Mumbai-Jamkhed-Rajasthan-Lucknow

In October, my ma and pa-in-law decided to come visit Chris and I in India for Christmas and New Years. We decided to plan a whirlwind trip through parts of Southern and Northern India to highlight some of the best that India has to offer. 

Our trip started in Mumbai. Chris and I arrived a few days early to visit a friend who lives there. On the first day, Chris caught me staring at an Indian girl in shorts and a spagetti strap tank top. He said, "Far, what are you looking at?" I didn't even realize I was staring! I soon discovered that I actually had not seen that much skin (she was not wearing anything slutty by any means!) since I was last in the US, four months earlier. In Lucknow, I barely see women in the streets and if so they are very rarely wearing jeans let alone shorts! 

Mumbai is hectic and awesome. We ate good food, went out, and met some great people. The city had crosswalks with walk symbols and taxis on demand. Women and girls were out at any time of the day or night with not a care in the world (quite unlikely in Northern India).  There were bars, clubs, and lounges. Our friend was quite surprised at the extent of our culture shock, I told him he'd have to come visit us in Lucknow to fully understand it. 

After our fun filled Mumbai weekend, we met our parents at the airport and began our journey into the heart of Maharastra. We visited old family friends of the Taylors who run a community health project in the district of Jamkhed.  Shoba and Ravi, the daughter and son of the Arole family who run Jamkhed hosted us most graciously! As it was a few days before Christmas, our rooms were decorated with colorful lights, trees, and streamers. We enjoyed  delicious meals, a tour of a local village (I was shocked as to how clean it was, my conceptions of an Indian village were totally incorrect), an unbelievable fireworks show on Christmas, sing-a-longs, and were able to participate or observe the workings of the community health project which was really an enlightening experience! Not to mention, Ravi called a snake charmer one evening and Chris got to play with a cobra! (I was too chicken.)

After leaving Jamkhed, we headed to Udaipur in the heart of Rajasthan. I immediately fell in love with the city. I had read that it is called the "most romantic city" in India and I totally agree. The city is built around beautiful lakes and the City Palace is absolutely stunning. We took a boat ride, explored pretty gardens, and ate scrumptious food. Udaipur is known for its miniature paintings so we scooped some of them up and then made our way to Johdpur, the blue city. 

In Johdpur we explored the magnificent Mehrangarh Fort (definitely recommend getting the audio tour) and went to what we thought was going to be an authentic Rajasthani dinner evening for New Years Eve but ended up being a "Jungle to Rainbow" (no matter how hard you think, there is no rhyme or reason for the theme) themed all you can eat buffet party which we promptly left after some Indian adolescents got a bit carried away with my pa-in-law on the dance floor. I wish we could've spent a bit more time in Johdpur and gotten lost in the streets of the old city where most of the homes are painted blue. Fun fact, some people believe the homes were painted blue because the indigo in the paint was a mosquito repellant. The next morning we left the blue city to head to the pink city and capital of Rajasthan, Jaipur. 

In Jaipur we explored the Hawa Mahal (Palace of the Winds), Jantar Mantar (A collection of ancient architectural, astronomical instruments), City Palace, and the Amber fort. We spent two fun filled days in Jaipur touring, shopping, and eating. Then we headed back home to the City of Princes, Lucknow. 

It was actually awesome showing my ma and pa in law where we lived and how we spent our days. Although it was absolutely frigid in Lucknow for the three days they were here we indulged them with our favorite sights and foods. I think Kulcha Nihari, the Indian equivalent of biscuits and gravy is now a family favorite! 

Overall,  we had a blast. I really got to know my in laws a lot better without the pressure of planning a wedding. I am a firm believer that if you really want to know someone, you must travel with him or her. I'm actually looking forward to the next trip the four of us can take! The beautiful sights and awesome hospitality we experienced through this trip, reminded me of the reasons why India is so incredible (Cue Incredible India commercial). India has so much to offer, it's breadth of history and culture is mind-boggling (or as Indians would say mind-blasting)!

Adventures in an Indian Hospital

Early Tuesday morning, January 8 at approximately 12:30am, I slipped and fell smacking my forehead, causing a laceration. It was dark so I didn't even realize I was bleeding until I felt wetness all over my face. I yelled for Chris and as he turned on the light, I saw the horror on his face. Thankfully, once we got the blood cleaned up, the cut didn't seem so intimidating. It was approximately 1/2cm deep and 1.5cm long. We figured that I likely needed stitches, so Chris did some research and decided that we should go to what was listed as the best (private) hospital in Lucknow. Chris quickly called the hospital and they informed us that they could provide transport; he explained that I have a small cut and all I needed was a small car....

