On Thursday morning, I (Mer) headed to Marafa, a small village about one hour north west of Watamu. I was heading to meet Furaha, the 10-year-old boy whom Kiki and Zac (my sister and brother-in-law) are sponsoring on my behalf through the organization, World Visions. The sponsorship was a birthday gift from them, and one of the best I’ve ever received. Jessie stayed at the hotel on this day and successfully read Tony Morrison’s, A Mercy cover to cover (which was our last book swap with each other…so once we were out of books, Jessie “borrowed” one from the hotel and accidentally still has it with her to finish it).
Emmanuel, the director of the Murafa division of World Visions, picked me up at the hotel after insisting that we use their 4-wheel drive vehicle rather than have Justus take me in our little rented Toyota. I was glad he insisted because once we got past Malindi and turned off on the dirt roads to Furaha’s homestead, I realized our rental car probably would have not made the 45 min bumpy ride on the dirt roads.
We went first to the World Visions office, which was a very modest building with a main greeting area, which served as the conference room, and five small offices surrounding it. There were eight employees at this division headquarter office. They all came out and we sat and chatted about the organization and they each told me their role; the one woman in the office was in charge of pairing sponsors with kids, and she showed me her office that was stacked floor to ceiling with the 4,000 files of sponsor children. (Just in this division…I can’t remember the exact number of sponsors the organization has throughout Kenya, but it’s quite astounding). The employees in the office work with community groups in each area, and the community groups actually work with the children in social activities, conduct medical exams, and keep up their school records and other things that the organization reports back to the sponsors abroad.
I asked Emmanuel about the breakdown of donations and how much actually goes to the child. He said that only about 10% goes directly to the child – that is for school fees/uniforms and medical costs. About 25% goes to the staff for salaries (which are not huge…all the World Vision employees lived in small hand built homes right around the office). The remainder portion of the donations goes to community development. World Vision has built a permanent structure for the primary school and is in the process of saving for desks for every student. Emmanuel was proud to show me the plans for future growth in the community. It was refreshing that the organization seemed so transparent. After seeing the office and talking with people, I am confident that Kiki and Zac’s monthly sponsorship is money very well spent. Meeting Furaha and his parents also really confirmed this.
After filling out the appropriate paperwork (and wrapping a skirt, provided by the woman working in the office, around my shorts) we hopped back in the truck and headed just about 10 minutes to Furaha’s homestead. I have to say, I was a bit nervous. I was excited to meet the family and see a homestead not propped up for tourists and to see real life in a rural village, but I just felt sort of weird…like I was looking to be thanked by the family or something. I don’t know…I guess I just wasn’t sure what we were going to talk about. Sure, I had a lot of questions I thought would be interesting to ask Furaha and his parents, but I sure didn’t want to go to their home just to spew interview questions at them.
When we pulled up, the entire homestead (extended family living together on land with maybe 6 or 7 mud huts situated together) came walking up, with proud little Furaha and his father leading them. There were maybe 20-25 kids and about 12-15 adults who were there at the time, but quite a few other young men were out herding, I was told. Anyway, Furaha was dressed in his nice button down shirt and slacks, clearly standing out from any of the other kids. He was painfully shy, especially at first, but shook my hand to greet me and whispered “welcome” is Kiswahili.
The family escorted me over to the three chairs that another World Vision worker had set up and we all sat down for a chat. The hoards of children were scurrying behind me, laughing, which had me cracking up. One little girl kept running up close to me and then freaking out a bit when she’d get too close for her comfort and run away. I nearly broke into a fit of laughter with this little one but luckily I recovered. Furaha is studying English in school (he is in grade 2), but knows only a few vocabulary words. His parents do not speak English either, so Emmanuel did a good job translating. The matriarch of the family opened with a prayer and Furaha’s mother and father welcomed me formally and thanked me for the contributions to their family. I thanked them for having me to their home and explained that it was actually my sister and brother-in-law who were sponsoring Furaha and promised to pass their thanks along. They couldn’t get over that and expressed multiple times how they would love to meet Kiki and Zac too.
Anyway, we sat and had some chit chat conversation for only a few minutes—it was quite awkward…I felt like a foreigner for real. All these people were just sort of looking at me and I at them, so I asked Furaha to show me where he slept. He walked me over to the thatched roof mud house in which he and his five siblings slept and was excited to grab his school workbooks to show me. I wondered why the sunlight suddenly stopped coming through the doorway, which was maybe only 4 or so feet high, and I turned around to see about 20 pairs of kids eyes peaking in. Their parents laughed at their interest in me and I was glad I wasn’t the only one to find it a bit comical. Furaha remained shy but flipped through his schoolbooks and read single words to me.
Emmanuel translated the words chocolate and sweets and Furaha, of course, lit up. I passed out starbursts to all the kids, who really liked them, and passed the rest of the treats off to Furaha and told him the rest was his to share. I passed out a few little things I had brought from home and they appreciated them while I was wishing I had brought more (although his dad couldn’t have loved his Obama shirt more and proudly wore it from the moment he opened it). At this point, a group of about 8 kids came up and performed three songs for me…adorable. Furaha wouldn’t get up there with them, but he was keeping the beat on my leg. It was a wonderful little performance (see video when linked up).
After about 40 min., we were ready to go. I gave the family some maize and beans and other dry food we had picked up on our way to thank them for hosting me. They had prepared a meal for me, but Emmanuel politely refused on my behalf saying our time was short and that we had to go (he later told me in the car that of course it’s somewhat rude to deny food someone has prepared for you, but that they generally don’t like visitors eating in homes because all food is prepared with non-treated water and at times the livestock has made tourists sick).
As I stood up to shake hands with Furaha’s parents, his mother got up, went over by the larger mud house, and came back carrying a live chicken upside down and handed me its bound feet. I mean, I grew up in Iowa and spent a lot of time at my aunt and uncle’s turkey farm, but I had no idea how to grab this squawking thing from her! She asked me to accept the gift for their appreciation of the sponsorship and for coming to their village. After refusing food, of course I had to take this gift…I just didn’t quite know how! I found this gift incredibly generous and felt bad taking food from the family, but Emmanuel whispered into my ear that I must take it from her…quickly, so not to be rude. I grabbed the chicken and turned him face up for a photo-op. It was pretty hilarious.
Everyone walked us back to the car, and we said our goodbye’s. Furaha and I exchanged a hug and I promised him I’d work on my Kiswahili and he his English so that we might be able to communicate better in writing in the future. It was truly a wonderful visit and I felt incredibly lucky to have met the family. Sure, it was a bit uncomfortable, especially at first, being this white person going into an African village bearing gifts…it sort of felt like a really bad made for TV movie or something, but I think meeting Furaha and his family was well worth any awkward feelings I may have felt about it. I was glad to see the contributions of this organization at work and, of course, was so thankful for the generous and thoughtful gift from Kiki and Zac.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Continuing up the coast -- To Watamu
(um...these are the two blogs we had written while in Kenya and simply hadn't uploaded...things got a bit hectic once we got back home! If anyone's still interested in hearing about the end of the trip, you can read these entries. Soon, when we focus our thoughts back on Kenya to write our formal write-up for the grant, we will finish our final reflections on the last few days in Kenya and upload them. We are still struck by what an amazing trip we had!)
We arrived late morning to Watamu, along the northern coast of Kenya, ready to see up close and personal how the tourist industry works (read: go into true vacation/lazy mode). When we walked into the lobby and were greeted with eucalyptus towels, fresh juice, coffee, and tea, the idea of staying a fourth night rather than the planned three was already taking root in our minds. The Turtle Bay Hotel was beautiful; our room had a comfy bed, provided drinking water, and a hot shower, had an electric tea pot for morning tea on the balcony and even a/c…we were loving it. The hotel boasted eco-friendliness and marine conservation and we appreciated that as well. They sponsored a project to save endangered sea turtles, offered volunteer trips for hotel guests to help repair schools, planted extra trees to cover their carbon footprint, recycled water they used to keep the lawn up and asked guests to re-use towels (the first place we’d seen that urged that). We made our way down to the pool after grabbing some bitings, as they say in Kenya, from the great all-inclusive buffet and some mimosas from the all-inclusive bar…nice.
At 4pm Justus picked us up to go visit the Gede Ruins – an ancient city from the 15th century (as we write this we wished we had taken notes while the guide spoke though we did record the tour). We had a guide who spoke faster than anyone we’d met in English or Kiswahili. He had a special thing for the toilets and at every part of the ruins, made sure to point out where the sultan relieved himself. He had been a guide there for 7 years and was very knowledgeable, although he did say some contradictory things to what we later read in the museum. What was really cool from the ruins was to see how this ancient village had so many archeological finds from other countries. There were Spanish scissors, Chinese pottery, and Arab architectural influence. In the museum we saw hairpins made from ivory, pots and vases, jewelry, and replicas of original dhows in which they traveled. The place was also full of a new kind of monkey that we hadn’t seen and gorgeous, huge trees. We were impressed with the physical beauty and the historical significance of the ruins.
Unfortunately we were too late to see the Kapepeo Butterfly farm but got to read about it – a project employing local community members to collect butterfly larvae in the local forests. The butterflies that are raised here are shipped out all over the world and the profit from the sale comes back to the community. As we were driving away we saw a local dance group performing traditional dances – there was a small charge to enter. One thing that stands out so far about the coast vs. other areas of Kenya that we have visited thus far is that there is much more effort to include the local community in profiting from tourism. The money earned from many of the local projects and sites come back to the community. While it still might not be supporting the community as people there might like, it was definitely more than any other place we saw.
We arrived late morning to Watamu, along the northern coast of Kenya, ready to see up close and personal how the tourist industry works (read: go into true vacation/lazy mode). When we walked into the lobby and were greeted with eucalyptus towels, fresh juice, coffee, and tea, the idea of staying a fourth night rather than the planned three was already taking root in our minds. The Turtle Bay Hotel was beautiful; our room had a comfy bed, provided drinking water, and a hot shower, had an electric tea pot for morning tea on the balcony and even a/c…we were loving it. The hotel boasted eco-friendliness and marine conservation and we appreciated that as well. They sponsored a project to save endangered sea turtles, offered volunteer trips for hotel guests to help repair schools, planted extra trees to cover their carbon footprint, recycled water they used to keep the lawn up and asked guests to re-use towels (the first place we’d seen that urged that). We made our way down to the pool after grabbing some bitings, as they say in Kenya, from the great all-inclusive buffet and some mimosas from the all-inclusive bar…nice.
At 4pm Justus picked us up to go visit the Gede Ruins – an ancient city from the 15th century (as we write this we wished we had taken notes while the guide spoke though we did record the tour). We had a guide who spoke faster than anyone we’d met in English or Kiswahili. He had a special thing for the toilets and at every part of the ruins, made sure to point out where the sultan relieved himself. He had been a guide there for 7 years and was very knowledgeable, although he did say some contradictory things to what we later read in the museum. What was really cool from the ruins was to see how this ancient village had so many archeological finds from other countries. There were Spanish scissors, Chinese pottery, and Arab architectural influence. In the museum we saw hairpins made from ivory, pots and vases, jewelry, and replicas of original dhows in which they traveled. The place was also full of a new kind of monkey that we hadn’t seen and gorgeous, huge trees. We were impressed with the physical beauty and the historical significance of the ruins.
Unfortunately we were too late to see the Kapepeo Butterfly farm but got to read about it – a project employing local community members to collect butterfly larvae in the local forests. The butterflies that are raised here are shipped out all over the world and the profit from the sale comes back to the community. As we were driving away we saw a local dance group performing traditional dances – there was a small charge to enter. One thing that stands out so far about the coast vs. other areas of Kenya that we have visited thus far is that there is much more effort to include the local community in profiting from tourism. The money earned from many of the local projects and sites come back to the community. While it still might not be supporting the community as people there might like, it was definitely more than any other place we saw.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
August 15-18 - Car Troubles and Mombasa South Coast
Heading East – Tiwi Beach and Ben’s Car Rental, August 15th – 18th
On the morning of the 15th we woke up really early to head east towards the coast south of Mombasa. The trip was to be 6-8 hours depending on traffic and our goal was to be out of the door by 9 a.m. The car that Justus had picked up from Ben’s rental had a back left tire that seemed to wobble and made the whole car shake (we learned this when he picked us up from the Journey show the night before). He got up very early and headed to Ben’s early to get the tire changed and checked out. By the time the tire had been changed it was now 11 a.m. and we were already behind. The tire still did not look or feel right though he assured us we would be fine.
