You’re welcome.

However, while I can extoll the virtues of chlorine bleach as a staple in my cleaning cabinet all day long, I find myself faced with what I think is a serious problem now that we’ve moved. Ever since we left Texas, I’ve complained repeatedly about the horrible water quality here in Florida. Orlando is bad, Tampa is bad, but NOTHING comes close to how bad our water is here in Fernandina Beach. I’ve known it since we moved up here; my clothes fade REALLY fast in the wash, my skin always smells faintly of chlorine after I shower or wash my hands, and I’ve even been known to give the dogs bottled water (I have YET to drink the tap water here; it scares me). Five minutes ago, though, the depth of the problem *literally* hit me right in the face. I realized that the toilet in the guest bath was running (as it is prone to do), so I opened the door to fix it. Oh. My. God. The overwhelming stench of chlorine from the running water has burned the inside of my nose. I have a headache from two seconds of exposure. That bathroom smells like it has been SOAKED in bleach, and it was caused by RUNNING WATER.

Roughly 9% of all rectal and bladder cancers are due directly to the long-term consumption of overly chlorinated water (source: July issue of the American Journal of Public Health). Chlorine has also been linked to artery damage (awesome, since I live with a cardiac patient), as well as digestive imbalance (chlorine kills protective acidophilus found in most drinking water). I don’t think there is a filter on the market that is capable of removing the chlorine from my water. I will definitely be looking into a shower filter, though, because chlorine is absorbed through the skin, which can lead to melanoma.

I’m not usually an alarmist, and when we lived in Texas I had no problem drinking the tap water, even without a filter. But there is NO way anybody can tell me that my water here is safe, and if they’d like to try, I’d love to extend the invitation to come on over and spend 5 minutes in my guest bathroom with the door closed and the water running. I’ll stick with my bottles of water, in the meantime, and I honestly don’t care that my carbon footprint is the size of Sasquatch because of it.

I’m beyond lucky. I have more blessings than there are stars in the sky. I have awesome dogs (even the beagle, who I couldn’t love any more if I tried), my husband has a great new job that he absolutely loves, we live in an incredible neighborhood in a great little house (and when we moved, everything arrived in one piece), and we live near a great beach. These things are more than I could have ever dreamed of, but they’re just the icing on the cake.

I have a husband who loves me, and who is healthy and happy 18 months after something terrifying. I love him beyond reason, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I have THE most amazing family on the planet, and I’m enjoying them more than I ever thought possible. I have a mother who loves me no matter what, a father who understands me and loves me anyway, a bonus mom (okay, a step-mom, but I like bonus mom better) who has always let me be myself, even when myself wasn’t very nice, a sister who I swear is an alien, because no teenager could possibly be as cool or composed as she is, and who I LOVE hanging out with.

This Thanksgiving, we decided to go to Guana with my family. Normally, I do Thanksgiving at my house. When we were in Texas, we had my Mom over. When we were in Orlando, Kevin’s family came to stay. I haven’t spent Thanksgiving with my Dad in 10 years. Sure, we’d see them around the holidays, but any kid who has divorced parents will tell you that it’s a juggling act to try and balance all of that, so something eventually gives. This year is a very rare treat for me, and I couldn’t be more thankful for the time I’ve gotten to spend here with them.

We’ve spent a little time exploring our new area, and the decision is unanimous: We could not have chosen a better place to live. The people are SO friendly, we’re very close to the beach, and there are a TON of cute little shops and restaurants. Kevin is loving his new job (even though he’s extremely busy). We’re just about all the way unpacked, although we do still have a few pictures to hang. All in all, things are moving right along, and we couldn’t be any happier with this new adventure!

Hey! Welcome to October! For the past eight years, that means one thing: BOOBIETHON! For the next seven days bloggers all over are helping to raise money for Komen, and you can help. Click here to donate. Did I forget to mention that there are also lots of pictures of ta-tas? Kevin and I are proud eight-year supporters of the Boobiethon, and we’re passionate about saving boobies. What are you waiting for? Go give Komen some $$$! Oh, and if you can’t give money, then you can at LEAST do one thing (even if it’s just sending a picture of your own rack).

