one warzone to another.

We left flew out of Nairobi the day of the presidential elections at 11 o clock pm. Spent most of the day indoors, glued to BBC. The streets of nairobi were dead as we drove across the city to the airport. And now only nine days later the city is littered with riot teams, and families burying their dead.

From the bustling city i nagivated not even two weeks ago, it is something incredibly hard to believe.

The worst i experienced during my time in Kenya comes no where close to what is currently taking place. Although i think i recieved my first taste of injustice.


We bribed two corrupt security guards to get Kathryn's camera back. Apparently, a photo of a palm tree = compromising national security, and a camera constitutes "evidence." I have never been more livid in my entire life, and never more aware of my inability to reason with an irrational giant clutching an ak-47 in my direction.


So it looks as if i exchanged the escalating warzone of Nairobi for the visual one of Amsterdam on new years. A strange trade off.


Dam square and the surrounding area is a complete battle field. Thousands of people set off endless fireworks for hours after midnight. Littering the cobblestone and canals of an old city. The streets a solid wall of smoke. Shifting red, engulfing. Dodging fire crackers tossed carelessly or deliberately in our direction.


So the night was spent wandering the canal system watching fireworks bloom above the silouetted row houses in the rain. Arm in arm with two of my oldest and closest friends.


And now i have put them both on trains to the airport. I feel as though i may be a little lost in the days to come. I begin the new year alone. But it is a challenge i am ready for.


So I have filled my backpack full of sweaters, clementines and delicious dutch cheese. Bought a slew of used books at a market the other day, and am mapping out my next route.


(i raise your vintage 'as i lay dying' with a 1st run graham greene).


Also, i think that only an obscenely long train ride, with no friends, could possibly motivate me to read the grapes of wrath.

Otherwise i will just look out the window at pretty windmills.

l.

(By the way, with my friends gone, this is the last of the pictures you will see till i get home. Go film!)