One time I was took a trip from my itty bitty town of Mbita, Kenya to Kisumu. I should have known never to take the ferry on a Wednesday, because that also happened to be market day, which means all the cattle sellers turned the passenger/car ferry into a cow ferry.
Kenya is not known for its turkeys - they're unheard of, actually. So when we found these baby turkeys in town, we had to buy them and fatten them up for Thanksgiving. We had to hold them on our laps on the drive home.
Running is one of my favorite things to do in Africa. On the dusty roads winding from fishing village to fishing village, it's like an obstacle course of goats, cows, goat and cow poo, potholes, and trucks. Every morning about 20 children on their way to school would jog with me, at least as far as their skinny little legs would allow....only two of them usually made it all the way with me. Sometimes I would stop and wait for the little ones to catch up. Even the women balancing laundry, dishes, and fish on their heads would run with me. Have you ever heard of lake flies? Let me just tell you that you don't want to run straight into a swarm of them like I did. There was never a dull moment.
I tagged along with some friends of mine to Kibera, the largest slum in Africa. I didn't feel like doing poverty tourism that day, so I ditched the gigantic camera in favor of the much more discreet cell phone.
People love these pictures, as you can tell.
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