del mar to la jolla…

@ mile 6, with the super-terrifying torrey pines hill in the distance

i just completed one of my most favorite journeys. unlike so many of my other travels, this one did not require that i obtain a visa, immunization certificates, or malaria pills. it didn’t require a plane, a car, or a bike.

i did not spend hours of my time doing internet research on hotels, flight prices, and itiner-izing my “to-dos” and “must-sees.” i didn’t even pack my travel must -haves. my latest adventure did not require one ounce of gasoline.

this trip was so very different from my others. it was a mere 13.1 miles, from one city in california to another city in california. everything i needed i had on my body: tennis shoes and some tunes. it was fueled by a concoction of 1 part healthy food and drink, 100 parts determination, commitment, and willpower.  it also took 3 months of physical training and mental preparation. it took blood (stupid chafing), sweat (enough to fill a 5 person spa for sure), and tears (mostly because i used the training time to confront the demons i had avoided for the better part of my 20s).

2011 resolution 1 of 6: complete a half marathon… done! now, onto the next one.


happy international women’s day

i cannot let international women’s day go by without a little bunnytreks tribute to the beautiful women whose words have left me breathless from inspiration. to the women whose actions have made me hungry to fight for more. who gave me courage to really believe, “I am not afraid…I was born to do this.” -Joan of Arc

quite simply, to give more love.

the kinda day

when all of your best intentions die just because life is too sweet and too simple to deal with to do lists. it’s 70 degrees, sunny and 1:30 PM on a friday in san diego. it’s a bagel picnic at the beach kinda day, and i love it. i have two midterms next week, and then i’m OFF to NYC and DC for 10 days. i haven’t been “home” since i left it last summer. i’m so excited i can barely stand it.

so, instead of studying, i’m just going to go with it. my mood suits a line i read today:

it’s way too late to be careful. so instead i’ll dream of something important.


Acculturation Anxiety

culture shock: a condition of disorientation affecting someone who is suddenly exposed to an unfamiliar culture or way of life or set of attitudes

so California culture shock has materialized, and I’m indeed feeling disoriented. some reasons why:

  • local San Diego newspaper advertisements read, “Get 1 free gram- Text 420 to ###-####.”
  • at my local trader joe’s, most customers walk around in bikinis and wet suits. some do not wear shoes (and it’s not because they are homeless).
  • the number of grown men and women wearing neon-colored wayfarers is kind of disturbing.
  • is it really ALWAYS this sunny and bright?

oddly, i am still suffering from some Kenya-U.S.A. culture transitions:

  • I can’t handle ice. even cold water offends my body. all liquids and food need to be body temperature.
  • I keep waiting for the electricity to go out but it NEVER does.
  • I still don’t trust water from the faucet (the water in my Kisumu apartment ran yellow and tasted like dirty metal).

is this normal?

for those of you who have gone abroad and come back again, did you experience culture shock? tell me about it! also, what did you appreciate about home and what did you realize you could live without?

When enough is enough

last sunset from my Kisumu apartment

I thought I’d share my journal entry from the day I arrived to Kisumu. it could be rather therapeutic to take this thing full circle, so that I can tie this volunteer experience in a nice, neat bow.

June 12, 2010

I arrived to Kisumu today. there is nothing to do here except go to grocery stores. there’s a pool apparently, and I saw a movie theatre. tomorrow I will try to muster the courage to go to work on the back of a bicycle. hmm. we’ll see how that goes. I only felt lonely about 10 times and scared only 2 times. the place I am staying is ok. I don’t know how to close the windows.

brilliant, right? it keeps going:

I was just starting to like DC and I could have spent my summer working out, tanning poolside, relaxing, and making money. instead I am bushing out in the middle of nowhere and NOT making money. what was I thinking? but I had always envisioned doing something like this for myself, and I cannot wait to meet the girls. be brave. just be patient and try.

Kisumu and I only have one day left together. after 7 weeks of working here I realized that people are right when they say change is as good as rest. I feel so refreshed. last year I exhausted myself and my loved ones with my need for support and I just felt lost. I so desperately needed an experience that would allow me an opportunity to start acting like the person I wanted to be… someone who had something of value to give.

I used to be the girl that never said no… anything exciting and I was game… foreign lands, tall dark strangers and last minute adventures were experiences that I let define me. but I feel like I have changed so much during my time here. maybe I haven’t though. maybe I’m just more aware of who I am.

feeling a new kind of connection to myself. it’s a distinct feeling that what I have and what I am is enough. even if that just means that I no longer feel the pain that plagued me last year, the absence of that pain is enough to make me happy. and being comfortable is enough. I no longer need the extreme to make me feel satisfied. (um but trust that I will be on another extreme adventure soon- old habits die hard.)

I had no idea that I could or would feel so at home in this little city with nothing to do, but I do. I didn’t know that I had more to give than just templates and spreadsheets, but I did. I shared knowledge and led strategy sessions and saw that people are very much strengthened by words of encouragement. and I soothed crying naked African babies and fed my friends sweet treats that made them smile. and that’s enough. I am happy.

