A year later....Westgate revisited

Today marks the 1 year anniversary of my arrival to Nairobi. Mike and the kids had been in Nairobi for some time before I arrived, so it was just me and the baby. It's a tough transition to have to endure as it is, but only 4 days after arriving, a terrible terrorist attack happened. Below I have attached an essay I wrote as my personal experience: "The Day of Westgate" We are reliving this day because the one year anniversary is coming up and HBO recently released a documentary on that terrible event, which we've now watched and I can't help but feel thankful, angry, relieved and so so sad. We were in that mall just an hour before the attack started with our 4 children, one of whom was only 2 months old. It is such a scary feeling to think what if... but also to think of all the people who have suffered from this event.

The Day of Westgate:

Arriving home, she stomps up the stairs and calls down to her husband, “I just need a nap.”  It was a long night with the baby and she hasn’t quite recovered from the 32-hour journey from Arizona. The days have been long and the nights even longer.

Her husband enters the bedroom apologetically, “There was a shooting in the mall we were just at. I might have to go to work, I’m sorry.”

Rolling over, she pulls the covers off and glances at the time; it’s only been 20 minutes since they arrived home.

Padding down the stairs, the baby is crying and the TV is on full blast, she feels more annoyed. “What happened?” she huffs as she walks into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water that is sitting on the counter.

“They say it was a robbery,” he responds.

Her husband receives the phone call, yes he has to go to work, which leaves her to set up for guests arriving, none of whom she knows and play hostess on less than four hours of sleep.

The house is prepared; food is set out, the beer is the cooler, the doors are open wide to let air in and her kids are running around outside.

 “Do you think anyone will come?” she asks.

“I sent an e-mail explaining that I had to bail out, but people were still welcome to come.”

This was not the answer she wanted to hear. She relied on her husband in social situations, how could he expect her to host a party without him? Her annoyance level increased as he walked out the door and drove off. She could see dark clouds in the distance, maybe there will be another storm; the weather has been so dreary since she arrived.

The kids are happy in the yard and it’s now 30 minutes past the posted start time of her Welcome Party, an appropriate time to pour a glass of wine and check the news online as no one has arrived yet, perhaps no one will come. The police are asking people to stay away from the mall and the Embassy has sent an urgent message asking people to shelter in place. The knot in her stomach is growing, but not from the fear of hosting a social gathering; the news coming out of the mall is that terrorists have taken over and have hostages.

She looks out the window to watch the dark clouds roll in and spies her first guest, on his cell phone, holding a bottle of wine. He has a little girl in tow, must be the neighbor from across the street. The kids run through the house screaming excitedly.

Throughout the evening more guests come in and out of the house, welcoming her to her new home. “Sorry you got here at such a horrible time,” was the typical thing people said. Wandering from one conversation to another, all the talk was about what was happening.

“My co-workers wife was shot, she didn’t make it.”

“I hear there are 20 people in there with guns.”

While most people are being chatty, no one is without their phone, checking the internet, receiving phone calls from worried family members and friends.

Before the end of the party the computer starts making a noise. “I think that’s your Skype,” someone calls to her.

She approaches the computer with a guilty feeling, she wanted to answer and talk, especially since most of the people around were on their phones, but she was host and knew it’d be inappropriate. She ignores the call and sees her guests off.

Once everyone has left and the children are in bed, she walks through the house locking it up and turning on all the lights. Her husband is still at work and doesn’t know when he’ll be home.

Sitting at the computer she reads the news for hours. The longer she reads, the more she can put the timeline of events together; it seems that the sleep she so longed for got them out 10 minutes before gunmen entered the parking lot and started shooting. Her heart is heavy with grief for those who are suffering inside the mall and out.

She turns out the lights and walks up the stairs; it feels like a hike up a mountain, the events of the day have left her exhausted.

After checking on each kid and giving them a kiss she checks her phone, her husband called to say he would be coming home around 2 a.m., it’s only 10 p.m.  She sinks into her bed, letting the day’s events run through her mind as she falls asleep, the fan in the background and a light breeze blowing through the window.

She wakes with a start, it’s her phone ringing. Her husband is locked out of the house. “I’m in the backyard, can you let me in?”

Walking into the backyard she notices that it rained while she slept. The air is fresh and cool and everything in the yard is damp. The wind blows her hair gently. Her husband looks up from his phone, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she says looking down at her pajamas and  sits down on a chair near him.

He lights a cigarette, the first she’s seen him smoke in over a year. “There will be a meeting tomorrow to determine if we will become a voluntary evacuation post.”

She gives him a serious look, “I won’t leave.”

