<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660</id><updated>2012-02-16T23:03:28.548-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tracking Elephants</title><subtitle type='html'>A Blog From Zambia</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>30</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-1492110098393752340</id><published>2012-02-15T04:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-15T04:56:40.697-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Whitney And The Chief</title><content type='html'>On Saturday, or Friday, or whenever it was (news here in Zambia is slow in traveling) my favorite singer was taken from all of us on Earth... Whitney.&amp;nbsp; For those of you that don't know, I am a huge Whitney Houston fan.&amp;nbsp; I love all her hits, such as &lt;i&gt;How Will I Know&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;I Wanna Dance With Somebody&lt;/i&gt;.&amp;nbsp; I'm bummed to say the least, but the thing that worries me the most is that I feel somehow responsible.&amp;nbsp; In 2009, when I went to Kenya Michael Jackson died.&amp;nbsp; I come to Zambia one week ago and Whitney dies.&amp;nbsp; I plan on traveling to a lot of other countries while I'm here and I'm worried to find out what other celebs may meet their demise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BaQno6blfjw/Tzt_4Jx7LpI/AAAAAAAAAJU/uxtHGQmyIfM/s1600/whitney-houston.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="347" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BaQno6blfjw/Tzt_4Jx7LpI/AAAAAAAAAJU/uxtHGQmyIfM/s400/whitney-houston.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;I Miss Her More Than Words Can Describe&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;I just finished my site visit in Chipata, Zambia, and I really enjoyed it.&amp;nbsp; We took some tours of projects like what I'll be working on (forestry and agricultural) with a volunteer that is serving there, and I liked what I saw.&amp;nbsp; There is some really interesting work being done by the community, as well as the volunteer.&amp;nbsp; It made me really excited to get started on the training and then having a site of my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While on site visit and had a couple of firsts... fetching my own water, killing a chicken by slitting its throat with a knife that severely needed a good sharpening, washing my clothes by hand (I've done this before, but this time I was trying to get out blood from the chicken, not just dirt).&amp;nbsp; It was interesting to get out of my comfort zone and really live the way the rest of the world does - no lights, water, or packaged meat.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the most interesting thing that happened is that three separate villagers referred to me as "chief."&amp;nbsp; Both because of my continually growing beard and my sizable mid-section.&amp;nbsp; If only I wasn't a pale-faced mzungu (a white person) I could become a proper chief.&amp;nbsp; It is this type of experience that really reaffirms that I truly am back in Africa.&amp;nbsp; Well that and the cows and goats that are wondering all over the place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-1492110098393752340?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/1492110098393752340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2012/02/whitney-and-chief.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/1492110098393752340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/1492110098393752340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2012/02/whitney-and-chief.html' title='Whitney And The Chief'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BaQno6blfjw/Tzt_4Jx7LpI/AAAAAAAAAJU/uxtHGQmyIfM/s72-c/whitney-houston.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-1104326060233842206</id><published>2012-02-11T08:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-11T08:47:14.331-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Few Days In Zambia</title><content type='html'>Let me describe to you what Zambia has been like so far... muggy, muggy, a spinkle of rain, a dash of sun, and muggy again.&amp;nbsp; As soon as I got off the plane in Zambia I started to sweat.&amp;nbsp; The temperature here in Lusaka is about 85 or so for the last few days, but the humidity is what has been the toughest.&amp;nbsp; This may seem hard to understand how someone could say that it's tough when most of the people I know back in the Midwest weill be struggling with at least another month and half of cold winter, but it's all I can really talk about.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far we've just been sitting in a bunch of Peace Corps meetings and being told what is expected of us, what we expect of them, and so on and so forth.&amp;nbsp; I haven't had the opportunity to see much of the country except for a brief trip to the Peace Corps's country headquarters on the outskirts of Zambia, which included meeting the entire staff and the Country Director - Tom Kennedy.&amp;nbsp; Even that was very brief, but it will all change tomorrow when we head out on our first site visits.&amp;nbsp; This means that we go stay with a current volunteer to gain some sort of idea what the projects are like, living conditions, and overall feel of being a Peace Corps Volunteer.&amp;nbsp; It should be really exciting.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On being back in Africa I really couldn't be happier.&amp;nbsp; Out of the 35 of us that made the trip from Washington DC to Zambia a few days ago only two other people have ever been to Africa in the past, so it has been a lot of fun for me to see their reactions and excitement about coming here.&amp;nbsp; It brought back a lot of great memories of mine from when I first went to South Africa in 2008.&amp;nbsp; In fact, as soon as I stepped off the plane I smelled the diesels fumes, felt the mugginess, and I instantly remembered why I like this place so much.&amp;nbsp; An odd set of conditions to enjoy, but for whatever reason I do.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zambia itself is quite a bit different from both Kenya and South Africa, but it is similar in some ways to Uganda.&amp;nbsp; The tiny bit of countryside that I have seen is really green and lush like Uganda.&amp;nbsp; It is the rainy season right now (the reason for the mugginess) but I think that overall I'm really going to like being here, like I have enjoyed the other countries before.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in case any of you were wondering about Alan / Aaron... now all of the other Peace Corps Trainees call Aaron by the name I gave him, Alan.&amp;nbsp; He has fully embrassed it and I'm pretty sure that a couple of people don't even know what his real name is.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-1104326060233842206?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/1104326060233842206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2012/02/few-days-in-zambia.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/1104326060233842206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/1104326060233842206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2012/02/few-days-in-zambia.html' title='A Few Days In Zambia'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-1197836125321087490</id><published>2012-02-07T09:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-07T09:31:55.627-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving The Mitten</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Yesterday I left my favorite mitten of all, Michigan. &amp;nbsp;Leaving my home state proved to be more difficult than I thought. &amp;nbsp;I tried to keep a stiff upper lip and tried not to think about how long I would be gone or what I would miss while away or any of a number of other concerns that come with going abroad. &amp;nbsp;But it was difficult. 27 months is a long way to be away from your home. &amp;nbsp;That's over 800 days or just shy of 20,000 hours of being gone. &amp;nbsp;That's a long time time for sure. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EKxPXlu2Ee8/TzEz4ufTTyI/AAAAAAAAAJM/gGulCnjlh9A/s1600/pure-michiganjpg-820ef4ae528dc1b6_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EKxPXlu2Ee8/TzEz4ufTTyI/AAAAAAAAAJM/gGulCnjlh9A/s400/pure-michiganjpg-820ef4ae528dc1b6_large.jpg" width="371" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;One thing I'll really miss about Michigan are the early summer months. &amp;nbsp;Nearly perfect weather.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;With that being said I'm still very excited about this new adventure - it's my personal version of the space program or something. &amp;nbsp;Where everything I see and do will be completely new and, hopefully, exciting... or at least interesting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Last night when I got to my hotel here in Washington D.C. I was informed by the woman working the front desk that the Peace Corps had put another future volunteer in my room for these two nights. &amp;nbsp;I had my first new roommate and she told me his name was Alan. &amp;nbsp;So I went up to the room, dropped my bags off and he wasn't there. &amp;nbsp;No worries though, because I went out to eat with my good friend Jeff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;When I came home I walked in and there was Alan sitting in his bed, reading. &amp;nbsp;I said hi, introduced myself and we talked for a while. &amp;nbsp;I kept calling him Alan because that's what the women at the front desk said his name was, or so I thought. &amp;nbsp;After about 8 - 10 minutes Alan informed me that his name was not actually Alan and he didn't know why I was calling him this. &amp;nbsp;His name was Aaron and he would really appreciate it if I got his name correct (he didn't say this last part, but I'm sure he wished it). &amp;nbsp;I felt like an idiot. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;What a great way to start off my Peace Corps endeavor. &amp;nbsp;Today is the first day of registration and a bunch of other busy work here in D.C. &amp;nbsp;Worst of all, today is when I meet all the rest of my group's volunteers. &amp;nbsp;Usually I would be excited about this, but after the whole Alan incident I'm just not sure I can trust myself to get their names right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-1197836125321087490?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/1197836125321087490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2012/02/leaving-mitten.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/1197836125321087490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/1197836125321087490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2012/02/leaving-mitten.html' title='Leaving The Mitten'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EKxPXlu2Ee8/TzEz4ufTTyI/AAAAAAAAAJM/gGulCnjlh9A/s72-c/pure-michiganjpg-820ef4ae528dc1b6_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-714640704176392271</id><published>2012-02-04T23:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-05T10:58:11.199-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kim, Khloe, Kourtney, and Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;This blog will probably be the last time that I am ever directly linked with Kim, Khloe, and Kourtney Kardashian unless some Act of God places the the four of us on a desolate island, and if that happens I can only imagine the outcome.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;So maybe this blog is a bit far-reaching for me then, since the focus is on these three Armenian-American pits of public interest and myself. &amp;nbsp;Aside from the fact that Kourtney is the best, and most likely to make something of her life (no DUIs, lost videos of love making, etc.), these three little ladies are making something of an interest of mine. &amp;nbsp;That isn't saying much...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Since I came back to Michigan a couple of days before Christmas I have spent nearly the entire time eating and watching as much TV as humanly possible (minus 10 days when I was busy seeing friends in Washington DC and New York. &amp;nbsp;Even then all I did was eat). &amp;nbsp;Everything from the Kardashians to Maury to Teen Mom can be found on my viewing menu. &amp;nbsp;It's terrible and I'm not proud of it, but these are the little examples of Americana that I will miss a lot while I'm in Zambia. &amp;nbsp;Most people when they go abroad really miss certain foods - pizza, burgers, milkshakes and so on, but for me it will be these mindless shows that engross the viewer. &amp;nbsp;Sure I'll miss baseball, college football, and March Madness, but those are seasonal. &amp;nbsp;These bits of viewing delight are year-round commodities. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;I shouldn't be too distraught though... when I was in Kenya I heard about the death of Michael Jackson within a few short hours of his passing. &amp;nbsp;My dear friend Wambua, who I will blog about in length soon, passed the news on to me and the two of us were miles and miles from the nearest TV. &amp;nbsp;So, with that being said, maybe I shouldn't be too upset that I'll be missing out on pop culture. &amp;nbsp;It may just find me. &amp;nbsp;After all, the Wrath of the Kardashians is far reaching, the Maury Empire is all encompassing, and Teen Moms are all around. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fIxEFG2Z1vU/Ty4AysynVVI/AAAAAAAAAI8/mGiHFA1TzVo/s1600/IMG_1198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fIxEFG2Z1vU/Ty4AysynVVI/AAAAAAAAAI8/mGiHFA1TzVo/s400/IMG_1198.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;An Average Day Feeding My Addiction / Keeping Up With The Kardashians In The Basement&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-714640704176392271?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/714640704176392271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2012/02/kim-khloe-kourtney-and-me.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/714640704176392271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/714640704176392271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2012/02/kim-khloe-kourtney-and-me.html' title='Kim, Khloe, Kourtney, and Me'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fIxEFG2Z1vU/Ty4AysynVVI/AAAAAAAAAI8/mGiHFA1TzVo/s72-c/IMG_1198.