Day 531 - A Year And A Half

Today I leave South Sudan behind for the cold land of Alberta, Canada. 

It has been an incredible and unforgettable time here in South Sudan. People have been telling me that I will be back. They will wait for my return. 

We shall see what the future brings. 

Farewell Juba

Day 514 - Zanzibar

Pictures are better than words.

Day 504 - Jumba Ruins

Day 503 - A Little Rant

This post is dedicated to all of those who know how much I loathe Styrofoam in any shape or form.

Looks like a nice rock from a distance but up close it is most certainly a hideous chunk of Styrofoam polluting the beach. Shame.

Styrofoam is a non-biodegradable material and appears to last forever. This, combined with the fact that Styrofoam is lightweight and therefore floats, means that over time a great deal of polystyrene has accumulated along coasts and waterways around the world. Just like this piece, along with dozens of others, strewed over the beach I was at. According to the internet, Styrofoam is now considered the main component of marine debris.

Styrofoam is made of petroleum, which of course is a non-sustainable resource and creates heavy pollution. AND when you use Styrofoam for food, chemicals can leach into the food from the container. These chemicals can affect human health and reproductive systems. 

Now obviously these are extremes and I do not know anyone who uses Styrofoam on a regular basis, however, in my opinion, using it at all is horrible and there are alternatives to using Styrofoam.

Living in Juba, where the only kind of recycling done is locals using water bottles for containers to sell milk or oils or fuel in. Other than that, most of the other trash gets thrown into a pile and burned or left there to rot. Originally it was difficult to come from home where we can recycle just about everything, to a place where recycling doesn't really exist. Now I am used to it, of course it still bothers me but there is not much I can do about it. We are polluting our world. Lets do what we can to reduce the pollution. Every little bit counts.

SAY NO TO STYROFOAM.

Day 501 - A Beach Is A Beach

After a relaxing breakfast it was time to venture into town to do a little shopping. It was a rather successful trip. My friend from Juba (who so kindly decided to come to Mombasa to join me for a few days) and I made our way to the public beach, driven but our newfound extremely reliable and trustworthy boda boda driver.  Safely sandwiched on the boda, we started our trek down the road, through Mtwapa and past all of the resorts, where I know all the people staying at those places are missing the real experience of Mombasa. To my surprise the public beach was amazing. Aside from the usual vendors trying to sell you stuff, get you to go for a ride on their boat, or ride their stinky, very sad looking camel, the beach was beautiful. When the tide is out there is a very long beach, sans rocks and seaweed, so you can walk for a really long time and swim in deep water without any seaweed under you. My kind of perfect ocean swimming. We did make it to a point where there was seaweed. I waded/floated/swam in the water for a good hour or so without putting my feet down; I was terrified of the seaweed and sea urchins. But I finally had a proper swim in the ocean. 

I had had enough of the water before the rest of the friends I was with so I made my way to the beach and relaxed at a restaurant called Pirates until the rest joined me. We spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing, watching the tide come in and the stars come out.

We were sitting right on the beach so there were people walking back and forth trying to get us to buy what they were selling. There was this one guy in particular that wanted us to go out on his boat. We had no interest and told him just that, however he continued to stand there and just stare at us. I had had enough of it and asked him if he could keeping walking and not stare at us. He was obviously offended by this as though it was a perfectly respectable thing for him to stand three feet from us and just stare. He eventually walked away and came walking past again chanting, “A beach is a beach. A beach is a beach. A beach is a beach.” It was quite entertaining. 

Moral of the story: A beach is a beach however staring is rude.