“I didn’t think so, I just wanted you to know,” he says. “I have to go back in early tomorrow.”

Knowingly, she stands up and walks up the dark stairs.

 As he settles into bed he pulls her close, hugs her tight and kisses her head.

Lying in his arms, she forgets the anger she’d felt earlier in the day over her lack of sleep. They fall asleep, thankful to be alive and together.

This essay was written just after the event. With an educated timeline, we now know we left the mall at least 45 minutes to an hour before the attack happened. 

Below you will see a picture taken from our house of the mall burning and also a picture of the book our son made for himself. He was 6 at the time and I decided I'd rather have him home until everything was resolved, he took it upon himself to make a picture book out of the stories he was hearing.

View from our guest room. The siege was 4 days...

Finn is a smart boy and this is what he came up with to deal with what he was hearing and feeling

Camel Derby, Maralal, Samburu, Kenya

My lovely husband has taken to my new job as the post newsletter editor and CLO admin, so much so that he provided a story of our most recent adventure here in Kenya...This is the unedited version. Enjoy :)


Even before moving to Kenya, I had heard about an annual camel race in Maralal, a sun-baked, dusty outpost in the Northern Frontier District. It sounded, fun, exotic, and sightly preposterous. I decided I would check it out if I got the chance. 

There was virtually no information about the 2014 edition of the race. I wasn't even sure it was going to happen until a week before, when finally an inn-keeper in Maralal confirmed the dates for me through e-mail. It  wasn't much to go on, but I didn't care. I was somehow able to convince my long-suffering wife to agree to the trip, and on Aug. 29 we piled our four kids into the car to make the five and half hour journey north to Maralal.

It was a nice, smooth ride for about four hours, until we passed Nyahururu and the tarmac road abruptly ended. We kept bouncing down the dirt road for a while, and then - to my great surprise, considering we were in one of the most drought-stricken areas of Kenya - the skies opened up and started dumping rain on us. Although there were only about four other vehicles on the whole 150 km stretch of road, they all immediately got stuck in the mud. On a single-lane road, that's a problem. Everybody got themselves unstuck eventually, but the delay cost us a couple of hours and we didn't roll into Maralal until it was almost dark. I then made the rookie mistake of asking a random Boda Boda driver if he knew the way to our campsite. He led us on a wild tour of seemingly every corner of Maralal, before finally admitting defeat and puttering away in the rain. Somehow, we finally found the campsite and pitched our tent. That night at about 2 AM, in the cold and rain, with my 1-year-old boy screaming his head off in the tent, my wife looked at me with pure hate and said "I am never going $#&@ camping ever again!" It was a real family bonding moment.

In the morning we got up early and drove down to the actual site of the camel derby. I still had no idea what to expect. What I found was a poop-strewn enclosure with about two dozen filthy camels and about the same number of nervous looking expats who were all probably having the same second-thoughts I was. Yet, insanely, we all agreed to pay 5000 shillings for the privilege of humiliating ourselves in the 10 KM race. Having never ridden a camel or spent any time around these beasts, I was a little put off by how irritable and mean-tempered they seemed. Plus, the sounds they were making were horrific, kind of like gargling and vomiting at the same time. Nevertheless, I mounted up and we were led over to the starting line.

By this point a good portion of Maralal town had come out to watch. Most folks were in their traditional Samburu outfits - big beaded necklaces on the ladies, bright cloaks and daggers on the guys. They seemed to be getting a big kick out of watching us try to control our unruly camels. The governor of Samburu appeared, and gave a little speech for the TV cameras. Then he started to give a dramatic countdown: 10, 9, 8 . . .  But before he got past 7 all the camels erupted across the starting line in a wild, grunting stampede. 

I didn't know what I was doing but I figured if I just held on tight I would do okay. Plus, every camel rider also had a young guy running behind him swatting the camel's behind with a stick to get him to go faster. Truthfully, these guys were the only athletes in the race, since they had to run the whole 10km.

After a few kilometers, me and my camel were starting to get into a nice rhythm. I decided to stand up in the stirrups the whole way, instead of sitting in the saddle and having my butt and other important areas smashed to bits. This seemed to work pretty well, and we started gaining speed. At first, I only entered the race for the novelty of it, but suddenly the thought popped into my head: "I can win this God-damned camel derby!"  

We passed through the center of Maralal town where people on the streets watched us pass by with only the faintest interest. "Oh, it's that time of year again when stupid Wazungus ride through town on camels."