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-8695370012421207838</id><published>2012-01-30T19:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-04T23:50:03.915-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Problem Solved</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Last November, while I was working for the Bureau of Land Management in Yuma, Arizona, I was driving through the Sonoran Desert with two co-workers, John Hall and Mike Pittman, and we discussed what my living situation in Zambia would be like. &amp;nbsp;We hit all the topics: food, electricity, showering, transportation, and, of course, the bathroom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;It was this latter issue that caused me to really consider what I was getting myself into and what possible, terrible experiences may arise. &amp;nbsp;(Don't read anymore if you can't handle real-world situations. &amp;nbsp;This post is about to elevate to Mike Rowe and Dirty Jobs status)...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Here is the worst situation that we could come up with, and truth be told it is very possible and even likely that it will happen to me. &amp;nbsp;It is that I get to Zambia and the food disagrees terribly with me. &amp;nbsp;I have already resided myself to knowing that this will happen. &amp;nbsp;Of course it will. &amp;nbsp;It happens every time I go abroad, but here is the kicker. &amp;nbsp;There isn't an American-style toilet anywhere to be found. &amp;nbsp;No American Standard. &amp;nbsp;No Kohler. &amp;nbsp;Nothing. &amp;nbsp;Instead... a pit with some artifacts of patrons past. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Now, if you haven't had the luxury to experience a pit toilet first hand you can create one at home relatively easily. &amp;nbsp;Put something wet on the toilet seat (this is to avoid sitting on the seat) and hover over it while humming BTO's&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;Taking Care of Business&lt;/i&gt;, while taking care of your business, and that's pretty much what you're dealing with. &amp;nbsp;But don't forget that aim is half the battle, leg strength is the other. &amp;nbsp;Add in a dash of traveler's diarrhea and you've got a real interesting memory. &amp;nbsp;Just remember you don't have the bowl of the toilet to catch what you put in motion (if you know what I mean). &amp;nbsp;The real issue here is exposed legs. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Luckily, I worked with some intrepid inventors and the three of us resolved this problem. &amp;nbsp;The solution: a squatting crate that will serve as the bowl and splash guard. &amp;nbsp;Gross, I know, but it is a necessary piece of equipment. &amp;nbsp;I thought that was it... problem solved. &amp;nbsp;But oh no! &amp;nbsp;My dear friend John and his fiance, Ashley, took it a step further and at my going away party gave me a gift that is worth its weight in gold. &amp;nbsp;A brand new, light-weight toilet seat for this crate. &amp;nbsp;I couldn't be happier. &amp;nbsp;It will be one of the few "luxury" items that I take with me to Zambia. &amp;nbsp;Again, thanks so much John and Ashley. &amp;nbsp;It'll be just like home.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UnGJ_Q_8B_4/TyczVvRESxI/AAAAAAAAAI0/tN3bnx_MwHQ/s1600/IMG_1084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UnGJ_Q_8B_4/TyczVvRESxI/AAAAAAAAAI0/tN3bnx_MwHQ/s400/IMG_1084.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;John Hall, Ashley Shepherd, and the Very Useful Toilet Seat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-8695370012421207838?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/8695370012421207838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2012/01/problem-solved.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/8695370012421207838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/8695370012421207838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2012/01/problem-solved.html' title='Problem Solved'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UnGJ_Q_8B_4/TyczVvRESxI/AAAAAAAAAI0/tN3bnx_MwHQ/s72-c/IMG_1084.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-355525859319480716</id><published>2012-01-19T22:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-04T23:50:27.743-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's All In A Title</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;When I went to Kenya a little over two years ago I just had a blog. &amp;nbsp;No title, pretty plain colors, and just some thoughts from me to whoever happened upon the blog. &amp;nbsp;There wasn't much to it. &amp;nbsp;But not now. &amp;nbsp;It is a new year and a new journey to the "Country of Africa" (you would be surprised at how many people think Africa is a country, not a continent made up of 56 sovereign nations).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;With that in mind I decided to spruce up the old blog, and I came up with a title that I liked quite a bit - "Tracking Elephants." &amp;nbsp;It isn't a metaphor. &amp;nbsp;It isn't even something that I'll probably do. &amp;nbsp;It just sounded cool to me and here's why:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;When I first went to Africa, in 2008, I was on a night safari when we drove up near some elephants, and our guide Mariana had the driver turn off the lights and kill the engine. &amp;nbsp;Usually this would be as scary as lighting up a cigarette in a meth lab, due to the fact that an elephant is a pretty large animal, and easily capable of crunching one Michigan State undergrad after another under its feet. &amp;nbsp;But, it was one of the coolest experiences of my life. &amp;nbsp;There we sat - watching some elephants eating their umpteenth meal of the day, with a clear night sky, a big bright moon lighting these pachyderms, and the Southern Cross looming overhead. &amp;nbsp;The elephants never even seemed to notice us. &amp;nbsp;They just ate and when they were done they rambled away. &amp;nbsp;That was it. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Maybe we could have followed, but that would have been asking for trouble. &amp;nbsp;It was just perfect. &amp;nbsp;It was this memory that I thought of when I came up with the title of "Tracking Elephants." &amp;nbsp;Maybe if I keep looking around I'll bump into some more elephants. &amp;nbsp;Though I am sure it wouldn't be the same. &amp;nbsp;But maybe...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0Sr5Ag2GfzE/Txjgq9OeaHI/AAAAAAAAAIs/VbNJhi46MyM/s1600/DSC02116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="165" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0Sr5Ag2GfzE/Txjgq9OeaHI/AAAAAAAAAIs/VbNJhi46MyM/s400/DSC02116.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Picture taken in 2008 near Kruger National Park, South Africa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-355525859319480716?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/355525859319480716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2012/01/its-all-in-title.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/355525859319480716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/355525859319480716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2012/01/its-all-in-title.html' title='It&apos;s All In A Title'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0Sr5Ag2GfzE/Txjgq9OeaHI/AAAAAAAAAIs/VbNJhi46MyM/s72-c/DSC02116.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-6237337302682621290</id><published>2012-01-18T22:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-04T23:50:41.658-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Veins Full of Africa</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;As my previous post from 2 and 1/2 years ago talks about (hard to believe it has been that long), Africa can sometimes get into people's blood. &amp;nbsp;Like Malaria, Ebola, and all those other wonderful ailments, Africa gets into some people's system and there it stays. &amp;nbsp;Sure enough, Raine was right, and I'm heading back to Africa. &amp;nbsp;This time to a little, landlocked country called Zambia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rPRiO0qm4MA/TxeLHNAFhdI/AAAAAAAAAIk/QYHUKDQFtJU/s1600/zambia_map_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rPRiO0qm4MA/TxeLHNAFhdI/AAAAAAAAAIk/QYHUKDQFtJU/s1600/zambia_map_2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Located in Southern Africa this little gem will be my "home" and work site for the next 27 months - beginning in February. &amp;nbsp;I was accepted into the Peace Corps in October 2011 year and now I am on my way to more Southern latitudes. &amp;nbsp;While in the Peace Corps I'll be working on different agroforestry projects. &amp;nbsp;Most of the focus will be working with a community to improve their food security, generate more income, and helping to conserve and improve biodiversity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;A bit about Zambia. &amp;nbsp;Located in Southern Africa, this country is landlocked and surrounded by seven nations (Namibia, Malawi, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Botswana, Tanzania, Mozambique, Zimbabwe and Angola). &amp;nbsp;The capital is a city called Lusaka, which is home to around 1.75 million people. &amp;nbsp;Broken up into nine provinces, the country is roughly the size of Texas, without the ego. &amp;nbsp;("Everything is bigger in Texas." &amp;nbsp;Nope, the brains are just smaller.) &amp;nbsp;Only joking. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Back to Zambia. &amp;nbsp;Once a British colony, called Northern Rhodesia, it is home to some really amazing sights, like Victoria Falls, the Zambezi River, and many world-class National Parks. &amp;nbsp;The country gained its independence from the British in 1964 and since then it has been on its own. &amp;nbsp;There are two main seasons in Zambia - rainy and dry. &amp;nbsp;The rainy season is from November to April, while the dry season is May to October, roughly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;As this is my first post and I don't want to run out of things to type about before I even leave I will call that good for now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-6237337302682621290?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/6237337302682621290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2012/01/veins-full-of-africa.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/6237337302682621290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/6237337302682621290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2012/01/veins-full-of-africa.html' title='Veins Full of Africa'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rPRiO0qm4MA/TxeLHNAFhdI/AAAAAAAAAIk/QYHUKDQFtJU/s72-c/zambia_map_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total><georss:featurename>38 Guest St, Battle Creek, MI 49017, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point>42.32764884364918 -85.17073631286621</georss:point><georss:box>42.32471384364918 -85.17567181286621 42.33058384364918 -85.16580081286621</georss:box></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-443069517191798281</id><published>2009-08-12T08:58:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T09:21:53.287-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Final Post: It's in your blood.</title><content type='html'>It's been three days since I came back from Kenya, and I got to thinking last night that I should do one final post.  I wanted to write a final post when I was still in Kenya, but my last few days there were pretty hectic and busy.  So here it is...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have had a lot of people ask me how I enjoyed my time in Kenya and if I would do it again.  The answer is absolutely.  I was in Kenya for three months and when I think about it now, it seems like I just got there a few weeks ago, but then when I think about all that I have seen and done, it seems like so long ago that I first landed and set off on my journey.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now that I have had some time to let it all sink in, the best way to really summarize my trip is by saying, I have had a very fortunate trip.  So very fortunate.  I've gotten to do some pretty amazing things like rafting the Nile, standing in the middle of the East African migration, touring a large percentage of Kenya, scuba diving in the Indian Ocean, and most importantly meeting and spending time with the Kenyan people.  These people made the trip for me, the other things were great, but without the people the trip would of surely lacked substance.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;People like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Keli&lt;/span&gt; (my driver and Swahili teacher), Dorothy (my Kenyan professor that taught me so much about the country and its people), &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Wambua&lt;/span&gt; (who showed me maybe some of the not so fine parts of Kenya), Kevin (who taught me all about the other stuff that people should know), and my favorite, Dr. Jim &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cavanaugh&lt;/span&gt; (who taught me about passion and its importance).  I'm even thankful for my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;MSU&lt;/span&gt; professor, Todd the Bod, who I didn't like at all.  He taught me I never want to be anything like him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a terrific trip.  Though it had some tough times and sometimes things didn't go the way I wanted them to, everything worked out for the absolute best in the end.  I'm sad to see it ending, but I am leaving after months of gaining valuable insight, knowledge, and having experienced a wonderful land and its people.  With all that in mind I will never forget my Kenyan summer, and I'm quite sure that I'll go back someday.  As Raine, the woman who was in charge of Acacia camp, where I ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner, said to me, "Jordan, you'll come back.  I know you will.  Africa gets into some people's blood and I can tell it's in yours.  