I have no regrets. in fact, volunteering for this project is probably one of the best and healthiest decisions I’ve made for my life yet. definitely a good start to 26.

oh, and I figured out how to close my windows.

consider this bow perfectly tied.

I swear this isn’t a food blog.


alright, today I am going to start with an unpleasant truth. but then then I am going to make it delicious.

development work (mostly when you’re in your early 20s and sitting behind a desk in Washington, DC) is sometimes HUGELY unsatisfying. I’ve held countless informational interviews for people who want to get into this field because they think it’s all g-l-a-m-o-r-o-u-s (ooh the flossy, flossy). there are perks for sure, like the travel and the weeks when you’re in the field. but there are also times when I spent days ONLY vetting expense reports. which REALLY sucked. and even when you do the cool work, results are so slight and can take so long to achieve that you may forget what it is you’re really working for.

as with most things worthwhile, development (of a person, a business, or a community) has its ups and down and takes commitment, patience, and a lot of love. so fine, I still love my job.

but how do you manage that day-to-day fluctuation of feeling? what cheers you? me, I like to cook and tend to a garden. there is something so satisfying about making something delicious from scratch, or watering something every day and seeing it bear fruit. and taking a mallet and hammering the crap out of a piece of meat. my mom says it’s like therapy. I love these activities because they provide immediate gratification, something I don’t get to experience at work too often.

well, guess who else uses cooking as an outlet? lovely Emily, my best friend and teacher here. who said herself that her most favorite thing to do, and the thing that she is best at, is cooking. isn’t she lucky? isn’t that what we’re all striving towards?

I wasn’t really expecting to make good friends while I was here, but I got really lucky. anyway, so remember a while back I told you that I enrolled in Emily’s Africuisine for Dummies course? quick refresher of the lesson plan for you forgetful types:

  1. sour porridge
  2. chapattis
  3. mandazi
  4. fried fish, tomato and onion soup and warm kale salad

wellllllll, this weekend I happily graduated. the office kitchen doesn’t allow us to fry (good idea) so Emily hosted me at her place. here are some pics of our labor. and of the delicious results.

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so, I just need everyone to mentally prepare for a Stephanie that is, ahem, a few pounds extra. please pretend that I look fabulous and that I don’t look ANY different at all. seriously. I do plan to get on a psycho workout diet routine the second I hit the west coast, but I don’t have the time nor the willpower to do that here. right now, I’m wayyy too busy stuffing my face with chapattis.

what activity gets you through a less than perfect day? and why?

***special shout out to my girl TLo for sending her recipe “Teresa’s Outrageously Healthy Berry Oatmeal Cookies.” my coworkers and I inhaled these cookies (guilt-free!) AND I was able to use all of my extra dried fruit and oats. more bird killing with stones. love it.

BEYOND paradise

the clock is quickly winding down on my African escapade, and I realized that I have yet to indulge you on one of the best parts of my time here. so go fill up that teacup/beer mug and get in a comfy position on the couch. ‘cause I’m taking you to paradise, baby.

alright, so let’s roll back to the beginning of the summer, shall we? when I was still working a FT job, saying goodbye to my DC life, creating and crossing items off of a 4 page To Do list, and shipping 22 boxes and suitcases to 3 different cities. running on zero sleep, 5 hour energy shots, Derek Brown’s Tease class and starbucks keg stands. consequently looking and feeling STRAIGHT UP crazy. yeah, remember that?

well, in the midst of this hurricane of challenges, the one thing that made it bearable was that I had a little vacation to look forward to. and by little vacation, I actually mean the trip of a lifetime. to Tanzania. specifically, Ngorongoro Crater and Zanzibar Island.

and now let me introduce you to the co-star of my ultimate adventure vaca. meet Matthias.


a Pepto-popping Austrian badass living in LA. can usually be found messing with his hair (pre-shave :(). he’s hot, super talented, and my favorite new friend. plus he’s got an accent! he is a cinematographer and photographer by profession, so seriously, enjoy these pictures. he took all of the jaw-dropping ones.

how did this all come together? in a (ground)nut shell, Matatu was wrapping up his playtime work in Jo-burg (filming a Nike Red campaign ad, watch it here) around the exact same time that I was leaving Washington/descending upon Africa, and we agreed that it was the perfect time for well-deserved and much-needed vacations.

and, thanks to my development friends, it took almost no time to plan. in approximately 30 minutes, I had names of drivers and friends, their phone numbers, hotel recs (sorted by location, price points and activities) for the entire trip… AND was put in touch with these people via email. ’twas efficiency at its finest.

looking awkward

so we were off! our plan: to safari/rough it in the crater for a day and then relaxxxxxxxx for a week on the beach. my only requirement of him was to teach me how to use my new camera (Canon 50D with 28-135 mm lens for you curious minds). his only requirement of me was unspoken, but probably along the lines of “try not to look so awkward when I point the camera lens at you.” he succeeded. I, unfortunately, did not.

like all of the great and legendary stories, ours too had a beginning, a middle, and an end. which is how I’ve divided up our trip in this post.

the beginning: death by samosa

we did the crater, all right. saw 3 animals up close and about 600 million far away. we snapped photos of baboons, elephants, lions, zebras, wildebeests, and water buffalos, and really took in what the Serengeti had to offer. was lovely.

actually, in hindsight the only thing rough about the safari was the poison that our driver, Atif, served himself and us for lunch, which at the time of disbursement, he lovingly called “the Box”.