As we rounded the town traffic circle and came out on a long straight-away heading for the finish line, I was feeling confident. There were two camels ahead of me, but I thought I had a chance of catching them. But then my camel started to tucker out. I called out to a bunch of school kids sitting by the side of the road to come help. They came running over shouting encouragement and my camel started to perk back up. For the next couple of kilometers I ran with an entourage of about 20 kids, plus a guy on a motorcycle constantly beeping his horn to inspire us (or maybe just to be a jerk).

I was getting close to the finish line, but by this point I could tell that the two camels ahead of me were too far off to catch. "Well," I thought, "I'm still in medal contention." Third place would still be pretty good. But just then a riderless camel came galloping past me on the left-hand side. It was really moving fast. I was wondering what had become of the rider when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a motorcycle come roaring up with an expat woman on the seat behind the driver. She had a race bib safety-pinned to her shirt, meaning she was one of the contestants. It was the old switcheroo - she had dismounted way back at KM 2 and was planning to jump back on just before the finish line. 

I was calling her every filthy name in the book to no avail, but luckily when the motorcycle pulled over and she tried to re-mount her camel, it refused to move. Good sportsman, that camel!

So now third place seemed right within my grasp. I was in the home-stretch. I could hear the roar of the crowd as the finish line grew closer. I was almost there, but behind me I could hear another rider on my heels, gaining fast. We were neck and neck for a moment. It was a duel. I shouted encouragement into my camel's ear and we seemed to pull ahead. I looked over and saw my wife and kids on the sidelines, faces beaming as my moment of glory approached. The finish line was there . . . 

And then my camel decided to stop moving. I screamed, pleaded, and cried, but nothing worked. He just stood there as the rider who had been behind us came rushing past and crossed the finish line to a huge roar of applause. I couldn't believe it. I had come so close!  Eventually, some dude grabbed the reigns and dragged my camel across the finish line. No one seemed to notice. Bummer.

Ultimately, of course, I could give two craps that I didn't win the race. It was a lot of fun regardless, and something I'll always remember. If you are interested in participating in the Maralal Camel Derby, start searching for info next year around July. The derby almost always takes place in mid-late August. Even if you only go to watch and not participate, it's still worth it. Samburu culture is fascinating, and the landscape around that part of Kenya is incredible. 

Camels don't seem to like having riders, but Maggie didn't care, she was riding that thing!

Our 4th place daddy!

As the sky's opened up.

Thanksgiving Trip 2013

I've been in Nairobi 3 months now, it really feels like a whole lot longer than 3 months, but that's all. While I've been here we haven't done as much exploring as we did in Laos, but it appears that we are going to make deadly road trips a Thanksgiving tradition. If I were high speed, you'd be all in the know about our deadly road trip we took up North to the communist caves in Laos, but, well as you are aware, I am LAZY and did not blog on that trip, but it was epic and I feel awful for not rehashing the stories of vomit and kids falling into ancient jars in field littered with land mines...

Anyhoo, lets get back to this Thanksgiving trip- the week before Christmas, because in case you missed it, I'm lazy and forget to keep up with my blog.

"Driving? You're driving?" Is the question we kept getting. Yes, us crazy Pryor's drove to the coast. Why is it crazy, let me tell you..In our first 20 minutes of driving a car slammed into the back of a truck, causing Mike to utilize his defensive driving skills to maneuver around flying car bits; through the whole trip he also had to overtake ( a way better word than passing) trucks going no more than 20 mph on a two lane highway, which in some cases had us on the side of the road trying not to spin out. While the drive was less than desirable...I MISS MY Sequoia! The trip is definitely to be remembered.

First we stopped in Mombasa for work, which wasn't bad, especially since this work trip I knew what I was capable of- pool all day with movies in the afternoon and a nice dinner at the hotel once work was finished. Really! Because if Bangkok taught me one thing, it was: don't over do it alone. I barely have enough patience at home to deal with the kids alone, but throw me into an unknown city that is possibly unsafe...meh I totally don't feel guilty. The kids had fun playing games swimming and Tess is now convinced her swimming costume is a ballet uniform.

From Mombasa we took our real vacation at Tiwi beach in lovely little cottages at Sand Island. Now that was awesome. We had our own cottage and our own food, plus the beach was pretty perfect for our family. With a sand bar separating the beach and the ocean waves with a shallow pool of warm water, allowing for non swimmers to swim freely and parents to read books while a fed baby slept in his tent... Yes, it was amazing, and a real vacation, even with 4 kids!

So while the drive wasn't the best to the beach, it was totally worth it. Enjoy some photos!

At the hotel in Mombasa

Don't be fooled by the fact that I grew him for 9 months and gave birth...he is HER baby.

At Tiwi Beach

And somehow there were 4!