You'll be back."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Take care for the last time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jordan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-443069517191798281?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/443069517191798281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-final-post-its-in-your-blood.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/443069517191798281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/443069517191798281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-final-post-its-in-your-blood.html' title='My Final Post: It&apos;s in your blood.'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-6599004970228149089</id><published>2009-08-05T12:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T12:24:15.855-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Rather Unfair Comparison</title><content type='html'>So lately I have been doing a lot of tree planting here on the ranch.  All my other projects have either been completed or they are being done by some other workers.  Instead, I've been enrolled in the Phil Tilley College for Tree Planting.  What this means is that the ranch manager, Phil, has me planting an unbelievable amount of trees all over the ranch.  So far, I've done maybe 200 or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, I was working along the fence line planting trees when the neighbor, named Joel, drove up to see what I was doing.  He is a missionary here in Kenya.  He asked what I was doing, I told him, then after chatting for a while he said, "I have a son here that looks to be about your age. This is his house."  He whipped around and indicated the house behind him.  I thought, "Okay.  That's nice."  Joel left just a few minutes later and I went back to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This all happened yesterday.  Today, I am working near the same area and I look over at the "son's house" and I see the son sitting out in the yard reading a book.  Playing around him are two young boys.  I stand there for a bit and think..."Wait, that guy is bald and old.  He's got two kids.  We look nothing similar."  Then I started to thinking about how haggard and old looking I must appear for someone to assume I'm not my age, 23, but rather in my early 30's or even older.  I'm positive that was his son, so I'm kind of confused as to what this man was saying to me.  In a sense I suppose I feel like it was a very unfair and invalid comparison.  Then on another hand, I think maybe I just look old and weathered.  I'm like an old grandpa now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jordan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-6599004970228149089?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/6599004970228149089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/08/rather-unfair-comparison.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/6599004970228149089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/6599004970228149089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/08/rather-unfair-comparison.html' title='A Rather Unfair Comparison'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-6614513870222005080</id><published>2009-08-02T12:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T12:50:13.113-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Charlie Hustle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SnXAyJIRKZI/AAAAAAAAAFI/lHDUuJL0le4/s1600-h/050412_peteRose_bcol.widec.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 220px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SnXAyJIRKZI/AAAAAAAAAFI/lHDUuJL0le4/s320/050412_peteRose_bcol.widec.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365406498758404498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SnXArU4668I/AAAAAAAAAFA/q_bRYQ8YD7w/s1600-h/pete-rose.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 277px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SnXArU4668I/AAAAAAAAAFA/q_bRYQ8YD7w/s320/pete-rose.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365406381656173506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For many years now I've suffered from a disease that I seldom speak of.  But when I do, I speak with some serious fire and passion.  I'm no expert on the disease, but I know the ailments to my condition as well as I know the palms of my hands.  I suffer from Roseitis, and it's heartbreaking.  Doctors have no idea how I came down with it.  I do - it's a mixture of intense love for the game of baseball, a hate of Bud Selig (the commissioner of the MLB), an undying hope that the Reds will one day return to greatness, and a desire to see baseball's injustices reversed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With this in mind, imagine how positive I felt about my sickness when my brother sent me an email the other day telling me that Pete Rose, Mr. Charlie Hustle, may be on the 2010 Hall of Fame ballet.  I felt the illness leave my pores instantly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea why, still to this day, Pete Rose is not in the Hall of Fame.  How can it be that the career hits leader is not in the Hall?  It's a travesty. A real enigma.  I'm not saying the man is a saint.  He's not even an alter boy, or a guy that sometimes goes to church on the holidays and then leaves early.  He is, however, one of the greatest baseball players to ever play the game, and him not being in the Hall of Fame...that's just a crime. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man played with all the heart, sweat, and talent that you could ever hope for from a professional athlete.  When I was younger I remember a coach of mine telling me that you should play ball like every game was your last.  I never did this, yet Pete Rose did (maybe that's why he was a professional and I was far from it).  He was and still is Charlie Hustle, the all-time career hits leader in Major League Baseball, and by him not being in the Hall of Fame it just gives baseball another black eye to go along with the nice shiner they received from the steroid era.  Good job Bud (Selig), you've done a terrific job trying to ruin a man and a game. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately, my sickness has a disease and it comes in the form of enshrinement in Cooperstown.  I now feel my ailment lessening day by day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jordan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really miss baseball.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-6614513870222005080?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/6614513870222005080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/08/charlie-hustle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/6614513870222005080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/6614513870222005080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/08/charlie-hustle.html' title='Charlie Hustle'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SnXAyJIRKZI/AAAAAAAAAFI/lHDUuJL0le4/s72-c/050412_peteRose_bcol.widec.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-4550413715362009433</id><published>2009-07-29T14:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T14:49:56.848-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Exodus</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SnCVvWVtNbI/AAAAAAAAAEw/P90rNFYFRDo/s1600-h/IMG_2809.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SnCVvWVtNbI/AAAAAAAAAEw/P90rNFYFRDo/s320/IMG_2809.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363951796881274290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SnCVvOtA2MI/AAAAAAAAAEo/cKG9IvQn8kA/s1600-h/IMG_2792.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SnCVvOtA2MI/AAAAAAAAAEo/cKG9IvQn8kA/s320/IMG_2792.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363951794831546562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SnCVulTU5HI/AAAAAAAAAEg/tkQsNKopn8g/s1600-h/IMG_2778.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SnCVulTU5HI/AAAAAAAAAEg/tkQsNKopn8g/s320/IMG_2778.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363951783717954674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Above are pictures from the wildebeest crossing I witnessed at the Mara River. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warning: this will be a very long post, but read it as it was an amazing experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got back this afternoon from visiting the Masai Mara.  I went back with one purpose and only one intent - to see the world's mightiest migration of animals.  It was the Great East African Migration, an exodus, where the animals move up from Tanzania, cross into Kenya, then cross the Mara River in search of better grazing pastures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The initial drive into the park was basically the same as the previous time I was there, plenty of lions, elephants, and gazelle.  It wasn't until we had driven something like two hours into the depths of the parks that I saw what I came for.  After rounding a bend in the road, I asked the guide, Wambua, where we were going, because it seemed like we were in the middle of no where and there had been no animals insight for a while.  He leaned back and said, "We're going there," then he pointed towards a far off black mass in the middle of the grassland.  To me it looked like a cluster of trees, but when I concentrated on it for a while I quickly realized that what I thought were a cluster of trees were moving.  These were the herds from Tanzania.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we drove closer I could clearly see the separate herds, all with their heads down, eating until they got their fill.  It's weird because I always thought the migration was one large group of animals, but really it's a bunch of herds that move together through the region, not together through the same specific area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every which way I looked I'd see herds and groups of animals.  Some numbered in the hundreds and many numbered well into the 1,000+ range.  I never thought I'd see this in my entire life.  Animals in every direction.  Valley after valley held thousands and tens of thousands of animals.  It's simply unbelieveable.  Each turn we drove around showed more animals, each hill we topped uncovered more animals, and when you thought there couldn't be any animals left, there are thousands more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The herds that make up the Great Migration are borken up into groupings, but when you get high up on a hill or ridge and look out over the valley, you realize it's one enormous herd that's blanketing the grassland.  It's like nothing else I've ever seen and completely unbelieveable.  My words hardily do it justice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing all these animals was great, but the real prize is to see a herd cross the Mara River.  So we headed to the river and on out way, very near to the river we saw a grouping that numbered close to one thousand.  We stopped, watched, then proceeded on our way to the river.  Along the way we saw more and more wildebeest.  More animals everywhere.  This was to be the herd I photographed above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to the river, crossed it, and went to the ranger station.  There we met a ranger named Joseph.  Joseph said that he thought they may cross that day.  I was hoping they would do so, and maybe five minutes later they started to.  They went to the right of the bridge, got half way down, but no sooner did they do this then a hippo came up out of the water and scared them all back.  Wildebeest, when it comes to a river crossing, are very scared and jumpy.  So, they went to the left side of the bridge and attempted to cross, and as my guide Wambua said, "The best part about wildebeest crossing the river is that they always go the worse way."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure enough, they went the worst possible way.  Joseph took me and my fellow travelers, 10 total of us, on foot to watch the crossing.  We hid behind a rock, so as to not alert and scare the animals before they crossed.  We sat there and just watched them fill the far shoreline.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching was great.  The wildebeest filled the shore and just stood there.  They looked around anxious, nervous, calculating, and very, very scared.  They kept cycling through.  Some would leave the shore, just to have their position filled by more.  I really didn't think they would go, then the greatest thing I've ever seen happened.  I watched one walk down and just jump in the river.  As soon as the first had gone, the crossing was on.  Within seconds, the rest followed and the river was filled with wildebeest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the first crossed and came out I was so thrilled because I was getting to see the migration.  However, I had no idea how badly we were positioned.  We were standing on foot right in their way, yet slightly above them on a rock.  Joseph, the ranger, yelled, "Quickly, get on the rocks!"  We all jumped up, and I looked backward to see all the rest of the wildebeest streaming by.  Once they came out of the river they ran left and right of us.  A few even tried coming up and over the rocks we were on, only to have their feet slip.  When their footing gave way they tumbled down again to the river shore, taking out other wildebeest as they went. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It lasted over ten minutes and it was the greatest thing I've ever seen.  Hundreds crossed at a time. They feared and struggled for their lives as they did so.  Here I was watching the whole thing, standing on a rock, just a few feet above the action with my friends, watching the greatest migration on planet Earth take place, and completely surrounded by terrified wildebeest.  I, honestly, can't even explain it.  All I can say was it was the greatest thing I've ever seen and been apart of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In total, something like 4,000 wildebeest crossed in front of us.  Unfortunately, none were eaten by crocodiles and none drowned, but it was still wild to see.  