Less than 50 minutes outside of Nairobi the car, which had been shaking, began to really move and Mer heard a metal clanking. When she stuck her head out the window she discovered a completely flat tire. We pulled over slowly, examined the car. We discovered how bad it was when the tire was removed to put on the donut and we saw a huge patch on the inside of this worn and used tire. We called Ben who said he’d check on our options; we waited a long time to hear from him. Meanwhile Mer is calling his boss to demand a new car. She is dialing furiously and shaking with the vengeance of a stalker because the boss refuses to pick up the phone but does manage to text saying he will send money for a tire. We don’t want a new tire; we want a new car. Three hours later one arrives. While a tad bit calmer we are still pretty annoyed and anxious to get our trip started. They show up with a markedly smaller car (we are five people) that has squeaky breaks. We try to argue for a refund (we had paid in full up front so our chances seemed slim) but when Njeri began to be rude to the man the conversation ended and he refused to speak more to us. We got back in the car and headed to Mombasa eager to forget it all.
Two hours later, POP! Another tire is blown, this time the front tire on the left side. Two young men appeared out of nowhere, ran up to the car and began helping us change the tire. We couldn’t believe our luck. We drove another hour to a gas station where we paid $1,200 Kenyan shillings to have the tube of the tire replaced. We had some food to eat because we were starving, and it was now 6 pm and getting dark. By the time food and drink were had and we were back on the road it was very dark out and we had at least another 4 hours ahead of us on the bumpy, unlit and treacherous Mombasa road. We all sat mostly silent and white knuckled for the following 5 hours – 5 because we got all kinds of lost when we got to Mombasa and took us a while before we found Tiwi beach on the south coast down some dark, unpaved roads. We were particularly frustrated when people in the car, speaking only in Swahili, kept asking directions but not sharing with us what the confusion was. This was especially annoying because we were the ones that actually had the map and knew where the hotel was. By the end we were all pretty testy and ready to go to bed. Poor Justus had been driving for the last five hours completely erect with his eyes being blinded by the bright lights of oncoming trucks on the two lane highway that refused to dim their headlights. He was so tired he ended up taking several road bumps at 40 miles an hour and we were sure we’d lost at least a muffler.
The saving grace of the trip was that when we arrived at Coral Cove Cottages we fell in love with the place. It was the cutest cottages you’d ever seen and at such a reasonable price. There were two bedrooms, a decent kitchen and a really nice living room. We decided that after a good night’s sleep we could all use the rest of the next day for some relax time. When we woke up to the sound of monkeys and birds all around us we walked down to find the most beautiful white sand beach ever. There was a great little ocean front restaurant with good coffee and decent (actually crispy) toast. We spent the whole day walking on the beach, playing cards, reading and trying to get over the terrible trip.
The next morning we got up early and ready to get our research on. As we waited for every one to get ready for our day trip to Mombasa to see Fort Jesus (the former Portuguese trading post) and Old Town Mombasa, Njeri decided she would take the car for a drive in the unpaved and grassy road. Despite Justus’ telling her it was a rented car and an automatic, which she had never driven (she’d been begging the past three days) she grabs the keys and gets in the car to show off her driving skills.
CRACKKKSCCCCRUUHNNCCHHH!!!
We look over and Njeri has just reversed the car into a palm tree which rests on the side of the cottage. The side mirror has been knocked off and the entire side has been dented and scratched, not to mention the big mark she left in the poor tree. We look at each other trying to decide if we should laugh or scream at the irony of it all – no luck with cars! We walk over to inspect the car and find an embarrassed Njeri and an extremely irate Justus. For the next two days we were trapped at the cottages while poor Justus and Andrew spent their days at the car garage in a nearby town trying to have the car fixed so the rental place wouldn’t know what had happened. Justus didn’t trust them to do the car well or use the car for a joy ride and camped out the entire time watching their every move.
While we were sad not to get to go to the Elephant Sanctuary or Fort Jesus, we appreciated the two days to enjoy the gorgeous beach and relax. It was our first time spending more than two days in the same place after the last two and half week whirlwind trip. We caught up on receipts, discussed curriculum and found ourselves reflecting on our trip thus far. We appreciated alone time where we could talk privately, share our frustrations and remind ourselves of how lucky we were to be there. At night we stayed up late, played Kenyan Poker, “Cadi”, with Andrew and Justus, shared stories and taught them how to play “rock, paper, scissors.”
While we were sad that the accident meant we didn’t get to do most of what we’d planned on the South Coast (the cottages are in a very remote place with no matatus running there and dangerous to walk to – we were told that even people who work in the various beach-side hotels and cottages get mugged on the dirt road). We did get to head out to Mombasa one night once the car was fixed. We drove around, saw Old Town Mombasa (which is largely crumbling and not well restored), and had a final meal together. The next morning we woke early to drop Andrew and Njeri off at the bus station. The price of fixing the car meant that Njeri had no more money to continue the trip with us up to Malindi. Andrew also had a tight budget but he thanked us repeatedly for letting him tag along and we were sad to say good-bye to him though we promised to hook back up in Nairobi. He is going to take us music and book shopping and show us some other parts of Nairobi we might have missed.
On the morning of the 15th we woke up really early to head east towards the coast south of Mombasa. The trip was to be 6-8 hours depending on traffic and our goal was to be out of the door by 9 a.m. The car that Justus had picked up from Ben’s rental had a back left tire that seemed to wobble and made the whole car shake (we learned this when he picked us up from the Journey show the night before). He got up very early and headed to Ben’s early to get the tire changed and checked out. By the time the tire had been changed it was now 11 a.m. and we were already behind. The tire still did not look or feel right though he assured us we would be fine.
Less than 50 minutes outside of Nairobi the car, which had been shaking, began to really move and Mer heard a metal clanking. When she stuck her head out the window she discovered a completely flat tire. We pulled over slowly, examined the car. We discovered how bad it was when the tire was removed to put on the donut and we saw a huge patch on the inside of this worn and used tire. We called Ben who said he’d check on our options; we waited a long time to hear from him. Meanwhile Mer is calling his boss to demand a new car. She is dialing furiously and shaking with the vengeance of a stalker because the boss refuses to pick up the phone but does manage to text saying he will send money for a tire. We don’t want a new tire; we want a new car. Three hours later one arrives. While a tad bit calmer we are still pretty annoyed and anxious to get our trip started. They show up with a markedly smaller car (we are five people) that has squeaky breaks. We try to argue for a refund (we had paid in full up front so our chances seemed slim) but when Njeri began to be rude to the man the conversation ended and he refused to speak more to us. We got back in the car and headed to Mombasa eager to forget it all.
Two hours later, POP! Another tire is blown, this time the front tire on the left side. Two young men appeared out of nowhere, ran up to the car and began helping us change the tire. We couldn’t believe our luck. We drove another hour to a gas station where we paid $1,200 Kenyan shillings to have the tube of the tire replaced. We had some food to eat because we were starving, and it was now 6 pm and getting dark. By the time food and drink were had and we were back on the road it was very dark out and we had at least another 4 hours ahead of us on the bumpy, unlit and treacherous Mombasa road. We all sat mostly silent and white knuckled for the following 5 hours – 5 because we got all kinds of lost when we got to Mombasa and took us a while before we found Tiwi beach on the south coast down some dark, unpaved roads. We were particularly frustrated when people in the car, speaking only in Swahili, kept asking directions but not sharing with us what the confusion was. This was especially annoying because we were the ones that actually had the map and knew where the hotel was. By the end we were all pretty testy and ready to go to bed. Poor Justus had been driving for the last five hours completely erect with his eyes being blinded by the bright lights of oncoming trucks on the two lane highway that refused to dim their headlights. He was so tired he ended up taking several road bumps at 40 miles an hour and we were sure we’d lost at least a muffler.
The saving grace of the trip was that when we arrived at Coral Cove Cottages we fell in love with the place. It was the cutest cottages you’d ever seen and at such a reasonable price. There were two bedrooms, a decent kitchen and a really nice living room. We decided that after a good night’s sleep we could all use the rest of the next day for some relax time. When we woke up to the sound of monkeys and birds all around us we walked down to find the most beautiful white sand beach ever. There was a great little ocean front restaurant with good coffee and decent (actually crispy) toast. We spent the whole day walking on the beach, playing cards, reading and trying to get over the terrible trip.
The next morning we got up early and ready to get our research on. As we waited for every one to get ready for our day trip to Mombasa to see Fort Jesus (the former Portuguese trading post) and Old Town Mombasa, Njeri decided she would take the car for a drive in the unpaved and grassy road. Despite Justus’ telling her it was a rented car and an automatic, which she had never driven (she’d been begging the past three days) she grabs the keys and gets in the car to show off her driving skills.
CRACKKKSCCCCRUUHNNCCHHH!!!
We look over and Njeri has just reversed the car into a palm tree which rests on the side of the cottage. The side mirror has been knocked off and the entire side has been dented and scratched, not to mention the big mark she left in the poor tree. We look at each other trying to decide if we should laugh or scream at the irony of it all – no luck with cars! We walk over to inspect the car and find an embarrassed Njeri and an extremely irate Justus. For the next two days we were trapped at the cottages while poor Justus and Andrew spent their days at the car garage in a nearby town trying to have the car fixed so the rental place wouldn’t know what had happened. Justus didn’t trust them to do the car well or use the car for a joy ride and camped out the entire time watching their every move.
While we were sad not to get to go to the Elephant Sanctuary or Fort Jesus, we appreciated the two days to enjoy the gorgeous beach and relax. It was our first time spending more than two days in the same place after the last two and half week whirlwind trip. We caught up on receipts, discussed curriculum and found ourselves reflecting on our trip thus far. We appreciated alone time where we could talk privately, share our frustrations and remind ourselves of how lucky we were to be there. At night we stayed up late, played Kenyan Poker, “Cadi”, with Andrew and Justus, shared stories and taught them how to play “rock, paper, scissors.”
While we were sad that the accident meant we didn’t get to do most of what we’d planned on the South Coast (the cottages are in a very remote place with no matatus running there and dangerous to walk to – we were told that even people who work in the various beach-side hotels and cottages get mugged on the dirt road). We did get to head out to Mombasa one night once the car was fixed. We drove around, saw Old Town Mombasa (which is largely crumbling and not well restored), and had a final meal together. The next morning we woke early to drop Andrew and Njeri off at the bus station. The price of fixing the car meant that Njeri had no more money to continue the trip with us up to Malindi. Andrew also had a tight budget but he thanked us repeatedly for letting him tag along and we were sad to say good-bye to him though we promised to hook back up in Nairobi. He is going to take us music and book shopping and show us some other parts of Nairobi we might have missed.
August 14 - Visit to "Journey"
Journey – August 14th
Friday, the 14th, was Pat’s birthday so after spending a good part of the morning in the internet café downstairs we went with her, Daudi, Njeri, and Njeri’s brother Derek to a nice restaurant that had grilled meat that Pat likes. Daudi entertained us with stories of his fear of the ocean and travel stories about his time in Finland that made us laugh. While we were there a friend of Pat’s named Abu stopped by the restaurant and we got a chance to chat with him. He was a really sweet guy who does a lot of work on AIDS and HIV education among youth. He was describing a project he does in the prisons with young men where they use theater to educate and encourage safer sex practices. His work really focuses on de-stigmatizing HIV/AIDS and looking at it as a medical issue and dispel some of the myths that surround it. It was really interesting to talk to him about some of the HIV/AIDS issues – he answered questions like, “Why is there a 20% HIV infection rate in Kisumu but only about 10% in the rest of the country?” His answer – in the western part of Kenya they still practice the tradition of wife inheritance. If a man dies his wife (or wives) go to the brother or next closest male relative. So, if a man had been infected and died and his wife, also presumably infected, gets passed on to a new partner and all of his partners you can understand how the disease can spread faster. He also explained that in Kenya it is still quite common for men to have “side jobs” – meaning mistresses. Because there are still lots of superstitions around AIDS/HIV (the virgin cure is one still alive in some parts) this makes his job of educating people a bit more difficult. We hope to hook up with him when we get back from our Coast trip and maybe peek in on one of his projects. His interest in using theater to engage young people seems like a natural fit with some of the people we work with back at home – if only we could find more ways for people like Abu to share his work. Some of the problems he encounters and the difficulties facing youth are so similar to what we also see in the Bronx.