Well, a fully equipped ambulance showed up! The attendant (equivalent to an EMT) asked who the patient was, despite the large gauze bandage smack in the middle of my forehead. I indicated that it was I. As I sat in the ambulance he presented me with a seat belt. I looked around me to find the buckle and then asked, "Where's the buckle?" The attendant responded, "No, no, just hold it in your hands." Ha! Safety first!

We arrived at the hospital and within 20 minutes I was examined and the doctor on call determined that I should see a plastic surgeon to minimize what could be a facial scar. We were told to come back at 9am. 

In true Indian fashion, everything ran late. When we arrived at the hospital at 9am, we were told that the doctors wouldn’t be in until 10:30 or 11:00am. Around 11, the doctor finally saw me and indicated that he wanted to do "a micro-something something" (medical jargon) reconstructive stitching which would require me to be admitted to the hospital. Once admitted, I was to wait until 3pm before they could do the procedure. (Why we couldn't just wait in a coffee shop until the surgery, I have no idea.) So I was given a bed in the general ward to wait....

In India, we were reminded, women (it's hard to generalize in India because it's very diverse country but women at times are) are invisible. While waiting, one of the physician's assistants looked right over my head. "What's her name?" he asked, pointing to me and directing his question at Chris in Hindi! Chris found the urge to reply a cheeky, "Ask her yourself!" but since we needed to stay on their good side he kept it to himself.  Ironically, I had just spoken to him a mere five minutes before! (I guess I lost my ability to speak for myself once they realized my husband was there.)

Just as I got to my bed in the General Ward, I heard a man to my right (behind a curtain) yell, "Just because she's dying doesn't mean the rest of have to, too!" and a female response through sobs, "How can you be so cruel?" Then a series of insults back and forth before two nurses came in to mediate what seemed to be an argument between a father and daughter while the wife/mother was lying in the bed. Needless to say, I wanted teleport myself to New Jersey to give my mom a hug! 

Shortly thereafter, the two nurses came to take my blood pressure and check my pulse. They had just seen Chris leave so the typical series of questioning ensued: "Who is that?" "How'd you two get married?" "Where are the kids?" "What are your qualifications?" "So, are you really American? Your Hindi is quite good!"  Um, are all these diagnostic questions?!

On my left hand side, there was an older lady who had several family members visiting. They also became very interested in me and Chris and a similar series of questioning took place. Shortly after our conversation ended, one of the family members slapped their little boy (about 4 years old) three times across the face for wanting sweets. I opened my mouth to say something. But when one of the other male family members saw the horrified expression on my face, he quickly took the boy out of the room. The nurse came in, saw the boys’ tear-stained face, and rattled off, "Oh, what mischief have you been into? You probably deserved that slapping!"  I did a double take. In the US, the nurse might have called child services for physical abuse, not taken the mom's side!

Chris had gone home to scoop up my laptop, thankfully upon his return, Downton Abbey and my Bose headphones kept me in my own little world. 

At 2:30pm, hospital transport came to pick me up to take me down to the Operation Theatre (OT) and the head nurse came in to have me sign consent forms. I looked down at the forms and noticed a lot of blank spaces where informative things like "Possible side effects" should have been listed. When I inquired, she said, "No need to bother with all that, just sign here and here." Two minutes later she came back and said, "I need your husband's consent too." I said "But why, I'm over 18 and I just signed for you." Her response, "We always need your husband or father's consent." 

After signing the consent forms, the hospital transport guys asked me why I was still in my own clothes. I responded by saying that I wasn't given any other clothes. So they call another attendant in, she looks at me and at them and says, "Where are your hospital clothes?" I told her that I wasn't given any. They both stared at each other and then back at me for another minute or so while I, for the third time, explained that I wasn't given any hospital clothes. Still, a pause. Finally, the one woman said, "Oh, so do you need me to get some for you?" I responded, "Well I don't know where you keep them!" I thought I would get a hospital gown...  but she handed me a Georgia peach silky-polyester-y skirt and matching T. 

