Island Dishes: Or How Immodium Saved My Life

First, let me preface this post with a prayer filled outreach to my Swahili professor Rose. On our final day of class, during a celebration with our homestay families, her father unexpectedly passed. Rose was my first Kenyan friend, and my deepest condolences go out to her and her family.
Mombasa. Oh, sweet Mombasa, how I love you. If you have ever seen Aladin, which you have of course, then you have seen a cartoon, non-tropical ideograph of Mombasa. Islam is king here. Women are covered head to toe, separated entirely from the male population, bound to domestic labor; a discussion perhaps better performed in person rather than over this Interweb thingy.
All four boys on the trip were more than privileged to stay with Professor Ahmed Sheik. The man is seriously one of the most influential figures of the 21st century. For God's sake, he came up with the word for email, video, cellphone, television, etc. in Swahili. He invents words!
And then, Island Dishes. A restaurant for 5 meals straight, and, for lack of a more delicate term, the worst diarrhea I have, or ever will experience. As my fluids drained on a toilet for literal hours, I couldn't help but overhear the wonderful city sounds of a town created in the 16th century.
I would love to say more, but my internet is about to expire. I hate to leave it on that note, of all notes, but...I will.
More to Come