We were starting to show a little wear, and we had a little over an hour before tea (I may have neglected to mention yet another wonderful part of our Kenyan routine: afternoon tea. Coffee in the morning, meals on a schedule, tea in the afternoon…..can we go back now?), so we headed back to our rooms to recuperate a bit before the next adventure. I have to confess: I REALLY needed a nap, so I laid down and was out in no time flat. Kevin took the opportunity to enjoy our patio, and he spent some time on his computer while the hyrax watched curiously from a distance. It’s a good thing he was working on it, too, since he was able to fully recover the photos he thought were lost forever (I don’t think I’ve mentioned this yet in our little story, but while we were in Buffalo Springs, the MacBook got a little bit hungry and decided to eat around 700 photos that he had taken, both in London and in Kenya, and we were sick about it). Hot on the heels of his technological success, he decided it was time to join the others for an evening horseback ride. In the interest of full disclosure, I feel compelled to say that I sat out this particular evening’s adventure and sundowners. I was simply too overwhelmed, and I opted to remain back in the room with my journal, my camera, and a verrrrrry long bath, so the rest of the story is being told through the eyes of others. Also? In hindsight I *almost* wish I would’ve gone along for the ride that night, but I was honestly in deep sensory overload.

The boys and Dana mounted up and headed out. At one point, the were mere feet from a family of giraffe; it seems that as long as you’re on horseback, the giraffe could care less and will wander right up to you. Kevin, unfortunately, had a rather…let’s say “sedate” horse, and when they wandered a little too close, he had to give his poor steed a little extra “oomph” to get him going. Katie wisely chose to follow along with Nic in the Rover, and everybody arrived safely at the sundowner site where a roaring fire was awaiting.

Andrew quickly manned the grill, complete with more steak and yummy sausages. Against all odds (and I have to say that I can’t prove that this really happened since I wasn’t there to witness it firsthand) Katharine actually tried a {{{gasp}}} sausage. This is a very big deal (and seriously? I know I said it already, but those sausages were the bomb!). More Tuskers were opened, I’m fairly certain that a decent quantity of wine was consumed, and stories were undoubtedly told. There were certainly plenty of smiles to go around.

By now, it was time to head back for some dinner. I had more than enough time to decompress in the super-cool crocodile bathtub, and after Kevin had a chance to wash the horse off of him, we headed back up to the main house for dinner. We ate inside on this night, and it was delicious, as always. After the meal, Dad, Dana, and Katie headed back to their rooms (I suspect they needed a little decompression, too), while Kevin and I joined Nic and Andrew in the living room for a little ginger tea (way yummy, and just what we needed at the end of such a full day). We looked at a few pictures, told a few more stories, saw a genet cat prowling around in the rafters on the porch outside, and then we hit the hay, too. It had truly been an overwhelming couple of days, and I mean that in the absolute best way possible.

As we made our way back toward the lodge, we asked if we could stop by Julia’s workshop, and thankfully the answer was “yes”. Fittingly, the workshops official name is the Sampiripiri Arts Workshop; sampiripiri means “butterfly” in Samburu. Julia has created an astonishing place for women to gather and learn the delicate craft of beading. Their creations are then sold through the Ol Malo Designs, and the women are paid for their work. (Side note: If you’d like the opportunity to buy some of the astonishingly beautiful beadwork that these women produce, click here. Julia answered all of our myriad questions with supreme patience, and she taught us a little bit about the significance of the necklaces worn by the women. For example: It’s possible to tell a woman’s marital status by seeing whether or not she has a long strand of beads hanging from her pierced ear. Also, much like the Mexican milagros, the women sometimes attach special talismans to represent specific prayers , such as a prayer for rain. The pure red strands represent the “boyfriend beads”, as these are given to women by their suitors. The women also tag each of their handicrafts with their name, so it was especially meaningful to buy the works of the women to whom we were introduced.

