First off, this dump is the largest in Nairobi, and thus, the largest in Kenya. Make no mistake. It is disgusting. And when it rains (actually, even when it doesn't rain, the rain just exacerbates everything), the whole place becomes a huge mushy soup of sorts. And it was pouring yesterday.

We were informed that the people living/working at the dump claim certain areas, so when the trucks come, they pay the drivers to drop the contents off in their section, depending upon the area of the city from which it's coming. For example, the trucks from the airport are the most highly coveted, since they assume all the rich passengers are dropping off the good stuff. The trucks from Kibera and other slums are the least preferred. When we got there, a truck was delivering the contents of one of these coveted trucks from the airport. It was amazing - like a sea of mini Baileys bottles, discarded peanut wrappings, Msafari magazines, Kenya airway cups, meal packaging, etc., etc. So anyway, people were combing through this stuff. And not just adults - kids were also helping out.

The smell. I cannot understate how hard it hits you. After awhile, you sort of get accustomed to it, but in the beginning, it's rough. You feel like getting that dead body smell prevention paste that they used in Silence of the Lambs.

You are climbing, scrambling, and almost mountain hiking up the enormous piles of trash. At one point, I offered to take a guy's picture and as I was backing up, was told by our guide, "Stop!" Apparently, some mzungu two weeks ago had fallen into the sludge up to his chest. I accidentally splashed some of the fetid water on the back of my leg and was already mentally try to recall whether I'd gotten all my Hepatitis shots, so I don't know how he managed. I've often thought in these situations that the American reality shows that seem so intense in the US, like Jackass, Survivor, the Amazing Race, etc., are absolutely nothing compared to everyday life in many parts of the developing world. Picture a guy digging through trash all day at this dump, or cleaning out toilets in Kibera thinking that a bunch of rich American 20-sometimes are taking "challenges" in the jungle. Like a ropes obstacle course. Um, ok, pansies. Set Survivor in Mogadishu and the reward if you get out, is um, your life. Hahaha. I have so many great ideas that have yet to be realized.

I finally discovered where pigs in Kenya live. You can get pork lots of places but you don't see pigs running around very often. Well, they live at the dump, in a pig sty. And after about 30 minutes of being here, some guy released the pigs to run around and eat the trash. We were told that Farmer's Choice (biggest meat distributor here) gets most of their pork from the dumps. And then I witnessed horrific acts of pigs gone wild. I am still disturbed by it (yes, Fay Co. friends, I realize that these things happen but I've never seen it like this before). So I simply cannot speak of it. Of course, the funny part was that as I was photographing the whole crime scene unfolding, the dump-dwellers were all laughing at me. Crazy mzungu watching pigs go at it. Just like staring at a train wreck, I tell you. This can be applied to either me or the pigs, for the record.

Let's see, so back to the other stuff. I was completely enthralled by some guys I saw playing pool in a little lean-to. They had found an old pool table, balls, sticks one day, and as one told me, it was a "gift from God." So now they seem to play quite a bit of pool. I don't think they've had the table long (and thus, much time to practice) because halfway through the game, I asked where the black one was they said it already went in. And one guy kept hitting the white one off the table, but still, not bad. I was impressed. Still play better than I do.

So many kids working in the dump-sorting, sifting, etc. And talk about hazardous conditions. They have no gloves, many are wearing flip flops barely held together, and they are required to dig around in this crap to find pieces of plastic and electrical wiring. It breaks my heart. I really wanted to just take a few of these kids home, and I don't even like children. To be a 10 year old kid, and spending your days working in these types of conditions, well, I don't know what else to say about that. One kid's name was Kevin, like my brother, and I told him that. He smiled. And then went back to digging around in the sludge.

Lots of maribou storks, which if you've never seen one, is a gigantic bird half as tall as a human, and when it flies, it sounds like an airplane taking off. "Whoosh, whoosh!" When a bunch of them are in the air, it looks like the Wizard of Oz scene with all the flying monkeys. And they compete with the guys in the dump in terms of scavenging. If they were aggressive, that would be bad news bears.

Saw some puppies in one of the little shacks. I was worried about where the mother was, and the guide told me, "Don't worry, they don't bite. They know that if they do, they are beaten to death." He smiled brightly. Oh wow. Things did just get real.

Ended it all by photographing a woman in a Santa Claus hat. Unlike in the West, where these hats are fun to wear to your ugly sweater Christmas party or to pair with your favorite skimpy outfit in December to pick up guys at a bar, here they are actually used. I've seen several people in the slums wearing them, completely without irony.

The sub-culture of the dump is absolutely fascinating. The hierarchy, the mafia-like control structure, the fact that people are both working and LIVING here, the fact that they are sifting through all the things we throw out mindlessly every day. In the West, for the most part, the dump is just inhabited by heavy machinery. Here, people are responsible for dealing with it. And it's personal. And to think of the things that we throw out without thinking about it are sometimes the things most coveted by people. This dump was one of the most interesting places I've been in Kenya.

So after this adventure, I had my first shoe cleaning experience in Nairobi. Immediately went to a shoe cleaner in downtown Nairobi to get this problem sorted. Then returned home and realized that my rain coat still smells like trash. So in the words of Cousin Eddie from Christmas Vacation, "mind if I fumigate this? It's a good quality piece."