So off to the OT I went. It was quite intimidating seeing that most of the people in the 'pre-op' room were about to undergo some major operation while I was merely getting a set of super-fancy stitches. I walk into the OT, where I was connected to a heart monitor and my forehead was prepped. (Why a heart monitor is necessary for stitches, I have no idea!)  Cell phones rang during surgery and the surgeons answered, "OK, yes, ok, well, wait, though. I'm in the OT let me call you back." Huh?!  Taping up my laceration after stitches, one attendant said to the other, "No! Tape straight across!" The other replied, "Why? I'm trying to make a cool design on her forehead." "Forget the design; tape it straight."

I forgot to mention, I hate hospitals. It's hard for me to see people in pain or see lots of blood and guts. I tend to get very sick and either throw up or pass out. I would have much rather this whole experience be as an outpatient. I have never been in admitted (knock on wood) to a hospital in the US so I'm not sure how this experience compares. 

After 2.5 hours, I come back up to my bed and Chris asked me, "What the hell happened, why were you down there so long?!" I had no idea I had been gone for 2.5 hours! Before I could be discharged, the nurse came in and told me that we need to go down to billing. As I started to get up she says, "No, no, not you. Him." (Pointing to Chris). Obviously. The husband deals with the money...  I am really having trouble getting used to this severely patriarchal society. 

Additional points of interest:

• All the nurses, doctors, and other hospital personnel wear flip-flops or sandals to work and many were in the OT barefoot! Cleanliness in India means not wearing shoes (such as in temples and mosques), when in the US, bare feet are typically considered gross!

• Bathrooms were shared between female and male wards.

• The waiting room included rows and rows of straw mats, no chairs.

• As I was wheeled back to my bed post surgery, no one gave me the right of way. I obviously just had a bandage on my forehead but I was pretty surprised that the Indian way of knocking elbows went all the way to a hospital elevator. 

• The doctors were awesome, super nice people. I trust I was in very good hands. 

Although I feel like a total idiot for this accident, it was quite an adventurous day! 18 hours after the incident, I was finally home in sweats with a five-pepper pizza from Dominos (only real non-Indian food in Lucknow is fast food). 

Hope to write about the excellent holiday I had with my ma and pa in-law in my next post! My love-hate relationship with India continues! Stay tuned... 

White People, they're just like US!

My husband, Chris, is a celebrity. I didn't know this before we got married, but since we moved to India it's becoming more and more apparent. He's likely one of the most popular people in Lucknow. People crowd around to meet him, 'accidentally' bump into him, snap his picture when he is and isn't looking, hand him their babies to hold, or simply just stare at him while he's doing what everyone else is doing: riding his bike, purchasing groceries, walking, eating, talking. One man at the bazaar, actually yelled to the patrons around us "Oh my GOD! Look, a white guy, buying kerosene lamps! Look Look!" (White People, they're just like US!) Naturally, a crowd formed around Chris and I. I now know how zoo animals must feel. 

Being South-Asian, I always knew that lighter skin is valued over tanner skin but I never fully understood the obsession until I moved here. The glorification of being white or light-skinned has actually really surprised me, particularly because I know plenty of lighter-skinned people who would kill for a permanent tan like most Indians. The look of complete shock and disgust on Indian faces when I tell them that people in the US actually spray themselves (including the current Republican candidate for President, Mitt Romney) to darken their skin, is priceless. The latest trend that I've seen here is not only to lighten your face or your hands but your vagina. I'm now seeing this obsession through the eyes of a (proudly) brown woman married to a white man. 

Many people Chris and I have met are surprised to learn that we are married. Some have immediately asked me "Were your parents there?"other have wanted proof of our marriage and so asked "If you're married, where are the kids?" When we explain that we've only been married a few months, they respond with "Oh, ok, so you must be trying?!" (Hello, nice to meet you. Yes, I'm ready to discuss my sex life with you.) The most interesting conversation I had was with a woman who simply could not understand why a white man would ever want to marry a "Desi-Larki" or  woman of South-Asian decent. She was convinced that I came from a lot of money or something else had to explain how Chris and I could possibly be married. 

