Life By the Numbers. Worth It.

6 ½ : number of months I’ve lived in Kenya

26: number of mosquito bites I have had at one time

1: number of cups of water I need to wash my hair

8: number of cups of water for a bucket bath.   Gotta conserve.  

This one time… my waterman failed to bring me water for 10 days (and it hadn't rained in a while so couldn't get water that way) so I was forced to bathe using a bottle of water.  Surprisingly, I was clean.  True story.

You know that saying glass half full vs half empty.  A Peace Corps Volunteer can take that glass and bathe in it.  Fact.  And probably use it to do some laundry.  I kid not.

3: number of people I’ve seen hit by a motorcycle/car.

37: number of kids that knock on my door wanting to play everyday.

3: number of soccer balls that have popped.  The number would be larger if I continued to supply.

45-60: number of minutes it takes me to walk to my market town/bank/post office/supermarket depending on my pace.  It’s gorgeous by the way.  But don’t take my word for it, come see for yourselves. 

Maybe 4 and that’s being generous: number of books I read in a year in the States.  

Ok, or my whole life.  

4: number of books I am currently in the middle of.

12: number of books I have finished.

9: number of donuts I ate in one day resulting in a bellyache like a 5 yr old.  Don’t judge.  There is no snack food here.  Unless of course you are a fan of eating dried minnows or catching termites. 

12: number of potatoes I eat in a week. 

27: number of people I've been sardined in a matatu with.  (This is a 14 passenger mini van taxi.)  

Of course a few chickens and dead fish were also present.  Smells awesome.  Wish I could include a scratch and sniff for you here.  Pole sana...  Very sorry.  

18: number of hours I spent on a bus in one day…with a chicken under my feet. 

Too many.  I’ve lost track:  number of times I’ve been in a vehicle with a goat.  

(Goats ride at the same cost as humans.)

1: number of monkeys I’ve seen hop a gate.  Grab a woman’s doggy bag and hop on the roof of the restaurant to enjoy free dinner.

16: number of shots I’ve been given to be here.  Ain’t no thang.

1,440: number of minutes I sweat in a day.  Ok that’s all of them.  Exaggeration but it’s dang hot under a tin roof.  (Incredibly grateful for the roof over my head though.)

3: number of minutes it takes for my hair to dry after being washed.  Who needs a blow dryer with the African sun and tin roof yo.

3: number of minutes it then takes for my hair to become drenched in sweat.

4,680/ Every one since I hopped the plane: number of hours I’ve missed my nephew, Roman.

All of them.  Well maybe that’s pushing it: number of kids I want to adopt when I grow up.

A ridiculous amount.  You’d be surprised: number of people who ask if I know Obama after finding out I’m American.   After I tell them: Ya, the President, but I don’t know him personally.  

Their next question: Oh, well how about Michelle?

 A gajillion: number of times I’ve been reminded how lucky I am at the chance I was born in the States; and that alone promises me a fair chance in life. 

Many: number of mornings I wake up and have to remind myself where I am and what I am doing. 

99: percentage of the time that I think to myself: How cool is what I’m doing.  I live in mother loving Kenya.  This is my life!?  Awesome. 

1/flipside: percentage of the time I think: This is my life!?????  I live in mother loving Kenya?  What am I doing????

Here’s the thing every Peace Corps Volunteer has sacrificed to be here.   We have all left very different lives back in the States.  Comfortable ones, at that.  With Bacon Cheeseburgers!

I could tell you about the number of times I wished I had a cold Gatorade.  20 and that’s only been in the last 8 hours.  Actually, I’d even take it hot these days  (Gatorade it’s the thing I’m stuck on missing right now.)  I could mention how I wish I could wash my clothes, I mean have a machine wash my clothes and then throw them in a dryer.  I could tell you the outrageous number of times I miss my family, fast food, home cooked meals, toilets, entertainment, showers/hot water, FOOD, football and game time food, BUT the point I’m getting at is that all the adjustments, shots, mosquito bites, lack of amenities and food choice/flavor: Worth it.

So Worth it.

I live in Kenya!  I have this incredible opportunity before me.  People get excited to see me and cheer for me everyday.  I love where I'm at and what I'll be working on for the next 20 months.  More on that in upcoming posts... next year. 

I don’t want to get preachy (and really I don’t know how I’ve ended up here) but we really don’t know how great we’ve got it. 

Enjoy your family, friends, and of course the food during this holiday season! 

