Posts Tagged With: Kenya

A very memorable Valentine’s Day

On this sunny, snowy Valentine’s Day morning, I woke to a beautiful bouquet of roses from my love and we baked a chocolate heart shaped cake to enjoy for dinner. As we are still on a Covid-19 lockdown here in Ontario, it’s a quiet February 14th at home with no dinner out or movie to attend.

As I scroll through my Facebook Memories, I’m soon reminded of a Valentine’s Day that was anything but a quiet day at home. In fact, I’m not sure that any Valentine’s Day will ever top the one I had in 2008, while I was living in Kenya. A day that included singing, Valentine date requests and a slaughterhouse. Of all the travel stories I enjoy telling and re-telling, this is definitely one of my favourites!

A Kenyan Valentine’s Day. Enjoy!

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Eating fresh, juicy mango outside in temperatures that feel like 40°C remind me of days in Kenya, juicing huge bags of mangos (and eating as many as we could)at the house.

  While reminiscing about travel is fun, let’s all do our part to kill Covid-19 so I can get back to actually travelling…..

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Valentine’s Day in Kenya

Its now been 11 years since I celebrated Valentine’s Day in Kenya, but it’s certainly a day I will NEVER forget. Click here to read the full story!

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Kenya: How has a decade passed?


Ten years ago today, on my 24th birthday, I set out on my biggest adventure yet. I had recently graduated from theatre school and was looking for something completely different to do. I researched various travel companies, looked at backpacking options and read about volunteer trips before finally deciding to head to Kenya to volunteer in an orphanage. I couldn’t think of anything that would be further away from my current life and thought it would be an interesting and challenging way to kick off my 24th year on earth.

Heading in, I knew it would be an adventure. After touching down at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, making my way through customs and heading out to find my ride into the capital city, Nairobi, I knew immediately that my time here would be a completely life-changing experience.

I arrived in January 2008, while the country was still in the midst of the violence that erupted following the election on December 27, 2007. I had been following what was happening closely and speaking with members of the Global Volunteer Network (the organization I was going with) who were currently in Kenya to decide if I should be pulling out like some of the others had – and like I’m sure many of my friends and family hoped I would. But in the end, I decided I was still going. It was a clash of tribes and at this point, no foreigners had been harmed. I knew I’d have to watch where I was going and stay away from the growing number of rallies taking place, but overall I still really wanted to go. So on January 12th, after one final wave and “Happy Birthday” from my tearful mother, I boarded the plane and headed to Kenya to meet the handful of other volunteers who still elected to start that week. After a couple days of orientation, we were sent out to our placements. Some were working in schools, others at local hospitals, and some, like me, were based in various children’s homes. I was placed at the Manaseh Children’s Home just outside of Karen, Kenya with another volunteer who happened to be from Canada.


Manaseh Children’s Home

As we pulled through the gates, we were greeted by a number of the home’s 32 children screaming hello and waving. I was immediately pulled into hugs by the woman who ran the home and the kids, and although it was all very overwhelming, I knew coming had been the right choice.

Crystal's Kenya Adventures 1700

View from my window

We quickly settled into life at the children’s home, helping with meals and homework, figuring out what days the water was working to shower, playing outside and trying to infuse as much love as possible to these kids who so badly just wanted to be hugged. The children here ranged in age from 4-16 years old, and while some spoke more English and were able to communicate with us easier, we had no trouble communicating with laughs and smiles as we ran around outside or worked on homework questions.


Working on homework

Many of the kids here would finish their homework only to ask us to make them more questions. They so desperately wanted to learn and knew how important getting an education was to improving their life. I learned that primary school is free to attend, but you need to be able to afford the uniform, leather shoes, books and lunches, so school is still out of reach for many Kenyan children.  I asked why some of the children here weren’t in school and was told they didn’t have the money to cover all the fees. I had put on a show to fundraise before I left so I’d be able to help with things like this and soon all the kids were in school. We’d visit the classrooms the kids went to and lead them all in songs and games. Walking into a kindergarten classroom to find all the kids quietly drinking tea and waiting for their next lesson is something I’ll never forget.


