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Nairobi, Kenya

Tried to post some pictures too, but the connection is too slow.

Day 5- The Roller Coaster Continues

So when last I left you, I was a bit down on things, but once again my mood has picked up. It actually started at dinner last night when I was once again one of the last arrivals, and thus forced to sit with the head sister and the only other male guest. The meal was much more to my liking- a beef stew, white rice, and oranges, so already it was an improvement.

The conversation also picked up a bit, with Francis, a Kenyan from the western part of the country, talking with the sister about his work in community development and in particular working on empowering young people through communication. These are typical buzz words in US educational circles, but they don’t seem to be very prevalent ideas in Kenya. We exchanged stories about our work and he was extremely interested in keeping in touch and networking for our common purposes. I told him this is not my full time job, but it is an interest and I would be happy to put him in touch with others who might be helpful to him.

The sister was also drawn into our conversation, and it was Francis who asked her what congregation she belonged to, a question I had been meaning to ask myself (at the suggestion of my Godmother, a Sister of Mercy herself). It turns out she is a Mary Magdalene sister, but the others in the house are of various congregations. She definitely seemed to warm up to me, and for once I actually stayed at the table for longer than it took me to shovel down my food.

At the end of the meal, the younger woman I met two nights before, she of the mischievous smile and the incisive questions, asked if we would like to watch a DVD after dinner. I was willing, but a bit hesitant when I found it was Hotel Rwanda, a powerful film but not necessarily something I needed to see twice. It turned out I was the only one who had seen it, so I agreed to watch and helped explain what was going on when the others got a bit lost. It was tough to watch again, but worthwhile to see, especially as it seemed like the Kenyans were largely unaware of the events.

This morning I reported to school, walking all the way on my own for the first time, and with no wrong turns. Jill told me that Ben would be coming by to take me to meet with the graduates who were meeting for their weekly reflection after their week of community service, and Ben showed up shortly after 9.

We walked out of Kibera and up a hill on the south side, and almost immediately it felt like we were out in the country, except perhaps for the ubiquitous barbed wire fences (although those may be present in the country too, for all I know). We walked to the Nairobi headquarters for the Kenya Scouts, a huge campground with hundreds of teenagers running around and playing various camp games. There were dogs, and deer, and huge birds, and monkeys in the trees. I could not believe we were maybe a mile from Kibera.

There was some mix-up on the meeting time, so we ended up waiting maybe 45 minutes before anyone else showed up, which seemed to make Ben nervous, like he was disappointing me, but I didn’t mind just sitting down, reading the paper, and taking in the surroundings. It was surprisingly cold, but I didn’t mind the fact I could see my breath (unlike Ben, who had not brought a jacket). Eventually Dennis, who is the leader of the post-graduate program, and Humphrey showed up, and we sat down to have a conversation while the kids arrived.

Our conversation was quite productive, as I explained to Dennis my background and tried to downplay my experience, which is consistently being exaggerated, as a counselor. Even if I had spent the last 7 years as a guidance counselor rather than an admissions officer, I doubt I would have enough knowledge of the Kenyan system and the lives of these students to serve effectively as a career/college counselor in the next two weeks. But I also want to be useful in some way.

So we discussed having me help to build a database of all 240 students at St. Al’s to be used in counseling them. Dennis said he has already begun to put together some aspects of a database, and I offered to take a look at what they have and also to solicit advice from my friends and colleagues in the states as to what they use and to see what we may be able to get pro bono. So if you are reading this and have any advice, don’t hesitate to email me. In any case, I appears I will be spending a few days over the next few weeks in their office to work on this project.

After our meeting, Humphrey left and we met with the remaining post-graduates. I say remaining, because of the orginal group of 20 graduates, one dropped out and around 10 have already started some kind of college program, leaving 8 to come to the meeting. Of those 8, still 5 more will be starting college within the next few weeks, including one girl heading to a branch campus of the University of Wisconsin.

The group gets together every Friday for reflection and to share their issues with Dennis and Ben. During the week they are each assigned to various organizations in Nairobi to perform service. The original plan had been to have students perform internships one day a week throughout their 4 years at St. Al’s, and in turn to have the corporations they intern for contribute to their educational expenses, but that culture of corporate responsibility is hard to come by in Kenya at this point.

The service projects are typically working with younger children, and the group seemed to enjoy their work. They also receive a small stipend to pay for their lunch. However, at this point their focus was squarely on college, and perhaps even moreso for the three students who still have not secured a place. Like almost every Kenyan I have met thus far, the group spoke very softly and was quite shy, but I did manage to have good conversations with a few of them during our tea break. I fear the girl headed for America’s Dairyland does not really know what she is getting herself into, but she may yet prove me wrong.

I now have the weekend off and I am hoping to see some of Nairobi now that I have 2 full days of daylight. It seems odd that I have been in the country for 5 days now without sampling the local brew, but the situation has made it difficult for me to do so, and a bit of time off after Ireland was probably in order anyway. I am also hoping to make arrangements for a trip to one of the parks, hopefully Masai Mara, to conclude my trip.