Joseph told us afterward that they hadn't seen a crossing in nearly two weeks, and that we were lucky to see one, especially on foot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I'm ever asked what the greatest thing I've ever see was, I won't say Great White sharks in South Africa, or the Redwood tree, I'll say, "The Great Exodus. The migration of East Africa."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jordan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-4550413715362009433?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/4550413715362009433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/07/exodus.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/4550413715362009433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/4550413715362009433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/07/exodus.html' title='Exodus'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SnCVvWVtNbI/AAAAAAAAAEw/P90rNFYFRDo/s72-c/IMG_2809.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-5814061939970389222</id><published>2009-07-19T03:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T04:18:11.943-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Me and Loocy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SmLT60Wg9_I/AAAAAAAAAEY/DKAoLmSMzNE/s1600-h/IMG_2593.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SmLT60Wg9_I/AAAAAAAAAEY/DKAoLmSMzNE/s320/IMG_2593.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360079513963263986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SmLT6fIHxHI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/lAB5Xx_Iz-I/s1600-h/IMG_2591.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SmLT6fIHxHI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/lAB5Xx_Iz-I/s320/IMG_2591.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360079508265747570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The top photo is of my cottage at the ranch.  The bottom photo is of the Range Rover, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Loocy&lt;/span&gt;, that I cruise around in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now down in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Athi&lt;/span&gt; River, just south of Nairobi, at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hopcraft&lt;/span&gt; Ranch.  After staying here for just a few days, I really regret ever even going to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Nakuru&lt;/span&gt;.  The ranch is so much better.  Let me list the ways:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I have my own cottage in the middle of an open grassland, and every morning when I wake up, like clockwork, I look out my window and see giraffes just walking by and browsing on the acacia trees.  It's amazing to witness and no matter how many time I see it, I never get tired of the view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, I have my own vehicle, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Loocy&lt;/span&gt;.  It belongs to Phil the ranch manager here.  It is an old Range Rover, which has been transformed from its original shell into an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;off-road&lt;/span&gt; beast of a machine.  It's not the fastest or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;sleekest&lt;/span&gt; car in the world, but it is amazingly smooth, powerful, and I'm quite sure I'll never get stuck somewhere while driving it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirdly, I have things to do here.  It's not like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Nakuru&lt;/span&gt; where the highlight of my day was going to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt; cafe for an hour then going to lunch.  At the ranch I actually have projects to work on.  Right now, I'm working on a water diversion system that takes dirty water, runs it through some pipes and trenches, then at the other end it comes out clean.  At least that's the plan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fourthly, at the ranch I don't have to worry about little street kids, that are high out of their minds from huffing glue, beg me for money.  It was always so sad in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Nakuru&lt;/span&gt; to see the kids that were in that position, yet so many of them had chances to go to school.  Instead, they ran away to the streets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the people at the ranch are so great and kind.  I'm always welcome &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;where ever&lt;/span&gt; they are.  In fact, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday we all sit down and watch this Spanish soap opera called Storm in Paradise.  It's dubbed over in English and completely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;ridiculous&lt;/span&gt;.  I love sitting there with 8 or 9 Kenyans watching a show that's dubbed over so poorly.  It's so funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with that being said, I will spend the last three weeks of my time in Kenya with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Loocy&lt;/span&gt; and the African wild.  Me and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Loocy&lt;/span&gt; cruising across the savanna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jordan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-5814061939970389222?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/5814061939970389222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/07/me-and-loocy.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/5814061939970389222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/5814061939970389222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/07/me-and-loocy.html' title='Me and Loocy'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SmLT60Wg9_I/AAAAAAAAAEY/DKAoLmSMzNE/s72-c/IMG_2593.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-3546558874704197098</id><published>2009-07-14T03:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T03:37:16.886-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Unknown Names</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/Slw1A9zI-RI/AAAAAAAAADw/6zREGtJHySc/s1600-h/IMG_2566.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/Slw1A9zI-RI/AAAAAAAAADw/6zREGtJHySc/s320/IMG_2566.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358215947369380114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/Slwy-p7HB7I/AAAAAAAAADY/9DoGIOSpmQY/s1600-h/IMG_2567.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/Slwy-p7HB7I/AAAAAAAAADY/9DoGIOSpmQY/s320/IMG_2567.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358213708651104178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above picture is of the wall that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;commemorates&lt;/span&gt; all the victims of the 1998 attack on US embassy in Nairobi.  The bottom picture is of the inscription in the center of the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been down in Nairobi the last couple of days.  I went down there just to see the city and because I didn't have much to do in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Nakuru&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  While down in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Nairob&lt;/span&gt;,i I went on a walk through the town center with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Wambua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, he's my guide/Kenyan friend.  While walking, we turned the corner and to the right was a very tall iron fence that was covered with vegetation.  He turned around and said, "Do you want to go in?"  I didn't know what it was and he realized this from the puzzled look on my face.  He then said, "It's where the American embassy stood before it was destroyed in 1998."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There in the middle of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;downtown&lt;/span&gt; Nairobi, hidden behind an overgrown fence is the site of the August 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, 1998 attack on the US &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;embassy&lt;/span&gt;.  More than 200 people had died there when terrorists drove a car bomb down into the below ground parking structure and detonated the charge, which killed so many.  Inside the gates, there is a sculpture that was created from material that was found after the blast - wheels of an office chair, the fan of an air duct, and other easily &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;recognizable&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; objects.  Then to the right of that is a huge wall with all the names of that fateful day's victims inscribed on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know much of the history of this attack, as I was only twelve when it happened, so I don't know the background of why the attack was carried out or what the purpose of it was suppose to be on an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;international&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; scale, but obviously it was aimed at the US government.  The saddest thing about this terrible crime was that nearly all the names on that wall were those of Kenyans.  So maybe the attack was carried out against the US, but those that paid the ultimate price were Kenyan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I stood there looking over the 200+ names, a young boy and his father walked up to the wall.  The father, with the boy in hand, went straight for the first column on the left and pointed to the second name from the top.  He leaned down, picked the boy up, and while pointing at the name he whispered something in the boy's ear.  I have no idea what he said, but from what I saw I feel very sure that the name was some relation to the young child.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Unfortunately&lt;/span&gt;, the attack was nearly eleven years ago and the boy could not of been older than ten.  The name, to him, was unknown and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;unrecognizable&lt;/span&gt; - just a grouping of etched letters in a wall in downtown Nairobi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's tragic to think how quickly life can be robbed from a person, and though it happens all the time, seeing a reminder like this is acts like a wake up call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My next post won't be this sad, but I wanted to share this experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jordan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-3546558874704197098?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/3546558874704197098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/07/unknown-names.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/3546558874704197098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/3546558874704197098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/07/unknown-names.html' title='Unknown Names'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/Slw1A9zI-RI/AAAAAAAAADw/6zREGtJHySc/s72-c/IMG_2566.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-5531195985211079388</id><published>2009-07-09T04:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T04:52:15.641-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Born on the 4th of July</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SlWt69cHx2I/AAAAAAAAADQ/veuo_f0o7cY/s1600-h/IMG_2527.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SlWt69cHx2I/AAAAAAAAADQ/veuo_f0o7cY/s320/IMG_2527.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356378560263604066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SlWsuSH0JEI/AAAAAAAAADA/Fa-RrPDvFls/s1600-h/IMG_2496.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SlWsuSH0JEI/AAAAAAAAADA/Fa-RrPDvFls/s320/IMG_2496.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356377242965648450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The top picture is me with my host family, Momma and Papa Kena.  The bottom picture is of our hotel on the Nile, The Sunset Hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As promised I wanted to write a special post about our rafting trip down the mighty White Nile River.  We rafted the river on the 4th of July.  It was nearly the most ideal way to spend America's Independence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could describe the experience with one sentence it would be, "A rush."  Nothing makes you feel more alive and in the moment than rafting down a torrent of water, looking up, seeing a ten foot tall wall of water coming at you, slamming into that wall of water, being tossed around like a rag doll, and living to tell about it.  It is over in just a matter of seconds, but after your boat has capsized and everyone has been dispersed into the water, you get this brief thought, just a fleeting moment really, when you think "maybe this wasn't a smart choice."  It is an enormous rush, and when you pop up out of the water and look around realizing that you won't drown because of this rapid you feel oh so alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in a sense, every time our boat flipped over and we breached the surface again, it was like being born on the 4th of July.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To capitalize on the whole 4th of July motif, a few things happened that made me feel right back in America.  1)  While rafting we looked up and saw an eagle soaring over us.  It was an African fish eagle, which looks very much like a bald eagle back in the states.  2) After rafting we ate a gigantic BBQ with grilled chicken, corn, potatoes, and some other tasty treats that would often be found back home.  3) In the truest sense of the American spirit, we explored that river and in the end conquered it.  It was man v. nature at its best.   We looked Mother Nature in the face and kicked her right in the vagina.  Haha. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that is all I can really say about rafting.  