While Maggie loved the star fish, Tess couldn't be coursed into loving them too.

And the happy parents of 4! are actually enjoying themselves.

Halloween 2013

We like to do family costumes, and a certain husband likes to make said costumes, in years past this has been a fun project, often times involving my sewing machine, which pretty much only makes an appearance for said projects. 

This year was no different. We decided as a family that we would do Star Wars family costumes. Luke, Hans, Leia, Yoda, and R2D2...I was supposed to be C-3PO, but after realizing the best way to accomplish this costume would be a gold full body suit, that idea was cut...You can thank me for being spared that sight ;)

With the characters chosen all we had to do was collect items to assemble the costumes. Now this is where I find it tricky to do homemade and many arguments took place many nights leading up to Halloween. While Africa, and especially Kenya has a plethora of used clothes, I didn't have the guts to venture out to find specific items on the list and couldn't bring myself to pay full price for items that wouldn't be used again. Items like a vest or Karate top. I wanted to just buy the costumes, but the only costume I was allowed to buy was Yoda.

I ended up buying fabric to make a vest, and Leia costume; and hit the local sports shop for a Karate uniform...One of our kids better become a black belt! When I finally stopped procrastinating and broke out the sewing machine, I remembered there is a problem with the needle and bobbin thingy, broke in February and I don't know anything about sewing machines, especially not enough to fix one.

Taking my sister in law's advice on using a pillow case for Leia, I was able to use my fabric by just folding it in half, cutting a head hole and cinching it with her belt. Super easy. Then came Hans' vest...I cant sew so I just cut a vest then used saftey pins in the back to give it a more vesty look. Done!

Mike made R2D2 out of poster board and a bowl. We knew the costume would be difficult to wear, I did argue for the costume to be made with a pillow case, but it wasn't my project and in the end, Tess wore it most of the night, needing some fixes along the trick-or-treat path. 

The day of Halloween, I guess I felt a bit guilty for opting out of dressing up for yet another Halloween, so I looked up Jedi and Padawan costumes. I basically did the same thing I did for Maggie's Leia costume to make a Padawan costume, so even if I wasn't a specific movie character, I did join in. 

Enough words check out these shots Mike got before the costumes fell apart ;)

Giraffe Centre

Saturday our family made the trek out to the Giraffe Center. I say trek because the center is located in Karen, a suburb of Nairobi. It takes so long to get there and traffic is so bad, it feels as if you've left the city entirely. It's a trip that requires planning and knowing it'll be a whole day. It was a trip we made off the cusp.

After arriving at the center, my feelings of making a day out of the trip to Karen was solidified. While it wasn't expensive to get in, there was not much to do after we fed the one giraffe who was being greedy and listening to the talk about what the center does. All in all, it was about a 30-minute activity.

The talk was good to listen to, the center is focusing on breeding a certain species of giraffe that has been endangered due to the development of the country; the Rothschild Giraffe. These giraffes are very pretty, except for their yucky looking tongue.

Tess feeding the giraffe.

Because it takes so long to get out there and very near by is the Kazuri! Bead Factory, we decided to take the kids out there, I'd been once and wanted to take Maggie to see how the beads were made and to pick out a necklace of her own. Once we arrived though, it was clear that only the shop was open and the factory wasn't in operation. Total bummer, I feel it took the significance away and the kids were not on their best behavior in the store. 

Next time, if there is a next time...We will be making a full day out of Karen, hitting some other spots that are popular to include the Jolly Roger theme park, which was closed to the public Saturday for a private function.

Want to learn more about what The Giraffe Center does? http://giraffecenter.org/

Culture Shock revisited

It's been a month since I arrived to my new home in Nairobi and I have to say I feel pretty good, maybe it's the sleep Baby Ty has been allowing me to get at night, or maybe it's the area we are living in, or maybe it's from having a better idea of what's important to me when I get to a place.

Many people might remember my blog post I wrote after spending some time in Laos, It's my culture shock and I'll cry if I want to. It was difficult to get into the swing of things, especially with a newborn so most would call us crazy for doing the exact same thing again, only this time we split up and the older kids came over a month before me and the baby. Tess was a pretty great baby, but she kept me up most nights affording me time to Facebook stalk all my friends who were 12 or 14 hours behind me. Ty is polite enough to sleep until 20 minutes before my alarm goes off, so I am a pretty well rested new mom of 4!

Four kids! It's crazy around here some days, so I am really thankful to be living on a large compound with lots of other families and very close to a playground and pool! It make my life 10 times easier to be able to tell the kids get out and go play! While Nairobi is considered a high crime place, and I don't expect to be letting my guard down, it's nice to be able to have the kids ride bike and socialize with their friends while i get to chat with other adults.