After the dinner we headed over to the University campus to check out Journey – a band that Njeri and her friend Andrew are part of. Apparently they have a Friday night youth gathering on the campus with music, discussion and dancing for Christian youth. Because they raved so much about it we wanted to see it and also support Njeri and Andrew who were to sing that night. Despite our protests Pat insisted on calling Justus to come pick us up from the restaurant and take us to the band practice as he was to pick up the rental car that evening. We felt that it was unfair to ask him to transport us around since we weren’t paying him to do so and because it was his last night with his family before we headed east for our big Coast trip. We waited for a long time for him and it was getting late so we finally took a taxi. Njeri was annoyed but we were secretly relieved to not make Justus come all the way there, pick us up and take us somewhere else and wait for us. (NOTE: we have had several conversations with Pat and Njeri about this and feel that even though they explain this as part of the culture we feel very uncomfortable treating Justus like a servant there to do whatever we say whenever we say. Though it is true we are paying him, on this particular day we were not and felt it rude to even assume that he would leave his home to drive across town and drive us around.) When we arrived we looked around and saw that two of the seven rows of chairs are filled with Americans; we were a bit surprised as this is not part of the tourist circuit as far as we knew.
After four or five songs the white American minister that helps to organize Journey, Brent (the same guy who spoke at the church service the first day), got up to introduce a guy who was going to introduce a guy to speak – Brent mentions he doesn’t really know either of them but welcomes them to share. The first guy, gets up and gives a shout out to all the Americans in the house; weird. Then he starts talking about how he’s so happy to be in “Africa” and “Africa is so great” and this is his second time in “this great country, Africa”. Then he starts describing his important work here in “Africa.” He’s here on a two week trip to Kibera to run a basketball camp. He tells the story of how he found Jesus after losing him for two years in his youth and how now he uses basketball to help others find Jesus too. While we didn’t mind his quest to get to know Jesus well and it didn’t strike us as odd that he chose basketball to do it, we did think it a little weird to come all the way to “Africa” to try to convert people living in the largest slum in Kenya to Christianity and he didn’t even think to call the country by its name. He wanted it to be clear that we not think that basketball was part of the religion but a way to connect to the young people so they’d be more willing to open their hearts to Jesus and get to know him and accept him as their savior. This hit us most because Kenya is a primarily Christian nation and Kibera, the slum where he was working, was in Nairobi, which is overwhelmingly Christian. Why did he assume that these children didn’t know who Jesus was or had never been to church?
The guy quickly ended his explanation of his trip because he wanted to introduce one of the youth pastors that was with him who was to give us a sermon. The young man started out his sermon trying to tell jokes but the humor, a very American and sarcastic humor, was lost on the audience though we chuckled. He also spoke fast in a strong Midwestern accent and many visibly strained to follow him. He had a powerpoint presentation to go with it with different bible passages flashing on the screen. He asked everyone to take out their bibles, about 10 of the Americans reached in their pocket for their bibles and the other six pulled out their iPhones with an app for Bible passages I guess. It was weird to see, only about 2 or 3 of the Kenyan youth had bibles with them. He began to deliver a sermon with the title “How to live a good life”. He jumped from one passage to the next, trying desperately to connect them all to the theme and peppering his sermon with personal anecdotes of a mean boss who he didn’t like but served with a servants heart as the bible told him to do until one day the boss was fired. The sermon was still going on after 20 minutes when Njeri finally decided it was time to go. As we walked out the Kenyan young people looked literally bored to sleep (some were in fact) and the poor young guy, who sensed it, kept trying to explain what he was saying. We felt bad for everyone in the room, including him.
Leaving Journey we were a little bit in shock because it seemed, though he was sincere in wanting to help others, it felt odd that this 19 year old guy had chosen to travel half way across the world and lecture Kenyans about having a servants heart and loving and serving even those who oppress you – and all this based on his experiences as a barista in a coffee shop in Wisconsin. We don’t think he caught the irony of a white man from one of the richest and most powerful countries in the world telling young black Africans from a developing nation with a huge unemployment rate, an economy in big trouble, and a long and impressive history of being colonized and exploited by various European nations (and the US), about how to be a servant of God by praying for those who do harm unto you.
It reminded us of a quote we saw in the national museum of Kenya earlier in our trip from the country’s independence leader Jomo Kenyatta,
“When they arrived we had the land and they had the bibles. They told us to close our eyes to pray and when we opened them we had the bibles and they had the land”
There might be a word or two off there but that’s how we remember the quote.
While we respect the idea of going to others and helping them, sharing your beliefs with people, and making the world a place more like the one you envision, Africa with its history of missionaries with alterior motives makes the abundance of missionaries we’ve run into (we met others in our trip at virtually every stop) weird. They don’t seem to have bad intentions but the way they deliver their message to Kenyan audiences carries a certain arrogance that has multiple times made us feel uncomfortable. For their first time visiting Journey you might expect them to sit and listen, perhaps ask questions and try to learn from the young Kenyans themselves who have organized this space and time instead of standing up and reporting on all their good work in teaching Kenyans about Jesus.
Friday, the 14th, was Pat’s birthday so after spending a good part of the morning in the internet café downstairs we went with her, Daudi, Njeri, and Njeri’s brother Derek to a nice restaurant that had grilled meat that Pat likes. Daudi entertained us with stories of his fear of the ocean and travel stories about his time in Finland that made us laugh. While we were there a friend of Pat’s named Abu stopped by the restaurant and we got a chance to chat with him. He was a really sweet guy who does a lot of work on AIDS and HIV education among youth. He was describing a project he does in the prisons with young men where they use theater to educate and encourage safer sex practices. His work really focuses on de-stigmatizing HIV/AIDS and looking at it as a medical issue and dispel some of the myths that surround it. It was really interesting to talk to him about some of the HIV/AIDS issues – he answered questions like, “Why is there a 20% HIV infection rate in Kisumu but only about 10% in the rest of the country?” His answer – in the western part of Kenya they still practice the tradition of wife inheritance. If a man dies his wife (or wives) go to the brother or next closest male relative. So, if a man had been infected and died and his wife, also presumably infected, gets passed on to a new partner and all of his partners you can understand how the disease can spread faster. He also explained that in Kenya it is still quite common for men to have “side jobs” – meaning mistresses. Because there are still lots of superstitions around AIDS/HIV (the virgin cure is one still alive in some parts) this makes his job of educating people a bit more difficult. We hope to hook up with him when we get back from our Coast trip and maybe peek in on one of his projects. His interest in using theater to engage young people seems like a natural fit with some of the people we work with back at home – if only we could find more ways for people like Abu to share his work. Some of the problems he encounters and the difficulties facing youth are so similar to what we also see in the Bronx.
After the dinner we headed over to the University campus to check out Journey – a band that Njeri and her friend Andrew are part of. Apparently they have a Friday night youth gathering on the campus with music, discussion and dancing for Christian youth. Because they raved so much about it we wanted to see it and also support Njeri and Andrew who were to sing that night. Despite our protests Pat insisted on calling Justus to come pick us up from the restaurant and take us to the band practice as he was to pick up the rental car that evening. We felt that it was unfair to ask him to transport us around since we weren’t paying him to do so and because it was his last night with his family before we headed east for our big Coast trip. We waited for a long time for him and it was getting late so we finally took a taxi. Njeri was annoyed but we were secretly relieved to not make Justus come all the way there, pick us up and take us somewhere else and wait for us. (NOTE: we have had several conversations with Pat and Njeri about this and feel that even though they explain this as part of the culture we feel very uncomfortable treating Justus like a servant there to do whatever we say whenever we say. Though it is true we are paying him, on this particular day we were not and felt it rude to even assume that he would leave his home to drive across town and drive us around.) When we arrived we looked around and saw that two of the seven rows of chairs are filled with Americans; we were a bit surprised as this is not part of the tourist circuit as far as we knew.
After four or five songs the white American minister that helps to organize Journey, Brent (the same guy who spoke at the church service the first day), got up to introduce a guy who was going to introduce a guy to speak – Brent mentions he doesn’t really know either of them but welcomes them to share. The first guy, gets up and gives a shout out to all the Americans in the house; weird. Then he starts talking about how he’s so happy to be in “Africa” and “Africa is so great” and this is his second time in “this great country, Africa”. Then he starts describing his important work here in “Africa.” He’s here on a two week trip to Kibera to run a basketball camp. He tells the story of how he found Jesus after losing him for two years in his youth and how now he uses basketball to help others find Jesus too. While we didn’t mind his quest to get to know Jesus well and it didn’t strike us as odd that he chose basketball to do it, we did think it a little weird to come all the way to “Africa” to try to convert people living in the largest slum in Kenya to Christianity and he didn’t even think to call the country by its name. He wanted it to be clear that we not think that basketball was part of the religion but a way to connect to the young people so they’d be more willing to open their hearts to Jesus and get to know him and accept him as their savior. This hit us most because Kenya is a primarily Christian nation and Kibera, the slum where he was working, was in Nairobi, which is overwhelmingly Christian. Why did he assume that these children didn’t know who Jesus was or had never been to church?
The guy quickly ended his explanation of his trip because he wanted to introduce one of the youth pastors that was with him who was to give us a sermon. The young man started out his sermon trying to tell jokes but the humor, a very American and sarcastic humor, was lost on the audience though we chuckled. He also spoke fast in a strong Midwestern accent and many visibly strained to follow him. He had a powerpoint presentation to go with it with different bible passages flashing on the screen. He asked everyone to take out their bibles, about 10 of the Americans reached in their pocket for their bibles and the other six pulled out their iPhones with an app for Bible passages I guess. It was weird to see, only about 2 or 3 of the Kenyan youth had bibles with them. He began to deliver a sermon with the title “How to live a good life”. He jumped from one passage to the next, trying desperately to connect them all to the theme and peppering his sermon with personal anecdotes of a mean boss who he didn’t like but served with a servants heart as the bible told him to do until one day the boss was fired. The sermon was still going on after 20 minutes when Njeri finally decided it was time to go. As we walked out the Kenyan young people looked literally bored to sleep (some were in fact) and the poor young guy, who sensed it, kept trying to explain what he was saying. We felt bad for everyone in the room, including him.
Leaving Journey we were a little bit in shock because it seemed, though he was sincere in wanting to help others, it felt odd that this 19 year old guy had chosen to travel half way across the world and lecture Kenyans about having a servants heart and loving and serving even those who oppress you – and all this based on his experiences as a barista in a coffee shop in Wisconsin. We don’t think he caught the irony of a white man from one of the richest and most powerful countries in the world telling young black Africans from a developing nation with a huge unemployment rate, an economy in big trouble, and a long and impressive history of being colonized and exploited by various European nations (and the US), about how to be a servant of God by praying for those who do harm unto you.
It reminded us of a quote we saw in the national museum of Kenya earlier in our trip from the country’s independence leader Jomo Kenyatta,
“When they arrived we had the land and they had the bibles. They told us to close our eyes to pray and when we opened them we had the bibles and they had the land”
There might be a word or two off there but that’s how we remember the quote.
While we respect the idea of going to others and helping them, sharing your beliefs with people, and making the world a place more like the one you envision, Africa with its history of missionaries with alterior motives makes the abundance of missionaries we’ve run into (we met others in our trip at virtually every stop) weird. They don’t seem to have bad intentions but the way they deliver their message to Kenyan audiences carries a certain arrogance that has multiple times made us feel uncomfortable. For their first time visiting Journey you might expect them to sit and listen, perhaps ask questions and try to learn from the young Kenyans themselves who have organized this space and time instead of standing up and reporting on all their good work in teaching Kenyans about Jesus.
Friday, August 14, 2009
8/12 Return from the West, Flower Farm and Delamere
Today we took off early from Lake Baringo ready for our drive back to Nairobi. On the way we planned to make 2 stops in and near Naivasha that we hadn't made earlier - the flower farm and the Delamere estates. We decided we wouldn't have time to get to Lake Bogoria or the Menegai crater because of time but these two other stops would be important for our research into Kenya history and economy.