I will try for some first week reflections soon.

Kesho. (Until tomorrow, or whenever).

Brain Download

Nairobi, Kenya- Internet Cafe

OK- Finally got around to getting everything onto disk and then onto the blog. This is really long, pretty much unedited, and yet still only about half of what is going through my head. Scary, I know. Tough start for Sox-Yanks, I hear, but that is why they play full seasons.

Day 1- Arrival at Tumaini

The exchange at Heathrow was a bit tight, but I made my flight on time and the 8 hours from London to Nairobi was not as bad as I had feared when I first got to my seat and was surrounded by screaming babies and angry parents. I slept for a good part of the flight and would have slept more if not for the man next to me deciding that 8 rum and cokes was a good idea, thus necessitating at least 8 trips to the toilet.
At Nairobi Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, the visa process was extremely easy- fill out a form, show my passport, hand over $50, and on my way to baggage reclaim. My bags also showed up quickly, and after a brief search I found my driver holding my name card. I had expected to be assailed by people trying to offer me a ride into town, but the entry hall, though crowded, was pretty subdued, perhaps because it was 6 am. The first ATM I tried failed, but otherwise I was happy to be on my way.
The ride from the airport was less reassuring. My driver was polite and rarely spoke to me, except to tell me how fortunate we were not to encounter much traffic. We rode along as the sun came up, past streams of Kenyan men walking in the other direction, where to I had no idea. We pulled off the main road and went through a few neighborhoods, and it seemed like the whole world was up walking to work, but I never figured out where work was. After a series of twists and turns leaving me totally turned around, we pulled up to a closed gate with a mural on it, indicating the Association of Sisterhood Kenya Tumaini Centre. The guard opened the gate and closed it behind the car, and both the driver and I signed in. After removing my bags and collecting his fare, the driver wished me well and drove off.
I had apparently miscalculated about the whole world being up for work, as there was no immediate sign of life inside Tumaini and little help offered by the guard. At least until I heard thin singing coming from behind a door marked chapel. A maid came along and told me to have a seat in the hallway, and eventually the service ended and several Kenyan sisters came out, along with a large group of primarily women who appeared to be Chinese. Most of them ignored me, until the last sister emerged, a squat woman who appeared to be in charge, so I asked her if I could check in with her.
She greeted me with a blank stare, so I tried to rephrase the question, adding more information about who I was, explaining that Fr. Charlton had arranged for me to stay there. None of it seemed to register with her, but she did break out the register and set about finding a room for me, and after a few more negotiations with the maid, she found me a place to sleep. She asked how long I was staying, and at that point I was almost going to tell her “not long, I hope” but I gave her my departure date, although I did not pay anything up front either.
She and the maid showed me to my quarters in what appeared to be an empty wing of the complex, and the room looked pleasant enough, with a bed, a desk, a set of drawers, and a shower and toilet complex at the end of the hall. All of that was as good as could be expected. More disappointing was signs indicating that all residents were required to be in by 9 pm every night, no exceptions, for safety reasons.
I found the breakfast room and found two tables occupied by what I later discovered was a missionary group from Hong Kong and two other tables occupied by sisters, none of whom even acknowledged my presence. There was also a table occupied by a lone white girl, so I went to sit with her and found out she was a German nursing student on a budget holiday, and she was leaving for home in two days. She was at least reasonably welcoming, but no great help in finding out where I was or what I was doing.
I asked over at the Hong Kong table if any of them knew a woman who worked at St. Aloysius and it was then that I met Stephanie, an enthusiastic, tiny Chinese woman who told me she was bringing a group to St. Al’s around 9:30, and asked if I would like to come. Unsure of what else to do or how I would get out of the room otherwise, I initially agreed, but upon returning to my room I felt very sleepy and, I will admit, pretty scared, and thought maybe my first impression at St. Al’s would not be very good right then, so I told Stephanie I would rest and unpack for the day, then join her tomorrow.
Unpacking was not too complicated, so resting is most of what I did. The bed felt comfortable and safe, while the rest of the world felt very foreign and not particularly safe or welcoming. It was undoubtedly paranoia more than anything, but it did not prevent me from sleeping a lot. Maybe the lack of sleep I had enforced on myself in Ireland was catching up with me too. Regardless, I slept for large parts of the day, skipping any sort of lunch, ate dinner quietly (a decent beef stew with elbow macaroni, salad, and fruit), and returned to bed to sleep again. My room is close to a major thoroughfare (Ngong Road), so automobile noises are a constant, but they did not prevent me from sleeping quite soundly.