While we were living in Laos we didn't quite get into a good rhythm for getting out and socializing without the kids, so we agreed that it was pretty important to find someone who we felt comfortable with and wouldn't have a problem staying with the kids.

Having a reliable person in the house was also pretty important to me because I've finally decided to finish school. With a new baby at home school work can get tricky, but having someone to help with him will be very important.

It wasn't the smoothest of landings; having a terrorist attack occur 4 days after arriving and my husband having to work crazy long hours, all the kids out of school when Ty and I were jetlagged and a moody housekeeper banging around the house. It feels like we might be finding our normal and that's good.

I can't put my finger on the exact thing that has left me feeling good, but I can say it's great to be able to experience the honeymoon phase of culture shock and I hope it lasts for the next 2 year ;)

Time to put that baby on and GET OUT THERE!

Hell's Gate National Park

As I mentioned before we have our first visitor. She was serving in the Peace Corps in Southern Africa and just recently did a big Safari with her parents, so Mike had to figure out a good out of the city activity. Originally we would've liked to go to the coast, but after the Westgate Mall attack a travel restriction was put on people working at the Embassy. The restriction has since been lifted, but it was too late of notice for us to get our act together. No safari and no beach, what else could we do with little time and kind of off the cusp...Camping!

Mike took the kids camping while Ty and I were still in the states, then again this weekend with Finn's Tiger Scout Den, so he was pretty knowledgeable on a  place, what to bring, what we could do without etc. So we grabbed up a few things and headed to Hell's Gate National Park, about an hour and a half drive out of Nairobi, with an awesome view of the Rift Valley about half way through.

Hell's Gate was originally named valley where lots of people died because a volcano erupted in the 1600's killing lots of people, but the first settlers who used the area to transport goods from Tanzania decided Hell's Gate sounded better.

In this national park there are tons of animals, but we are told no big predators, so we got to see lots and lots of Zebras, Impalas, Hartebeest, and even Warthogs, which I might add totally run like Pumba from The Lion King and it is too freaking CUTE! 

When we got to the park we had a nice picnic and watched the animals down below living the high life of not being hunted.

After our picnic, we went over to a gorge for a little hiking. Mike didn't tell me until we paid our guide that it might be a little steep with some parts making us lower ourselves down off high rocks. Probably a good thing because I doubt I would've tagged along for this one had I known what I would be doing and that my legs would still be hurting 2 days later!

Climbing down a particularly steep part of the gorge, wearing Ty.

Yes, I just did that. What a trooper little man is!

Always  good day when you get to see a tiny monkey, especially when he's not stealing anything ;)

Climbing girl

I like to call this "Doing it Pryor style" in other words something not suitable for children.

View from the bottom of the gorge

One of the many HUGE pieces of obsidian Maggie found. No, we didn't keep it, it's not allowed.

ZEBRA!

After a long hike we headed over to a natural hot spring that is being turned into pools for visitors of the park. Even though it was open the day before, it was closed for cleaning when we popped in, but Mike wasn't giving up, he was swimming. So he and the kids jumped into a pool that wasn't quite open to the public after being given permission from the manager of the building crew on site.

After Tess nearly drowned in a sulfur pool, we decided it was time to get to our campsite and relax a little. I slept pretty well on a bed in a room while Mike and the older kids slept in our tent. Ty did awesome and slept pretty much through the night, and didn't wake our visitor, which was what I feared.

The kids goofing off.

It was a seriously quick trip. Once we finished our breakfast we headed back into Nairobi. On our way home a lost Giraffe found his way onto the road we were driving on. While the park we were in was not controlled too much, some of the animals were kind of gated off from others to keep from spreading disease, so to find this guy wondering around was so strange that even the Kenyans about were shocked and staring!

Our morning traffic jam.

ISO (In Search of): My SH**!

We have our first visitor arriving tomorrow so I've been tasked to get the guest room ready. No problem, let me take out our sheets, and oh the bathroom needs a shower curtain and towels...where are these things?

Between Mike moving in and receiving multiple shipments before I got here, changing house keepers and 3 kids constantly taking things out and moving them it's become a daily exercise to find things around here.

Yesterday:

Getting out of the shower, I spent about 10 minutes opening drawers and closets looking for my jeans. I finally gave up and put on yoga pants for the day. Turns out they were with Mike's suits, you know to go with trousers.

Finn had P.E. at school, it took 10 minutes to find his uniform in Ty's dresser, in my room.

Making empanadas, I searched the entire kitchen for my rolling pin to roll out the dough. I Gave up and used a bottle of vodka instead. Still haven't found the rolling pin.