Miss you all 1,000 and ten%

Bat Tag...Uh, No Thanks.

I received an awesome birthday box last week.  Today (ok every day the kids stand outside a barbed wire fence at the front, back, and side of my house calling for me to come play) so today I thought I’d bring out the NEW soccer ball for a kick or two.

There is a girl’s primary school right next to my house.  They too stand calling for me to come and talk to them.  

I have tentative plans with many of them for the coming weeks to visit their homes and meet their families.  I brought the soccer ball to the school as they requested and got mobbed by 200 girls.  I threw the ball unaware that we were playing kill the carrier.  Some chased after it.  Many stayed to pet my hair and rub the white off of my arms.  I have been in my village for 2 ½ months now and we still go through this every day.  But hey I’m not complaining about their constant compliments on how they just want to look at me because I’m beautiful (oh children, I love you) and I’m definitely not going to argue with anyone who wants to play with my hair.  Ya, I think I can manage for 2 years! ;)

They also beg me to dance with them.  I imitate or at least try and they think it is hilarious.  I have no problem making a fool of myself for kids.  I leave them with nothing less then the best white girl dance I got in me.  Seriously they all erupt with squeals and laughter, which only draws the town’s attention even further.  Though I’m starting not to notice that everyone is constantly watching every move I make.   I’m getting suffocated and lost in the sea of blue and pink uniforms.  I manage to escape by saying: look is that Obama.  I chase after my soccer ball and run like I’ve never run before back to my home.  Reminder: We are in Kenya, these kids can run yo.  

The neighborhood kids follow behind and we continue playing a more manageable sized soccer game on my compound.  Rather I should be saying futbol.  

The mamas have been watching and they call me over to the fence, meanwhile the school girls line up along the other side of the fence (I’m really not kidding when I say I have people watching me ALL the time.)  I talk to the mamas selling sugarcane and get an invitation, mostly prompted by myself, to go to her shamba (farm) tomorrow afternoon. 

I go back to playing futbol.  We have played all afternoon and I’m surprised the ball is still intact and has not been popped yet.  I could play with these kids all night…until they find an injured bat.  One kid is picking it up by its wing.  Then launches it at me and finds it funny that I am scared of that and run.  To reiterate if you did not get that…they are now throwing a half alive/ dying bat at me.   Not only is he laughing but the mamas, the school girls, the other kids, and the men who have stopped to watch.  I again for the second time of the day grab the futbol and high tail it to my house as fast as I can. 

The kids continue grabbing the bat and chucking it up in the air. It flies for a bit then drops to the ground.  The futbol is now inside, safe, with me so they throw the bat at each other for 10 minutes.  A few times they knocked on my door to get me to come back outside.  Ummm ya, I’m not gonna open my door to get a bat thrown at me.  I like sports.  I like tag.  I like Batman.  I like cultural exchange. But I am no fan of Bat Tag.  Thanks, but I'm gonna sit this one out. 

For My Grandpa

For my Grandpa.

My grandpa has lived a full life.  He has been a husband to Patricia Dressback for 65 years.  A father of 4…7 including spouses.  Grandfather to 9…15 including spouses.  And a great grandpa to 8…no spouses for those youngins yet! 

I have been incredibly blessed to call Jack Dressback my grandpa for the past 28 years (and will continue).  He has been very present in all of our lives.  

He was in the audience when I was a bee in my very first school play.  I may have even played a rock at one point and even for that I’m sure he was there, if I’m not making this up.  He spent countless hours on the bleachers watching softball, soccer, and yes even middle school girls basketball.  He picked me up from school, was at every grandparent’s day school event, fundraisers, banquets, car washes, recitals, you name it; Jack Dressback was always there, early!  He was there for my high school graduation and drove countless hours to give me a hug and congratulate me on my graduation from college.  He again drove numerous hours, with my grandmother, to sit in the congregation to hear me deliver a sermon. 

My grandpa loved cars, racing, eagles, and sports.  I am a colts’ fan because of him.  And lets not forget his obsession with John Deere.  I was young but I remember the days in Indiana when my grandparents would keep me while my parents were at work.  My grandpa would sit me on his lap and let me think I was driving the John Deere to mow the yard.   After raking the leaves and re raking after I jumped in them he would put the leaves first in the trashcan and then lift me in next, letting me stomp them down.  This is one of my favorite memories in life.  When the family moved to Florida I remember visiting my grandparents for trips to the park, K-mart, and McDonalds.