Day 2- First encounter with Kibera
I woke up Tuesday morning and made a conscious effort to bring a new attitude to the day. The sun was out, so right away Nairobi seemed somewhat nicer compared to the grey day I had seen when I first arrived. I got the shower to produce hot water, so I was off to another good start. I ate breakfast again with my German friend Jana and agreed to meet Stephanie to walk to St. Al’s at 9:15 with a group of her friends from Hong Kong.
That left me a few minutes to return to my room, where I was reading when a knock came and I was told I had visitors. The visitors turned out to be Kiambi, the headmaster at St. Al’s, and Humphrey, my primary contact and the development coordinator for CLC Kenya. Their presence was unexpected, but nice, as it indicated once again that someone knew I was coming. They offered to walk me over right away, but I did not want to confuse Stephanie, so I told them I would join them shortly.
The road to Kibera involves a few turns, but it is essentially due south from Tumaini, and only about a 15 minute walk. The road first passes a fairly ordinary strip mall, then an outdoor market with dozens of stalls each selling seemingly random items, then passes through another street lined with stalls, before crossing a railroad track and descending into seemingly endless acres of tightly packed tin roof shacks, the largest sub-Saharan slum in Africa, home to nearly 1 million souls, Kibera.
I had attempted to prepare myself for the smell there, knowing that I have a bit of a weak stomach, and as a result, the strong odors did not surprise me, but they certainly had their effect on the group from Hong Kong, most of whom were covering their mouths and noses with cloths. I did not breathe it in too deeply, and I was perhaps glad to be somewhat congested, but it did not knock me out. A strong cocktail of body odor and sewage, leavened with smoke. It must be much worse in warmer weather, but it was nothing I could not tolerate.
Our group skirted around the edge of the slum and made our way to the southwest corner, along a road that circles Kibera. As we walked along, every child we encountered sang out “How are you?” to the obvious outsiders. We made our way past a large heap of garbage that had attracted a small group of goats, jumped over a small stream that appeared to be an open sewer, crossed a foot bridge where we were greeted with a hug and a “Jambo” from a rail thin grade schooler, and we were at Kiambi’s office, in a space St. Al’s shares with St. Cecilia’s primary school. The Hong Kong group dropped off their lunches in the office and went off on their way, leaving me to talk with Kiambi and Humphrey.
We sat in a small, cluttered office with concrete floors and wooden chairs. There was light coming in through the roof and there appeared to be some electricity in the building as well. I was asked to sign a visitors log, and then we got down to business. Humphrey started out by saying something about how we had left it open as to what I would be doing at St. Al’s, then essentially asked me what I wanted to do.
While that was not the opening I had hoped for, it was essentially what I expected, and it made me happy I had taken an extra day to prepare for the meeting. I began by explaining more about my background, about what I had studied in college, about an interest in education and working with young people, about my previous job, and about my impending career as a lawyer. I said I was open to all possibilities and that I hoped to help the students and the school in any way I could, and that I also wanted to get to know the people and place so that I could explain it better to people back home who might want to help in the future.
At that, the conversation picked up, and both Humphrey and Kiambi had several ideas of how I could be utilized. They first mentioned a program they conduct called Education for Life, on Monday afternoons, which deals with topics that might not be encountered in the classroom but which are important to learn. Subjects range from AIDS and drug education to personal grooming to proper conversational and interview skills. I offered that I would be happy to help, though I would not know where to begin, and they assured me I could be helpful there.
Next they seized on my college admissions background and suggested I could work with their students in helping to organize the college application process and career counseling work. The first class graduated from St. Al’s last year and is currently involved in what is called a bridging program, where the students perform community service during the week and get together on Friday’s for reflection while they wait to be admitted to college, which runs on a different term and which is not an option for many students due to costs and limited space. From the sounds of things, there is much work to be done with the graduating students, and I am going to be asked to play a role there.
Regarding my law studies, they also mentioned the law club, which meets in the afternoons as well. They apparently had a Kenyan lawyer mentor, but he has since left, and they asked me if I would be willing to meet with the students and discuss law with them. After making sure they knew the differences in American law and Kenyan law, I agreed it would be a fine idea, and they mentioned the club’s broader goal of social justice, which is very appealing to me.
Kiambi asked me if I had any interest in sports, and I told him I was very interested, leading him to smile broadly and immediately sign me up for sports duty. I did remind him that all of the kids could likely run circles around me, but that did not phase him. Thursday afternoons are sports, and I will be involved somehow.
Finally, it was suggested that I could potentially help out in English classes, and that I could otherwise be made available to provide additional one on one tutoring support for students who were struggling in a particular subject. With that, I suddenly had quite a bit on my plate, so long as everyone follows through and I work to get involved.
Our meeting lasted maybe 45 minutes, and then I was taken on a tour of the school. There is one classroom, for the 4th form (seniors) near Kiambi’s office. I later discovered all the classrooms are basically the same, with as many desks as possible packed in, a blackboard at the front, and a combination of natural light and a few exposed lightbulbs to brighten the room. There was a “lab” next door- I believe it was Humphrey who used the quotation marks, and for once I had found a high school with worse science facilities than Reiss. Not surprising, of course, but not nearly enough room to allow students to conduct their own experiments.
From there, Kiambi and Humphrey took me up the hill to the upper school, where most of the students reside. We made our way through a series of tiny alleys, all full with children who were apparently not in school, many of them likely too young, but also many of them not given the opportunity- St. Al’s could easily find 5 times more students who would like the opportunity above the 200 or so already enrolled. The walk up the hill was somewhat treacherous, scrambling over rocks and jumping over open sewers, and it was very confusing, but we made it to the upper building unscathed, and it was there I was introduced to Jill, the vice headmistress, who keeps her office there.
Her office was very dark indeed, as the electricity had gone out, and there was not much natural light to work with. She was very welcoming, and we discussed again some of the plans we had made in Kiambi’s office. We also went into more personal discussions, with me asked what I know about Kenya (embarrassingly little), some elementary Swahili to not sound like a total tourist, and then a discussion of US politics. Apparently Barack Obama has some strong support in Africa. They all were lovely to talk to, and seemed happy to have my help.
We then toured the upper school, stopping in to most of the six classrooms to introduce me to the students. A few of them had some questions for me, but they seemed a bit reticent to say much in front of their peers, a familiar phenomenon at high schools world wide. When we finished our tour, I was surprised to discover it was barely past noon, given how much I had seen and how much I had learned. Humphrey was heading back to the CLC office, and offered to take me along and allow me internet access so that I could let my poor mother know I was alive.
We took a bus along Kibera’s main drag, full of people selling all kinds of things, and not crafts, but seemingly random items that could have little use to anyone else in the area. There is clearly a story to where the goods come from, but I haven’t asked yet. The bus brought us back to Ngong Rd, and then we hopped into a matatu, the signature form of transportation in Kenya from what I can tell. Matatu’s are small vans, packed with people, driven along terrible streets but with regular routes.
Our matatu was headed west, away from Nairobi City Centre and toward the Shalom House, where CLC is located. I got online there, then Humphrey took me to a nearby shopping center to find a working ATM, and finally put me on a bus back to Tumaini. I got back around 2, went to the grocery store for some water and a snack, and retired to my room to read and nap until dinner.
Dinner was once again edible, to my delight, this time it was spaghetti with seasoned ground beef and an orange for desert. So I may not eat particularly well, but I won’t starve. I was joined at my table this time by three younger Kenyan women, probably in their late teens/early 20’s. I am not sure their story, they appear to be in training for the sisterhood, but one asked incisive questions about my chosen profession of the law, particularly curious about how one could defend a guilty man. I am not sure I gave her the best answer, but I know I have an idea for the next meeting of the St. Al’s law club. She also taught me more Swahili, which I have promptly forgotten.
I retired to my room and finished “How Soccer Explains the World” by Franklin Foer, then was asleep by 10. Kenya apparently makes me sleepy. The book is recommended if you enjoy a bit of soccer thrown in with your lessons in globalization. It was a very quick read for me.