First stop was Delamere estates - on our way out we had been denied entry because it was a Sunday. This time there was no getting lost and it was a weekday so we expected no trouble. WRONG. First of all the guard said she knew not of what we spoke. She didn't know who told us we could visit but we would have to drive to Naivasha make a reservation and then come another day. We asked her to call the manager but she said she had no phone. She would have to radio and there was no response. She said the general manager was on the property but she was not allowed to call him directly she'd have to ask the manager to ask the secretary to call him to let us in. We tried being nice and sweet, tough and demanding, and even stubborn but to no avail. There was no way we were getting in. We couldn't figure it out! We could walk into Kenyan National Parliament with hardly a check but to get in to see a famous colonial estate (hidden under the name of a private conservation park) was impossible. As we headed out the guard confessed that if we had wanted a game drive to see animals it would've been quite easy but because we mentioned the Delamere name they were not going to let us in. Thought streets, bars, restaurants, schools and all kinds of buildings have the name of Delamere, the estate from where the colonial dirty work and business was run was off limits.
Still today the Delamere's own thousands of acres of Kenyan land and dispute the claims of local Masaai who want their land back that was stolen. Though Kenya is now independent you can't help but feel, and Kenyan's say this too, that there is still some work to be done on that front. Even Justus was surprised at how secretive and weird the whole visit was. Hmmm...
On to the Nini Flower Farm where we received a much warmer and informative reception. We were greated by George, an assistant to the manager of the flower farm who walked us through the entire place. He explained the way the farm works, the different kinds of roses they grow, where they ship them to, how the workers are treated/paid, what chemicals they use and the new and different ways they are using to conserve water and prevent pests and diseases without chemicals. We wished our mothers were with us. Bobbie would've especially found the part about microscopic spiders that eat harmful algae flies and the fly tape that they hang in the greenhouses as ways of controlling pests. Rita would've loved the explanation of a process used by a Japanese florist which sucks the sap and color from roses, then replaces them with color and a chemical which basically freeze dries them so that they look fresh but are really preserved flowers. At the end of our tour George gave us a bouquet of the "reject roses" which we thought looked pretty damned good. We took them back to Nairobi for Pat as her birthday was coming soon.
We arrived back in Nairobi and crashed for the evening.
First stop was Delamere estates - on our way out we had been denied entry because it was a Sunday. This time there was no getting lost and it was a weekday so we expected no trouble. WRONG. First of all the guard said she knew not of what we spoke. She didn't know who told us we could visit but we would have to drive to Naivasha make a reservation and then come another day. We asked her to call the manager but she said she had no phone. She would have to radio and there was no response. She said the general manager was on the property but she was not allowed to call him directly she'd have to ask the manager to ask the secretary to call him to let us in. We tried being nice and sweet, tough and demanding, and even stubborn but to no avail. There was no way we were getting in. We couldn't figure it out! We could walk into Kenyan National Parliament with hardly a check but to get in to see a famous colonial estate (hidden under the name of a private conservation park) was impossible. As we headed out the guard confessed that if we had wanted a game drive to see animals it would've been quite easy but because we mentioned the Delamere name they were not going to let us in. Thought streets, bars, restaurants, schools and all kinds of buildings have the name of Delamere, the estate from where the colonial dirty work and business was run was off limits.
Still today the Delamere's own thousands of acres of Kenyan land and dispute the claims of local Masaai who want their land back that was stolen. Though Kenya is now independent you can't help but feel, and Kenyan's say this too, that there is still some work to be done on that front. Even Justus was surprised at how secretive and weird the whole visit was. Hmmm...
On to the Nini Flower Farm where we received a much warmer and informative reception. We were greated by George, an assistant to the manager of the flower farm who walked us through the entire place. He explained the way the farm works, the different kinds of roses they grow, where they ship them to, how the workers are treated/paid, what chemicals they use and the new and different ways they are using to conserve water and prevent pests and diseases without chemicals. We wished our mothers were with us. Bobbie would've especially found the part about microscopic spiders that eat harmful algae flies and the fly tape that they hang in the greenhouses as ways of controlling pests. Rita would've loved the explanation of a process used by a Japanese florist which sucks the sap and color from roses, then replaces them with color and a chemical which basically freeze dries them so that they look fresh but are really preserved flowers. At the end of our tour George gave us a bouquet of the "reject roses" which we thought looked pretty damned good. We took them back to Nairobi for Pat as her birthday was coming soon.
We arrived back in Nairobi and crashed for the evening.
Back in Nairobi 8/13 - Kenyan Parliament Visit
8/13 Back in Nairobi
We awoke this morning happy to be back in our Nairobi home. After the hundreds of kilometers we've driven it was nice to not have to get up this morning and get back in the car; in fact the last thing we wanted to do this morning is get in a vehicle. We were feeling a bit drained from our travels and the natural ebb and flow of our bodily functions and their ability to adjust to new foods (a convoluted way of saying we got some intestinal challenges!) meant that we just wanted to stay at home and relax.
Jessie took an unusual late morning nap while Mer read on the couch. Finally at 2 pm we decided to venture out of the house and head into downtown. We couldn't justify wasting a whole day in Kenya at Pat's house when there was so much in Nairobi we still hadn't done. Plus, there was no power in Pat's neighborhood so that meant no updating of blogs or catching up on email for us. We headed into the downtown area with Njeri in one of the matatus that we now were starting to dread. We continue to be frustrated with "the jam" and ask ourselves how much more progress could this country make without a jam? Why isn't this problem being addressed? Every Kenyan we talk to is frustrated by it and people plan their lives around it. Daudi, Pat's husband, drives about 5 hours per day to Kenyatta University (this is a commute that should only take 30 minutes each way). When we ask Kenyans how they think this can be fixed, they all say the roads should be widened, the public transportation improved, etc but that the politicians are too corrupt and lazy to do anything. It is amazing how universally disillusioned people seem to be with the government.
We headed to the Kenyan National Parliament where we heard you can view proceedings from the public gallery. It took quite a while to get in - though we weren't asked to show our passports or even get searched though they told us this was the reason for the wait. The only other visitors that day were three sets of school children who looked to be between the ages of 13 and 17. Njeri said, "they must be public school children" because of how they were dressed and being treated. The students were wearing uniforms that were tattered and old. Their old shoes and slouching socks also gave it away. They were made to stand in single file lines while the guard told them to behave and took any cameras away (there were two total in the group of 60). The students filed in to sit in the gallery viewing area. They were very interested in us and a few reached out to touch us or give us high fives. As we climbed up to the viewing gallery we had to ask ourselves if we'd already missed the session. We were told it started at 3 and it was about 3:30 so we couldn't understand why the less than 40 members present started filing out within five minute of our arrival. Less than 10 remained as one gentleman from the Ministry of Trade got up to give his report on the request for funding for the ministry and a report of their work. There was, literally, not a single person listening to him as he gave his report. One woman was texting and picking up the phone to call people, there were two groups of people sitting and talking and laughing and a row of reporters one level below us who seemed to get bored and got up and left. It was really confusing and sad from our perspective.
The students sat up straight and very polite, not one talked or elbowed his neighbor, though a few kept turning around to sneak a peak at us or wave and smile. They looked bored but attentive and we wondered how they were following the speech - many of the students in the public schools receive very poor education and these students from the interior generally do not have a strong command of English; the language the government uses. Njeri had decided not to come in with us. "I went once when I was 12 and I choose never to go back again," she said as she had left us at the gate. We now understood why. How sad. The truth is that we were so disappointed. There are 230 or something close to elected members of parliament. To see literally 8 in there was such a shock to the system. Trade is such a hot topic issue and the AGOA conference had just occured in Kenya less than a week earlier - how could there be such low attendance? The few who spoke mentioned the importance of developing Africa as a trading region and not just going after Euros and Dollars. Some debated whether or not they should continue to develop and strengthen trade with Uganda given the current tension between the two countries. Others challenged them to think outside the box but offered few examples or solutions. After 45 minutes of the gentleman's report and then a few other speeches from people who hadn't been listening to his speech we decided it was time to go. While this is an area of interest to both of us and we really wanted to hear more, we felt like there wasn't much new we were going to learn. After less than an hour in session they all appeared to be winding down.
On our way out we asked the guard where all the MPs were - he said the President had gone to the coast for a conference so maybe they went to join him. When we asked Pat later she snorted and said "yeah right!" She was not at all shocked when we told her only 8 MPs were there that day - "this is how things work here girls. Wait until election time then they'll all show up" We told her how the parking lot was filled with luxury SUVs and she said, "you know we pay them an allowance for that! We pay housing, travel and food expenses for them and they don't even pay taxes!" She was disgusted but we asked her why she didn't run for office. "I should" she said. But she said she probably wouldn't.
As an outsider it's hard to be critical of someone elses government or system. You want to respect each country's right to develop their own system and how they choose to run their country. At the same time we understood the reason so many Kenyans lack trust in their government. The front page of the paper that day said that the drought has gotten so bad that people are starting to starve and there is a serious food shortage problem. Not only are animals running out of land to graze, the field crops are not yielding enough for people and food borne illnesses are also on the rise. Then to see that in the face of this crisis less than 40 MPs were present and less than 10 stayed for the whole session made the situation even more depressing.
We left the gallery to meet Njeri and her friend Andrew (who will be traveling with us to Mombasa). After a quick bite we headed to the Matatu stand where it took us about an hour to catch a matatu back to Pat's neighborhood - we had to face "the jam" all over again. If ever the country was in need of a government to help fix some of the problems that plague Kenyans every day it is now - we're anxious to find someone to talk to who can explain a little bit about how and why things have developed the way they have here. We know that the legacy of colonialism and the challenges of a developing country play a large role - we were reminded of that as we walked into the building of the Parliament and read a plaque proudly proclaiming that the foundation for the building had been paid for and laid by British nobility.
We awoke this morning happy to be back in our Nairobi home. After the hundreds of kilometers we've driven it was nice to not have to get up this morning and get back in the car; in fact the last thing we wanted to do this morning is get in a vehicle. We were feeling a bit drained from our travels and the natural ebb and flow of our bodily functions and their ability to adjust to new foods (a convoluted way of saying we got some intestinal challenges!) meant that we just wanted to stay at home and relax.
Jessie took an unusual late morning nap while Mer read on the couch. Finally at 2 pm we decided to venture out of the house and head into downtown. We couldn't justify wasting a whole day in Kenya at Pat's house when there was so much in Nairobi we still hadn't done. Plus, there was no power in Pat's neighborhood so that meant no updating of blogs or catching up on email for us. We headed into the downtown area with Njeri in one of the matatus that we now were starting to dread. We continue to be frustrated with "the jam" and ask ourselves how much more progress could this country make without a jam? Why isn't this problem being addressed? Every Kenyan we talk to is frustrated by it and people plan their lives around it. Daudi, Pat's husband, drives about 5 hours per day to Kenyatta University (this is a commute that should only take 30 minutes each way). When we ask Kenyans how they think this can be fixed, they all say the roads should be widened, the public transportation improved, etc but that the politicians are too corrupt and lazy to do anything. It is amazing how universally disillusioned people seem to be with the government.
We headed to the Kenyan National Parliament where we heard you can view proceedings from the public gallery. It took quite a while to get in - though we weren't asked to show our passports or even get searched though they told us this was the reason for the wait. The only other visitors that day were three sets of school children who looked to be between the ages of 13 and 17. Njeri said, "they must be public school children" because of how they were dressed and being treated. The students were wearing uniforms that were tattered and old. Their old shoes and slouching socks also gave it away. They were made to stand in single file lines while the guard told them to behave and took any cameras away (there were two total in the group of 60). The students filed in to sit in the gallery viewing area. They were very interested in us and a few reached out to touch us or give us high fives. As we climbed up to the viewing gallery we had to ask ourselves if we'd already missed the session. We were told it started at 3 and it was about 3:30 so we couldn't understand why the less than 40 members present started filing out within five minute of our arrival. Less than 10 remained as one gentleman from the Ministry of Trade got up to give his report on the request for funding for the ministry and a report of their work. There was, literally, not a single person listening to him as he gave his report. One woman was texting and picking up the phone to call people, there were two groups of people sitting and talking and laughing and a row of reporters one level below us who seemed to get bored and got up and left. It was really confusing and sad from our perspective.
