My Final Post: It's in your blood.

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...

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.  

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.  

People like Keli (my driver and Swahili teacher), Dorothy (my Kenyan professor that taught me so much about the country and its people), Wambua (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 Cavanaugh (who taught me about passion and its importance).  I'm even thankful for my MSU professor, Todd the Bod, who I didn't like at all.  He taught me I never want to be anything like him.

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."

Take care for the last time. 

Jordan

A Rather Unfair Comparison

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.

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.

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.

Take care.

Jordan

Charlie Hustle

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Take care.

Jordan

I really miss baseball.