Day 3- The Feast of St. John the Baptist
I went to Kibera with the Hong Kong delegation again today, this time all of us in a matatu, and arriving a little after 10. Tomorrow I think I will have confidence enough to walk myself. There is nothing dangerous about the route, I was just unsure of my bearings. When I arrived, I was shown to what will be my office, the counselors office that was recently vacated. They will be hiring a replacement, but for now, the space is open to me. Of course the lights weren’t working, so I moved to the library to set up. I was not given a specific assignment, rather I was just allowed to sit there and have people come to me.
My first visitor was a 3rd former named Jared, and we had a very fun conversation. He is the library prefect, so we had a brief discussion about the library, then we moved on to learning about each other. He was full of questions about the US. Probably the funniest was wanting to know if there were really robots like the Terminator. But he also wanted me to explain what was meant by a “cold” war, why the US was a superpower, whether there was an official relationship between US, Mexico, and Canada, and what the weather was like in Boston. He seemed very bright, but I also realized how far away from home I was and how young he seemed in comparison to similar aged students in the States.
Throughout the day I also had other students stop in for briefer meetings, and we discussed their favorite subjects and their career ambitions. To their credit, these students aim high, with responses typically being surgeon, lawyer, and journalist. They are proud of where they go to school and they seem to want the best from their lives.
Of course that enthusiasm was tempered by a conversation with my other visitor for the day, Ben Osaha, who works for CLC and St. Al’s in the bridging program. He was excited to meet me and to discuss the many issues confronting the students, and the reality check was quite sobering. We sat in a library with 2001 World Book encyclopedia and a few other random volumes, and of course no internet access (or even any computer). He told me that despite all best efforts, the highest mark on the KGSE from last year’s graduates was a B, which is not enough to get a place in the free public universities, and as a result 9 students had places at (expensive) private colleges and the rest had nothing.
He told me about how students had high aims, but they were simply not realistic for most of them, even with aid money coming in through CLC. He was upset that none of the graduates was interested in teaching, and that all seemed to view trades as beneath them. He longed for some students to take an interest in carpentry or welding, and he lamented the loss of jobs in the market with the information economy. We both agreed that giving students access to computers and the web would help show them other opportunities, and that a change of attitude was needed to convince them to view skilled labor as a step in the right direction.
Ben was clearly making a sales pitch to me, and it worked. He is a bright guy, a sociologist by training, and he was not afraid to say more help is needed. He is also likely to continue to show me concrete ways that money can help. His goal is entirely appropriate- he wants to create students who can be self-sufficient, not merely provide maintenance. To put it another way, he wants to teach these kids to fish.
The business climate in Kenya makes this goal especially difficult, with no tradition of corporate philanthropy, and a desire for immediate results from the recent movement of social responsibility in business. Investing in school age kids does not bear the same type of immediate fruit as investing in environmental projects, or sponsoring football academies. And even asking for help is a challenge inside Kenya, as the school is not officially certified by the government and would likely risk closure if it were inspected by education authorities, absurd as it would be.
All of that is where a new school building could go a long way toward improving the situation. According to Terry, they have now raised enough money for the project, thanks to generous grants from the US government, and they have the land, but permitting issues are holding things up. Even so, the hope is to have a new building some time in 2008, and that would be a tremendous step in the right direction.
Later in the day, I got to see the whole school community together at a special mass for the Feast of St. John the Baptist. It is unusual to celebrate a beheading, but I think they just needed a reason to have a midweek mass while the Hong Kong contingent was still there, and I know it had a great effect on them.
The readings were in English, but most of the songs were in Swahili, and I must say they do it right. The school choir was lively and entertaining, and everyone in the school joined in on most verses. Terry’s homily was brief, but it struck a note with me, simply asking how far each of us would go to stand up for our beliefs, whether we could follow in the footsteps of John the Baptist. I don’t think I am strong enough to lay down my life for an idea, but I think this trip is making me stronger.