The students sat up straight and very polite, not one talked or elbowed his neighbor, though a few kept turning around to sneak a peak at us or wave and smile. They looked bored but attentive and we wondered how they were following the speech - many of the students in the public schools receive very poor education and these students from the interior generally do not have a strong command of English; the language the government uses. Njeri had decided not to come in with us. "I went once when I was 12 and I choose never to go back again," she said as she had left us at the gate. We now understood why. How sad. The truth is that we were so disappointed. There are 230 or something close to elected members of parliament. To see literally 8 in there was such a shock to the system. Trade is such a hot topic issue and the AGOA conference had just occured in Kenya less than a week earlier - how could there be such low attendance? The few who spoke mentioned the importance of developing Africa as a trading region and not just going after Euros and Dollars. Some debated whether or not they should continue to develop and strengthen trade with Uganda given the current tension between the two countries. Others challenged them to think outside the box but offered few examples or solutions. After 45 minutes of the gentleman's report and then a few other speeches from people who hadn't been listening to his speech we decided it was time to go. While this is an area of interest to both of us and we really wanted to hear more, we felt like there wasn't much new we were going to learn. After less than an hour in session they all appeared to be winding down.
On our way out we asked the guard where all the MPs were - he said the President had gone to the coast for a conference so maybe they went to join him. When we asked Pat later she snorted and said "yeah right!" She was not at all shocked when we told her only 8 MPs were there that day - "this is how things work here girls. Wait until election time then they'll all show up" We told her how the parking lot was filled with luxury SUVs and she said, "you know we pay them an allowance for that! We pay housing, travel and food expenses for them and they don't even pay taxes!" She was disgusted but we asked her why she didn't run for office. "I should" she said. But she said she probably wouldn't.
As an outsider it's hard to be critical of someone elses government or system. You want to respect each country's right to develop their own system and how they choose to run their country. At the same time we understood the reason so many Kenyans lack trust in their government. The front page of the paper that day said that the drought has gotten so bad that people are starting to starve and there is a serious food shortage problem. Not only are animals running out of land to graze, the field crops are not yielding enough for people and food borne illnesses are also on the rise. Then to see that in the face of this crisis less than 40 MPs were present and less than 10 stayed for the whole session made the situation even more depressing.
We left the gallery to meet Njeri and her friend Andrew (who will be traveling with us to Mombasa). After a quick bite we headed to the Matatu stand where it took us about an hour to catch a matatu back to Pat's neighborhood - we had to face "the jam" all over again. If ever the country was in need of a government to help fix some of the problems that plague Kenyans every day it is now - we're anxious to find someone to talk to who can explain a little bit about how and why things have developed the way they have here. We know that the legacy of colonialism and the challenges of a developing country play a large role - we were reminded of that as we walked into the building of the Parliament and read a plaque proudly proclaiming that the foundation for the building had been paid for and laid by British nobility.
From Kericho to Lake Baringo 8/11-8/12
We had a great little tea plantation tour on the morning of the 11th...and discovered just how close to the equator we are with the sunburns on the back of our necks from walking through tea for an hour! We learned how tea is pruned and harvested and just what parts of the leaves to pick. The guys demonstrating on the tour were so incredibly quick at it...quite impressive. Lipton Tea is among the three major companies who purchase tea from these immense fields. Kericho is the largest tea exporting region in the world (though not producing...India is, but much is used there for consuption rather than exports), and it was interesting to learn the process from picking to cutting to drying to packaging to shipping.
The main guy giving the tour (not a tea picker...clearly works in an office somewhere) gave an interesting and presumably skewed perspective of the conditions in which the workers work. He was quick to say that the housing provided for the workers (most of whom are migrant workers) was more than adequate (though they sure didn't look like it from afar) and the poridge they were fed for lunch was nourishing. He noted that it was a good job that earned a respectable salary (they are paid per kilo they pick per day). He also commented that the tea bushes were cut at a level so the bending over for the workers was minimal and that their backs were not sore at the end of the 8 hour work day (this was clearly not the case since our backs would have easily been sore had we really been picking tea out there much longer). We apprecieated the tour and learned a lot, but made mental notes to ask Justus about the accuracy of the information the guide was so quick to offer. Justus nearly laughed when we told him the information we had learned...he said if all those things were true, he would have not left home to go to the city looking for work (ultimately finding a well paying job as a school bus driver at Pat's school). He said, in fact, that the housing and "provided medical care" were not nearly sufficient, especially considering that entire families lived in these tiny one room houses. He also said the actual pay is less than 1 USD per day which was too little for him (or anyone desiring a small amount of comfort) to take a job in any of the plantations. He suggested that an interview with one of the workers would paint a very different picture than that which was created by the guy giving the tour...as we suspected.
We headed for our last destination on our Western tour, Lake Baringo. We had actually not planned on going here but Justus said it would be well worth the 2 hour drive north and moving hotels yet again to see the lake and the wildlife there. We agreed and set off. Again, we watched the scenery change from lush to dry to incredibly dry and scarce (in between intense card games of Gin Rummy and War). We had to puase a couple of times for big heards of cattle or donkeys taking up the whole road...love it. Didn't love the seeing how the cows get skinnier and skinnier the further out we went.
We arrived at Lake Baringo around 4pm and crossed our fingers that the one "midrange" hotel, according to our guidebook, had available accomodations. There were a few places costing 300ksh per night and a bunch of extravagent places costing around 200USD. Robert's camp, the book said, had some bandas for around 40USD. We got the last one! It was a cute little hut with cement walls and a thatched roof and we were loving it. We wished we had our own tent so that we might camp for much cheaper and sleep outside with the 450 bird species that live around the lake...their chirping is LOUD! We were loving this place... we dropped our stuff and headed to the bar to grab a Tusker and see if we could sneak in a boat tour around the lake to experience the crocadiles and hippos the guidebooks boasted. We ran into a couple from Slovakia who was looking for others with whom to share their boat (3000ksh per boat, seating up to 7 people). Perfect timing! The two of us and Justus hopped on with them and a teenage kid named Robert, who lived on the land around the lake, took us on a well informed tour for about an hour.
The boat ride was awesome...it was an aquatic safari! Robert kept motoring into the marsh so we might get up close and personal with the crocodiles (which was not cool...at least mer didn't think so, being the front passenger in the boat). 5:30pm with the sun setting on the lake was a beautiful time for a ride, and also convenient (or not) because so many hippos were in full view in the water just 10 ft from the boat. Those are some big ass animals, for real. Dangerous also, and whenever one would go underwater, Robert would quickly motor away... It was a pretty amazing sunset cruise! And Tusker tastes even better on the water of lake Baringo.
We walked back to the camp with our new friends from Slovakia and sat and exchanged our travel stories and advice with one another before dinner. They were heading to the coast from there so we exchanged information in hopes of crossing paths at the beach in Mombasa. We had a great pizza dinner (the spiciest pizza either of us had ever ingested...), Jessie dominated Mer in scrabble, and chatted about our experiences. As we got up to head to our banda, one of the waiters said, "whoa, whoa, are you walking to your banda alone without a light?" "Well, yea, it's just around there and the bathroom light, just across from our banda, looks like it's on". Two other Kenyan residents and the waiter shared a chuckle and said, "No, we must take you with a spotlight. You don't walk around here at night without one...these hippos are mean to come across and they come up on land at night. We will take you." I mean.... So, we were glad for the escort but sure as hell were not walking to the bathroom to use it or brush our teeth...the dirt outside our banda door and sprinting back in was just fine (and hilarious). ; )
We were greeted in our banda by a truly gigantic spider and Mer nearly hypervenelated while Jessie begrudgingly killed it with her shoe ("spiders are good, they eat mosquitos," she kept saying). This thing would have eaten us...it had to go. Uggghhhh. Other than that, it was a peaceful night and we could hear the songs of hundreds of birds through our thatched roof, which got about 20 times louder as the sun rose the next morning...no alarm clocks needed here! We had a beautiful, if brief, time at the Lake and only wished we could have stayed another night. We were grateful Justus recommended it!
The main guy giving the tour (not a tea picker...clearly works in an office somewhere) gave an interesting and presumably skewed perspective of the conditions in which the workers work. He was quick to say that the housing provided for the workers (most of whom are migrant workers) was more than adequate (though they sure didn't look like it from afar) and the poridge they were fed for lunch was nourishing. He noted that it was a good job that earned a respectable salary (they are paid per kilo they pick per day). He also commented that the tea bushes were cut at a level so the bending over for the workers was minimal and that their backs were not sore at the end of the 8 hour work day (this was clearly not the case since our backs would have easily been sore had we really been picking tea out there much longer). We apprecieated the tour and learned a lot, but made mental notes to ask Justus about the accuracy of the information the guide was so quick to offer. Justus nearly laughed when we told him the information we had learned...he said if all those things were true, he would have not left home to go to the city looking for work (ultimately finding a well paying job as a school bus driver at Pat's school). He said, in fact, that the housing and "provided medical care" were not nearly sufficient, especially considering that entire families lived in these tiny one room houses. He also said the actual pay is less than 1 USD per day which was too little for him (or anyone desiring a small amount of comfort) to take a job in any of the plantations. He suggested that an interview with one of the workers would paint a very different picture than that which was created by the guy giving the tour...as we suspected.
We headed for our last destination on our Western tour, Lake Baringo. We had actually not planned on going here but Justus said it would be well worth the 2 hour drive north and moving hotels yet again to see the lake and the wildlife there. We agreed and set off. Again, we watched the scenery change from lush to dry to incredibly dry and scarce (in between intense card games of Gin Rummy and War). We had to puase a couple of times for big heards of cattle or donkeys taking up the whole road...love it. Didn't love the seeing how the cows get skinnier and skinnier the further out we went.
We arrived at Lake Baringo around 4pm and crossed our fingers that the one "midrange" hotel, according to our guidebook, had available accomodations. There were a few places costing 300ksh per night and a bunch of extravagent places costing around 200USD. Robert's camp, the book said, had some bandas for around 40USD. We got the last one! It was a cute little hut with cement walls and a thatched roof and we were loving it. We wished we had our own tent so that we might camp for much cheaper and sleep outside with the 450 bird species that live around the lake...their chirping is LOUD! We were loving this place... we dropped our stuff and headed to the bar to grab a Tusker and see if we could sneak in a boat tour around the lake to experience the crocadiles and hippos the guidebooks boasted. We ran into a couple from Slovakia who was looking for others with whom to share their boat (3000ksh per boat, seating up to 7 people). Perfect timing! The two of us and Justus hopped on with them and a teenage kid named Robert, who lived on the land around the lake, took us on a well informed tour for about an hour.
The boat ride was awesome...it was an aquatic safari! Robert kept motoring into the marsh so we might get up close and personal with the crocodiles (which was not cool...at least mer didn't think so, being the front passenger in the boat). 5:30pm with the sun setting on the lake was a beautiful time for a ride, and also convenient (or not) because so many hippos were in full view in the water just 10 ft from the boat. Those are some big ass animals, for real. Dangerous also, and whenever one would go underwater, Robert would quickly motor away... It was a pretty amazing sunset cruise! And Tusker tastes even better on the water of lake Baringo.
We walked back to the camp with our new friends from Slovakia and sat and exchanged our travel stories and advice with one another before dinner. They were heading to the coast from there so we exchanged information in hopes of crossing paths at the beach in Mombasa. We had a great pizza dinner (the spiciest pizza either of us had ever ingested...), Jessie dominated Mer in scrabble, and chatted about our experiences. As we got up to head to our banda, one of the waiters said, "whoa, whoa, are you walking to your banda alone without a light?" "Well, yea, it's just around there and the bathroom light, just across from our banda, looks like it's on". Two other Kenyan residents and the waiter shared a chuckle and said, "No, we must take you with a spotlight. You don't walk around here at night without one...these hippos are mean to come across and they come up on land at night. We will take you." I mean.... So, we were glad for the escort but sure as hell were not walking to the bathroom to use it or brush our teeth...the dirt outside our banda door and sprinting back in was just fine (and hilarious). ; )
We were greeted in our banda by a truly gigantic spider and Mer nearly hypervenelated while Jessie begrudgingly killed it with her shoe ("spiders are good, they eat mosquitos," she kept saying). This thing would have eaten us...it had to go. Uggghhhh. Other than that, it was a peaceful night and we could hear the songs of hundreds of birds through our thatched roof, which got about 20 times louder as the sun rose the next morning...no alarm clocks needed here! We had a beautiful, if brief, time at the Lake and only wished we could have stayed another night. We were grateful Justus recommended it!
