The first thing that impressed me about the Kenyan chicken farmers was that even though I wasn’t interested in buying a chicken, they still sat me down inside their tumbledown shack and offered a cup of tea. The second thing was that even though these men were just scraping by, selling eggs and corn on the streets of the second-biggest slum in Nairobi, one of them had an email address, and he made me promise to email him pictures of each of his friends holding up their prize chickens. I was so late in getting back to the Mercy Care School that the worried principal almost sent his teachers out into the slums looking for me. Although I felt embarrassed by the concern over my safety, I also knew that I needed to experience more of Africa than I would while on safari, even if I presently stood out as the only white man within ten square miles.