It was an experience that I'm sure I won't forget anytime soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jordan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, the shirt I'm wearing in the above picture is a bit ridiculous, but it's so comfortable that I'll probably wear it all the time when I get home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-5531195985211079388?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/5531195985211079388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/07/born-on-4th-of-july.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/5531195985211079388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/5531195985211079388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/07/born-on-4th-of-july.html' title='Born on the 4th of July'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SlWt69cHx2I/AAAAAAAAADQ/veuo_f0o7cY/s72-c/IMG_2527.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-5567339961125815828</id><published>2009-07-06T08:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T09:29:02.853-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Africa's Aorta</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SlH7VnDuy0I/AAAAAAAAAC4/Y5e7Mm4PDnI/s1600-h/IMG_2494.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SlH7VnDuy0I/AAAAAAAAAC4/Y5e7Mm4PDnI/s320/IMG_2494.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355337780600687426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SlHyYwh6JGI/AAAAAAAAACw/RJLhoH1KGt0/s1600-h/IMG_2374.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SlHyYwh6JGI/AAAAAAAAACw/RJLhoH1KGt0/s320/IMG_2374.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355327939078136930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SlHxFAlQh6I/AAAAAAAAACo/0G_5Yez8Erk/s1600-h/IMG_2481.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SlHxFAlQh6I/AAAAAAAAACo/0G_5Yez8Erk/s320/IMG_2481.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355326500278142882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The top photo is of Gandhi's shrine near the River Nile.  The middle photo is of the River Nile taken from my hotel room, right as the sun was setting.  The bottom picture is of me eating a fried &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tilapia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; on the bank of the Nile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, about 10 PM, I returned from Uganda.  I spent four amazing days there.  We traveled only to the city of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Jinja&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, and it was well worth the eight hours that we spent in the van to get there.  In &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Jinja&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, the biggest attraction is the Nile River.  The source of the Nile River is located in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;there&lt;/span&gt;.  It flows north out of Lake Victoria and ends 4,000 plus miles away in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Mediterranean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Sea.  It is the world's longest river, but what struck me as so amazing is that this is the same river that the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Pharaohs&lt;/span&gt; of Ancient Egypt quenched their thirst with every day.  So to see this river was amazing and hardily believable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Friday&lt;/span&gt; we went on a boat trip to the "Source of the Nile."  There we saw where the water goes from being Lake Victoria to the Nile.  We also saw and climbed atop the point where they measure the flow of water from the beginning of the Nile to the end of the river in Egypt.  It takes roughly three months for the water to flow the entire length of the river.  Near the Source of the Nile, we ate food, then went to a shrine that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;commemorates&lt;/span&gt; the spreading of Mahatma Gandhi's ashes.  Apparently, when he died he was cremated and his ashes were sent to different locations all over the world - the Nile River was one of these locations.  There I also saw the "Tree of Life."  It is a lone tree located in the middle of the Nile on top of a small island.  They call it the tree of life because they say the Nile supports much of Africa's life.  In a sense it is the Aorta of Africa, always pumping life through this continent.  After taking the tour of the Nile, some of the other volunteers and I went to the Nile View Casino in downtown &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Jinja&lt;/span&gt;.  There I lost a bit of money, but also had a blast and with the exchange rate in Uganda being $1 = over 2000 Ugandan Shillings, I didn't lose much at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, which was the 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of July, I went white-water rafting down the Nile River.  My next post will be solely dedicated to this feat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My last day in Uganda I spent packing and preparing to come back here to Kenya.  Before I left, I spent the morning swimming in the Nile River, with fisherman watching me.  I'm sure they were thinking, "What is this white guy doing?  This river is gross."  However, it was not that terrible and I now can say I've swam in the world's largest river.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a great trip to Uganda and I'm sad that I only got to spend four days there.  I would have loved to of spent more.  It is a very beautiful country.  The vegetation is lush and the landscape looks more like S. American than Africa.  Here in Kenya it is always dusty and dry, but there it was nearly the complete opposite.  Some day I hope to return and not only raft the Nile again, but also go to Northern Uganda and see the mountain gorillas that live there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jordan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-5567339961125815828?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/5567339961125815828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/07/africas-aorta.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/5567339961125815828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/5567339961125815828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/07/africas-aorta.html' title='Africa&apos;s Aorta'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SlH7VnDuy0I/AAAAAAAAAC4/Y5e7Mm4PDnI/s72-c/IMG_2494.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-5862255019201398943</id><published>2009-06-28T05:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T05:54:59.723-04:00</updated><title type='text'>South to Eden</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/Skc8x0yVqPI/AAAAAAAAACg/VwnxUis2QqI/s1600-h/IMG_2262.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/Skc8x0yVqPI/AAAAAAAAACg/VwnxUis2QqI/s320/IMG_2262.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352313508834158834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/Skc8xobV0zI/AAAAAAAAACY/1BSc3Edm1GQ/s1600-h/IMG_2254.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/Skc8xobV0zI/AAAAAAAAACY/1BSc3Edm1GQ/s320/IMG_2254.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352313505516475186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/Skc5IiEX0rI/AAAAAAAAACQ/OPkzOjVCUXM/s1600-h/IMG_1999.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/Skc5IiEX0rI/AAAAAAAAACQ/OPkzOjVCUXM/s320/IMG_1999.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352309500900004530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The top photo is of a mother cheetah.  She was searching the grasslands for something to eat. The middle picture is of a leopard we saw that had just killed and begun to eat an impala. The bottom picture is of a lioness that we saw only fifteen minutes after driving into the Masai Mara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I returned last night from the Masai Mara, and all I can say is, "Wow."  It is the most beautiful place I have ever been.  I took so many pictures with the intention of capturing this place's beauty, but my pictures don't do it justice.  It is the East Africa of my dreams - large, open grasslands of golden tipped grass that sway when the wind blows.  The swaying gives the illusion of a sea of gold.  It made me think that Eden must have looked something like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All throughout the park are large herds of Thompson's and Grant's gazelle, wildebeest, giraffe, elephants and plenty of predators to hunt them all down.  The migration has not started yet, so I did not see the large herds that I hoped to, they are still down in the Serengetti, but I did see some amazing things.  I saw a mother cheetah and her two kittens, two groups of male lions (two a piece), a leopard with a freshly killed impala lying in a tree, a lioness with three baby cubs, and so much more.  I even saw two elephants mate.  That was something interesting to say the least.  I saw the complete "Big 5," which consists of elephant, lion, leopard, buffalo, and rhino.  In short, it was an amazing experience even though I didn't get to see the great migration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing that I really disliked about the park is that you're allowed to drive pretty much anywhere you please in the park.  You can go off the road if you like or if you see an animal of interest from far away you can go and basically chase it down.  After we left the mother cheetah and her kittens, a bunch of cars drove up and surrounded them.  I counted eighteen cars making a semi-circle around them.  It's great being able to get so close, yet it seems very unfair to the animal, especially when that animal must rely on hunting in order to survive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stayed at a Maasai tented camp right outside of the park. Our guide, Wambua (Vincent is his Christian name), gave me a Kamba name.  I am now called Kioko, by him and some other Kenyans.  The name means born in the morning.  I feel just that much more Kenyan now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all for now.  I have to finish my paper for my MSU Study Abroad.  It is due in a few days and I haven't finished it yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jordan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-5862255019201398943?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/5862255019201398943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/06/south-to-eden.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/5862255019201398943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/5862255019201398943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/06/south-to-eden.html' title='South to Eden'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/Skc8x0yVqPI/AAAAAAAAACg/VwnxUis2QqI/s72-c/IMG_2262.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-2014973661261174192</id><published>2009-06-24T04:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T05:57:48.280-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Far From an African Shack</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SkHmZbVNkGI/AAAAAAAAACA/IPW_QwTsUfg/s1600-h/IMG_1878.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SkHmZbVNkGI/AAAAAAAAACA/IPW_QwTsUfg/s320/IMG_1878.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350811156800704610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a picture of the house that I'm living in here in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Nakuru&lt;/span&gt;.  It is owned by a woman and her husband, we call them Mama and Papa &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Kena&lt;/span&gt;.  They seem to own nearly everything in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Nakuru&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow morning, about 4 a.m., I will be leaving for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Masai&lt;/span&gt; Mara near the border of Kenya and Tanzania.  It is home to one of the greatest migrations in the entire world - the migration of wildebeest and zebra from Tanzania up into Kenya.  The migration, as a whole, has probably not started yet, but the first herds may be grouping there now.  I'm really excited to see this.  Many people call it the 8&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; Wonder of the World.  Over 2 million animals make the annual journey and along the way many are killed by crocodiles, lions, leopards, and many more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;drowned&lt;/span&gt; as they cross the Mara River.  "Nature is a real hard bitch of a mother" as one of my lecturers once so eloquently stated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The chance at seeing part of this migration, let alone the Mara, is a dream come true.  This is the Africa that so many think of - open savannahs, enormous skies, and animals in every direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have still not started my internship in Nakuru.  I really don't have any idea when I actually will.  I thought after being here for two weeks that I would have at least made it into the office, but that was some dream.  This whole mess up really makes this trip to the Mara even greater.  I really need a vacation now (I say that lightly as everyone back home is working).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The great thing is that here in Nakuru I'm living with Mama Kena and her family as well as 6 other interns.  3 of them are Americans that are currently living in S. Korea and working as teachers.  The other three are students at different American universities and are here to study varying fields.  I really like all of them, which is great because we all live fairly close together even though our home is enormous.  Well I must be going now.  Not that I have a job to rush off to, I just don't have anything more to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jordan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-2014973661261174192?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/2014973661261174192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/06/far-from-african-shack.