Kindergarten Classroom

After purchasing some soccer balls, we’d spend many afternoons playing soccer games in the back field and hours sitting around cutting up mangos and passion fruit while the kids taught us Swahili words and laughed hysterically when we’d mess them up.  They would entertain themselves for hours playing with an old water bottle or an empty yogurt cup as real toys were few and far between here. Some days, I’d spend hours getting my hair braided and re-braided by the girls wanting to practice or teach the younger ones.


Getting my hair braided

We spent time in the kitchen learning how to make chapati, which were my favourite and a rare treat around the orphanage for special occasions.


Generally, our meals consisted of rice or ugali and whatever vegetables the owner could get for a discount (usually meaning they were close to being bad).  Meat was a rare treat and usually only happened when one of us went to visit a local butcher (for more on that experience check out my Kenyan Valentine’s Day post!) Most nights would end with everyone gathered around the living room after dinner and at least one child climbing into my lap and falling asleep.

While I was there, we’d also have weekly volunteer outings, where those of us placed nearby would go for dinner or a movie or visit a local attraction. We went camping in the Ngong Hills (careful to put all food away at night so we wouldn’t attract the local lions), and visited an animal orphanage where I got to pet a cheetah!


Petting a cheetah!

But my favourite outing of all was visiting the Giraffe Centre where you could pet, feed and kiss the giraffes!


We took a bus trip to Mombasa and Diani Beach, where we slept in tree houses, swam in the warm Indian Ocean and visited a local eco park.


A few of us also headed north to climb Mount Kenya, not quite reaching the summit as a nasty storm was coming in. Our guide told us he could get us up, but couldn’t guarantee he could get us back down. We decided the last couple thousand metres weren’t that important and headed back down, only to be stopped while a rogue elephant was chased away!


With everything going on in the country, my flight home was cancelled, allowing me to stay longer and experience more. We had a pizza party movie night, where most of the kids tried pizza for the first time (many didn’t like it). We also had cake and ice cream for Valentine’s Day, but most of them let the ice cream melt and then drank it as it was too cold.


I went to the boys’ boarding school for parent night and met their teachers, learned to make beaded jewellery, and helped fund an outdoor kitchen so that they’d be able to cook their meals even when it was raining. Imagine not being able to get your stove to start if it rained and trying to cook on an open fire indoors, creating thick smoke throughout the house. Things like that really opened my eyes.


For the most part, my time there was safe and uneventful, though one night a couple of weeks after arriving, we awoke to screaming coming from next door. Next thing I knew, it seemed like the whole village was up and running around outside. I sat crouched by the window, trying to see what was happening. The next morning, the owner explained that the house next door was broken into and the whole village heard the screams and went out to chase the thieves away.  At this point, most people didn’t bother calling the police. They just dealt with issues on their own. We were told that two got away. I never asked what happened to the third. We were also told they weren’t professional. When I asked what the difference was, he explained that if they were professional, they’d have guns, and we could all be dead. Very eye-opening.

It was also a surreal experience watching the news each night. The home had two channels, a local one and the BBC. We’d spend the evening watching horrific scenes of what was happening in the country we were currently living in. I always knew when a particularly bad day had occurred when I’d get a panicked phone call from my parents just making sure I was okay. I was careful about where I went and thankfully the feeling I had that I’d be okay when I decided to come followed me through my time here.

Before leaving, I went on safari to the Maasai Mara with another volunteer. What an incredible experience it was seeing all these animals up close and sleeping out in luxury tents under the African sky. (This was the only time I had a hot shower while I was in Kenya!)


When it was finally time to leave, my kids each packed a chapati for me to take home (customs had a laugh at that as I tearfully explained that I couldn’t leave them behind). After lots of hugs and tears, I finally got in my taxi to head back to the airport. Leaving them all behind was harder than I ever could have imagined it would be, and as I sat in Heathrow on my stopover wrapped up in my Kenyan Kikoy, eating my chapatti, I had to fight the urge to turn around and head right back to the children and experiences that had so greatly impacted my life.

Coming home, I had trouble adjusting back to life here. It took me quite awhile before I could go grocery shopping without crying over the fact that we have 25 kinds of chips, while they survived most days on rice.

My time in Kenya definitely showed me what was important in life – friends, family, experiences, love, and understanding for those who are different from you.