He always suited up for church and has been an usher since Noah built the ark.   

I think the whole family was shocked to learn of the news.  Jack Dressback was one of the most active and healthy 87 year olds around.  Jack Dressback was super human in my mind.  I honestly thought he would out live Methuselah. 

He lived an incredible life.  He served his country.  He was a dedicated family man.  He will remain as one of the strongest and gentle, most kind of persons I have ever met.  He will remain a hero to me. 

It didn’t matter what it was, my grandpa has been watching me, do whatever it is I do, from the day I was born.  He has shown up for every event in my life.  And as he is taking his last breaths right now, I’m heartbroken that I will not be able to show up for him, but I know he will continue to watch me.  And I’m sure there is a recliner with his name on it.  

I need to add that my grandmother was also present for all of these events as well.  I’m a pretty lucky girl. 

Jack Dressback lived…

Game Time

So after 3 meetings over a course of 3 school weeks, I just got home a few hours ago from Namboboto Secondary School Girls very FIRST softball practice!  I have to tell you after last week I didn’t think I would ever even throw a ball.  I mean it's game time but lets have a meeting...or 3. 

For the past 6 weeks, I have been going to meeting after meeting, all over Funyula, introducing myself and basically saying hey, I’ll be in the area for the next 2 years lets work together on projects, etc.  At this particular school meeting there was a box of helmets, gloves, balls, and bats in the corner and I was asked if I knew how to play baseball because they have no idea were their exact words.  Jumping ahead in my mind to their next question, which was what followed…Could I teach the girls how to play?  I must’ve lit up like the Krispy Kreme sign when the donuts are hot.  (Dunkin Donuts are still better)  

Well, since you know how to play baseball do you also know how to play basketball?  I laughed a little to myself.  Uh Michael Jordan owned my bedroom walls during the 90’s.  They inform me the boys have a coach and therefore a team, but no one will coach the girls, (say no more) which means no team.  I'll do it!  I’ll be back on Monday for the first practice.   Unsure of which one they want me to teach, but that doesn’t really matter.

3 weeks later of similar meetings on a Monday a Tuesday, a Friday we finally get the girls and the equipment to unite.  One would think it’s a simple task …give me the girls and a basketball and we’ll do this thing.  Welcome to life in Kenya!  Seriously, this was a huge triumph and I am celebrating! 

I have 50 minutes with 51 (high school) girls and 25 gloves, 3 days a week as long as it doesn’t interfere with my primary activities.   Only 1 girl had ever played prior to this day.  The rest hadn’t even seen or heard of softball.  Challenge accepted!  One of the things I love about working with children and youth is teaching them new things.  Ok, so we will start with throwing and catching.  I instruct on a few things, one being how to hold the glove, wait for the person to look before you throw so you don’t knock someone out, let’s stand in a line so escape balls (again) don’t knock someone out and then I tell the girls to get a partner, a glove, and softball for the 2 of them.  Lets start at the basics…

Before I knew it I had a line of girls I was assisting with putting on their gloves.  I assumed far too much and my prior comment on how to hold the glove was skipping ahead.  Oh, well if you are right handed you need to wear a glove on your left.  Here lets put this on your other hand. Um that’s on backwards.  You actually have to put the glove on your hand.  Not all of your fingers go in the index finger’s slot.  You only need 1 glove, not 1 for each hand.   The glove goes on your entire hand not just your fingers.  No kidding, we spent half of our time learning not the basics of softball but the basics of a glove.  Then because there are so many girls interested in playing we switched it up and I taught round 2 of glove 101.   We made it through the different ways to hold your glove to catch a throw, pop fly, and grounder.   It seems small but today was a major success! 

No right or wrong about it but feeling accomplished has a new meaning in Kenya than it did in America. 

And tonight I am feeling very accomplished!

At the end of my 2 years, softball should be feeling very used and abused by me because that’s just what I’m doing using it as my in to get to know the girls and then address the issues confronting their lives.   That’s the Game Plan, at least. 

Jersey is on.  (Or in my case, skirt)  Shoes are laced. (flip fliops)  It’s Game Time, Namboboto! 

Ghost. Celebrity. Superhero.

