Safari: a long overdue post

It has been several days since my last post. In those days I have done the following: traveled through the Masai Mara territory, was inches away from infected malarial cell, and tapped into the soul of the universe.

You always read about the people traveling around the Serengeti (I was surprised as to how phonetically correct the spelling of Serengeti is. Wouldn't you think its Sereghetti or something like that? I digress, as per usual) and being among the wild beasts of the African landscape. While this mostly correct, I could compare my experience on an African safari as an intensified, glorified trip to a zoo. It was incredible to be so close to hundreds of animals and drive among herds of elephants and packs of lions. But at the same time, the entire experience is from the safety/confines of a safari car. The roof-less vehicle gave me a chance to stand and take snapshots of wildebeasts and cheetahs and rhinoceroses -- but let's be serious, all I wanted to do what pet the lions. Or snuggle with the tired cheetah. Or play with the probably-pretty-aggressive elephant. Is that too much to ask? Regardless, I got some pretty neat pictures. Did you know that Simba means 'lion' in Swahili? and the Rafiki means 'friend'? I'm basically an African native now that I'm privy to all these insider facts. 

Note: Serengeti is the part of the wildlife preserve that is in Tanzania. The part of the preserve which is in Kenya is called Masai Mara.

Evolutionary and Darwinian theory really messed up with zebras. Honestly, what advantages come with having overly obvious and conspicuous stripes?

The giraffes were so awkward...

Well, who is that diva on the Tanzania and Kenya border? 

We were just driving along but we had to stop because there was a little somethin', somethin' crossing the road.

  
While we were riding around in our little cage of car, we passed by several villages filled with huts and Masai natives. They were clad in brightly colored clothes (essentially they were large clothes draped over tiny frames) and had exceedingly large gaping holes in their earlobes. The loose skin from the large earlobe holes (I don't know what else to call them) ((parenthetical commentary is apparently my best friend)) was then wrapped around their ears as a way of managing the sagging lobes. Each person, male and female, was decorated with beaded jewelry. It was really a fantastic sight to be among a completely foreign culture with virtually no similarities to me: they did not have electricity, couldn't speak a word of english, and lived in straw huts. I found myself sympathetic of their lifestyle, almost to the point of pity; however, within moments of my encounter with a native, I realized that my feelings of pity and sympathy were uncalled for.

I didn't have any type of extensive conversation with a Masai African but there was a magical moment that I experienced while I riding in the safari van. I was looking out of the window, examining and contemplating exactly as to how these straw huts were even structurally sound, and suddenly there were two children standing alongside the road. From their attire, I knew they were some of the residents of the village we were passing through. I made eye contact with a young male (or female... it's honestly quite difficult to tell the difference between the two sexes) and he smiled at me. Naturally, I smiled back and in that moment, that child and I shared a non-physical embrace. Despite the vast cultural differences, it took only a fleeting moment for me to establish a bond with this boy. He seemed happy where he was and I was happy where I was. We were happy together. We had both tapped into the soul of the universe. I read about this concept in the book The Alchemist; the soul of the universe is a rhythm that all of humanity dances to. Although humanity is immensely huge, there is a soul which runs through everyone and creates commonality -- similar to how a smile or a frown expresses the same emotion in every country. There is something unspoken that connects us all but is only realized at random moments. With this little boy, we shared a mutual understanding of humanity. Through our shared smile, we both drowned in the current that ran between us; but just as soon as the moment was realized, the moment was lost as the van drove away. I continued waving my hand until the child was out of sight.

Here are some of the girls and I working at the lab. I just examined some malaria cells under a microscope.
I'm getting quite tan.

We got 5 new Medics to Africa students and ~10 physician assistants working at the hospital. The combination of the few patients and the flux in helping hands has resulted in over-staffing. Consequently, I find myself only working for a few hours in the morning, giving me more time to do things like blogbloglbogogllbooglb.

I also want to clarify on my early statement about the healthcare system here being broken. I understand that there are limited resources and the doctors try to make do with what they have. But when a 7 year old patient is admitted the day before  with complaints of a cough and mysteriously dies over night because of lack of patient care, how is one supposed to react? The case was written off as "mysterious death" and "maybe typhoid related" and the file was simply thrown in a disgustingly disorganized closet of medical records. All of the American students had to turn their heads away from what easily could have been avoided.

I am already halfway done with my trip. I arrived on the 1st and leave on the 26th, making today the 13th the halfway mark. I think I'm going to miss Kenya.