These kids had lost everything and yet were more loving and caring then most of us ever will be. They played with garbage and ate the same meal day in and day out and I never once heard anyone complain. They were always willing to help each other, and although there were fights (as there always are with large groups of kids), the disagreements never lasted long.


It’s hard to believe that ten years have passed since my first trip to Kenya. I still remember everything so vividly that at times it feels like I’ve only just returned. While I’ve had many other amazing travel and life experiences since then, I’m not sure I’ll ever have another that will turn out to be quite as life-changing as this one was.


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A Valentine’s Day I’ll NEVER forget

For many people, Valentine’s Day brings about thoughts of love and chocolate and memories of a special someone. For others, it’s a silly holiday that only reminds them that they’ve yet to find that “special someone.” But for me, each year on Valentine’s Day, my mind heads back to Kenya – to a day I think will be pretty hard to beat! tumblr_lzet7qNluV1qctrdd

Click here for Valentine’s day 2008!

Happy Valentine’s Day!!

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Kissing In Kenya

I recently entered a writing piece about a time I felt immersed in a place. This was a tough choice, as on most trips I try to learn as much about the place I’m in and the local culture as I can.  There was one time though, standing high on a platform, kissing giraffes in Kenya that I felt completely at home.


Here’s that story (If you like it, please click the “Thumbs Up” and help me win a trip!)

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A Kenyan Valentine’s Day Adventure

I’ve never been the kind of girl who makes a big deal out of Valentine’s Day, most years, it’s just another day. However, there is one Valentine’s Day that stands out more than most days. Valentine’s Day 2008, while I was living in Kenya volunteering in an orphanage is one crazy day I’ll never forget!


Joseph, the man who ran Manaseh children’s home, is definitely what you would call a character. On this particular morning, he burst into the kitchen saying “Crystal, will you accompany me on a short journey?” By this point I had learned that a ‘short’ outing with Joseph could mean anything from a couple of hours to a full day adventure.

After convincing the two other volunteers not to leave me alone, we set out through the village and made our way to Christine’s home for tea. This sweet, tiny woman became my Kenyan grandma while I was living there and I always enjoyed our lively conversations over tea or a meal.  However, today after greeting us, Christine disappeared outside.  After waiting in the sitting room for over half an hour we began to wonder what the hold up was just as Christine rushed back into the kitchen with a boiling pot of chai. She apologized for the wait, explaining that she was out of milk so before she could make the tea she had to send her son to milk the cow! This was definitely the freshest cup of tea I’ve ever had!  As we drank our chai, Christine asked if I was married. When I told her no, she told me I’d be welcome to get married at her house and she said she would be honoured to slaughter a goat to celebrate, maybe two if I married a Kenyan man!

Already 2 hours in to our ‘short journey’ Joseph decided it was time to move on and we walked another mile or so along a dirt trail to one of the local schools. After greeting the principal, we were then paraded through all the classrooms as the students silently stared at the Mzungus standing in front of them. After being introduced as a dancer, which anyone who was in my ballet class clearly knows I’m not, Joseph would announce that I was now going to perform a song for them.  This happened everywhere we went, so luckily by this point I had my Hippo song armed and ready to go.

‘Hip, Hip, Hip, Hippopotamus, Hip, Hip Hooray God made all of us, ‘Hip, Hip, Hip, Hippopotamus, Hip, Hip Hooray he made us.” By the time we made it through all six classrooms an hour later, we had a parade of kids following us singing the Hippo song and laughing hysterically.

Our next stop was lunch as Joseph steered us into the back of a butchery and ordered us each a big bowl of ugali and cow innards. Luckily lunch also came with an orange Fanta to wash the cornmeal paste and bones down with!

Back on the street, I realized the long red dress I chose to wear for Valentine’s Day might not have been the best choice for someone who already stood out like a sore thumb. However, it did provide entertain for the others as a number of men asked me to be their Valentines using a variety of tactics.