Since arriving in Lucknow, I've needed to pick up face wash or a moisturizer a few times. At several stores, I discovered that it is extremely rare to find face wash or a moisturizer that doesn't contain bleaching elements.  So I tend to stand in the aisle reading over my options several times (the quantity and quality of products seems to change daily) to ensure I find one intended to moisturize and not lighten my skin. Three times now, while browsing, a salesclerk has asked if I need help, when I tell her (all three happen to have been female) what I am looking for, she points to Chris and asks who he is. I respond by telling her that he's my husband and in turn she says "ok!" and hands me a tube of "Fair and Lovely." I respectfully tell her that I need something without bleaching elements and she points to Chris and says "....but your husband is so white" (the implication being 'and so you should be too!') and each time I just walk away.  

I never really paid much attention to our racial differences because to be honest, they don't matter much to us. Chris and I both believe in equality for all, regardless of race, class, gender, religion, or sexual orientation. So outside of ensuring that our wedding respected both our racial, ethnic, and religious traditions, I have never really thought much about my race or the color of my skin in comparison to Chris' because there is no comparison. Unfortunately, that's not the case here. 

White, brown, purple, pink, orange, yellow, black, the color of your skin shouldn't matter, we are all just people. I wish more Indians, actually the world, felt the same way. It's only a matter of time before we all become a hybrid of one another, no one race should be considered superior over another. The world is mixing, as comedian Russell Peters explains, and there is nothing anything can do about it. 

The Apartment HUNT.

Chris and I arrived in Lucknow on June 15 and stayed at a guesthouse which was an upstairs apartment in a family home. We shared this apartment with two students who were in Lucknow for the summer to study Urdu. Although it was quite fun sharing an apartment with these two young, bright ladies, we were newly married and thought it was important to find a place to call our own. So we started our apartment (or "flat") hunt.

Before I begin, I should mention that there are three main modes of public transportation in Lucknow: a cycle rickshaw, an auto (or tuk tuk), and a tempo (bigger tuk tuk). The autos and tempos typically work like city buses so in the 115+ weather, Chris and I decided the cycle rickshaw would be the best way to get around since we could just rent it for the day. We would try and head out around 8am, but no one would really be around until 11am or so (the hottest point in the day), it took a lot of will power to head out at that time. We initially tried to look at places we found listed in the newspaper or on the internet.

Moving by cycle-rickshaw

Oh I almost forgot, in India (or at least Lucknow) when you get an apartment, it has nothing in it. When I say "nothing," I mean nothing, you need to furnish the whole place, from light switches to appliances and everything in between. Once this dawned on us, we determined that for basic necessities we would need at least $7000 USD. So we set out to find a fully furnished place....

The first place we saw was an apartment below the apartment of the landlord. They claimed it was "fully furnished." We walked into the apartment and were asked to sit down by the lady of the house. Below is how the conversation went:

Lady: How do you know each other?
Me: We're married.
Lady: How can that be?
Me: I'm sorry?
Lady: Are you Muslim?
Me: Yes.
Lady: and you're married?
Me: Yes, this is my husband.
Lady: Were your parents at the wedding?
Me: Of course.
<awkward silence>
Chris: So what's close to here? Are there any malls, grocery stores? Can we see the house?
Gentleman: Yes.
<no one moves>
Lady: When did you get married?
Me (to Chris): I think we should go.

We did eventually see the house, which looked like a torn up frat house with pink walls, open kitchen (no, not like what you would consider an 'open floorplan,' open as in there was no roof over it), bird droppings galore, and when Chris asked them if they could turn on the air conditioner or stove, the gentleman would bob his head from side to side without actually doing anything. It was partially furnished at best, but we actually didn't stick around long enough to do a full assessment.

The second apartment we saw, we actually didn't. That conversation went something like this:

Chris: So the apartment is fully furnished.
Property Manager: Yes, yes, it has everything.
Me: So it has a fridge, beds, stove, lights, fans, everything?
Property Manager: No, no, but we put a tube light in it!

After a few more incidences such as these, we decided we needed a different approach, we needed an agent. Chris is one of the most resourceful and adaptable people I know, thankfully I'm married to him. He called the Indian equivalent of '411' and got a list of agents in the area. Then, he called every single one of them and as soon as they heard his voice on the phone, they were on a mission to find us what we were looking for. Unfortunately, many of them showed us unfurnished places or places that were out in a "township." 

A township in Lucknow consists of "premium homes....where fine living comes alive in imperial grandeur." Most of these townships include swimming pools, gyms, medical facilities, walking paths, etc. We saw one about an hour and 30 minutes away from where Chris would need to conduct his research and quickly realized that we would be living in Lucknow without really living in Lucknow. Not to mention, the cost was about four times what we were hoping to spend and we would need to purchase a car.