Day 4- In which I feel useless

First I should mention dinner last night. Once again I took a nap in the afternoon before dinner, something I never do at home. Just to assuage any fears, I don’t feel sick in any way, just that I have nothing other to do besides read and write after I leave school, and I somehow get sleepy. Going out an exploring the city without someone with me and with only a few hours before dark is just not appealing to me.
In any event, I went to the dining room and was the last to arrive, and walking in there was a particularly pungent smell that made me say “uh-oh.” Anyone who knows my eating habits knows I am not a big fish eater, although I have recently become more willing to try things. In this case, however, what was on offer was a big ugly fish, staring up at me from the plate. I took some white rice, ate a banana, and dealt with everyone in the room asking what was wrong with me. My inquisitor from the night before seemed to be making fun of me, or at least getting a good laugh, so I made a quick exit back to my monastic room.
This morning I walked over to St. Al’s with Stephanie, taking a short cut through the slum to the upper school, getting me to the library by 8:30 or so. The lights in my office were not working once again, but it’s just as well, as the library is more interesting, especially when you have nothing else to do. I brought a book, so mostly I read the book, but today I did not really speak to Kiambi or Jill except in a passing hello, had a few brief conversations with teachers and students between classes, and otherwise wondered what I should be doing.
Having mostly time to myself, I set about looking around the library to see just what they had. By my count, aside from a few shelves of textbooks and 4 sets of old encyclopedias, there are around 150 books in the library, and almost none of them have much use to the students of St. Al’s. The history shelf has mostly US history, with only one slender volume on Kenyan history that I could find. The literature section runs from Maeve Binchy to James Faulkner, but with no Kenyan authors and nothing in Swahili at all. There is decent philosophy section, but I don’t think many of these kids are reading Mill, Locke, and Kant in their spare time.
In short, it was clear the library is a collection of well-intentioned but largely impractical donations from the US. I have been asked to help out with the library, among other tasks, and I don’t really know where to begin. The check-out process is predictably haphazard, but at least there is a process, and given the size of the collection I don’t see any great value in creating a card catalog- everything they have is there in front of you. Jared, the student librarian, seems eager to have my help in organizing things, but the only thing I did was alphabetize the fiction by author’s last name. If only my Gramma were here to help- she would know what to do.
My other notable event of the day was with the student head of the journalism club, who asked if I could speak to their group today after class. Apparently my credentials of writing for a student newspaper and having friends in the business were suitably impressive to them. Imagine if they knew I had a blog too? I readily agreed to the meeting only to find out it was cancelled due to the other activities this afternoon, mostly sports, for which I had no idea where to go to participate and no one stepping forward to bring me along.
So today was a disappointment, but I think it mostly pointed out a need for me to become more assertive in this situation. If I try that and fail, then I can get discouraged, but right now I think I am relying too much on others for guidance. It should also be pointed out that school is not officially in session until next week, although all of the students and most the teachers are around. So perhaps the more regimented school week will improve things too.

Live from Nairobi

Nairobi, Kenya

Jambo. At least that's what they say to the tourists.

Just a quick note to say hello, I am alive, and things are good here. I arrived Monday morning at 6 am, was at my accomodations by 7 am, and in my room by 8 am, then spent the rest of the day unpacking, resting, and trying to wrap my head around why I am here, not really even sure where I was. The welcome was not very strong initially, so I was worried. By the end of the day I knew my bed was comfortable enough, the plumbing worked, the food was edible, and we were right off Ngong Rd., but little else.

Today, by lunchtime (7 hrs ahead of the east coast), things are much better. I have been warmly greeted by the school, met with administrators from Christian Life Community Kenya, and started to figure how I can help. Kibera is just as it had been described- undescribable. The school is based on the edge of the slum, so it is not hard to get there, but most of the classrooms are in another building, a two story shack with 6 classrooms with natual light. Getting there requires navigating a warren of alleys, shacks, and open sewers up a rocky hill, and I am almost sure to get lost the first time I try it alone.