We made our way through the Dagoretti Slum until we came to the open-air slaughterhouse to pick up some meat for dinner.  The sign posted on the door read ‘If you are entering this yard in the morning wear your goggles and apron to avoid blood spatter.’  Great! Lucky for us by this point it was mid afternoon. Now I’ve never been in a slaughterhouse before and even if I had I’m not sure any of us were ready for what we saw as we pushed through that stained white gate.  At least half a dozen cows hung from the ceiling as their decapitated heads stared at us from the side. Each butcher was in charge of selling meat from his own cow, meaning chaos ensued as everyone fought to have us buy from their cow.  Joseph explained that to ‘order’ the meat all you had to do you was point to the part of the cow you wanted and the butcher would hack it off with a machete. Ok.  As we looked for a cow that appeared even slightly appetizing, the blood birds began to dive bomb the slaughterhouse drinking up the blood and making our decision much faster. “I’ll take that section please.”   As the butcher raised his machete to hack off the chunk of cow I’d pointed out, another man appeared beside me. “Excuse me miss, but as you know it is Valentine’s Day and I was wondering if you would be my Valentine?” he asked just as the butcher dropped the chunk of raw cow meat into my bare hands.


Eight hours after our short journey began we made it back to the orphanage to eat a feast of beef and stale pink Valentine cupcakes with the kids. With my hands still reeking of dead cow, this may not have been a very romantic day, but I’m not sure any other Valentine’s day will ever be quite as memorable!

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My Maasai Life

I just finished reading My Maasai Life by Robin Wiszowaty, feeling completely inspired. This book touched me and not only because I had been to the places she was talking about and could talk for hours of the incredible love and generosity of the people I lived with and met during my time volunteering there, but also because her story reminds me of why I went to Kenya in the first place – to experience a culture vastly different from my own, to learn as much as I could from the locals and to inspire change in myself and others. Like Robin, I felt restless and was searching for something new as I finished school, trying to figure out what to do next in my life.

On January 12th, 2008 (my 24th birthday), I boarded a plane to Kenya in search of something new – a change, inspiration, a chance to break free from the busy North American academic life I’d had up until this point. Not everyone was excited about this idea and many thought I was crazy, especially since in December the results of the recent election in Kenya had led to widespread violence in the country I dreamed of going to. That was all everyone at home saw on the news and as the date of my departure grew closer those around me became more anxious about whether or not I should be going. In the end, I caught that plane and it was one of the best decisions I ever made.

My time in Kenya was spent mainly in an orphanage outside Nairobi where I played “Mzungu mama” to over 30 of the most amazing children I have ever known.


In My Massai Life, Wiszowaty says, “Everybody has a unique role to play in making our world a better place, and there are many places where you can make a difference. My story shows that one can visit as more than just a tourist, observing from the outside.”

Did I make the world a better place by volunteering in a Kenyan orphanage for several months? Maybe not. But spending time with those kids, giving them all the love and hugs I could definitely changed me, and I hope it let them know that they are special and that someone does care.

We all have pictures in our minds of what Africa looks like. I know I did, but what I saw when I got off the plane at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport and drove into Nairobi wasn’t exactly what I had expected. I also wasn’t expecting the warmth and generosity I received from everyone I met. People who had so little themselves still invited us into their homes and cooked huge meals to honour us. Back home, most of us wouldn’t dream of inviting a complete stranger into our home, and yet this was a constant occurrence while I was there. By experiencing a culture completely different from my own, I learned a lot about the kind of person I want to be and the one I’m still working towards becoming.

In life, some people seek stability and routine, while others crave change and fight to break away from our everyday lives and experience something new and be inspired along the path of life.

“I hope my story shows that finding the direction your life might take isn’t necessarily about falling in love with any particular place. It’s about seeking those opportunities to find what truly defines, enlightens and inspires you. I invite you to seek your own path, wherever it might take you.” ~ Robin Wiszowaty, My Maasai Life.

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The African Bus Ride- Always an Adventure!

In the crisp early morning Nairobi air, we boarded a shuttle bus heading for Tanzania, paid our $35 and settled in for the long, bumpy ride. This journey was about 8 hours and included one bathroom break and the worst immigration experience of my life.We pulled up to the Kenya-Tanzania border and had to get off the bus to get an exit stamp in our passports on the Kenya side before walking through the wire gate into Tanzania and heading up to the the immigration office there.  Continue reading

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A warm Maasai welcome

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