Where is.... has become a more common question, than the usual lazy kid go-to. Mike and I are calling out over and over: have you seen... where is... I can't find... didn't I send....

Even with the frustration of looking for stuff, I've decided that I will have some excuse to not be present when our shipments come in because Mike did a fantastic job setting up the house. Our house in Laos was an example of just how bad at unpacking I am, we had an entire room full of junk that I just didn't know what to do with. Every surface in the house was covered in stuff too, so even if I can't find anything, at least I'm not embarrassed when kids at the playground need to use a toilet and I send the mom's to my house.

Welcome to Nairobi

Maybe you've heard of Nairobi, possibly a lot more lately due to two HUGE things happening in the past few months, but before I get into all that, I am going to start off with us still being in Laos, because that's where a lot of our biggest decisions had to be made to end up here in Nairobi.

Firstly our initial 2nd posting in the Foreign Service was supposed to be Accra, Ghana, but things changed and we had a list of 4 places we could go. Because we lost our post, we figured we'd get our first choice, and we did! Nairobi, Kenya.

While we were still in Laos, and after we found out we would be going to Kenya and how all the timing would work we found out I was pregnant with baby number 4, so everything we had planned had to be changed, in big ways. Instead of selling our car that we couldn't take to Nairobi ,we would ship our car back to The States. Instead of all flying to Nairobi in June, Mike and I would part ways for the summer (2 months in case you were wondering) and with the help of my older brother I'd drive across the U.S. to spend the summer in Arizona with my family waiting to have baby number 4. After baby number 4 was born Mike and the three older children would fly to Kenya, alone, so they could attend school and I would fly to Kenya at a later date. With a few bumps in the road, this all happened.

The kids and I didn't have the BEST summer, but it was nice. Both older kids got to go to summer camp, while Tess and I puttered about. It's nice to have a 2 year old who operates at the same pace as a 8-month pregnant lady, afternoon naps were a must for us both! I have to admit that I wasn't at my best this summer, with lots of yelling, T.V. watching and McDonald's eating, Mike couldn't come home soon enough.

The two weeks we go to spend together were fantastic! It was the summer I had in-visioned when I decided to go back to Tucson in the first place. Two weeks was just too short in my book, but I knew it was all we had so we made the best of it until Mike and the kids had to leave just a week after the baby was born.

Tess looks skeptical, but she is the happiest of them all.

Now we get back to the news that some people may have heard back in August. The International Airport in Nairobi, Kenya caught fire and through chaos, most of the international terminal burned down. Holy panic attack! Mike and the kids were supposed to fly into said burned down airport in just 1 week! Most women who've had a baby know it can be a total roller coaster of emotions and I was a hot mess. Panicking about how Mike would handle flying with all 3 kids, getting through an airport that was operating at less than 100% and not to mention be a geographically-working-single dad! You'd think I was having to do all that with how much I stressed about it. He really makes it seem like it was no big deal, but that's just because he's cool like that. I know it was very trying and couldn't be happier with my choice of husband/father to my kids! I'm sure if he had to do it over again, he would.

So, Ty, baby number 4, and I stayed in Arizona for 6 excruciatingly long weeks. Thanks to a few friends and mostly my mom and some other family, we got through it and even got all of our paperwork done with only 1 emotional crying fit to Mike and the wonderful nurses at the State Department.

With all the paperwork done, and Ty and me both cleared to fly, we jumped at our chance and arrived less than 2 weeks ago. A few days after I arrived Mike, in all his awesomeness, planned a welcome party for us to give me an opportunity to meet some people we'd be with for the next 2 years. It was planned for Saturday, September 21, early afternoon...

Now that brings us to the news lately. I imagine most people have heard at least a blurb about a shopping mall attack in Nairobi where 62 people were killed, scores more injured and a days long siege took place.

The shopping mall was named Westgate and Mike had told me we should go to this particular mall to get some grocery shopping done, because it was a bigger shop and had more of what I might be looking for. Now keep in mind, I've been in Nairobi 4 days and am extremely sleep deprived, you know new baby and jet lag, they don't mix all that well. We arrived at the mall late in the morning and got our shopping done, but after about an hour of wondering and feeling like I wasn't finding anything or feeling completely out of it, I asked Mike to just take me home. While I waited, somewhat seething, in the car while he ran back in for Ice, I watched the set up of a cooking demonstration. after waiting 15 minutes my anger was boiling over, but he finally came back and we headed home. Just after arriving back Mike started receiving phone calls about a shooting at the mall we were just at. Continuing to set up for our party, we monitored the news and he continued to get texts, emails and calls about what was really happening in the mall. Because of this, he ended up having to go to work and I hosted my own welcome party with the spouses of the officers who work with Mike. It was very nice that people still ended up coming and it was nice to be able to chat about what was going on with other people, especially since I knew no one here and would've ended up being alone during all of it.