I will write more and try to post it later in the week. Because of the limits of internet access here, I think the rest of the Ireland trip may have to wait, or at least be seriously condensed. Things are looking up though.

No. 5 at Rosses Point- 4 Drives in the fairway

Dublin, Ireland- Burlington Hotel

Whoah. Quite a week. Such a week that it has taken me forever to type everything up, so I will post just the first two days now and hope to write more on the flight to Kenya and try to post everything when I get there. I guess I need an editor. There are also a few pictures to see at http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLandingSignin.jsp?Uc=13h2keeb.4ya02y7b&Uy=-dot8ub&Upost_signin=Slideshow.jsp%3Fmode%3Dfromshare&Ux=0 Titanic and Perc took more than I did, so they should post links to their pictures in the comments once they are uploaded.

Nairobi is certain to be quite different from what I have just experienced, but it will be very difficult to top. The important information first: One won the Sligo Champion's Cup (convincingly), I only wore rain pants once (though I probably should have twice), the Ssangyong Rexton made it through the week with minimal bumps (though I still have to drive to the airport), large amounts of Guinness were consumed (shockingly), the next trip is already being planned (and a second foursome is more than welcome) and a brilliant time was had by all.

Now for a bit more detail, with a disclaimer: this will contain some description of our golf rounds, and nothing can be more boring than reading about 4 hackers' losing a bunch of golf balls. As such, descriptions of golf shall be italicized, so feel free to skip at your pleasure.

Day 1: Arrive Shannon 6:15 AM, Play Lahinch, stay in Doolin-

On this trip, I arrived at the conclusion that the flight from Boston-Shannon is not actually long enough. You always leave around 7 in the evening from the East Coast, and 5-6 hours later you touch down in Ireland at daybreak. When you take off, there is no way you can be tired enough to sleep right away, and as a result the most you can hope for is 2-3 hours of sleep on the plane, and the beginning of a new day when you arrive, which you must power through to get over the jet lag. It would be far better to have 2 more hours on the plane and get some real shuteye. As it is, Aer Lingus really needs to step into the modern era- every other international flight will typically give you a choice of programming on the screen in front of you, but the Lingus still only gives you one option overhead, and Shrek 3 was not what I was looking for. The flight was also packed full, surprisingly there are a few folks of Irish descent from the greater Boston area.

In any case, Titanic and I rolled off the flight, collected our bags, and sat down to wait for One and Perc from Chicago, due in at 7:30. The bar at the coffee shop in the waiting area was not yet open, so my first pint would have to wait. The midwestern lads arrived on time, but were slightly delayed coming out of the baggage area, as Perc needed to go through the Red Lane to declare his awesomeness. After another bit of foolishness, we found the van to take us to the car hire lot and were relieved to discover that all of our bags fit into the silver Rexton I had arranged for. We took up our assigned seats- One driving, me shotgun/navigator, Perc behind the driver's seat (right side, of course), and Titanic in prime fly-catching territory behind me- and we were on the way.

Our tee time at Lahinch was not until 2 pm, and it is only about an hour to the course from Shannon, so we had plenty of time. We got a bit lost due to some construction, but eventually found our way to the Cliffs of Moher on the Clare Coast, always a spectacular sight, but unfortunately now blighted by the tourism industry. I believe I have been to the Cliffs twice previously, but now there is a pay car park and a large visitor center. It used to be that you just drove up and walked out, but someone figured out that there are Euros to be made, so now it costs money to experience the natural beauty of these gorgeous cliffs. In fairness, the visitor center was nicely done, built into the hillside, but I liked it better before all the same.

From the cliffs, we drove down to our B & B in Doolin to drop our bags and change our clothes for the course, then headed back to Lahinch about 15 minutes up the road. The sun was out as we drove into the car park, but the wind was up as well, whipping in off the Atlantic at about 30 mph. The starter told us that while we think those are Force 5 winds, they think of them as no more than a sea breeze. Unfortunately, I knew he was right.

The first tee at Lahinch is one of the more intimidating experiences in golf. The hole itself is not too complicated, but it is a very popular course with loads of visitors, and you always have a gallery watching your shot. When the wind is up in your face and it is your first swing off a 6 hour plane trip and 2 hours sleep, you worry about embarrassing yourself. Luckily, I managed to keep my tee ball low and down the middle and everyone except Titanic found the fairway, so we were away. That was the last tee ball of the day I would keep low. By luck of the draw, One and I were teamed on the front nine, and got off to a brilliant start, as I managed to get up and down from a bunker with a 50 foot no-brainer putt to win the hole, and we proceeded to win the first 3 holes and run away with the nine hole match, based mostly on One's strong play. I was badly beaten by the wind and lost 7 or 8 balls, but enjoyed the gorgeous views nonetheless, including views of an enormous surf competition down on the beach which apparently set a record for most surfers on the same wave. On the back nine I was paired with Titanic and we stood no chance against One and Perc, so after day one the score was One 2, Me 1, Perc 1, Titanic 0.