Day 498 - Old Town

My adventure through Old Town today began at 10:30am. I had a boda boda driver I met, his name is John, take me out to see some sights. I had my first mutate ride. I am quite certain that I had the most uncomfortable seat in the whole van. I was in the front seat, in the middle, sitting on what felt like a piece of plywood covered in upholstery. The engine also just so happens to be under the front seat so my seat was uncomfortable hot. I not only had a numb bum, but also a overheated butt. Two uncomfortable things no person wishes to inflict on themselves. With music blaring, it was comparable to a really bad nightclub. We drove past vendors on the street, boda bodas. We pasted one carrying five people. I am quite certain that is the record in my books.  We arrived to our destination, Old Town in Mombasa, where we walked around and attempted to visit a Hindu Temple. Our access was denied at the Hindu Temple for unknown reasons. We walked about, enjoyed the architecture. Old town is quite beautiful. There are electrical wires strung overhead on every street. This adds character to the place but it also takes away some of the attractiveness of the buildings. Fort Jesus was next on the agenda. It was a very interesting tour and I am quite happy I went there.

Once two o’clock came along, I was quite ready to be done being the tourist in Mombasa so home it was. One last stop for a late lunch at a local place and then back home to the beach.

 I had another challenging moment today. I had to get a centipede out of the house. This involved a magazine and quite a bit of squealing. I managed to throw the nasty thing out the window after dropping it only once. Centipedes are so gross.

History lesson Fort Jesus:

The Portuguese Vasco da Gama first came to Mombasa in 1498, but his relations with the town’s people deteriorated rapidly. After just one week the Portuguese thought it prudent to sail on to friendly Malindi where they established their first East African base. But Mombasa’s natural harbour soon attracted foreign attention and a Turkish expedition built a fort there in 1589. Fearing for the security of their route back to Portugal, the Portuguese attacked and took Mombasa in 1593, and began at once to build a large fort to guard the harbour entrance. The Portuguese regarded themselves as the representatives of Christendom rather than of Portugal, and for this reason they sailed under the flag of the Order of Christ. Jesus was therefore an obvious name for the new fort. Its angular form was dictated by the rules of military defense and an Italian architect from Goa, the Fort now lies tranquilly in the sun. But it was not always so. Fort Jesus has suffered  a history of murder, siege, starvation, bombardment and treachery that makes our modern world of hi-jacking and thuggery seem quite tame. And in those pre-radio days every sail that appeared on the horizon must have caused nerve-racking hours of anxiety to the small colony, (probably never more than a hundred strong men) and separated from home by six months sailing. Fort Jesus has preserved the same basic shape as when it was built nearly 400 years ago. 

Day 497 - Stories

I woke up at 6:30 today. It was the first cloudy and 'dreary' day since I arrived here, and when I say cloudy and dreary I just mean that the sun is not blinding you are it rises. It was a beautiful morning. Due to my major withdrawal from human interaction I decided to venture into town. I ended up getting a massage, mediocre but still enjoyable and at $7 for an hour who am I to complain. After walking through the streets and being majorly haggled by street vendors, I hopped on a boda boda to escape. Apparently tourism has not been too good lately, maybe it is off-season, so seeing a Mzungu, foreigner in Swahili, means money. I only bought a ring, mainly due to the fact that I have no clue how much should cost and I only had limited funds on me. I never feel good when I get ripped off, and getting ripped of is what they all had planned for me. This little adventure took up half of my day.

My boda boda driver had two circle scars on his cheeks. I learned that the Masai also have scarification rituals or at least that is how it seemed according to the driver’s words. Very interesting. This will require more research for sure (once I have stable internet access).

I also discovered today that there are poisonous snakes around. I was walking down to the beach as I always do and there it scurried away as I put my foot down. Eek. After that I had to find out if it was poisonous or not in case I ever find myself in another snakes presence.