Sooper Guest House
Sooper (pronounced super) guest house is the kind of place that deserves its own post. According to our original plan sooper guesthouse (at $14/night) was going to be the place were would stay for the next three nights. We had to find a cheap place to offset the $225 we just blew on the Naivasha Country Club disaster.
When we arrived in Kisumu, the third largest city in the country. We found it to be a bit dirty, very polluted air and like any large city in a developing country; without someone to show you around there isn't much to do. We drove around a bit until we happened upon the guest house which we almost missed. It was nestled between a paint shop and a car parts store. There was one small blue sign hanging which read "sooper guest house." Both our lonely planet and rough guide books said this was one of the best places to stay in Kisumu so even though Justus wrinkled his nose we decided we were going to check it out. Five street boys were hanging out by the door and asking for money. It was getting dark so we wanted to hurry upstairs to check in and then head out to a grocery store or restaurant to buy some food. As we walked up the narrow, dimly lit hotel we had a few reservations but again decided to withhold judgement. The reception staff were nice as we found their desk nestled in a little nook in the lobby which appeared to be a construction site.
A young man grabbed our suitcases as we said goodbye to Justus and headed to our room. We walked up a rickety stair case then down another one until he opened a door under one of the staircases directly across from a very foul smelling bathroom. We walked into the room with two tiny single beds, a small window overlooking an old elevator shaft that now housed construction refuge (wheelbarrow, pieces of iron, lots of dirt and dust). We pulled back the sheets to discover that several hairs (from at least three different heads judging by the length and texture) were resting on the pillow cases. Instead of mattresses the beds were a series of folded up wool blankets and pieces of fabric with a sheet wrapped around them. The bathroom was basic, mostly clean with someone's old mismatched flip flops in the shower - were they for us to use we wondered?
We decided to walk around to see what else was there in the hotel. As we said there was a construction site taking up part of the hotel which was built on top of other stores. There was a series of stairs leading to various makeshift floors. We were trying to find the famed terrace which the guidebooks said was such a cool place to hang out on. As we reached the third set of stairs, each more trecherous than the last, Jessie refused to climb the final one which was made of old plank boards and thin metal. Mer, the daredevil, climbed up to the top to a tarred roof with one chair which served as the terrace. We passed the communal kitchen on the way down which was a windowless room with a lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. The place was filthy and we decided we wouldn't be cooking our own dinners there tonight!
Now was the moment that we realized we were no longer 19 year old college students. Sure this was acceptable if we were traveling on a shoestring budget and without a nice grant from the Fund for Teachers, but we were almost 30 and had become accustomed to certain things, like mattresses and clean sheets. This was not going to cut it for us.
We debated just sticking it out the night but when we looked outside into the dark, industrial area outside we thought our chances of finding a place to eat or a store would be slim. We called Justus to come pick us up and we found a hotel that was more in line with our needs.
We ended up having to spend $65 to stay at the famed Sunset hotel. Had we started out there we might have been disappointed at the rooms given the price (our sliding glass door was missing two inches of glass and left a big hole for bugs to come in and the bathtub was elevated while the shower head was lowered forcing us to shower in crouched warrior yoga pose in order to wash our hair). However, we were so happy to find that our pillow cases were clean that we agreed there was no complaining in order. We headed downstairs for one of the best meals we've had yet, ugali, greens and chicken!
Reflection on money and value in Kenya: In the US we've stayed in hotel rooms for $70 a night that were just fine so its hard to imagine how $60 in Kenya are hardly comparable. However, when you think about the cost of importing (and producing) some of the materials, electronics, televisions, etc you can understand how hard it is. Most of the places are suffering from lack of repair and maintenance but though the fees are high money doesn't go far here. It has helped us to understand better why it is so difficult to modernize without huge capital investment AND how even these comforts that we take for granted are largely still reserved for very few people in Kenya. We feel like we aren't getting our money's worth but this is largely compared to what we'd be able to get in the states for the same amount and not in the Kenyan context.
When we arrived in Kisumu, the third largest city in the country. We found it to be a bit dirty, very polluted air and like any large city in a developing country; without someone to show you around there isn't much to do. We drove around a bit until we happened upon the guest house which we almost missed. It was nestled between a paint shop and a car parts store. There was one small blue sign hanging which read "sooper guest house." Both our lonely planet and rough guide books said this was one of the best places to stay in Kisumu so even though Justus wrinkled his nose we decided we were going to check it out. Five street boys were hanging out by the door and asking for money. It was getting dark so we wanted to hurry upstairs to check in and then head out to a grocery store or restaurant to buy some food. As we walked up the narrow, dimly lit hotel we had a few reservations but again decided to withhold judgement. The reception staff were nice as we found their desk nestled in a little nook in the lobby which appeared to be a construction site.
A young man grabbed our suitcases as we said goodbye to Justus and headed to our room. We walked up a rickety stair case then down another one until he opened a door under one of the staircases directly across from a very foul smelling bathroom. We walked into the room with two tiny single beds, a small window overlooking an old elevator shaft that now housed construction refuge (wheelbarrow, pieces of iron, lots of dirt and dust). We pulled back the sheets to discover that several hairs (from at least three different heads judging by the length and texture) were resting on the pillow cases. Instead of mattresses the beds were a series of folded up wool blankets and pieces of fabric with a sheet wrapped around them. The bathroom was basic, mostly clean with someone's old mismatched flip flops in the shower - were they for us to use we wondered?
We decided to walk around to see what else was there in the hotel. As we said there was a construction site taking up part of the hotel which was built on top of other stores. There was a series of stairs leading to various makeshift floors. We were trying to find the famed terrace which the guidebooks said was such a cool place to hang out on. As we reached the third set of stairs, each more trecherous than the last, Jessie refused to climb the final one which was made of old plank boards and thin metal. Mer, the daredevil, climbed up to the top to a tarred roof with one chair which served as the terrace. We passed the communal kitchen on the way down which was a windowless room with a lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. The place was filthy and we decided we wouldn't be cooking our own dinners there tonight!
Now was the moment that we realized we were no longer 19 year old college students. Sure this was acceptable if we were traveling on a shoestring budget and without a nice grant from the Fund for Teachers, but we were almost 30 and had become accustomed to certain things, like mattresses and clean sheets. This was not going to cut it for us.
We debated just sticking it out the night but when we looked outside into the dark, industrial area outside we thought our chances of finding a place to eat or a store would be slim. We called Justus to come pick us up and we found a hotel that was more in line with our needs.
We ended up having to spend $65 to stay at the famed Sunset hotel. Had we started out there we might have been disappointed at the rooms given the price (our sliding glass door was missing two inches of glass and left a big hole for bugs to come in and the bathtub was elevated while the shower head was lowered forcing us to shower in crouched warrior yoga pose in order to wash our hair). However, we were so happy to find that our pillow cases were clean that we agreed there was no complaining in order. We headed downstairs for one of the best meals we've had yet, ugali, greens and chicken!
Reflection on money and value in Kenya: In the US we've stayed in hotel rooms for $70 a night that were just fine so its hard to imagine how $60 in Kenya are hardly comparable. However, when you think about the cost of importing (and producing) some of the materials, electronics, televisions, etc you can understand how hard it is. Most of the places are suffering from lack of repair and maintenance but though the fees are high money doesn't go far here. It has helped us to understand better why it is so difficult to modernize without huge capital investment AND how even these comforts that we take for granted are largely still reserved for very few people in Kenya. We feel like we aren't getting our money's worth but this is largely compared to what we'd be able to get in the states for the same amount and not in the Kenyan context.
Meeting Mama Sarah, Obama's grandmother!!! (and our evening in Kericho)
On the morning of the 8th, we were happy to wake up at Sunset Hotel (it really was sooooper...internet access and all!) which allowed us to do our last update. After coffee and blogging, we anxiously awaited the arrival of Justus (who is always on time) to get back on the road to head to Kogelo, the home village of Obama's father. We had the highest of hopes to actually meet his grandmother, Mama Sarah, who still lives in the home in which she raised her son, Barack Obama Sr. We knew that she was often there for tours (because we researched them and decided against formally taking one, as they were charging $250 per person for one night of accomodations and transport to Kogelo from Kisumu), so we were hopeful that we could roll up and meet her. We even jotted down some interview questions, just in case.
After an hour and a half drive, we pulled onto a winding dusty road with a sign indicating that Senator Barack Obama Secondary School was just a few kilometers down the road. The school in the village was renamed after Obama's visit in 2006 (and there is a new school under construction and waiting for more funds). We were so excited and it felt a bit unreal to be there...one part of Obama's memoir, "Dreams from my Father" that Mer particularly enjoyed were the reflective walks Obama took down that road when he was there visiting at the age of 25...it just felt cool to be on that road. It was also a bit sad driving down the road, too, because the extent of poverty was quite obvious. So many of the people, especially kids, were so thin and malnourished.
Like tourists, we missed the unmarked turn off for Mama Sarah's house and continued on until we felt like we had gone way too far and stopped to ask the group of about 20 women and children washing clothes in the river, where the house was. Yet another reason we were so thankful to have Justus as our driver rather than attempting these trips alone...our Kiswahili is pretty much limited to, hey how are you, thank you, and i'm doing great. They directed us back down the road and to make a left at the turn off. We pulled up to find a tour bus parked out front and two army officials sitting at the front of the lawn.
We showed our passports, signed in, and made our way from the unfriendly guys in uniform to the circle of about 15 handmade wooden chairs sitting under a huge mango tree (also often referenced in Obama's memoir). Nelson, who would be the translator, seated us amongst the 4 other American tourists (who were in Kenya working at an orphanage) and the two gigantic turkeys wandring about the lawn. Not two minutes later, Mama Sarah came walking up and welcomed us to her home by coming around and shaking each of our hands, saying "welcome" in Luo, her mother tongue, and in English. (Though that seemed to be nearly the extent of her English...every other word spoken was in Luo). It was a beautiful day and we sat for just over an hour on the lawn having a conversation with her and couldn't believe how lucky we were.
She asked for questions and the others spoke up first, asking questions we thought were silly, such as, "did Obama's father grow up here?" Uhhhh.... We were able to ask questions about what the village thought of Obama Sr. when he headed to Hawaii for college (they were very proud but shocked, yet confident that he would return). We asked what she thought high school students in the US should know about Kenya, and she responded that it is a beautiful country with a lot of potential but also with a lot of struggle. Jobs are scarce and poverty is high. The desire for education is everpresent but the money for school fees is not available. When food is scarce, particularly in a drought, any money is spent on food and not school uniforms, so kids are unable to attend. She thought that our kids should know that they should travel to Kenya and share their ideas and help motivate children (and if at all possible, any financial assistance). We had an interesting conversation about the obvious importance of education and the barriers that stand in its way, for both kids in Kenya and some kids in certain contexts in the States.
She also shared information about the work she was doing with orphans (mostly of parents who are dying from AIDS). She said she was grateful for Obama's election for many reasons but especially for the assistance the tourism is affording her village. She asked for any small donation for school fees for the orphaned children, and for the farming school that was underway next to us on the other half of her front lawn. She has hired a tiny staff to train individuals how to make wells and pump water and how to farm more productively. About 10 women were partaking in the training while we were there, which was so awesome to see. Mama Sarah is quite the activist and said multiple times how, despite getting tired sometimes (she's 87), she apprecieates every single visitor and sees them as blessings she would never turn away.
After our chat, we took picutres with her and then walked over to the gravestones of Barack Obama Sr. and his father, which are just 10 steps to the left of where we were sitting. We paid our respects, shook hands with Mama Sarah once again, thanked her, and headed out feeling so lucky for the hour just spent. We couldn't believe we had just chatted with an incredible woman whom we admired so much for her life and her work (and, of course, her grandson). What an incredible morning. (we video taped almost the whole thing so you can watch it when we get home!)
