions and peppers in a frenzy, a little shaken up about what had just taken place. I wasn't thinking straight, and burned the food, smoking up the whole room. In a panic, I grab the pot off the gas, burning my fingers which begin to blister immediately. I go to turn on the water, but wait... the water hasn't been turned on yet and the water in the ration bottles is gone. Fuck fuck fuck, my hand feels like it's on fire. The coldest thing in the room is the concrete floor, so I put my hand on it. An hour later, the water turns on and my hand is still burning, so i soaked it in luke warm water while finishing making dinner - i had to finish because it was the last meal i could cook for mary before i left. and also, it kept my mind from going insane. A few minutes later mary shows up and i tell her the whole story. She tells me not to think too much about it, that i'll be leaving nakuru tomorrow and that i should never, ever get close with the landlord. She is so right. So so right.

And that night, I truly saw the ugly side of drinking, and how scary it can make people.


I couldn't wait to get the hell out of there, and barely slept and was awake at 5am and dressed and packed by 5:05am. It angered me that one person could ruin my last day in the lovely Nakuru, but I pushed past it and grabbed my stuff and walked out of that gate confidently with Mary, ready to get to Kijabe.

We lucked out because the tuk tuk driver we told to pick up Zakiah passed us on his way, so we got a free ride and I finally rode in a Kenyan tuk tuk (which is the exact same as the ones in india). We tukked along into Bondeni, which looks so different at 6am when there aren't a bunch of people yelling "mzungo, mzungo". Zakiah hopped in the tuk tuk, crutches and a small parcel, waving goodbye to her two children.
"Are you scared?" I ask her.
"No, because God will look after me" she says in kiswahili, looking up at the sky.

Maurice met us at the shuttle, when I started to feel queasy. Not like I was going to have diarrhea, but something along those lines. Whatever, no biggie, I think to myself. We silently piled in and drove off to Kijabe, where we then caught a taxi (because ppl in matatus push a lot and we didn't want to risk Zakiah getting her right before the surgery... she's been waiting for this hip replacement for months) from the top of the rift down into the valley. My ears popped and it felt at least five degrees warmer by the time we reached the hospital.

Luckily we got there early, but Mary told me that the room is usually packed and people can be in line all day waiting for service - and if you want to jump the line you must pay ksh1000. After going back and forth from the lab to the exam room four times, they finally brought Maurice to the back of the lab to draw blood. They prefer men, but they'll take anyone's blood because there's such a shortage. 15 min later maurice comes marching out, no problem. "Kuja" the lab technician says to me. I walk back and fill out a form, which asked me if I had been with anyone who's HIV status was unknown or if i'd had any febrile diseases in the past 6 months. No and no. I give the lady the form and then she asks me when my next period will be. I think in my head, oh shit. Because I was due at any hour, and I know if I tell her she'll tell me that I can't give blood. And if I can't give blood then Zakiah can't have this surgery. What would you do if someone you care about is suffering? You do whatever it takes.

"Next week", I lie.

The other two men start their IVs, and then she starts mine. I bled pretty well, but then I started to feel sick, like I was having a really awful hangover. The technician looks at me and says "Are you okay?" I look down at my bag and see it's only half full. "Yes, I'm fine." But then it gets worse. I change my body position to help the blood flow throughout my body, but the nausea is only getting worse. I hold out as long as I can, waiting until the bag has 2 pints in it, and then I quietly say "I'm feeling rather strange". She looks at the bag, decides theres enough, and then pulls the IV. The men finish theirs at the same time. We all sat for a few minutes as she analyzes the blood [my blood type is "be positive" btw =)] and then tells us we can go. We all stand up, and i think i'm okay. And then a few seconds pass and I realize that I'm blind and can't see, can't feel where to bench is, and collapse. Luckily, the bench was right under me. I say to the technician, who I can't see, that I think I need to lay down for a bit. I can feel sweat or tear drops drip down my face, and the technician asks if I'm okay. "Yes no" I say, or a i think. it gets a bit fuzzy here.
"I think it's a bit more," she says, "you're face is very white".
"It'll wear off in a few minutes" i reassure her. And indeed within a minute I could see again. However, walking was a whole new story. Overall, it took me about two hours and two sodas(which i never drink, but made an exception this time) to be able to get up and carry my huge ass bag to the matatu stage. Looking back, it probably was not the best idea to give blood from the way I've been feeling all week (mary thinking i have malaria, walking around salgaa and mogotu in the hot dry region all day, my period. But seeing Zakiah be admitted into the hospital sitting in her bed awaiting the next step in surgery... I knew it was worth it. It was totally and completely WORTH.IT.