So back at square one, Chris randomly receives a call from a guy whose house students from the American Institute of Indian Studies (AIIS, based in Lucknow) used to live in, he doesn't have any students coming through this year so was wondering if we would be interested in renting his "fully furnished" flat. We thank our lucky stars! Chris had been there before, the apartment was centrally located and had all the basic amenities we needed! Chris encouraged me to take a look too, after everything else we had seen, this seemed liked the perfect match. Four long weeks of sweat, tears, and many a rickshaw rides.... we had an apartment! 

The next challenge was making this apartment, a home for the next year +. Here are a few pictures of our place:

The brown sofas with gold and chocolate brown flowers, beautiful! 

The house is not perfect, it definitely needs a paint job, new cabinets, appliances, and non-brown furniture but since we won't be here forever, we're adding little things to make it our home: 

We hope you come visit! 

2012, The First Six Months...

I've decided to pick up blogging again. I've been encouraged to write about my latest adventures so here's another go at chronicling my life. Don't get too excited, I can't promise any inspiration. 

I left off with departing from Kenya in December of 2011, it's been a crazy 10 months since then. As soon as I arrived back on US soil, I was in a state of bliss consumed with family and friend time. Man, I missed these people. Christmas was awesome. I was engaged and now a legit family member. I got my very own stocking! Growing up Muslim, I hated Christmas because I loved it so much and we didn't celebrate it. When I got engaged, my mom said, "your life-long dream of celebrating Christmas is becoming a reality." It was true, the mulled cider, the presents, the cookies, the mistletoe, snow, and the tree, I got it now! Santa didn't just pass over my house! 

Following Christmas, we headed to Canaan Valley, WV where we had a joint (Jack & Jill)  bachelor and bachelorette party over New Years weekend. Most of our closest friends made the trek out to WV and the party that ensued was unforgettable. Definitely my best new years to date!

Shortly after New Years, I embarked on a wedding shopping trip to Karachi, Pakistan with my sister, grandmother, and mom. My sister was getting married four months after me, so we were doing this together. Chris and I decided to have a massive bridal party so I was shopping for 15 women, myself, and handful of family members. I don't like shopping. Most times when I head to the mall, I get itchy, my throat starts closing, and I typically leave the mall in tears because nothing fit or looked good and I wish I just had money for a personal shopper. So put me in a country where the security situation is uncertain, traffic is a nightmare, bargaining is a must, and when you ask for "something in a bright yellow," they bring you olive green because "I think this just looks better." Well, sir you haven't been planning every last detail around a jewel-toned wedding! When I said I want bright yellow, BRING ME BRIGHT YELLOW. As stressful as this was, I'm so glad my sister was with me, I think I would've jumped on the next plane home if she hadn't been there.  So between incidents of food poisoning, riots and curfews, sitting in traffic for hours, and overly excited shop keepers, after 10, 12 hour shopping days, we were done and determined to make our marriages work. We were never doing this again. Wedding shopping is not what the bridal magazines make it out to be, at least not in Pakistan. 

Actually, wedding planning in general might have been one of the most dreadful tasks I've completed to date. Don't get me wrong, I loved my wedding and the weekend surrounding it. It was actually a total fairytale, but the planning, I totally could've done without. I definitely have a new found appreciation for weddings. I am also glad I had a wedding because during the planning, I wasn't sure I would be. The speeches, the toasts, the hugs, the worlds colliding (my liberal progressive college friends chatting it up with my uber-conservative uncle) and the random acts of kindness from family and friends have left permanent indentations in my heart, and that was definitely the best part. 

So, I got married to my best friend! It's been about four months and people ask "how's married life?" and I answer, "it's like having a slumber party every night!" It's true, we might be 30 but inside we're really 12 year olds, totally stoked to play games and stay up late watching movies. 

Well, this might actually be because shortly after getting married we moved to Lucknow, India, where the nightlife is "provincial" rather than "cosmopolitan." In other words, a night out includes: a trip to McDonalds at the mall, eating a paneer burger under parking lot lamps swatting buzzing flies and mosquitos. 

This is all for today, hope someone reads this and is enticed to continue reading about our crazy yet not-so-exciting life in India. 