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/2014973661261174192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/2014973661261174192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/06/far-from-african-shack.html' title='Far From an African Shack'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SkHmZbVNkGI/AAAAAAAAACA/IPW_QwTsUfg/s72-c/IMG_1878.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-574722752572402140</id><published>2009-06-22T10:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T10:16:30.143-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Baseball - I'm at my breaking point.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/Sj-RhBOQ21I/AAAAAAAAAB4/bmevel158XI/s1600-h/IMG_1880.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350154878789409618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/Sj-RhBOQ21I/AAAAAAAAAB4/bmevel158XI/s320/IMG_1880.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Above is a picture of me taken the other day when I crossed from the Southern Hemisphere into the Northern Hemisphere about an hour north of Nakuru.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night I was laying there in my bed trying to think about what I missed most from the United States. I initially thought popcorn and Pepsi, but then it came to me. I miss baseball the most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss freaking out when my team goes 3 and 7 over a 10 game period. I miss Baseball Tonight on ESPN. I miss John Miller and even Joe Morgan on Sunday Night Baseball. I miss Rod Allen saying the most outrageously rediculous things you could think of. I miss the crack of the bat. I miss hating the Yankees. I miss the people - Sweet Lou Pinella, Griffey the kid, Curtis Granderson flying into the centerfield wall, Rollins and Utley making amazing double play after amazing double play. I miss the teams in 1st place slumping and dropping to 3rd place, so long as it's not a team I like. I miss hoping Carl Crawford will steal another bag. I miss waking up and checking the box scores. I miss seeing that Josh Hamilton went 0-4 and fearing that it's the beginning of some giant slump. I miss hoping Manny Ramirez will get suspended - well that already happened, but I'm still hoping A-Rod will. I miss baseball and can't wait to watch it again in August. Just in time for the playoffs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can go without apple pie, Uncle Sam, and I'm even skipping the 4th of July, but missing baseball is nearly too much. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think this year will be the year of the greatest World Series in history - Tigers v. Reds.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It can happen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jordan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-574722752572402140?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/574722752572402140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/06/baseball-im-at-my-breaking-point.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/574722752572402140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/574722752572402140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/06/baseball-im-at-my-breaking-point.html' title='Baseball - I&apos;m at my breaking point.'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/Sj-RhBOQ21I/AAAAAAAAAB4/bmevel158XI/s72-c/IMG_1880.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-96348474179202091</id><published>2009-06-19T03:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T03:52:04.431-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Philadelphia Orphanage</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtAsrEN59I/AAAAAAAAABA/DZrmU7d_BcI/s1600-h/IMG_1847.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtAsrEN59I/AAAAAAAAABA/DZrmU7d_BcI/s320/IMG_1847.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348940118651430866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day we were driving down the road and there were some street children playing in a big pile of trash and one of the other interns here, Dustin, asked, "How many orphanages do you think are in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Nakuru&lt;/span&gt;?"  I responded, "Not enough."  It seems everywhere we go there are kids all over that are right on the edge of not making it to the next day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After seeing these kids I realized that as sad as it seems I'm kind of becoming numb to this scene.  Traveling down the roads, whether in the rural or urban areas, you see this every single day.  To think you can get used to seeing people in extreme poverty is rough, but to think you can get used to seeing children in poverty is truly heartbreaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three months ago I never would have believed that you could grow accustomed to seeing blood shot eyes and swollen bellies and sewage streaming by in the streets and ruined buildings and just an overwhelming feeling of despair.  This isn't the worst place in the world.  Many places probably have it worse, but I just wish it wasn't so.  There are places and people that are doing something about it and making a difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One place is the Philadelphia Orphanage here in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Nakuru&lt;/span&gt;.  They take in street children that have no other options.  Some are housed there and others just come for the day.  They all get at least one meal and the beginning of an education.  The orphanage is not without its issues, but it is a start.  For some of these kids it is the best opportunity they have at a half decent chance of a better life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've found that Kenya is full of these stories.  Orphanages and schools that are trying to make a difference no matter how small or subtle, and I think that this is the first step, although a large one, in trying to break the cycle of poverty that is constantly looming over the lower class here.  Kenya is an amazing country with so many possibilities and so much promise.  Hopefully it can move forward and there won't be a need for so many of these orphanages, and travelers to this country, like myself, won't grow accustomed to the street children because they will be such a rare sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jordan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-96348474179202091?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/96348474179202091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/06/philadelphia-orphanage.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/96348474179202091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/96348474179202091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/06/philadelphia-orphanage.html' title='Philadelphia Orphanage'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtAsrEN59I/AAAAAAAAABA/DZrmU7d_BcI/s72-c/IMG_1847.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-2229450415385204949</id><published>2009-06-18T07:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T07:56:02.323-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cluster "F" that Is Nakuru</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;So I have now been in Nakuru for nearly 5 days.  I am here to work in an internship position with the Kenyan Wildlife Service, and have I worked with them yet?  Nope.  Have I even talked to someone that works for them?  Nope.  Apparently there has been some sort of mix up with my paperwork and I am now forced to wait around until it is sorted out.  I'm really anxious to start here and so it sucks having to sit around and wait.  Hopefully I'll be starting on Monday at least, but it may be another week or more.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;I've since been placed with my host family.  This is the great part about my internship.  I am living with a woman that we call Mama Kena.  She is, to put it best, pretty well off.  We live in a really nice home that is far nicer than any home I've ever lived in to date.  It is nearly a mansion.  We live about 4 miles outside of Nakuru and have to be driven into town so that me and the other interns can go to work.  The only difference is that I don't have a job and they all do.  Mama Kena, seemingly, owns half of Nakuru.  She owns a gas station, transportation line, bar, restaurant, streetside cafe, and a few other franchises.  Honestly, every place we go she either owns or frequents enough to be known by the owner.  It's pretty sweet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;However, I still have the issue with KWS and my job.  That part really sucks, but to pass my time I've been going with the other interns to the Philadelphia Orphanage.  I've been playing soccer with the kids on their lunch breaks and after school.  In between, I just write in my journal or read a book.  If I have to do this for another week the monotony may cause me to explode.  I hope this whole thing gets settled, otherwise who knows what I'm going to do for the next two months.  As it stands right now it is a giant cluster "f" as my mother would say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Well that is all for now.  Take care and kwa heri.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Jordan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-2229450415385204949?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/2229450415385204949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/06/cluster-f-that-is-nakuru.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/2229450415385204949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/2229450415385204949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/06/cluster-f-that-is-nakuru.html' title='The Cluster &quot;F&quot; that Is Nakuru'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-550011052223346375</id><published>2009-06-14T11:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T11:33:29.339-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Driving</title><content type='html'>The last few days I have been having some very sickening and painful stomach issues.  Lots of meals left uneaten because my stomach can't take it and the food the does go down seems to come up within an hour.  I think it is because of a sandwich I ate on the flight back from Mombasa.  Not too much fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I felt quite a bit better today than I did yesterday, so I decided to go out and do some of the things I've always wanted to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) My roommate Adam, the son of this ranch's owner, has a pet cheetah.  So he took me up to where they keep it and I got to play with it for a while.  I probably outweigh the cheetah by at least 90 lbs. but it still remains incredibly intimidating.  Looking at the cheetah it has two black stripes beneath its eyes that seem very much like war paint.  It had such a loud purring that you could seemingly feel it in your chest.  Not to mention the cheetah is amazingly quick.  One second I'd be petting it as it lay down, then the next it would be up on all fours and looking me directly in the eyes.  It was an amazing experience to get to spend time with one of the world's fastest animals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) After this Adam taught me how to drive a stick shift.  We took out his old Range Rover and went on a bit of a sunday drive.  I stalled 4 times I think, but seemed to quickly get the hang of it.  Cruising along the dirt roads of his ranch next to giraffes, wildebeest, and zebra was a very surreal moment.  I don't know if there has ever been a greater place to learn to drive a manual then here in wild Kenya. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I will be leaving to head about 4 and 1/2 hours north to my internship in Nakuru.  I talked to the woman that I'll be living with and she seemed very friendly.  Hopefully this first impression will hold true.  In a sense I'm really excited about this new chapter in my summer story, yet I also am slightly unsure of what I should be expecting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This next part is more for my brother.  The ranch I'm staying at was used to film a portion of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.  In one of the tucked away warehouses here they have a canon from the film, a full sized plane that was used in the filming, and some other props.  When I come home we'll have to watch it and I can point a few things out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jordan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-550011052223346375?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/550011052223346375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/06/sunday-driving.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/550011052223346375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/550011052223346375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/06/sunday-driving.html' title='Sunday Driving'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-4808223938582527493</id><published>2009-06-13T08:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T09:12:35.435-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Snows of Kilimanjaro</title><content type='html'>Well it has been well over a week since my last post, and while I really wanted to post an update it was made difficult by the fact that we have had NO internet in nearly a millenium.  So where to start...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We traveled down to Amboseli National Park, which sits right on the border of Kenya and Tanzania and at the foot of Mt. Kilimanjaro - the roof of Africa.  At first the mountain was covered in a thick cover of clouds, but then at night the clouds rolled back and exposed the nearly 20,000 foot tall summit.  The glaciers are still atop the mountain, but are sadly disappearing as time presses on.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;From Amboseli we traveled to Ngulia Safari Lodge in Tsavo West National Park.  This was out in the absolute middle of no where, yet it was a beautiful place to spend a few nights.  Right before dinner, the restaurant workers would tie up a piece of meat that attracted two leopards every night.  