This is unrelated to my day today, but the snake has got my mind going. Monday, October 1^st, my last day at the AECOM compound I had a life altering experience. I had gone hiking Jebel the day before and we had to trek through extremely tall grass to get to the top.  It was quite ridiculous actually. We lost the trail a million times; it was afternoon so we were sweating buckets. To say the least, this last climb was my least favorite of the three times I have hiked Jebel. Once we reached the top I recovered from the awful climb. It was, as before, so peaceful and one of my favorite ways to experience Juba. While climbing the reality of coming across spiders, snakes, ants and various other insects crossed my mind many times. So back to Monday. I was packing up my room and randomly stopped to scratch my head, only to find something stuck in my hair. I proceed to pull it out of my tangled mess of hair only to find that half way out of my hair it was a tick. A TICK! I had a freak out with the thing still hanging out in my hair. I finally got it out and had another panic about whether I had pulled the head off or not. Thanks to the confirmation from a wise friend in the compound, I pulled it off with the head intact. An awful moment in my life survived and recovered from. Lesson of the story, if one finds a foreign piece of something in their hair and they have been in the wilderness or grass or nature of any sort do not immediately remove. Check before removing. This way, someone else will find the tick and they can remove it instead of you having to do it.  Even telling this story makes me paranoid I have ticks crawling on me… Eww.

Back to Mombasa. I learned that the prison here is considered to be worse than the one in Bangkok, or somewhere in Asia. Apparently the conditions were so poor that the US, Canada, Germany and four other countries got together and built a new wing specifically for jailing pirates. It was said that the conditions of Mombasa’s prison was unfit for the pirates. I thought it was interesting and kind of strange. 

Day 496 - Seashell Seashell By The Sea Shore

Today there was no power. This was not a problem for me until just now, 18:15, when I am getting tired of reading and once it is dark I will have nothing to do but sit. After a phone call to a great friend in South Sudan, I sat thinking about how dependent on power I am, particularly when I am alone. If I had people around to chat with and spend time with, a lack of power would not be such an issue. I was alone, getting antsy, and was hoping the power would come on soon. About thirty minutes later, AHHH, the power turns on. Thank you power for saving me from an evening of utter boredom. I would love to say that I would have been fine this evening without power, but not this time. Power is my friend when it gets dark at 19:00 and there is no one around to talk to…

Today I went to a long walk up the beach. I found a shell graveyard and I have to go back tomorrow with a bag. So many beautiful shells!! It was a lovely walk. I almost lost my flip-flop, in what I would describe as quick sand. I took one step and all of a sudden I was in sand half way up to my knees. I panicked because who knows what is in that sand, but I made it out alive, my flip-flop sustained a minor injury, however it was fixable. Upon my return I did a few laps in The Neighbor’s pool to soothe my hot skin.

It turns out that The Neighbor is an amazing artist; he paints acrylic paintings and does metal work. He showed me some amazing pieces. A very talented person.

I finished my book today. I had been reading Emma’s War for the last few months so it was nice to finally finish it. Quite and incredible story. So interesting to read about how South Sudan was twenty years ago and what ex-pats had to go through in those days. 

Day 494 - Cockroaches

Last night I was, what I call in my mind, attacked by a cockroach. Possibly the same one that was in my room the other night; I cornered it, planned on throwing a shoe at it but I ended up having to doom it to death. Just as I finished killing that one, another one came scurrying along as if to spite me for killing its friend. I also killed a centipede today, I felt bad but it had to be done. As far as I know they are poisonous, and it almost fell on me! Eww. AND I just killed another cockroach that greeted me in the kitchen sink as I was going to do dishes. I barely survived that one. Bugs…so gross.

Aside from the insects, I have had a lovely day. I spent the morning reading my book and soaking up some sun. I took a boda boda to town to do a proper grocery trip and get myself a SIM card. It was a successful trip, except for the few things I of course forgot to get.

I walked up and down the beach this afternoon and then read some more. I did venture into the ocean, far enough for the waves to reach my shoulders, but I couldn’t get up the courage to stay in longer. The seaweed and the thoughts of what is in the water was enough to make me get out. During my beach walk I saw a turtle coming up on the beach. It was going to lay its eggs, however, the dogs scared it away with their barking, or I scared it away while I was taking pictures. I choose to blame the dogs. The turtle will be back tonight to lay its eggs.  Super cool that I got to see a turtle, just unfortunate that it got scared away.