Many people have commented about how unlucky I am to have just arrived and had this tragic attack take place, but I honestly feel lucky. Lucky to have left when we did, obviously, but more lucky and grateful that I was here to support my husband and more importantly to be here for my kids, one of whom is very well aware of what happened. No, I don't think they would've been at that mall that Saturday of the attack if I wasn't here, but it still would've happened and I wouldn't be here to take over the house while daddy had to work crazy long days.

In the end, I still feel panicky going into places here and leaving the house, but I know I have to continue to get to know Nairobi and not let these awful events rule the next 2 years of my life.

What happened over the past YEAR!

We moved to Nairobi and oh yeah, had a new baby!

Let's take a look back a little to see what you all missed:

A totally rockin' Halloween, where I convinced Mike he had to wear tights for yet another Halloween costume party:

Meet the Thundercats!

A very eventful car trip through Northern Laos in which most of our family got sick in our car...YUCK. 

F T and M at the Plain of Jars

We took one last trip to Ngam Ngum Reservoir and Vang Vieng with one of our favorite Laos family friends:

After a long weekend riding in boats and tubing down rivers

Then we had a totally awesome farewell party to say good-bye to a wonderful bunch of friends where Mike ended up like this:

no caption needed ;)

We will miss Laos forever:

Then we went back to the U.S. where we took a road trip in an R.V. across the Southwest:

Notice the look of what have I gotten myself into...

Mike and I took a honeymoon after 7-years of marriage:

Bumming it in Curacao

We returned to D.C for a short time before Mike and I split for the summer:

My brother and I spent 3 days driving across the U.S with my 3 kids while I was 7 1/2 months pregnant and Mike flew to Nairobi, Kenya to start his new job.

I was reacquainted with Summer in Tucson

The kids got to go to an American summer camp and play for 2 months with my youngest brother until Mike returned:

Welcome back to our crazy!

We had a new baby:

Meet baby Ty!

A week after baby Ty was born Mike flew to Kenya with the big kids:

Watch out Nairobi, the Pryor kids are taking over

Ty and I were reunited with our loves a month later:

And that was our last year leading up to two big changes!

Little girl Lost

Last night I experienced the longest 30 minutes of my life. Maggie disappeared from the local park; like we couldn’t find her anywhere. Imagine losing your kid in the States, where you speak the language. Now imagine losing your kid in a country that you do not speak the language. Here’s the story:

After dinner at a pizza restaurant we decided to take the kids to the local playground. The playground is in a park -Chou Anouavong Park- that spans about a mile, from a historical Statue, King Chou Anouavong, to the end of the night market, which has grown immensely since we arrived last year. As usual in the evenings the park was buzzing. Aerobics class was being held on the steps, the playground was full of Lao children and the night market was hopping, even for it being down season.

Mike asked if we could go sit on the grass, I told him I wasn’t all that comfortable leaving the kids on the playground without being able to see them, it was hard enough standing in the middle of all the kids, I doubted I’d be much of a conversationalist with my eyes darting all over trying to keep track of the kids. Tess was clingy and Mike said it was a perfect opportunity to sit, so I made a point to tell Maggie and Finn that we’d be sitting in the grass; which was not more than 30 feet from where she was standing. Mike had been out of town all weekend, so it is nice to have the kids entertained while we get a chance to talk a little without constant interruption.

Sitting in the grass, I have eyes on Finn and Tess is wadling about near us, I tell Mike, “I don’t see Maggie.” “I see her she’s by the slide. Oh there she is. I see her look over in our direction, but we don’t make eye contact. I wave, but she doesn’t see me and goes up the stairs. I have a fleeting thought that she might be overwhelmed with so many kids, but as she walks up the stairs, Mike and I comment about the way she carries herself now. Her mannerisms are those of a confident teenager. After a little bit, Tess was antsy about going to the playground, so I go with her. I see Finn, but I don’t see Maggie. My heart beat picks up a bit, but I try not to fret, she’s probably in one of the 4 play structures. After a minute I see Finn, but still no Maggie. I scoop Tess up and walk frantically calmly from structure to structure looking, not quite to the screaming of her name point, but I can feel it, she’s not here.

Mike walks over and I angrily tell him “I can’t find Maggie!” Woah, so am I mad at him? I shouldn’t be, yet I want to be. It’s not time to panic yet, do another sweep of the area. Nope, no Maggie.