In the course of the past week I visited 5 schools, 2 projects that focus on orphans, a dispensary, a health clinic, a hospital, attended an HIV event, and went on a hike.  It was an insanely good week.  I have been having so many meetings with “official” people.   I was thrilled to see so many kids and talk kid projects.  No offense to adults but I would rather spend my time with kids most days.  I’m excited for the possibilities and there is so much I can get my hands in here. 

 I am going to the hospital once a week to observe all the wards.  Tuesday I was in the HIV/AIDS wing.  First the patient sees the nurse to assess if  they are taking their meds regularly, how they are feeling, temperature, BP, etc.  Then the patient consults with the dr.  who prescribes the appropriate ARV’s the patient should be taking.  The patients who are losing weight at a rapid pace visit with a nutritionist.   USAID provides nutritional flour for those whose weight is a concern.  BMI and a couple other things are measured.  As well as a serious of questions regarding the patient’s health.  I was able to consult with the nurse and the patients and got to fill out the paperwork.  I usually despise paperwork, but I enjoyed doing this.  How do I phrase this.  It’s sad that the people I am meeting with have HIV, but it felt good to be doing something related to what I came here for.  It was interesting to see what their weight was the previous visit in comparison.  I saw many people coming through the office who were in the severe category for weight and BMI.  The majority of patients on this particular day were mothers with their infants.  The infants are also given ARV’s and have checkups because the virus could be transferred from mother to child.  Some of the babies were scared of me because they think I’m a ghost.  Others played peek a boo with me and a couple brave infants let me hold them.  Before I left that day I spent some time in the pharmacy learning about different ARV’s and observing how the pharmacy works.  I get bored with a job that keeps me doing one thing all day so moving around to all parts of the clinic was just my pace.  I plan on working in this section of the hospital regularly. 

Yesterday I was in my village and I was going to buy bread.  The second I stepped out of my compound I had a kid grab a hand on both sides.  Before I knew it I had a string of kids holding hands.  We walked up and down town like this for a good while. I already have all eyes on me and stick out everytime I open my door, so you can imagine the attention this brought on.

I live right next to a girls school so when I returned home I had 50 girls swarm the gate to shake my hand, actually some of them just wanted to touch my white skin.  They rushed the fence, crowding each other, put a hand on me, pulled back quickly, did it again and shrieked and giggled.  I have never felt more celebrity than I did yesterday.  We talked for about ten minutes then I decided, I need the teachers to like me for future projects, so I shouldn’t distract them from what they called, “cleaning their school.”  Which was actually cutting the grass with machetes.   I almost ran home grabbed mine and joined in.  Actually I think I might next time.  Machete in hand makes you feel pretty awesome. ..Super hero like.  

When a week leaves you feeling like a ghost, celebrity, and superhero I’d say it was one for the books!

Karibu nyumbani yangu!

Karibu nyumbani yangu.  Welcome to my home.  The rope is my clothes line.  

My living room

My Roman wall, so naturally, this is one of my favorite things about my home.

Close second to my Roman wall.

And then there's this beauty.  I have a rad PC bestie who gave me that special find.  Kenya has random pics of equally random kids.  No worries, I repaid her and will continue to give her a pic everytime I see her.  With hopes that she will have the entire collection by the time our 2 years is over. 

My room.  Seriously, that's all there is to it. My bed, a chair, and my beloved mosquito net that keeps bugs, lizards, bats, and their poop away from me at night.  

My spare bedroom/closet.  I plan on having another bed made for visitors.  (ahem, family and friends!)  Dressers are over rated and I never liked putting my clothes away anyhow.  Plastic chairs get the job done. 

My kitchen.  I'm in here ALOT!  Girl likes to eat and everything takes preparation here.  Also, you can see my row of buckets.  Can't have enough of these in my life.  I use them for everything.  Each has it's own purpose...storing water, washing dishes, washing my hands, purifying water, washing clothes, bathing, and yep I have an "oh crap" bucket when it's too dark to use the choo outside or if I get sick.  Pretty jealous of my life right about now, ya!?  

And this is how I cook.  Kerosene stove and jiko.  With the jiko you have to use paper, sticks, and charcoal.  It's kind of an involved process and you get super dirty.  It's the short rainy season right now, so it rains everyday around the time I want to start cooking.  For these reasons, the jiko doesn't get used that much right now. 

This ends the tour of my home.  

Star Plan Shuttle Phoenix

So I am home...well my home for the next 2 years.  I arrived 2 weeks ago to my site called Namboboto.  I took a video of my place but I am in the middle of nowhere in Africa if you hadn’t heard and my internet is not so great.  