So while we were eating and conversing, one of the more deadly African mammals was munching just a few yards away.  Then from our balcony there was a watering hole were buffalo and elephants would spend the hotter portions of the day cooling themselves.  You could just go out, sit down, and take in these great creatures.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After Tsavo West we traveled to Watamu, Kenya and stayed at the Turtle Bay Beach Club.  This stop marked the final week of my Study Abroad trip.  Here I spent probably 75% of my day laying in the sun or swimming, while the other 25% was spent eating.  It was an absolutely beautiful place to visit.  I also went snorkeling and saw a stonefish (one of the deadlier fish in the world), an octopus, and lots of sea urchins.  Then two days after that we went scuba diving there in the Indian Ocean.  It was amazing.  We saw two green sea turtles, a sea anemone with lots of clown fish, other tropical fish, lion fish, and crocodile fish.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The best part about this stop in Turtle Bay had to be - the dancing.  My group had some amazing dancers in it.  A few special shout outs to Mike with his rendition of MJ's Man in the Mirror. Stevie and Colton for keeping it going everynight.  Amanda for a guitar solo, which stopped time. Wes for showing us how to dance all crazy like.  In short, everyone for dancing because it may have been one of my favorite memories.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With that being said we all parted ways yesterday.  If was a very sad affair.  As our Professor Dorothy commented, "Of course we can meet again.  Mountains are the only things that don't." That woman will be tremendously missed and without her I'm 110% sure that the trip would have ended differently.  I don't say it lightly when I say that she really acted like a mother to all 15 of us.  Whenever we just needed a laugh or someone to vent to she was always right there.  She even went so far as to teach us life's most valuable lesson - what love is.  That I will probably write about some other day.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Having everyone gone is a really weird feeling.  My roommate Jim left early on Friday morning and when I woke up it seriously felt like I was having withdrawls.  You get so used to having the same person around then when they are gone it's kind of like being blindsided.  Then waking up this morning and going to breakfast with only my roommate Adam around was really strange.  Where did all 15 of my friends go?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Looking back, I can't believe 5 weeks have passed.  Then again it seems like a year.  Every journey must come to an end and though this study abroad trip ended yesterday, I'm positive that my friendship with all of these people will not. I have never grown so close with a group of people and though saying goodbye to them yesterday was very difficult and saddening, saying hello will be an even greater joy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I am staying back at the Hopcraft Ranch in Athi River.  Then on Monday I'll be heading up north to Nakuru National Park and starting my intership.  I expect the first week will be difficult as I will know absolutely no one, but luckily nearly every Kenyan I've met loves to talk to a white guy that knows some Swahili.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Take care,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jordan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-4808223938582527493?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/4808223938582527493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/06/snows-of-kilimanjaro.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/4808223938582527493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/4808223938582527493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/06/snows-of-kilimanjaro.html' title='The Snows of Kilimanjaro'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-7061122619934395703</id><published>2009-05-29T14:05:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T14:25:55.178-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Very CIA Moment</title><content type='html'>The other day up in Naivasha, Kenya we had a very CIA moment.  We went out on these motorized canoes to see some hippos that live in the lake.  We also saw some cape buffalo and fish eagles.  The guides on the tour actually got the fish eagles to swoop down next to the boat, pick up a fish they had thrown in the water, and soar up into the sky with their catch.  It was amazing to see. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, what happened as we were coming off the water was what I can only describe as a "very CIA moment."  When we got back to the dock, one of our drivers ran down to meet us.  He seemed very worried when he arrived and we had no idea why.  He told us that they couldn't take us back to our lodge with the vans, because the locals were demonstrating on the road and it was too unsafe for us to try and travel past.  So with echos of last year's post-election violence, in which thousands were murdered throughout the countryside, our guides and driver decided to shuttle us across the lake to our lodge instead of taking the chance of creating an international incident of sorts.  With large thunderhead clouds rolling in over the lake, we rode off into the waters again all while being watched by the locals that were standing around down by the dock.  The whole incident reminded me of some sort of CIA operation where they work continuously to evacuate US citizens.  A very CIA moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elsewhere in my journey, I got back to the ranch and was talking to one of the waiters here and he said, "I nearly forgot.  I got you something."  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a 10 cent coin that was about the size of our half dollar.  He told me that the coin was minted during Kenya's occupation by the British.  The date on the coin was 1952, some 11 years before they would gain independence.  Michael, the waiter that gave me the coin, has a brother that works here too, and he said that in 1952 their father was fighting the British to gain independence for Kenya.  I was very honored to be given something with such a storied history.  So this evening, I gave Michael a Michigan State t-shirt.  Unfortunately, it was one of my older ones but it was the only thing I had to trade him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow we leave for Amboseli National Park.  We'll be there for a few days and then heading out towards the coast.  It's crazy to think that the trip is over half over with, but in the same sense that means there is still half to go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best wishes,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jordan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-7061122619934395703?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/7061122619934395703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/05/very-cia-moment.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/7061122619934395703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/7061122619934395703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/05/very-cia-moment.html' title='A Very CIA Moment'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-3499081564790303339</id><published>2009-05-28T04:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T05:10:46.486-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Could I have been anyone other than myself?</title><content type='html'>We have spent the last few days up in Naivasha, Kenya.  Here we took a few tours of national parks in the region like Nakuru National Park and Hell's Gate National Park.  Both parks, like much of Kenya, were stunningly beautiful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went into Nakuru National Park where I'll be working for my internship and it was simply amazing.  We saw a pride of lions, many rhinos, and over 1 and 1/2 million flamingos.  It will be really exciting to go there on a daily basis and do some work.  Hopefully, I'll even learn a thing or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the city of Naivasha leaves much to be desired in terms of cleanliness and basic sanitation.  Cows walk throughout the town, trash covers much of the roadside, and when it rains there is standing water for days and days.  While driving through the city I saw an old man pushing his bike alongside the road.  He had the bike loaded down with crates containing different things like plastic bags and a bit of food.  After passing him I thought about the Dave Matthews Band song "Dancing Nancies."  In the song he sings about how he could have been something else in his life if he'd of taken a left turn instead of taking a right, or how he could of been born someone else.  Throughout the lyrics, "Could I have been anyone other than myself?" are sung.  After seeing this man, I began to think about these lyrics and how important of a question it is.  I was born into a relatively easy lifestyle with many advantages, yet this man was born into a life far more difficult than anything I have experienced.  It's just funny the way it is that one can be born into ease, while another is born into hardship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To further my point, we went to a school in Naivasha yesterday.  The school has over 1,000 kids and after meeting with them we got about 2 hours to mix and mingle.  I took tons of pictures and after one particular picture a kid about 12 years old came up to me and said, "How much did your camera cost?"  I tried to calculate the exchange rate in my head and told him, "It cost about 55,000 schillings."  He kind of looked at me awkwardly and said, "You'd of been better off buying cows."  I laughed so hard, but here I am in Kenya where they value the cow nearly as high as we Americans value our cars, homes, and other possessions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far into the trip, roughly 3 weeks, I haven't really missed anything.  Pepsi is hard to come by but if you know which stores have it you can usually stock up on it.  The only thing I really have missed is baseball and hot dogs.  The hot dogs here are not anything I care to eat unless I have to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must be going now.  Take care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jordan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-3499081564790303339?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/3499081564790303339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/05/could-i-have-been-anyone-other-than.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/3499081564790303339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/3499081564790303339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/05/could-i-have-been-anyone-other-than.html' title='Could I have been anyone other than myself?'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-4462721407574327968</id><published>2009-05-22T14:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T14:42:25.800-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Soccer in East Africa</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;We just got done playing soccer with some of the local workers here on the ranch.  The workers work down in the engine shop, so when they finished up their day's work we met them for a game of soccer on the pitch (that's a field).  One of the players on my team was a Maasai that wore his traditional cloth and in his belt he held a knife used to kill any predators as well as for slaughtering his cattle.  What a surreal moment that was.  It was probably the most fun I have had here in East Africa since we landed.  We played for nearly two hours and now I'm completely exhausted.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;We'll be here on the ranch where we've been staying for nearly two weeks for just a few more days.  It's kind of sad because I've gotten to know all the people that work here: Kevin the bartender, Mary the cook, Kelly the mechanic/driver, and many others.  However, I won't be able to move on through the country if I stay in one place for the entire time.  We just got the internet here so hopefully I'll be able to post tomorrow as well.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Yesterday, was the hardest day here in Kenya.  It was considerably hot and we traveled to Machakos, a neighboring town about 1 and 1/2 hours southeast of Nairobi.  Here we looked at a farm and some other stuff, but what was so hard was to see the poverty.  These are the poorest of the poor and after hearing different Kenyans talk about the cycle of poverty, it seems like there is no way out.  By the end of the day it had really worn on me how sad an experience we were witnessing.  I was cornered twice on the street by beggers that were not all there mentally.  They spoke no Swahili and no English, so I had no way out.  Luckily, my driver Kelly showed up and spoke their tribal language.  They left me alone, but it is so hard to see people like that.  Unfortunately, like many of the problems in Kenya that I've seen, there doesn't seem to be any quick or simplistic solution.  Everything is a mix and jumble of ropes that are forming a tight knot on this beautiful country.  The most reassuring thing is talking to the Kenyans about it.  They say, "Yes, we have problems but we also have hope."  There favorite motto, which is taken directly from out President, whom they all dearly love b/c of his father's Kenyan nationality, is "Yes we can."  No issue seems unsolvable.  So in that I take some comfort knowing that no matter how bad things seem, there is still a feeling that not all is lost.  Things can be better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Overall, Kenya is still treating me right and in general I'm really loving every experience.  Especially playing soccer with and against Kenyans, while being surrounded with African savannah and Maasai cattle.