The City Of The Nairobi Airport

When I began reading Chapter 1 of “Mistaking Africa,” it reminded me of our first class meeting. Professor Crowley asked us to do the same exercise Curtis Keim talks about in the text. Professor Crowley asked us what comes to mind when we think about Africa. It is a great exercise and allow us to express our perceptions of Africa. Even in class, it took me time to think about what comes to mind when I hear the word Africa, because I have not really heard much about it besides the common misconceptions: “Africa is a primitive place, full of trouble and wild animals, and in need of our help” (5). I frequently see the UNICEF commercial with Alyssa Milano, who asks her viewers how it would feel to be able to save a child’s life for fifty cents a day. The commercial precedes to play really depressing music and shows a slideshow of undernourished children, who fend for themselves in

Nairobi is one of the biggest and most important cities in the continent. Many flights that travel towards various destinations in Africa often take a transit in the city. With a

When Idi Amin’s policies are forcing Asians to leave Uganda, Mina’s father Jay asks his lifelong native Ugandan friend Okelo, “Where should I go? Where should I go? This is my home” (Nair). Okelo replies, “Not any more, Jay. Africa is for Africans—black Africans” (Nair). Although the pain of being forced to leave Uganda so that its indigenous people can regain control of the economy is massive for Jay, it is this remark by his closest friend that devastates him, because what it tells him is that he does not belong in Uganda. He is not wanted, not accepted—not even by his best friend.

Woodland avenue reminds me of the motherland. I have never been to africa because a round trip to Guinea and Sierra Leone is about five thousand dollars, which is costly. Therefore, I get somewhat of a feel of Africa from Woodland avenue. In “The way of a Cherokee”, Foxxy’s memorable place was the wild mountain country, because it reminded her of her Cherokee culture and her grandfather’s tales. Foxxy mentions the memories she would have of her and her sister running around looking for white tail deers. This reminded me of how my sister and I used to run around Woodland avenue during our thirty minute break looking for new goods to buy or different foods to try out. Sometimes I would stop at my aunt’s restaurant known an “La madinque” to order some homemade soup and rice known as peanut stew. My sister and I would invite the girls from the masjid and we would go out to eat as a group. One Saturday in April 2016, my friends and I were talking about the this major party coming up at this nightclub called “Sakira”. My friends and I skipped the first part of class to go to a nearby Rite Aid to buy Makeup and Falsies. On our way back to the masjid, we stopped at dunkin donuts and grabbed some food. We figured that if we came back during breaktime, Uncle Ali wouldn’t notice. Surprised, when we arrived back at the masjid, he was waiting for us at the door. My classmates were forced to clean the masjid at the end of class, which wasn’t too bad because that deed is a form of

Kevin grit his teeth. His hands strangled the arms of his blue leather seat that were embroidered with white thread. Fear oozed from every pore within his body. His body tensed as we felt the engine roar, saw the turbines spin, and runway come to life. As the plane’s thrusters kicked in, Kevin shut his eyes, but I didn’t. I stared through my window and watched the runway lights gradually merge into a single line of fluorescent orange. Before I knew it, I was gazing upon Philadelphia, hundreds of feet in the air, illuminated by the light of an afternoon’s sun. Our destination, the Marine Corps Recruiting Depot.

Getting off the plane I can already feel the dry, humid heaves of the environment pressing against my body. My colleagues and I have traveled to West Africa, Liberia to conduct field studies in a nearby hot zone for an Ebola outbreak. We will stay in a nearby town named Monrovia, Liberia just off the coast of the Atlantic Ocean. It is a small, crowded and noisy town. Much like a majority of the country it is of very low human living standards.

The airport in Los Angeles was crawling with travelers, dragging their luggage and scurrying across the terminals like ants in a massive nest. Jackson, my nephew, had no idea that he was meeting in Los Angeles; he thought we would be meeting in Seattle, just as we usually did. I wondered if he would notice the palm trees and the stifling heat in the middle of December and know immediately. With these thoughts wandering my head, I sat impatiently by the terminal where his plane was supposed to land.

When I first stepped off the plane I could see the obvious difference in the buildings, homes, and even the roadways from what was normal to me. From the moment the non-air conditioned bus left the airport we began to drive down the bumpy streets, and I saw what it was like to live in a third world country. Lining the streets was rows of cardboard shelters, tin roofs, and dirt floored homes. Bicycles, carts, and children filled the busy streets. What really stuck out to me was very few people had on shoes or much clothing.

In her 1937 memoir Out of Africa, Isak Dinesen (Karen Blixen) skillfully constructs a well-written narrative that recounts the seventeen years she lived in Africa. Upon purchasing a four-thousand acre coffee plantation in the Ngong Hills, she gains “control” of the squatters and other African inhabitants of the farm. Blixen’s memoir gives a genuine account of her relationship with Kamante, Farah, and the other Kikuyu and Somali tribe members who work on her farm, along with her various safaris, encounters with animals, and other experiences while living in Africa. By her actions, Blixen appears to be the opposite of most abusive colonizers; she never admits to acting violently towards the workers and she describes herself as a kind and nurturing

Beautiful sunsets, salty air, sandy toes, and sun kissed skin is what you figure when hearing of exotic trips around the world. However, that was definitely not my case. June 22nd, 2015, I embarked for Lira, Uganda. Malodorous trash, red dirt, parasite infected waters, and giant mosquitos was the actuality I had. Unfortunately, this was the daily life of millions in Uganda.

Kenya Airways Limited commonly known as Kenya Airways is Kenya's flag carrier and largest airline and is engaged in the operation of both international and domestic air services including carrying passengers, freight and mail as well as providing ancillary services. Their headquarters is in Embakasi, Nairobi while its main base is at the Jomo Kenyatta

If you are about to travel to Kenya for the first time, you will probably have all sorts of questions. We have compiled a list of questions (and answers!) we get asked every day by our guests. If your question is not listed below please contact (Link) us and we'll get back to you as soon as we can.

Customer wants- Customer wants the security guards to be properly dressed, look good, to be fit and active on site to protect the customer’s property or employees of the customer.

Though Kenya’s impoverished and underdeveloped conditions were certainly not highlighted in the film, I believe it is important to observe. These conditions are best displayed by the state of the primary school. In the film, students were forced to sit 5 students to a desk and were crammed into a tiny room. Moreover, the Kenyans were highly grateful for the concept of free education. This highly contrasts the state of American schools, which are typically well funded. Americans are used to the concept of free education, so much so, that people now desire free higher education. I believe this theme is important to note because it is the key difference between the Kenyan and American

July 2013, was the date I left the world I knew to visit one I have only seen on TV. My destination was Antananarivo, Madagascar and I was ecstatic. Sitting in my narrow cracked leather seat I fastened my seatbelt which was hard to do because I was like a kid with ants in his pants, jittery due to all the excitement. As I got settled in my seat I began to observe the people as they passed. By doing this I felt it would help me get a better insight of the people and culture I would encounter in Madagascar. My observations brought me to the conclusion that the people of Madagascar were just like the people in the US. Everyone on my flight looked