Moving to site has been a minor adjustment, but I am loving everyday in Kenya.  When I step outside my door in the morning I never know what the day holds (which I LOVE)... plastering a mud hut with cow dung, lunch at someone’s home, being invited to work in the field, dance parties with kids, meetings with community officials, long walks to places (but when you ask how far it is - the Kenyan response will always be oh it's not far. just down the road), a sweat soaked t-shirt and an hour later, you arrive.  Which brings me to today. 

I have been having a string of awesome days.  But I live in mother loving Kenya so everyday is awesome!  However, today was not one of my favorites.  My day started at its usual time of 6:30am. I am to be attending a 6 day health workers conference. I missed the first 2 days due to other meetings.  My schedule for the next 3 months is basically to get myself out there and integrate into the community while writing a community needs analysis report.  So there are a helluva lot of meetings with community leaders and members. 

Ok so back to this morning.  One of the members from my partner organization was to show me to the conference.  He said it was a bit far to walk so we should ride our bikes.  I asked how far knowing all too well that I would get the typical response of…oh not far, it is just down the road about 2 kilometers.  Ok, no big deal.  Piece of cake.  You may think biking sounds better than walking but I should tell you the roads are well less than and my bike is horrible.  Yes, it looks nice and it has a promising name…Star Plan Shuttle Phoenix.  (Right! How can you go wrong?)  But nothing about it is shuttle like or a star plan at all.  10 minutes of riding and my bike breaks.  It has been “fixed” once before.  I am still able to ride it, but it is taking 10 times as much effort as it should and the gears aren’t working.  Ok, 1 of the gears is but it is the ‘hard as crap to pedal’ gear.  My back tire is devouring my skirt at this point and I have to keep yanking it out.  I don’t want to be a wimp so I continue but I need to know how much further my legs will be in this agony.  Also, I need to get there before my tire wins this skirt battle we have going on.  Of course the response I get is…it is not far.  I refuse to take the bs answer and press again.  

Ok, you see that hill in the distance.  That is where we are going.  Are you kidding?  Not far! How was that EVER an option as an answer!?  That’s a day’s journey from here.  I hopped off the bike and ended up walking with it the rest of the way.  After 2 hours we arrive.  I’m exhausted and drenched in sweat and now I will sit on a wooden bench for 7 hours thinking about how I have to do this for the next 3 days, there and back.  

Of course the class is in Swahili and while I passed my exam my skills are not good enough to translate for 7 hours.  I must mention all of them are taking notes in English, go figure.  So I’m struggling to stay awake.  But its difficult for me to be discreet and blend since I am the only mzungu (white person and what we constantly hear called to us.) plus the class continues to refer to Sela the PCV - me.  Also, they have taken it upon themselves to change my last name because Kaufmann is too difficult.  Really!?  Because I’m having trouble deciphering the majority of names here since they seem to be mostly a combination of sounds, but sure go ahead change my name because it is difficult.  :) So I am mostly known as Sela Aumu.  Ok, I’ll take it.  Sure beats, mzungu give me your money. 

[We are seen as doctors or donors, pretty much when the community looks at us they see dollars.  As volunteers, we live on roughly $200 a month.  It’s not a lot, however, it is still considerably more than most of those we come in contact with will be able to bring home to their families. ]

I also have quite the collection of tribal names going on.  I should really write them down because they are too difficult to remember.  

After class ended I took my bike to be fixed.  It was returned to me as “fixed” 3 times before we decided they should keep it overnight.  Someone should probably tell Lance Armstrong to watch out for this girl and her Star Plan Shuttle Phoenix if it should ever get “fixed.”

Needless to say I will be walking the rest of the week.

Even though this was not my favorite day it was a good day and one that I will be sure to remember.   

This day is for the crapper

So I seriously just spent a good amount of time creating a new post only for my internet to shut down and lose it.  It was too long anyhow and quite possibly stuff you didn't care to read.  So I'll give you this for tonight...

Behind door number 2 is where business goes down.  The hundred black specks on the wall are flies. So don't open your mouth ever in that place.  When jobs ask you to list specific skills this might have to join the list.  Because using the choo is definitely a skill.  Cho-ga moves have been born and come in handy.  Not too shabby for the leg and thigh muscles either.

I shall try this whole blog thing again tomorrow.

Today looked like this...