I would be remiss if I neglected to mention the spectacular shop; Ol Malo Designs had so much to offer that, unfortunately for Kevin, I just had to have. Some of my favorite things from the trip came from Ol Malo, from impressive beaded bowls (of course), right on down to a couple of extra kikois (because, hey, you just can’t have too many kikois). I was not alone, though; Dad came home with a couple of spears, Katharine bought a gorgeous beaded leather bracelet, and Dana commissioned a set of beaded necklaces that tell her life story, just like the ones worn by the Samburu women. It was right about this time that we noticed the rather large kudu wandering down the path. We were assured that he was a pet, and fittingly so: “Ol Malo” means “Place of greater kudu”.

High on our spending spree, and still full from breakfast, we persuaded Julia to take us over to see her school. Our curiosity was piqued when we drove past it the night before; we couldn’t wait to get yet another up close look at Samburu culture. We passed yet another elder on the drive over who informed us that they had just finished building a restroom for the new teachers (it was their first day on the job, and since it was almost lunchtime, they had apparently been “holding it” for a little while). Soon we pulled up to the little stone wall outside the school grounds. We were very fortunate to be able to meet a few more of the Samburu women who were hard at work putting new dung on the roofs of a few of the buildings; just beyond them was a circle of children (along with their new teachers as well as their Samburu ones) who were busy singing songs about nature. Hussein explained the importance of oral tradition: the songs are about the trees, the animals, and nature, and it’s how the culture is preserved. He told us that the songs that the children were singing were the same ones he learned as a boy.

Julia took us down for a closer look at the reservoir that had been constructed as part of her water project (side note: contrary to what Americans see on TV, the best way to help the water supply in Africa is not just to build a well. Thankfully, people like Julia recognize this and are working extraordinarily hard to provide sustainable solutions. For more detailed information, and if you’d like to help, please, please PLEASE visit the Ol Malo website, as they do a much better job at explaining it than I EVER could). She explained that the children are also in charge of tending the plants by the reservoir; as the plants grow and thrive, they become not only a potential food source but also a home for indigenous birds and insects. Everything is tied to both the Samburu people AND the environment, which makes it an exceptionally beneficial program. Back up by the school houses, we noticed some containers hanging from lines strung between the buildings. Julia explained that these were called “leaky tins”, and they are instrumental in preventing diseases like cholera and serious eye diseases such as trachoma. The leaky tins are ingeniously simple: clean containers (such as yogurt cartons) with small holes in the bottom that are filled with water (the holes are plugged with acacia thorns). As the need arises, hands can be washed simply by removing the thorn and letting the water flow. I’ll certainly never take my kitchen sink and foamy soap from Bath & Body Works for granted ever again. In case you haven’t figured it out, Julia is an extremely talented, intelligent, and BUSY woman! Again, if you’d like to learn more, please check out Ol Malo’s website.

After peeking into the classrooms (the kids were coloring!), it was time to pile back into the Rovers and head to the lodge for some lunch….and some shenanigans. As we were driving back we saw a couple of young girls gathering wood by the side of the road. Andrew urged us to snap a picture as it was something not usually seen, so we did.

It’s taking me forever to get this story told, and even then it’s still only in bits and pieces at a time. It’s hard, though, to sit down and write when, as soon as I do, I’m immediately taken back to these magical days. The whole of our time in Kenya defies description, but our stay at Ol Malo was truly something special. This day alone had served to remind us (well, me at least) of not only our human potential to accomplish great things, but also to appreciate the fabric that weaves our lives together, no matter how different we perceive ourselves to be. Jimmy Carter talked about humanity as “a beautiful mosaic”; Anne Frank said that “We all live with the objective of being happy; our lives are all different and yet the same”. I’m not sure there is anyplace on Earth that I could have learned that lesson other than Ol Malo, and I’ll be forever grateful for my time spent there.

Our wake-up call came promptly at 6:30 AM, blessedly accompanied by a large amount of coffee and some delicious shortbread biscuits (good thing we had those, too, since it was going to be a while before it was time for our Bush Breakfast). I know what you’re thinking: “Merrin, you’re not a big coffee drinker, and there’s NO WAY you got out of bed at 6:30 AM”. To that, I’d respond “Kenyan coffee changed my life, and I’m still nursing a pretty heavy craving for it, since it’s the ONLY thing that could possible get me out of bed at such an hour”. Fueled by caffeine, we met up with our group and headed out for a morning hike. We skittered (okay, slid) down a pretty rough incline into the valley below.