Atif, obviously pre-Box

I kinda think the most interesting part of the crater experience was leaving it. we left the lodge at 6 AM the next morning in order to catch our flight to Zanzibar. and seriously NO ONE felt normal because of Atif’s love Box. if I hadn’t been so jetlagged and weirded out by the communal Pepto bottle being passed amongst our little threesome, I would have expressed a bit more concern about his racing down the scary mountainside in a fog cloud (with therefore zero visibility), his double fisting Pepto Bismol and Red Bull, and the length of his bathroom breaks. but, whatever. i slept through most of the terror and we made it onto the plane with no problems.

the middle: Be still like vegetables. Lay like broccoli.


we really wanted to discover Zanzibar, so we planned a beach hopping tour that allowed us to dance around the island perimeter, starting in stonetown on the west side, heading to nungwi at the northern tip and finishing up on the east side at the pongwe and matemwe beaches.

but that didn’t really tell you anything, did it? that’s just a geography lesson. so I’m going to try to provide all sensory highlights. you may or may not get some of the references. if you’re curious, just leave a comment and ask!


  • Cyan water and isolated beaches
  • sunrises and sunsets so magnificent you started to wonder if you were dreaming
  • 60,000 dolphins on the hunt
  • stonetown’s gangster’s paradise neighborhood (at the cross streets of Fallujah Ave and Rasta Blvd.)
  • dozens of shooting stars


  • for those who have yet to travel to Africa, I’m going to let you in on a little secret. it has a very distinct odor. it’s like you do your transfer somewhere in Europe and everything is normal. and the second you get to the gate to board your Africa-bound flight, you are shrouded by this smell. Matata likened it to chicken curry. I liken it to body funk. you get to decide for yourself when you go. but I guarantee that you’ll never forget it.
  • nasty hospital smell. more on that later.


  • sand so soft it would be impossible to tell the difference between that and baking flour
  • BeeZee pinches
  • mosquito bites
  • scratchy henna application

BeeZeehennasuper fine sand



  • grilled shark, squid, octopus, king crab claws, sugarcane juice, the Box, Pepto, baby bananas and Orbit Professional
  • in terms of drink, Zanzibar tasted like Kilimanjaro beer (completely inferior to Tusker), Amarulla over crushed ice and Glenfiddich
  • we went snorkeling in the mnemba atoll, and that tasted like sunscreen, orange slices, rented snorkel gear and a year’s supply of salt water


shark skewers


  • a drunk crazy man at a local bar in stonetown offered Matti some slaves (he politely declined)
  • Tiki Top Ten Hits. I guess the radio stations on Z don’t have rights to play the popular hits by the real artists, so they improvise by playing a local artist’s interpretation of these hits, recorded on low quality equipment (imagine hearing “Rude Boy” with a distinct tiki-reggaetone bongo beat)
  • I love making friends, and our first evening we met these adorable British girls so I got to practice my accent all week: “Er, yes, I’m on my gap year and my friend is visiting on HOL-iday.” “the AC is not WHUR-KING. and neither is the telly.”)

but how did Zanzibar make you feel? in a word, LUCKY. this authentic paradise island somehow managed to sizzle with serenity. and it always felt like the whole place belonged just to you.

unfortunately, the last memory of our trip was not of a gorgeous sunset, or sipping pina coladas in oversized baby chairs, or even talking sh*t over a healthy match of Connect 4. nope.

the end. death by mosquito

encouraging hospital waiting room reading material

so everything was fine until we got on our flight back to Nairobi when M started feeling sick and then exhibited ALL of the symptoms of malaria. fever, chills, the works. just like that.

enter our African hospital adventure. I dislike hospitals in general but am unreasonably terrified of non-US ones, so this was truly the antithesis of relaxing and fun. the hospital smell plus the chicken curry smell was enough to turn my stomach. and then having to watch Matats get stuck by a fantastic needle just hours before he was supposed to board his plane for the 30 hour journey home…ugh, I felt so ill that I thought I had malaria, too (but my sickness is hypochondria).

thankfully, test results showed no malaria. apparently he had just picked up a hoochie parasite that wouldn’t shake (figures).

so THAT is where it ends. we toasted our remarkable African adventure over a glass bottle of warm Coke, a piece of not too sweet cake, and 12 different kinds of antibiotics and fever reducers.

last supper

basically, the perfect ending to the perfect trip.