I figure I will take advantage of the presence of internet in my life while I have it and give you a run down of what’s being going on in Kenya. 

After another short night of not so great sleep I woke up in a panic thinking I was late and had to tangle myself out of the mosquito net to see that I did not oversleep afterall.   In fact, at breakfast I realized after having talked with fellow PCV’s (Peace Corps Volunteers) I had set my watch for the wrong time and was an hour early for breakfast and training.   What can I say I’m just that eager.

We had a full day today of our first safety and security class, medical information, more paperwork – to set up a bank account, more medical papers, a few other papers.  We met PC Kenya staff.  Heard stories from 4 current PCV’s.  Got some more shots, with still more to come.  We also got a PC medical kit stocked full of everything we might need.  Malaria pills are now a daily routine for the next 2+ years.  We got a mosquito net for our site and when we travel.  And we had our first Swahili lesson.  Oh we also had 2 tea breaks.  Tea breaks are huge over here.  You pretty much hang out and drink tea multiple times throughout the day.  It’s just something you do.  Tea is also the 2^nd largest export for Kenya after coffee. 

So far I haven’t had to bust out any of the food I brought with me.  Surprisingly my stomach is allowing me to eat pretty well.   However, this may change as we move to our actual training site.  I’ll keep ya posted.  But I’m pretty sure I downed some goat tonight. 

So there ya have it.  My day in a nutshell.  

Wait...What....I'm on my way to Kenya!

So this is for real.  It is finally here.  I cannot believe that after so long of talking about doing this I am NOW doing it.

I arrived in Philly this afternoon for staging and it has confirmed 2 things for me.  1) It has reassured me of how much I want to do this and 2) that it will be the most difficult thing I have ever and may ever do.

Ahhhhhhh I am so excited.

So we are going to the clinic tomorrow morning which basically means a heck of a lot of shots.  Then we take a bus to JFK airport and depart at 6:10pm.  We will arrive in Nairobi on June 8 at 10:30pm.  There are 55 of us in this training class.  The next day we will meet the Kenya staff and will jump right in to our first lesson in Swahili.  This weekend we will meet and go "home" with our host families.

We were told tonight that we will not have access to communication for the duration of training.  So if you don't hear anything from me in 10 weeks don't be alarmed.  Hopefully after that I will be able to have access to an internet cafe.

Here is my address if you wish to write me the old school way...

Use this address for the first 10 weeks.

Sarah Kaufmann, Peace Corps Trainee

P.O. Box 698-00621

Nairobi, Kenya

Or this address at any time of my service...

Sarah Kaufmann, PCV

U.S. Peace Corps

P.O. Box 698-00621

Village Market

Nairobi, Kenya

Just a few words on that....number the letters as mail could get lost and takes a while to receive. This way we will know if we've missed a letter or they are out of order.

For those of you who have offered to send packages... The PC recommends that packages be sent in padded envelopes if possible, as boxes tend to be taxed more frequently.  Custom fees can be quite expensive. 


Ok I think that is about it for now.  I'll talk to you in 10 weeks after I have (hopefully) passed my language proficiency exam and training.  
 

12 words...Enjoy!

I'm beginning to slightly freak out.  That's putting it mildly.  

The End. 

You asked for it...

Here it is.  I'm not a blogger so this shall be fun, right!?  (I've already been staring at this screen for 5 minutes wondering where to begin...and that's a lie its been 15.)

Seriously, who knows what you will find here.  Some days I may just ramble.  Other posts might only be a sentence.  I'm glad you are along for the journey, because in all the uncertainties that come with being a Peace Corps Volunteer, the one thing I know for certain is that I will need you.  The next 27 months aren't going to be easy.  There will be a lot of blood, sweat, and tears.  Hell, and that was only the application process...yes I bestowed the name of hell on applying to the Peace Corps.  Gotta love when someone asks if all you have to do is sign up and go.  Umm ya, something like that.
I applied in March 2010.
15 months later... I will be sitting on the plane to Kenya with my insecurities taunting me and wondering what did I just sign on for.

This excites me though.  The fact that I really have no idea is thrilling.  Like I said previously, I'm gonna need you my lovely friends and family.  Emails, thoughts, Snaaaaail mail.  All of it!  Thank you for your support and kindness thus far.

Last thing...Let's just forget about grammar and such things.  I dropped out of a Masters program not once but twice (ya that's right) because I didn't want to write papers anymore.