I grab Finn and head straight to the Night Market, where the toilets are. Maybe she went there? Nope. We wander through half of the market looking, at this point I am calling for her and the tears are bubbling. Mike calls…No Maggie.

We meet at the playground and decide to split again, at least Mike can ask people in Lao if they saw Maggie, try being me, asking lots of people if they saw my little girl with brownish blond hair wearing a rust colored dress. Lots of blank stares, while I can usually grasp what someone is saying to me, I have no idea how to tell someone I lost my little girl…bah whoo louk sow is what I kept saying, which to me means I don’t know my daughter. .. One woman told Mike she walked in the direction of the statue. So I go that way, Mike heads back toward the market. I get nothing on my end. Mike calls me to tell me he’s called the RSO…The crying really begins. It must be more serious if we have to call in our security officer and WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT!

Calmly Mike tells me not to get worked up, she’s probably wandered off and someone has scooped her up and is keeping her somewhere till it can be figured out how to link her back with us.

I’m not buying it. I’ve seen the Save the Children’s ads: Stop child sex tourism. My mind is going full steam. This is my “imagine the absolute worst and it won’t happen” brain coming out. Now I will note these negative thoughts completely go against how I feel about living here in Laos, it’s safe. I let Finn and Maggie walk, alone, down the street to buy ice creams, or dare I say it, BEER. The kids and families all know us by now. They definitely know not to call Maggie “falang” (really means French, but any foreign person is labeled this), her name is Maggie and she will not speak to or look at you if you call her anything but Maggie.

I so desperately want to blame Mike, or even Finn. Finn how could you not be watching her, but he’s obviously scared. Mom’s crying and we’re looking for Maggie. Don’t lash out at anyone, just keep looking. His feet were hurting, but he knew not to say anything, he just cried with me as we decide to check the car, but after we cross the street, I realize there’s no way Maggie would’ve tried to cross this.

So we head back and I get the call… “I don’t have her but someone does.” Oh thank god!

A couple who were eating dinner at the same restaurant as us was flagged down by a Lao woman and her two children. They recognized Maggie and said that yes, she was at the park with her parents. So they exchange numbers, she keeps Maggie while the couple rush to the playground to find one of us. She was being protective and didn’t want to give her up to just anyone. While it is completely normal for a Lao kid Maggie’s age, or younger to be wandering around without a parent, it is completely abnormal for a “falang” kid to wandering around without a parent. That’s why Mike knew, she is with someone. Although, he’s a bit baffled by the fact that she wasn’t walked back to the playground. Kid wandering around crying, near a playground…you know.

You see, I say this was the longest 30 minutes of my life, but Maggie was actually gone for closer to 40 minutes. That moment when I felt she was overwhelmed on the playground, she went down the slide then wandered off to find us.

In the States, I gave Finn quite a bit of independence. He’d go to the lobby of our apartment building and check the mail, he’d run to the apartment playground a few minutes ahead of me, I’d let him use a public toilet on his own. He’s a drive by pee-er. He’s the kid mom’s dislike when it comes to cleaning toilets (which is why he cleans them). I know it’s 20 seconds tops that he should be in a bathroom, anymore than that and I’m in there. I judge a situation and usually feel pretty confident on my decision based on the situation.

Last night, I probably should’ve listened to my gut a little more than I was; and made a point to show Finn and Maggie exactly where we were, instead of being general about it…over in the grass. I felt that Maggie wasn’t comfortable BUT I had confidence that my kids knew what to do. Maggie had done the wrong thing by wandering off, and this was a good example to us as to why the name game and I’m lost speech only go so far when we are not in the land of security guards and PA systems.

Ever since the kids could start talking I told them about stranger danger, and what to say in the event they do become lost. In most places we designate a go here if you get lost spot. Maggie did most of  this. She said her name and who her parents are. She told them she was an American and she was 3.

In the end, now I know 1. Tell the kids if we leave them in a place and you don’t see us, stay there, we aren’t leaving without you; something close to never leave without telling us, which they know, but what if they are looking for us. 2. Make it perfectly clear where we will be, in case they do need to find us.

There are some people who don’t support my independence pushing parenting style, I can appreciate comments and concern for this; and it’s my choice on what to do with such comments and concern. I certainly don’t begrudge anyone for their opinions of my parenting, because I have my own. This experience won’t stop me from allowing the kids to play solo, I wasn’t a hovering mom before, I won’t be now.

A big thanks to Ann, the woman who kept Maggie safe, and calmed her down. And to our RSO who started calling in our Local guard force and police to come help us look.