Unfortunately I am more on the North coast, which means I don’t get to watch a sunrise or a sunset. The ocean is still beautiful either way.

Another lovely day almost over…

Day 493 - Down By The Ocean

Nothing can compare to the sounds of waves crashing on the beach and a cool ocean breeze on a lazy Monday. Sitting with chai on the veranda with a gorgeous ocean view…this is almost perfection.

If you have spent anytime with me, I am sure at one point you heard at least one tale about how my arrival in a new place has gone not as planned.  My arrival in Mtwapa, last night was a typical Caryn arrival. My flight from Juba was delayed. I had one hour in the Nairobi airport to get my visa and get to the domestic departures. I got off the plane and was escorted across the tarmac and to the visa counters by one of my airlines employees to ensure I would not miss my flight. I wait impatiently in the visa line. My flight leaves in a half hour. I finally receive my visa, it is put onto the 3^rd last page I have remaining in my passport and I rush off to find my gate. After the hurried short trek to domestic departures, I of course leave my phone and iPod in a basket at the security check. Thankfully I did get them back like 5 minutes later thanks to a lady who found them and gave them to an airport employee. I rush to the gate to discover that my flight to Mombasa has been delayed. The rush was for nothing. I sat and waited under a blaring TV until they called for the boarding of my flight.

After a quick take off, thirty minutes later we are in our descent. I wait for my luggage and it comes rolling up to me sitting half opened. Thank you airport staff for caring that my bag was sitting half open; so kind. You would think that seeing this someone would take the thirty seconds it would have taken to zip it closed. Thankfully nothing was missing. I meet my taxi driver and we start the trek to Mtwapa. A quick stop at Nakumat, a wonderful proper super market with everything someone coming from Juba, where selection of groceries is severely limited and off once again to my destination. Driving through Mtwapa, seeing the sights and then off onto a road reminiscent of Juba roads, we reach My Friend’s house where I will be staying at for two weeks. I find the watchman who is supposed to have the key for the house, and to my dismay he does not have the key. I then proceed to try and call The Neighbor whose number I was given to find that I dialed a complete stranger who most certainly was not The Neighbor. I end up walking to The Neighbor’s house, in the most polite way possible bang on the neighbor’s gate while yelling, “HELLO! WAKEY WAKEY! [The Neighbor]! PLEASE HELP THIS POOR MZUNGU!” A groggy Neighbor emerges, with a smile, and hands me the key.  I cart my bags to the door and of course, I cannot get the thing unlocked. It is an old door with an old fashion lock and old fashion key to match. With no success The Neighbor ventures over and within seconds has the door open and I can finally breath. I had made it. The house is gorgeous. Very much a beach house. I can hear the ocean but cannot see it through the darkness.

I get ready for bed, put down the mozzie net, which to my dismay I cannot tuck under the mattress, only to half a cockroach the size of a mouse scurry out from under my bed. Eww. I was tempted to sleep with the lights on to deter the nasty creature from emerging again but decided I was being ridiculous so I turned off the lights, put my music on and tried to block out the thoughts of being attacked in the night by insects.

I wake up to a beautiful breeze, sans any sort of bug near me nor my bed :) The house lady, a wonderful Kenyan woman, heated water and had everything set up for a morning coffee or tea for me, after she opened the backdoor (which in my mind is actually the front due to the location of it) for me because I could not get it unlocked. I will really have to figure out how to lock and unlock the door today, otherwise I will never be able to leave.

I whipped up some porridge, grabbed my book, coffee and took to the veranda, which I have decided is one of my favorite places in the house, aside from the actual beach and a perfectly placed seats made of concrete and rock, on the edge of the hill over looking the beach.

There is nothing better than a relaxing day on a beautiful beach to give peace of mind for someone who has a lot going on up there :)