15 months ago...

15 months ago, I embarked on a new adventure. I picked up my life in Washington DC and decided to move to a country and a continent I had only read or watched movies about. When I first arrived, I thought I would blog monthly if not weekly during my time here in Nairobi, Kenya but life got in the way.

It’s been one hell of an adventure. I rafted the Nile; have grey hair; was stuck in a jam for four, yes, four hours of pure, mind-numbing traffic; climbed Kilimanjaro; splurged on safaris in Tsavo, Masai Mara, Nakuru, and Naivasha; spent weekends swimming along the shores of Zanzibar, Mombasa, Diani, Lamu, and Watamu; moved seven times; learned how to cook Thai and Vietnamese food; was asked if I was already married to determine whether or not I would make a good wife number two; got robbed; hiked volcanoes; raced a camel; have been mistaken for being Somali, Indian-Kenyan, Filipino, and ‘some interesting place on some island’; and am now engaged to marry by best friend.

I’ve traveled to Djibouti [insert high school “booty” joke here] and Somalia. Who would have ever thought, I would have those stamps in my passport?!

15 months ago, I always stopped to ask for directions; never looked over my shoulder at the ATM; was never mistaken for a muzungu [white person]; and never rolled up my window in a traffic jam. I never had a driver or a housekeeper, and I walked everywhere. I never carried money with me in case I had to pay a bribe.

These 15 months have included a lot of firsts and most if not all of them would have been impossible without a community of people that had my back. My new found friends from South Africa, Ecuador, Canada, Kenya, Malaysia, the United Kingdom, and the United States made the impossible, possible in Kenya. There is something truly amazing about making friends abroad, they share the same wanderlust as you do and you share experiences with them that can never been replicated. Nairobi is a very transient city [I thought DC was bad] so it’s difficult to reach a level of comfort [lets sit around in our PJs eat and watch bad movies on a Saturday afternoon, comfort] that makes you feel at home. I was so incredibly lucky to spend many a Saturday afternoons in my PJs and to share all my TIA [This is Africa] moments with fun loving, genuinely good people. I hope I cross paths with them again, sooner than later.

I am stronger, more resilient, less trusting of others but more trusting of myself. I had awesome adventures and made amazing friends, I couldn’t be more grateful for this experience. Life really does begin at the end of your comfort zone. I am looking forward to the next adventure, knowing for the first time, that I can handle it.

Before I head off to the next thing though…I cannot wait to spend some quality time with all the incredible people waiting to welcome me home! Chris, sidewalks, Thai take out, falafel, snow, pumpkin spice latte, customer service, pollution control, public transportation, family, dinner club, happy hour… oh how I’ve missed you so! 

All Aboard! Lunatic Express to Mombasa

Three of us (Botes, Shawn, and I) boarded an overnight train at the Nairobi Railway Station and headed to Mombasa. We sat in second class and had four beds in our compartment. This overnight train was insane... lots of mzungus (gringos) with too much alcohol and hectic music. The train itself was super old school and quite rickety. While Botes was waiting for me to get to the station he met Rob. Rob is from Cyprus and just started 10 month treck around the world, Kenya was his second stop. The four of us hit it off and had a pretty good time on the train. There was a rowdy bunch next to us who ended up causing drama on the train. It was pretty hard to sleep due to the drunkards as well as the shifting of the train. We had dinner and breakfast on the train and arrived in Mombasa around 9:30am. We found a taxi driver, Osman, to take us to Diani beach. By 10:30am we had put our stuff at STILTS, a tree house we were going to stay at and were on the white sand beach swimming and soaking up some rays. We lunched at a restaurant/bar called forty thieves and then went out on a glass bottom boat to snorkel around a sand bar. We saw some pretty awesome coral, fish, eel, and starfish. Spent a few hours playing in the sand on the bar and then headed back for showers and dinner. We were all pretty beat after our day so we crashed early and woke up to see the sunrise and then spent the morning into the early afternoon enjoying the last bit of the weekend. A two day tropical vacation was just what the doctor ordered after a rough week at work.... weekends like this one are going to be my motivation to push through work weeks.... this country is just beautiful!  Check facebook for a new album dedicated to the Kenyan coast! If it doesn't make you want to come visit I don't know what else will! 

Safe travels and fun adventures to Rob! Hope we meet up again soon... maybe in Cyprus?