That night we got back to Doolin a bit after 7, showered and went out to enjoy the town. Doolin is a tiny village, with only a couple hundred full time residents, but it is well known for the three pubs it has and the traditional music on offer at them. As luck would have it, our accomodations were about 100 yards from two of the pubs, so we went out and found some good pub grub at McDermott's (I had mussels, the others had duck), then moved over to McGann's back up the road for a few drinks. Early on it looked like the jet lag was about to overtake us, but once we wormed our way into the room with music and snagged a table from some departing Floridians, we were back in the game. Perc learned some Irish slang that nigh and we managed to get in with a few of the locals. Perc and Titanic were well situated to make new friends, while One and I managed to work on foreign relations with a Cork-man and his Aussie mate. The most impressive visitor to the pub that evening was a lad of about 3 years old who managed to outlast One, quite a feat considering he went home around 12:30. The rest of us made our way to another pub on the promise of latenight drinks, but were a bit disappointed to discover no one was serving at that hour. All were safely abed by 1 am, not bad for two hours sleep and a windy 18.

Day 2- Connemara, Westport

The full Irish breakfast provided by Maeve at the Churchfield B&B was lovely, with a fantastic hash brown patty replacing the usually untouched black pudding, so it was a nice start. The morning gave us one of the longest drives of the trip, up the Clare Coast, through the Burren, past Galway, and out west through the Connemara mountains. One was still getting his sea legs in the Rexton, and the passenger seat was a white knuckle ride past hedges backed by unseen stone walls, but he made it work and we arrived safely for an afternoon tee time at a packed Connemara Golf Club. We lunched first on the usual menu of toasted cheese sandwiches and soup, and I was quite relieved to discover the wind was down.

The front nine at Connemara is not particularly interesting, with mostly flat holes and a few distant views of the ocean. One and Titanic teamed to give Perc and I beating, but everyone played reasonably well. The conditions and the course should have led to some very low scores, but I was mostly pleased to be finishing every hole after Lahinch. The back nine goes up onto a cliff top and produces some more spectacular views, with a few very interesting holes. The course actually has 27 holes, and some of the third nine intermingle with the back nine of the championship course. Given how remote the course is and how few people live out that way, the third nine made little sense to me. It would seem more logical to just make the best 18 possible and due more to balance out the nines. That said, there are apparently some very wealthy holiday-makers in the area, based on a car park that included a Ferrari, a Bentley, and many Mercedes and BMWs. One continued his run of stellar play and I helped out a bit to win the back 9, closing it out on 17. Titanic salvaged something from the day with a huge drive on 18, followed by a three wood to green high and a great up and down from the swail on the right to make birdie and win an important skin. At the end of day 2, the competition stood at One 4, Me 2, Perc 1, Titanic 1.

After the round we drove to Westport and had a great evening out. We did not get into town until pretty late, but we found very good food at Sol Rio accompanied by some nice Cabernet Sauvignon expertly selected by Perc. After dinner we went across the street to Matt Molloy's, the pub owned by the Chieftain's floutist. There were a few young fellas in the back playing trad, but the more lively part of the pub was in the front, and there we sat with very nice couple- the guy from Dublin and his wife from England. Once again we succeeded in making good pub conversation, and when Molloy's closed we went over to Cosy Joe's, a surprisingly packed disco for a Sunday night. Who knows when it closed, but we gave it our best until after 2 and then were fortunate to find a cab to bring us back to the B & B on a rainy night.

This is taking forever, and I have a plane to catch, so I will update with more later.

Brilliant Beginnings

Sligo, Ireland

Just checking in from an internet cafe, this will be short. The trip has been terriffic so far. My golf has been a bit of a struggle, with high winds at Lahinch on Saturday and yesterday at Carne, but the courses are spectacular, the company is phenomenal, and the competition is spirited, if a bit One-sided. One is gaining confidence driving the winding, narrow roads from the wrong side, Perc is taking his medicine well, and Titanic is providing comic relief and late night whiskey, and I am enjoying the journey. I'll attempt a full recap of the trip once I have some more time, but for now I wanted to make sure this thing works from abroad and to thank everyone for their kind responses to my first post.

Slainte.

First a vacation, then an adventure

Welcome to the Blog. The main purpose of this site is to assure my mother that I am alive and well, but if anyone else wants to follow along for the ride they are more than welcome. Because different people have received more or less information about my trip, I will start out before I leave by giving a brief synopsis of what is going on here. For fun, I'll do it as a Q & A of questions I have gotten from various people.

Q. You're going where?

A. Actually, I am going to two very different places. The first is a place I know pretty well, and would ordinarily be more than enough of a trip for anyone- Ireland. I leave Friday, August 17 and get into Shannon Airport on Saturday morning.

I am flying over with my brother, Titanic, and will be meeting up with my college roommate One and our friend (I use the term losely) Perc, both of whom are lawyers in Chicago so desperate to get away from their jobs that they are willing to search for golf balls in the wind and the rain with two of the wildest, highest ball strikers I know (Titanic and me).