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Hope all is well,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Jordan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-4462721407574327968?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/4462721407574327968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/05/soccer-in-east-africa.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/4462721407574327968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/4462721407574327968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/05/soccer-in-east-africa.html' title='Soccer in East Africa'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-7843069480588982421</id><published>2009-05-18T06:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T06:56:23.500-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Into Kenya</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Kenya is something else: poor, beautiful, wild, and about a million other adjectives.  One I would not use is developed.  The roads here are crazy.  What we would consider to be a two lane road turns into a six land highway in a matter of seconds.  It is nearly as exciting as a NASCAR race that goes three wide into turn four (I can't believe I referenced NASCAR).  Cars swerve, honk, and edge there way down the main highway, which connects Mombasa on the coast, to Nairobi (the capital), to Uganda, and even on into the Congo.  Driving down the road you take in a breath full of dust and diesel fumes and struggle to clear it from your throat before inhaling another mixture.  We ride along in Range Rovers just inches away from people walking, bicycling, and 5+ ton trucks.  Dust swirls the entire way.  Even when you are on a paved road it seems like dust is as common as the air you breath. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Along the side of the roads are people lingering next to Coca-Cola stands or just walking around for reasons related to unemployment.  People wait in long lines outside of the factories on a daily basis for the chance at making a single day's wages.  Yesterday we planted a forest of Acacia trees on the ranch we are staying at.  There we were told that Kenyans who plant trees for the entire day would make 200 shillings.  That is less than $3 for eight hours of work.  We worked for 2 and 1/2 hours and I was spent.  Kenya is definitely not a place for the weak willed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;In the national parks we've seen two cheetahs and a lion along with many other animals.  Two days ago we went into the Great Rift Valley where some anthropologists believe mankind came from.  The Rift Valley is the supposed site of the Garden of Eden, but today it is far from lush and home to only the Maasai and their cattle.  It is now nearly completely arid and a very hot place.   It is really amazing to  see the Maasai.  They wear the most beautiful colors and somehow always seem to look clean.  After one day all of my clothes were covered in dust. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Overall, I find the Kenyan people to be friendly and easy to talk with.  At first my Swahili was enough to get by with basic greetings, but now I can have brief conversations without much effort.  They get such a kick out of people that are learning the language.  Most are willing to teach you a new word or phrase.  However, you must be willing to take some laughing at in return. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Anyway, I must be going.  We need to leave Nairobi soon or it will take hours to get out of the city. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Kwa Heri (goodbye),&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Jordan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-7843069480588982421?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/7843069480588982421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/05/into-kenya.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/7843069480588982421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/7843069480588982421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/05/into-kenya.html' title='Into Kenya'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-6347837620233241449</id><published>2009-05-08T23:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T00:08:53.292-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This Is Going To Last Me For Three Months?</title><content type='html'>The title of this post is basically the question that keeps going through my head the last few days.  How do I know what I will and will not need while I'm gone. The answer I came up with, a very obvious answer, is - I won't.  I can only try to prepare, but I did make a list of three things that I MUST take in order to have a successful trip.  1) A pen and paper to write down what I see, think, and most importantly to catalog the little things that I otherwise would forget.  2) A camera to capture those moments in time and place.  3) A clean haircut, because as you all know, I'm known for my aerodynamics.  Not really but I can dream.  The third important thing that I'm taking is a poncho incase a monkey throws poop on me.  I would hate to be the guy that gets hit with poo and then brings back some wicked disease to the US that makes everyone freak out.  A disease like ape flu, the deadlier cousin to swine flu.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I leave at 7:30PM on Saturday and its hard to imagine that I went to Africa nearly one year ago and when I got home all I wanted to do was return.  Now I'm going back.  Pretty amazing, but I still have no idea what to expect.  I've heard that East Africa is like night and day from Souther Africa.  Different histories, cultures, landscape, and so on.  It should be an interesting trip in which I'll learn so much that my head will probably swell to even more enormous proportions then what it is now, but that's a small price to pay for all that I am about to learn.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need to go and make final preparations for my date with destiny.  As I've said before, I will update this blog as frequently and consistently as I can.  It is my hope that this blog will serve as a sort of portal into not only what I'm doing but to the region of East Africa as a whole.  Take care and be safe.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-6347837620233241449?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/6347837620233241449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/05/this-is-going-to-last-me-for-three.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/6347837620233241449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/6347837620233241449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/05/this-is-going-to-last-me-for-three.html' title='This Is Going To Last Me For Three Months?'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-6239961713364764985</id><published>2009-05-02T22:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T22:53:49.813-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Saying Goodbye</title><content type='html'>Today was one of those really surreal moments that happen when you stop and think, "Wow, this is really happening" or "I can't believe I'm going to do this."  I think they often happen before big purchases and weddings.  It happened as I was leaving my neighbor's house and Geoff (my neighbor) looked at me and said, "Well I probably won't see you again, so have fun in Africa and enjoy your trip."  He is getting his wisdom teeth pulled and is leaving East Lansing tomorrow.  I have other friends from back home that I go extended periods of time without seeing, but this instance was the first time that I really thought about how I'm going to another hemisphere, another continent, and an entirely different way of life.  I truly am leaving it all behind.  Crazy.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I should be somewhat used to this sort of thing.  I've already said goodbye to my best friend Brandon and when all is said and done over four months will have passed between saying goodbye and seeing him again.  When I return in August it'll be something like eight months since I've seen my roommate Jeanne (she took an internship in LA).  Yet saying goodbye today was the first time that my leave away from home really hit me.  Luckily, this thing called the internet was created and I'm sure that it will allow me some sense of normalcy and a way of keeping in touch with everyone back home.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That brings me to my next and final point.  I would really encourage and appreciate any comments on either my facebook page or this blog.  Not that I really care what you all are doing (haha I'm only kidding) but in case of a homesickness attack, I'm sure reading any comments and message would offer me some sort of a remedy.  Not to mention I won't feel completely out of my element when I return and at least know a bit of what has been going on. Just remember my mother may read them, so any inappropriate jokes should be made so that she can laugh at them as well.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-6239961713364764985?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/6239961713364764985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/05/saying-goodbye.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/6239961713364764985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/6239961713364764985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/05/saying-goodbye.html' title='Saying Goodbye'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-3378198242228829315</id><published>2009-04-30T05:01:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T00:37:52.403-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Only 10 Days To Go</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Well I leave for Kenya in less than a week and a half and I feel utterly unprepared.  In a sense I knew my departure was coming up quickly, yet I also feel like it has somehow crept up on me and left me in a state of extreme unpreparedness.  I think to what I need to take and can't fathom what I will need.  I think of what I'll need and am unsure of what to take.  With only ten short days to go I should probably figure this out, but that is part of the adventure I suppose.  The sense of not knowing what is and is not necessary for a summer in Africa.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Additionally, I just received this in the email today about a certain drink I may encounter in Kenya.  I says, "Chang’a-homebrewed liquor. Chang’a is made from a wide variety of fermented foods including berries, milk, or honey."  Sounds delicious doesn't it?  A drink made from honey, but imagine my horror when I read the next line, "Take care because sometimes it can be laced with poisons such as methanol."  I am completely unsure of the logic behind lacing it with a poison, but nevertheless I'll probably pass on this form of Grandpa's cough syrup.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;    &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-3378198242228829315?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/3378198242228829315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/04/only-10-days-to-go.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/3378198242228829315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/3378198242228829315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/04/only-10-days-to-go.html' title='Only 10 Days To Go'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053160886138681660.post-8516355613569347742</id><published>2009-04-14T01:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T02:14:13.213-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Trip Details</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I thought it would probably be important to state what my trip itinerary is and why I am even doing a blog.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I will be leaving in less than one month, May 9th, for Kenya.  I will be touching down in Nairobi on Sunday May 10th.  The first portion of my trip is the Study Abroad leg of my journey.  This portion will last roughly five weeks until Friday June 12th.  I'll stay over in Nairobi for a few days, then my internship will begin on June 15th in Nakuru, Kenya.  For the next two months I will be living in Nakuru and working for the Kenyan Wildlife Service on a variety of projects that involve water issues inside Nakuru National Park.  The internship will end on August 7th and I will arrive back home in Michigan on August 9th.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I am really looking forward to the trip as a whole, but the internship should be especially amazing.  Just the opportunity of staying for the entire summer in Africa is a dream come true.  Last year I came home from South Africa once my Study Abroad Program was over and I had really wished that I would've stayed longer to do some traveling and sightseeing.  This year I decided to not make the same mistake again.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;About this blog:  My brother suggested that this may be a good way of keeping people up to date with what I am doing, as well as an interesting way to detail my journey.  As of now I plan on giving this blog my best faith effort and to update it as soon as and as extensively as I can.  However, sometimes the best laid plans can fall by the wayside, but its worth a shot.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053160886138681660-8516355613569347742?l=jordanblekking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/feeds/8516355613569347742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/04/trip-details.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/8516355613569347742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053160886138681660/posts/default/8516355613569347742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jordanblekking.blogspot.com/2009/04/trip-details.html' title='Trip Details'/><author><name>Jordan Blekking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10479634633894849435</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YpqFA_di1F0/SjtE8GO84kI/AAAAAAAAABI/-inAvJLFEcE/S220/IMG_1854.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
