I've been asked some questions about my travels, so I'll try and address them.

The food here is awesome. I'm eating more healthy then I do on Kauai. There's lots of local food around, and yesterday I had the first thing that I just couldn't handel: some fried meat thing. There's chapati, which is like a fried sweet tortilla; ugali, a grainy hunk of carbs like cream of wheat after a couple of hours, Devy can't get enough of it; masala, this style of seasoning which is just about the best thing I've ever had. I've had masala chips (fries), masala steak, burger, tea and I've been told that there's more out there.

The language is great to listen to. Lots of deep 'oh' sounds. Swahili is the national language of Kenya, and also spoken widely in Uganda, Tanzania and other parts of east Africa. The official language though, is English. Politics is mostly in English, school is taught in Enlish, most of church ceremonies/readings are in English. Sheng is a mix of the two, a slang language that is sometimes spoken among friends. Denis, the head of Nakuru JUMP, has been a huge help. Though everyone speaks English (because it was a former British colony), our accent is difficult for them to understand and they speak Swahili much better. He helps us communicate in situations as important as talking to airport security, or clarifying what our order was at lunch. A lot of the kids also speak their tribal language.

Which brings me to the political situation. Though I've been around a lot of the discussions about Kenya's political situation, I don't really have the brain for it. I'd recomend checking out Erik Talvi's blog for that. One of the more prevelant issues is tribalism. People of the same tribe will favor eachother for job positions, or for getting out of trouble and other things. Being of two different tribes can get in the way of friendships and even marriages. Some people of odd accents from learning their tribal language. Lots of things.

Stan, our guide for most of the trip, talked about a group of haoles that visited last year: one of them pointed a camera at a Mosk--a big no-no. He said that before they got to the next turn-off, the road had been blocked before and behind them. The Muslims were demanding to have the film and they wanted to burn the car. It took a while but Stan said that the final thing that saved them was that the bus driver was of the same tribe as the Muslims. Stan also has talked about his personal difficulty of growing up being half of two tribes. Technically you are of the tribe of your father, but Stan still wasn't fully accepted into either.

Though I can't reply to every comment, know that I read every one and appriciate them all!