Jetlag

It came out of nowhere. I thought I had somehow avoided it. "Aren't you tired?" people would ask. No, I'm fine, the transition was easy. Hah.

I should have known that waking up at 2 am and staring at the ceiling for 4 or 5 hours meant something was off. But it didn't feel weird the first day. I was too excited.

Then my alarm went off yesterday morning and I felt like I weighed 6000 lbs. I couldn't get up. There was no way. The fear of being late on my first real full day eventually got me up and in the shower and down to the office.

I shouldn't have bothered. There was nothing for me to do. I waited around for a meeting that was supposed to be at 11, reading a blurry paper about the immunology behind my new un-favorite tick borne disease. Check email. Read some. Wait for meeting. Check email. Write down a question. Wait more. Check blog. Oh no, I broke the computer, my blog is opening up in 40 windows. Restart computer. Note to self: no blogging in the office.

Around 12:30 I found out we were going to meet at 2 instead of 11. Did I look disappointed? I tried not to.

I went back to my room, took a short nap, and then my alarm went off again and I had to go back to the office. Hadn't I done this once already? Check email. Wait for meeting. It's after 2. Finally, time for the meeting. Yay. I get to talk to someone.

The meeting was good, I even got a small assignment out of it, but I still was not going to be able to start in the lab for two more days due to training logistics. I tried to stay down at the office as long as I could, since the chance of talking to someone was greater than 0% there. I didn't last long.

Back in the room I thought about all the things I could do: go for a walk, cook some food, read. I fell asleep.

Around 6 all the little kids started playing outside my room. It was the best signal I had heard all day to get out of bed. I went outside and found the Ithaca high school kids playing volleyball. For those of you who were on my ill fated freshman IM volleyball team (does anyone remember our name?), you know that it is not my best sport. In fact, I have made it a point to avoid volleyball since then. And I was wearing a full length skirt. But suddenly I was taking off my shoes and my watch and rolling up my skirt. My desire to interact with people in even the most embarrassing way was taking over. And it was really fun. They had stopped caring much about the game even before I got there, so my level of play was actually quite appropriate.

On my way back to my room I saw a man jogging with his black lab puppy from across the field. I thought about running after him but decided against it. Volleyball had somehow worked out and this was pushing my luck. I went inside to make dinner.

In my room I have a two burner electric stove/oven. It's called a Baby Belling. Only the small burner works. There are some pots, a handle-less warped frying pan, a huge dull knife that looks like it was used to cut rocks in the past, and a 2.5 foot wooden paddle. I'm not kidding. There is not other way to describe it. You could probably use it as a canoe paddle if you were in a pinch.

I made cabbage and grilled cheese and watched the Kenyan news. There was a shipment of maize that was contaminated with wheebles. I hate living alone.

It's amazing how destitute you can feel after just one day without the possibility of friends and family. My day really hadn't been that bad, but it hadn't been the exotic African adventure I was expecting either. Here at ILRI we are really isolated from the rest of Nairobi. Most of the people are from Europe so there is more than just one culture to navigate, and wouldn't it figure people don't wear signs saying where they are from so it is always a guessing game. And most of them are with their families. I had met people the night before but I couldn't remember where they lived and at this point I probably wasn't very much fun to be around anyway. Would I ever make friends? Would I ever see what Nairobi and the surrounding country is really like? Probably, but it sure didn't feel like it. I considered reading but my eyes started burning so I went to bed. It was 8 pm.

Today is a new day. Phil, my supervisor, had told me to take it easy so I slept in until the maid woke me up at 8:30 to clean the room. I tried to tell her the first day that it really wasn't necessary for her to come every day, but she seemed to think it was. The way she phrased it made it sound like she had to check on the room every day to make sure I hadn't destroyed anything. I fumbled around pretending to make breakfast while she made my bed and flushed my toilet for me. Finally she left, but not before thanking me. I wonder what she really thinks of me.

With low expectations I came down to the office, again for the purpose of increasing my chances of human interaction. And it worked! Phil introduced me to a South African girl, Cassandra, who is about my age and just got back to ILRI and is also living in the hostel! Praise the lord. I might actually make a friend. So I have been sitting here at my desk, pretending to be busy, but really just writing this. And now you understand why it is so long, if you even got this far. The South Korean kid who sits next to me gave me another banana today. He literally speaks no English. But he has some other South Korean friends who he hangs out with so don't feel bad for him. They bring him the bananas.

Oh, I have to stop. This is probably not healthy. Time to face the real world.