We will be playing golf for the first 6 days throughout the west and northwest of Ireland, staying in Doolin, Westport, Sligo, and Donegal and playing Lahinch, Connemara, Carne, Enniscrone, Sligo, and Narin & Portnoo before ending up in Dublin for two days of carousing in one of my favorite cities for doing just that. Then the other lads head back to the US and their jobs (Aer Lingus willing, for Titanic), and I head on to Nairobi, Kenya.

Yes, Nairobi, Kenya.

Q. What are you doing in Nairobi?

A. Writing a blog. Maybe checking out some elephants and giraffes. Hopefully drinking some Tusker beer. Almost certainly losing weight. Training to win the Boston Marathon? Trying to stay healthy. Meeting some very interesting people. Reading a lot of books. Shopping for clothes so that I can dress like Brooks Goddard. And doing whatever I can to help out at St. Aloysius Gonzaga, a college prep school for AIDS orphans in what appears to be one of the worst places on earth, the teeming slum of Kibera.

Q. How did you get hooked up with St. Al's?

A. The short answer is that I sent an email to Terry Charlton, SJ. The school has a close relationship with the Chicago Jesuit province and Fr. Charlton, the man most responsible for its existence, has established a connection with folks at Georgetown to do fundraising. I recall a few years ago receiving some kind of broadcast email about an event to support the school, and I read about its mission and I was impressed, though I never did anything more.

However, once I decided to leave Georgetown after law school, I also discovered that my future employers did not want me until early October, and the bar exam was in late July, leaving me plenty of time to do something interesting, and so I began to think of ways to spend that time (more on this below). For some reason St. Al's stuck in my head, so I Googled it and found an article written by a Georgetown grad and acquaintance named George Kearney. I contacted George, who put me in touch with Fr. Charlton, who then agreed to host me and allow me to do some work. All of that happened in December of 2006, and was confirmed when I met Terry on another visit to Georgetown in March.

Q. What will you be doing at the school?

A. Isn't that a good question? I guess I will have to keep you posted, but it is fairly open-ended right now. I am not going as a teacher, they have full time teachers and I am only there for 4 weeks. I am going as someone who wants to help in any way he can. I have been told I will have opportunity to help individual students with tutoring, and may be able to contribute something to classes in Civics, History, English, etc. Just so long as they don't ask me to teach Physics, I am willing to give it a shot. Of course I also plan on meeting as many people as I can and learning about them and about myself, taking pictures and writing it down so that I can be helpful to the school when I return to my lawyer gig.

Q. Where will you be staying?

A. Fr. Charlton has arranged for me to have a room at a boarding house run by the Association of the Sisterhood of Kenya at Tumaini Centre. I am told it is clean and safe, mostly religious live there, and they provide for breakfast and dinner daily. I am paying my own way there.

Q. What prompted this trip?

A. I suspect I will answer this question more fully as I go along, but for now I would say a few things combined. First, two of my brothers spent last fall halfway around the world, one backpacking through Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos, the other studying at the University of Auckland. I was very interested to hear of their travels and jealous of their experiences. I would have loved to visit, but just getting there and back would have taken the better part of 4 days total, not leaving much time to see anything if you only have a week or 10 days of vacation time. So I realized with all the time I had, I should try to go to a part of the world I was unlikely to visit otherwise.

Second, I have long espoused an interest in serving others, but I don't think I have done it very effectively. I justified it by saying I am too busy between a full time job and law school at night, which works at some level, but it was pretty weak. Now, with all this time, I really wanted to put my beliefs into action.

In truth, I have been inspired by my experience of reading thousands of college applications and seeing how many high school students are doing impressive service, including projects around the world. A cynic would say that many were only doing it to impress saps like me, and there is something to that as well, but I felt like I really needed to get into the action if 16 and 17 year olds could do it. If I am feeling introspective and also feeling like sharing it with all of you, I will try to expand on these ideas in future posts.

Q. How will you keep in touch?

A. Internet access is still a bit up in the air. I understand I will have some opportunity to use the facilities at CLC Kenya from time to time, and that Tumaini has some internet access on Saturdays, but I don't expect it to be too frequent. I will have a cell phone with a local Kenya number and I will send it to anyone who wants it via email, but I don't need to publish it here. I would love to hear from anyone and everyone, via email with the understanding that I won't respond individually very often, trying to keep it to the blog for efficiency. But anyone who wants to send me news (preferably not links, but actual stories) about people or events, and especially Red Sox and Patriots scores, will be much appreciated.

Q. Do you speak Swahili?

A. Hapana (No).

Q. When do you get back?

A. September 21 in Boston, and likely making a trip to DC as September 26-30 or so before I come back to move in to my new place in Boston and start work. Just in time for the Sox in the playoffs.

Q. What does the name of your blog mean?

A. Watch Flight of the Conchords on HBO. Or don't. I guess I won't be watching for a while, so don't spoil any of the jokes for me.

So I will update as soon as I can and as often as possible from Kenya, but until then, tutaonana (see you later).