Getting into Nairobi was a mess. I waited for Kristin for over an hour, barely staying conscious enough to ward off muggers. By the time I reached their place, I thought my head was going to explode and Dr. Willy told me I needed to eat more, so Sophie, who was sick with malaria, was trying to make me food. I told her not to because I felt very queasy, but she made me a huge plate of ugali and meat...and just as I told her, I couldn't keep it down.

A little dizzy and a bit shaky, I went to bed and woke up the next morning slightly dizzy still. I still needed to do some errands in town, but honestly couldn't even fathom the idea of walking around all day. So after a few cups of juice, tea, and a bit of minced meat, we went into town with the fourth sister, Rosemary. She actually has a really cool job working in the music industry of Afrofusion... youtube it.

We ran into dan, who is a bit shy around me now because sophie told him that i noticed he eats so much. he's really quite fit and i dont understand the big deal about it because when i told sophie that he eats a lot she was like "ahahahha he's an african man he needs his energy" or something like that. And then she told Alice and then Alice told Dan that i noticed he ate a lot.

Sophie's friend Albina came back with us, and she also has a really cool job working with viral studies run by the US military. So I got an inside look at the studies they are about to publish, and learned more about the newer viruses that people are less aware of.

Kristin and I woke up at 5am to catch the airport shuttle at 6am. I didn't want her to have to go through the trouble of coming with me to the airport but she insisted, and I'm truly glad that she did. As we were standing at the security checkpoint, I told her that if she stayed while I went thru the line I would cry, but she didn't want to leave me so she stood off to the side as the queue moved up. I kept looking back at her,waving, swallowing the knot in my throat, and then I turned around again and she was gone.

This time around plane ride around made more sense; i knew what tusker was, i understood why they served so many meals, and passed out hand towels bc ppl eat w/ their hands.I was seated next to a delightful actress from Finland who was just in Nairobi to teach an actors studio to Kenyans (and honestly, after watching the soap operas and movies, they need it!), and we both went ape shit as we flew over the Sudan and the Italian Alps, being tourists and snapping a million pictures.

The second flight from Amsterdam was with KLM, which has great smelling hand towels and soap btw! They had a 500 person double decker plane, and 50 passengers, so we all got our own 3seaters. I was next to a NY student named Julia who had just spent 6 months in Ghana, so we chatted about Africa and as I listened to her talk, she reminded me so much of myself when I was coming back in 2007 from my abroad experience. She was scared about being thrown back into American culture, and I told her it wouldn't be the worst thing to take some time to de-tox and ease back into life slowly.

As we waited in the hour and a half customs line at JFK, I couldn't help but feel incredibly uncomfortable being amongst the mzungos. It's hard to change my newly acquired habits, like not picking your nose in public and not shaking hands with everyone. Looking around, a huge wave of sadness rose in my chest. I just wanted to cry, cry because I'll miss Kris, Soph and Mary so much, cry out of fear because i don't know what will happen to them, cry because I don't know if Johnson will make it through the malaria, cry because i am back in the realm of consumerism, cry because few americans appreciate the freedoms that we have. I think that I learned so much from SAS, but had forgotten the true value of human life over the past year and was reminded of it again from my stay in Kenya. As I walked through customs, I realized that after all the bullshit with Eyepoke, after all the bullshit with the Kenyan gov't, and with Kenyan men, this adventure was worth it.