Back on the road...we stopped back through Kisumu at a grocery store to get some bread and PB&J for a quick eat on the road. We spent most of our time in the store looking for the least expired food...we found some that had only expired in June of 09, so we were on our way (that sandwiches tasted like doodoo, by the way, but it was all good). We had planned to drive to Kisii, a town south of Kisumu, so that we could go meet Justus's mother and brother who still lived on the land on which he was raised. His mother had just gotten out of the hospital that morning so since we were so close (well, about two hours south and then about 2 hours back to Kericho where we planned to stay for the night), we thought we'd make the trip. This plan, however, would have given us only 1/2 hr to visit so that we could get back to Kericho before nightfall. Although we really wanted to meet his family, we thought it best that he take us directly to kericho where we could find a hotel among the crazy beautiful and lush tea fields, so that he might be able to go to Kisii and stay the whole night and also have the morning to be with his mom. He loved the idea, so we found a great hotel, The Tea Hotel, and had the whole late afternoon to sip tea and read our books on the beautiful lawn.
We had a great little cottage, quite inexpensive for the quality, and especially in comparison to some of the other places we had stayed (we def. underbudgeted cost of hotels here...and we are finding the quality of some of the midrange are nearly as nice as the high cost places...overall, we might say tourists don't quite get what they pay for in terms of hotels here). Anyway, the Tea Hotel was great, the staff incredibly friendly (and LOVED seeing the pics of Obama's grandma). We had a very relaxing and reflective night and went to bed early so that we could be up early for our tea plantation tour the next morning! We love Kericho! (and had fun fantisizing about moving there and teaching at the Teachers College...don't worry, it was just a thought).
After an hour and a half drive, we pulled onto a winding dusty road with a sign indicating that Senator Barack Obama Secondary School was just a few kilometers down the road. The school in the village was renamed after Obama's visit in 2006 (and there is a new school under construction and waiting for more funds). We were so excited and it felt a bit unreal to be there...one part of Obama's memoir, "Dreams from my Father" that Mer particularly enjoyed were the reflective walks Obama took down that road when he was there visiting at the age of 25...it just felt cool to be on that road. It was also a bit sad driving down the road, too, because the extent of poverty was quite obvious. So many of the people, especially kids, were so thin and malnourished.
Like tourists, we missed the unmarked turn off for Mama Sarah's house and continued on until we felt like we had gone way too far and stopped to ask the group of about 20 women and children washing clothes in the river, where the house was. Yet another reason we were so thankful to have Justus as our driver rather than attempting these trips alone...our Kiswahili is pretty much limited to, hey how are you, thank you, and i'm doing great. They directed us back down the road and to make a left at the turn off. We pulled up to find a tour bus parked out front and two army officials sitting at the front of the lawn.
We showed our passports, signed in, and made our way from the unfriendly guys in uniform to the circle of about 15 handmade wooden chairs sitting under a huge mango tree (also often referenced in Obama's memoir). Nelson, who would be the translator, seated us amongst the 4 other American tourists (who were in Kenya working at an orphanage) and the two gigantic turkeys wandring about the lawn. Not two minutes later, Mama Sarah came walking up and welcomed us to her home by coming around and shaking each of our hands, saying "welcome" in Luo, her mother tongue, and in English. (Though that seemed to be nearly the extent of her English...every other word spoken was in Luo). It was a beautiful day and we sat for just over an hour on the lawn having a conversation with her and couldn't believe how lucky we were.
She asked for questions and the others spoke up first, asking questions we thought were silly, such as, "did Obama's father grow up here?" Uhhhh.... We were able to ask questions about what the village thought of Obama Sr. when he headed to Hawaii for college (they were very proud but shocked, yet confident that he would return). We asked what she thought high school students in the US should know about Kenya, and she responded that it is a beautiful country with a lot of potential but also with a lot of struggle. Jobs are scarce and poverty is high. The desire for education is everpresent but the money for school fees is not available. When food is scarce, particularly in a drought, any money is spent on food and not school uniforms, so kids are unable to attend. She thought that our kids should know that they should travel to Kenya and share their ideas and help motivate children (and if at all possible, any financial assistance). We had an interesting conversation about the obvious importance of education and the barriers that stand in its way, for both kids in Kenya and some kids in certain contexts in the States.
She also shared information about the work she was doing with orphans (mostly of parents who are dying from AIDS). She said she was grateful for Obama's election for many reasons but especially for the assistance the tourism is affording her village. She asked for any small donation for school fees for the orphaned children, and for the farming school that was underway next to us on the other half of her front lawn. She has hired a tiny staff to train individuals how to make wells and pump water and how to farm more productively. About 10 women were partaking in the training while we were there, which was so awesome to see. Mama Sarah is quite the activist and said multiple times how, despite getting tired sometimes (she's 87), she apprecieates every single visitor and sees them as blessings she would never turn away.
After our chat, we took picutres with her and then walked over to the gravestones of Barack Obama Sr. and his father, which are just 10 steps to the left of where we were sitting. We paid our respects, shook hands with Mama Sarah once again, thanked her, and headed out feeling so lucky for the hour just spent. We couldn't believe we had just chatted with an incredible woman whom we admired so much for her life and her work (and, of course, her grandson). What an incredible morning. (we video taped almost the whole thing so you can watch it when we get home!)
Back on the road...we stopped back through Kisumu at a grocery store to get some bread and PB&J for a quick eat on the road. We spent most of our time in the store looking for the least expired food...we found some that had only expired in June of 09, so we were on our way (that sandwiches tasted like doodoo, by the way, but it was all good). We had planned to drive to Kisii, a town south of Kisumu, so that we could go meet Justus's mother and brother who still lived on the land on which he was raised. His mother had just gotten out of the hospital that morning so since we were so close (well, about two hours south and then about 2 hours back to Kericho where we planned to stay for the night), we thought we'd make the trip. This plan, however, would have given us only 1/2 hr to visit so that we could get back to Kericho before nightfall. Although we really wanted to meet his family, we thought it best that he take us directly to kericho where we could find a hotel among the crazy beautiful and lush tea fields, so that he might be able to go to Kisii and stay the whole night and also have the morning to be with his mom. He loved the idea, so we found a great hotel, The Tea Hotel, and had the whole late afternoon to sip tea and read our books on the beautiful lawn.
We had a great little cottage, quite inexpensive for the quality, and especially in comparison to some of the other places we had stayed (we def. underbudgeted cost of hotels here...and we are finding the quality of some of the midrange are nearly as nice as the high cost places...overall, we might say tourists don't quite get what they pay for in terms of hotels here). Anyway, the Tea Hotel was great, the staff incredibly friendly (and LOVED seeing the pics of Obama's grandma). We had a very relaxing and reflective night and went to bed early so that we could be up early for our tea plantation tour the next morning! We love Kericho! (and had fun fantisizing about moving there and teaching at the Teachers College...don't worry, it was just a thought).
Heading West - Naivasha and Kisumu
Heading to Naivasha - August 8th
Naivasha Country Club, Elsamere Conservatory
We got up early to go pick up the car and head westward to Naivasha. As we are learning here, sometimes getting up early doesn't guarantee you'll get out on time, however. With the traffic jams and matatus it is sometimes difficult to get much done, let alone on a tight schedule. We often think how much more Kenyans would be able to accomplish if not for the terrible traffic, "the jam" as Nairobi residents call it. It's everywhere at everytime in all directions.
We finally made it to the office to pick up the rental car. For $40 USD/day we didn't expect a Mercedes of course but the tiny little toyota that was covered in mud on the outside and smelled of stale smoke with a layer of red dust on the inside was still shocking. As we pulled out of the parking lot the red fuel light began to blink, not even enough to make it out of the city so we made our way to the nearest gas station. Justus, who was our very capable and outstanding driver, just told us it was ok. He is very positive and always reassures us when we think things are going badly.
We drove about 2 and a half hours until we came to Naivasha where we were to spend the night. We were told we just "had to" stay at Naivasha Country Club both for its historic importance (the place the colonists liked to chill) and it's beauty. So we decided that we'd go ahead and pay the expensive rate (which we'd end up balancing out by staying at a "sooper" cheap place the following nights). We walked in and were in awe at the beautiful grounds. There was a well maintained lawn and gorgeous view of Lake Naivasha. We were escorted to our rooms and were a bit shocked at the shabbiness of it all. The room was dank and smelled of mold, the beds were a bit lopsided, the bathroom was crappy and the shampoo bottles were old bottles with the lettering rubbed off that were obviously refilled for each new guest. For a whopping $225/night we were obviously a bit shocked at what our money was buying.
We decided to drop our stuff and head out to see what was around Naivasha. We passed by the Hell's Gate National Park but when we found the price was $30/person to enter plus a car fee we decided we'd think on it and drove to a nearby nature conservatory that Mer found in one of the guide books. The Elsamere Conservatory turned out to be the highlight of our Naivasha visit. It is the former home of Joy and George Adamson who were big conservationists in Kenya (and both murdered oddly enough at separate times). She is famous for her book Born Free about an orphan lion cub named Elsa who she helped to re-introduce to the wild. She seemed to be a nut (in a nice way) and we watched a 20 minute video about her life as she hugged various big wild cats (lions, cheetahs, leopards) and other animals. The center not only hosts tours but also holds classes for school children on the importance of conservation, leads nature hikes and does other things to raise awareness about environmental issues in the Rift Valley area. Very interesting and the place was quite cool. After watching the video we had a tour of the museum and artifacts and then sat for a great afternoon tea on the lawn overlooking the lake.
Here's where it gets funny (and where we wish we could insert a video). We put down our plate of cookies and tea and Jessie went to grab a chair to pull up to the table while Mer turned to wave Justus over to come sit with us. Within seconds a larger Colobus monkey swoops down to our table and grabs a cookie from each of our plates. She sits there and eats it all ravenously, double fisting cookies and looking wildly at us as her baby clinging to her chest tries to understand why the fifteen other tourists who had just happened to walk out to the lawn began crowding around the table snapping photos and videos. Justus stood away from all the mayhem as people crowded around the table to take pics and we stood there cracking up. He couldn't decide if it was funnier that the monkey had stolen our tea snack OR if the real funny part was all these people snapping pics!
After a nice afternoon at Elsamere we drove past a flower farm (there are tons in this town - Naivasha is home to one of the largest flower exporting regions in the world and sends huge shipments to Europe daily). We wanted to see if it was possible to get a tour (not only because both of our mothers are gardening fans but also because we read a lot about the environmental impact of this industry on the region and the conflict with economic interests of local people). We drove up to a few gates before one of them was kind enough to give us the number of a person we could call for a tour. We were thankful for Justus because he helped us get a foot in the door at this place and we were able to schedule a tour of the Nini Farms facilities which would happen on our way back to Nairobi at the end of our Western trip.
We returned to Naivasha country club for a nice evening and to plan the rest of our trip in more detail. We played snooker (it's like pool but the table is double the size almost and there are a ton more balls). It was fun to learn. Then we played gin on the lawn before taking dinner in their dining room - again as disappointing as the rooms with green mashed potatos, curried eggs and an assortment of foods that we found a bit off-putting. We realized that while buffets seem like a nice idea we were tiring of hotel buffet food. We finally headed to bed where we had a very difficult time sleeping because of a very loud party that was taking place on the lawn. We thought of calling the front desk but there were no phones in our room so we each threw a pillow over our head and tried to make it to sleep. It was a long night.
Hells Gate Park, Delamere Estates and Sooper Guesthouse - August 9th
The next morning we awoke at 6:30 to grab breakfast, check out and try to make it to Hell's Gate National park for a morning hike before we hit the road for Nakuru. However, the hotel phones were down and they somehow couldn't accept our debit Visa cards. They called from a cellphone but were unable to get approval for our cards. We asked if they could do the carbon swipe machine that so many other places had done with our cards but they refused citing the inability to get approval. We were quite frustrated at this point and without any cash to pay the bill. We let the front desk clerk know that we were overall very upset about the entire experience from the rooms to the loudness at night and now this but he just kind of smiled and said sorry. Another gentleman came to check out and we noticed he also held in his hand a hotel review form with negative ratings that he wanted to turn in. Erin Jesse would have been upset to know that this former Starwood Hotel member (now independently operated) did not offer to comp or discount anything and then insisted that he send someone with us into town to go to an ATM machine and send the money for the bill back. We were utterly frustrated by the time we got out of the hotel at 8:30.