Hussein and Samwel were awesome as usual, taking lots of time to show us flora and fauna. We saw where a leopard had slept the night before…all cozy on a bed made of the fur of the dik dik he’d eaten for dinner. Speaking of dik diks, we also learned that they mark their territory by, um, pooping in one big heap, kind of like a dik dik outhouse. Thankfully, the poop piles were quite large and easy to avoid! They’re also monogamous, not to mention the cutest darn animals we saw. It was all we could do to keep from bringing one home with us.

We continued to make our way further out into the bush. When we stopped by a strange looking bush to ask a question, Hussein decided it was time to play a little joke on Kevin. We knew the bush was part of the acacia family (because honestly? Just about every tree we saw was some sort of an acacia), but this one had unique looking berry-like thingies on it. Hussein encouraged Kevin to touch the “berry”. As soon as he did, hundreds of ants started crawling out of it and began to fiercely protect their tree. It turns out that cocktail ants, have a symbiotic relationship with the Whistling Thorn acacia; the ants feed on the sap and take shelter in the swollen bases of the thorns. They also keep the trees “groomed” by clipping vines that threaten to strangle the trees. Needless to say, they weren’t happy to be disturbed when Kevin tried to pick the “berry”! In the picture you can see the ants’ backsides in the air, hence the name “cock-tail”. They don’t constantly wish it was five o’clock somewhere, like the rest of us do.

We walked on, and at some point we noticed that we were being followed…..by a large group of saddled camels. Katharine wisely asked “Why are we walking in front of what we’re supposed to be riding?”, which really seemed like an appropriate question. The terrain was a little rough, and we were at an altitude that is definitely out of our norm (hello???? I live in Florida. At sea level). It was cool, however, to see lots of leopard prints in the dust, and to be fair to the camels, they couldn’t have handled both us AND the terrain just yet; we needed to get to easier ground, so they walked on behind us for a little while longer.

Soon enough, however, it was time to mount our fair steeds (okay, okay, it was time to climb not-so-gracefully onto our beasts of burden, but it sounds better the other way). Kevin got the lead camel, which, let’s face it, makes all the difference, because if you’re not the lead camel, then the view never changes. Nic wisely chose to sit this one out and followed us on foot as our official videographer. I secretly suspect, however, that he was unwilling to lay himself at the mercy of a smelly animal that spits. Chicken.

Our camels did an excellent job of carrying us over the last of our journey. There’s something to be said for riding a camel; it’s completely unlike riding a horse, and it’s terribly awkward at first until you become familiar with the rhythm of their gait. Still, though, there were no mishaps, and we dismounted on a ridge with a spectacular view of the valley below. Hussein and Samwel once again took point and led us into a dry riverbed. They presented us with a “Bush Test”. They held up the skull of an animal and charged us with identifying it. I’m proud to say that I was the only one in our group to guess correctly (it was a camel skull, by the way), and after pointing out various other things (like a huge hunk of flint that I actually brought home with me), we arrived at the site of our breakfast.

Andrew had come through yet again, and there was a HUGE spread of food for us (and coffee!!!). We feasted on eggs, sausages, cereal, and fruit. The dogs, incidentally, were *thrilled* that the humans were willing to share the sausages. I feel compelled to mention that they had even set up a “bathroom” for us, since its construction was a topic of discussion. I believe Dana even has pictures!

We relaxed over breakfast, and it was a blessing that we didn’t have to walk all the way back to the lodge; we were waaaaay too comfortable after our long walk and delicious food. Instead, the Rover was waiting for us, and we loaded up and began the dusty drive back towards Ol Malo. Thoreau once said that “An early morning walk is a blessing for the whole day”. We had a lot more in store for us on this day, but I can assure you that by the time I closed my eyes that night, had a full and deep understanding of that sentiment. There were a still a wealth of experiences yet to be had, and we had barely begun to scratch the surface of the day.