We finally arrived at Hells Gate National park and decided that the $30 entrance fee might be worth it to walk around, see the park and work out some of our stressful morning. We drove up to see the geothermal plant that had been set up within the park. This enormous plant with pipes weaving in and out of the hills with billowing clouds of sulfur smelling steam is currently providing power to large sections of Kenya but they are hoping that they can eventually use this natural energy source to power much of the country. Very cool to see.
Next we headed to the lower gorge to go for a quick hike (only one hour as we had lost time with the Naivasha Country Club and couldn't do the full thing). We pulled up to the departure point and started to walk around looking for the start of the trail. After five minutes we realized this would be impossible without a guide (no trail markers at all). We went to the rangers booth and paid for a local guide to lead us through the gorge. Bushman Joe was a young masaai man with a big smile and a skinny build. He was wearing a nike track suit and running shoes. The first thing he wanted to know when we said we were from NYC was if we liked 2Pac and Biggie. We laughed and talked briefly about rappers, wishing our friend Debbie was with us - she would've loved to see the smile on this guys face when he asked about 2Pac. What a contradiction it seemed this young masaai guy who still lives in a Masaai village and a huge hip hop fan. He was a great guide and very patient (especially with Jessie who is so scared of heights at having to climb down into the gorge with nothing to grab onto).
As we scaled the side of the gorge over a creek Bushman described his manhood initiation tradition where after circumcision at 18 he and eight other young men went out into the bush for 3 years - their assignment was to kill 3 lions. He reported he was the first to kill one with a spear and his bare hands; this was after a year out there all alone. He reported that 2 of the young men died in the bush and it was a very long and hard period. We cracked up when he said if he had seen us right when he got out of the bush he probably would've taken a bite out of us he was so wild! Funny guy and very open to our questions. Before climbing back up he took us to a warm spring where steaming hot water was pouring out of the rock - very weird!
On our way back in we stopped to buy two bracelets which he explained would be used for the whole community. He explained that all the money he and the other guides earn goes to the village chief who uses the money for the benefit of the whole community. They live communally and he explained how it worked, what money went to and how people got along. Very interesting. We were so glad we had him to take us around instead of wandering about on our own - we might still be there!
We got back into our car and headed for Kisumu. We wanted to stop on our way at the Delamere estates - home to one of the largest land-owning families in Kenya. They were the big colonial lords of the Rift Valley area and notoriously racist and mean to the locals, having stolen thousands of acres of land from local Masaai. One descendant had twice killed Kenyan men who he said were "Poaching" on his land. It wasn't until the 2nd time that he was actually tried in court and only received 8 months in jail for the crime. People are very angry about the whole incident. We were interested to pass by the estate to take pictures of it and show our kids what a traditional colonial estate might have looked like. Unfortunately the estate is not marked by any signs and we had to continually stop and ask directions going back and forth. Finally we found on a small dirt road a sign for "Soysambu Conservatory" and then a small sign behind a bush that said "Delamere Estates".
The guard came to the gate and asked what we were doing there. We told her we were interested in seeing the Delamere Estates and she said why? After we explained we were there studying Kenyan History she radioed to some distant office for permission and we were denied with the excuse that the manager was not there. She told us if we came back on a weekday (it was a sunday) he'd be there to show us around. We said ok, a little frustrated but cool and drove another four hours to Kisumu.
Along the way we passed through tea fields, saw the company housing for workers, happened upon several make shift camps where Post Election Violence victims still live in tents since the violence in January of 2008, looked at the changing scenery and appreciated the opportunity to be seeing Kenya up close and personal. We had considered visiting each place via plane but went with a driver because we thought it would be easier and more helpful in getting to places off the beaten path. What we hadn't really thought about was how informative it would be to just drive through and observe the small towns and villages along the way.
Naivasha Country Club, Elsamere Conservatory
We got up early to go pick up the car and head westward to Naivasha. As we are learning here, sometimes getting up early doesn't guarantee you'll get out on time, however. With the traffic jams and matatus it is sometimes difficult to get much done, let alone on a tight schedule. We often think how much more Kenyans would be able to accomplish if not for the terrible traffic, "the jam" as Nairobi residents call it. It's everywhere at everytime in all directions.
We finally made it to the office to pick up the rental car. For $40 USD/day we didn't expect a Mercedes of course but the tiny little toyota that was covered in mud on the outside and smelled of stale smoke with a layer of red dust on the inside was still shocking. As we pulled out of the parking lot the red fuel light began to blink, not even enough to make it out of the city so we made our way to the nearest gas station. Justus, who was our very capable and outstanding driver, just told us it was ok. He is very positive and always reassures us when we think things are going badly.
We drove about 2 and a half hours until we came to Naivasha where we were to spend the night. We were told we just "had to" stay at Naivasha Country Club both for its historic importance (the place the colonists liked to chill) and it's beauty. So we decided that we'd go ahead and pay the expensive rate (which we'd end up balancing out by staying at a "sooper" cheap place the following nights). We walked in and were in awe at the beautiful grounds. There was a well maintained lawn and gorgeous view of Lake Naivasha. We were escorted to our rooms and were a bit shocked at the shabbiness of it all. The room was dank and smelled of mold, the beds were a bit lopsided, the bathroom was crappy and the shampoo bottles were old bottles with the lettering rubbed off that were obviously refilled for each new guest. For a whopping $225/night we were obviously a bit shocked at what our money was buying.
We decided to drop our stuff and head out to see what was around Naivasha. We passed by the Hell's Gate National Park but when we found the price was $30/person to enter plus a car fee we decided we'd think on it and drove to a nearby nature conservatory that Mer found in one of the guide books. The Elsamere Conservatory turned out to be the highlight of our Naivasha visit. It is the former home of Joy and George Adamson who were big conservationists in Kenya (and both murdered oddly enough at separate times). She is famous for her book Born Free about an orphan lion cub named Elsa who she helped to re-introduce to the wild. She seemed to be a nut (in a nice way) and we watched a 20 minute video about her life as she hugged various big wild cats (lions, cheetahs, leopards) and other animals. The center not only hosts tours but also holds classes for school children on the importance of conservation, leads nature hikes and does other things to raise awareness about environmental issues in the Rift Valley area. Very interesting and the place was quite cool. After watching the video we had a tour of the museum and artifacts and then sat for a great afternoon tea on the lawn overlooking the lake.
Here's where it gets funny (and where we wish we could insert a video). We put down our plate of cookies and tea and Jessie went to grab a chair to pull up to the table while Mer turned to wave Justus over to come sit with us. Within seconds a larger Colobus monkey swoops down to our table and grabs a cookie from each of our plates. She sits there and eats it all ravenously, double fisting cookies and looking wildly at us as her baby clinging to her chest tries to understand why the fifteen other tourists who had just happened to walk out to the lawn began crowding around the table snapping photos and videos. Justus stood away from all the mayhem as people crowded around the table to take pics and we stood there cracking up. He couldn't decide if it was funnier that the monkey had stolen our tea snack OR if the real funny part was all these people snapping pics!
After a nice afternoon at Elsamere we drove past a flower farm (there are tons in this town - Naivasha is home to one of the largest flower exporting regions in the world and sends huge shipments to Europe daily). We wanted to see if it was possible to get a tour (not only because both of our mothers are gardening fans but also because we read a lot about the environmental impact of this industry on the region and the conflict with economic interests of local people). We drove up to a few gates before one of them was kind enough to give us the number of a person we could call for a tour. We were thankful for Justus because he helped us get a foot in the door at this place and we were able to schedule a tour of the Nini Farms facilities which would happen on our way back to Nairobi at the end of our Western trip.
We returned to Naivasha country club for a nice evening and to plan the rest of our trip in more detail. We played snooker (it's like pool but the table is double the size almost and there are a ton more balls). It was fun to learn. Then we played gin on the lawn before taking dinner in their dining room - again as disappointing as the rooms with green mashed potatos, curried eggs and an assortment of foods that we found a bit off-putting. We realized that while buffets seem like a nice idea we were tiring of hotel buffet food. We finally headed to bed where we had a very difficult time sleeping because of a very loud party that was taking place on the lawn. We thought of calling the front desk but there were no phones in our room so we each threw a pillow over our head and tried to make it to sleep. It was a long night.
Hells Gate Park, Delamere Estates and Sooper Guesthouse - August 9th
The next morning we awoke at 6:30 to grab breakfast, check out and try to make it to Hell's Gate National park for a morning hike before we hit the road for Nakuru. However, the hotel phones were down and they somehow couldn't accept our debit Visa cards. They called from a cellphone but were unable to get approval for our cards. We asked if they could do the carbon swipe machine that so many other places had done with our cards but they refused citing the inability to get approval. We were quite frustrated at this point and without any cash to pay the bill. We let the front desk clerk know that we were overall very upset about the entire experience from the rooms to the loudness at night and now this but he just kind of smiled and said sorry. Another gentleman came to check out and we noticed he also held in his hand a hotel review form with negative ratings that he wanted to turn in. Erin Jesse would have been upset to know that this former Starwood Hotel member (now independently operated) did not offer to comp or discount anything and then insisted that he send someone with us into town to go to an ATM machine and send the money for the bill back. We were utterly frustrated by the time we got out of the hotel at 8:30.
We finally arrived at Hells Gate National park and decided that the $30 entrance fee might be worth it to walk around, see the park and work out some of our stressful morning. We drove up to see the geothermal plant that had been set up within the park. This enormous plant with pipes weaving in and out of the hills with billowing clouds of sulfur smelling steam is currently providing power to large sections of Kenya but they are hoping that they can eventually use this natural energy source to power much of the country. Very cool to see.
Next we headed to the lower gorge to go for a quick hike (only one hour as we had lost time with the Naivasha Country Club and couldn't do the full thing). We pulled up to the departure point and started to walk around looking for the start of the trail. After five minutes we realized this would be impossible without a guide (no trail markers at all). We went to the rangers booth and paid for a local guide to lead us through the gorge. Bushman Joe was a young masaai man with a big smile and a skinny build. He was wearing a nike track suit and running shoes. The first thing he wanted to know when we said we were from NYC was if we liked 2Pac and Biggie. We laughed and talked briefly about rappers, wishing our friend Debbie was with us - she would've loved to see the smile on this guys face when he asked about 2Pac. What a contradiction it seemed this young masaai guy who still lives in a Masaai village and a huge hip hop fan. He was a great guide and very patient (especially with Jessie who is so scared of heights at having to climb down into the gorge with nothing to grab onto).
As we scaled the side of the gorge over a creek Bushman described his manhood initiation tradition where after circumcision at 18 he and eight other young men went out into the bush for 3 years - their assignment was to kill 3 lions. He reported he was the first to kill one with a spear and his bare hands; this was after a year out there all alone. He reported that 2 of the young men died in the bush and it was a very long and hard period. We cracked up when he said if he had seen us right when he got out of the bush he probably would've taken a bite out of us he was so wild! Funny guy and very open to our questions. Before climbing back up he took us to a warm spring where steaming hot water was pouring out of the rock - very weird!
On our way back in we stopped to buy two bracelets which he explained would be used for the whole community. He explained that all the money he and the other guides earn goes to the village chief who uses the money for the benefit of the whole community. They live communally and he explained how it worked, what money went to and how people got along. Very interesting. We were so glad we had him to take us around instead of wandering about on our own - we might still be there!
We got back into our car and headed for Kisumu. We wanted to stop on our way at the Delamere estates - home to one of the largest land-owning families in Kenya. They were the big colonial lords of the Rift Valley area and notoriously racist and mean to the locals, having stolen thousands of acres of land from local Masaai. One descendant had twice killed Kenyan men who he said were "Poaching" on his land. It wasn't until the 2nd time that he was actually tried in court and only received 8 months in jail for the crime. People are very angry about the whole incident. We were interested to pass by the estate to take pictures of it and show our kids what a traditional colonial estate might have looked like. Unfortunately the estate is not marked by any signs and we had to continually stop and ask directions going back and forth. Finally we found on a small dirt road a sign for "Soysambu Conservatory" and then a small sign behind a bush that said "Delamere Estates".
The guard came to the gate and asked what we were doing there. We told her we were interested in seeing the Delamere Estates and she said why? After we explained we were there studying Kenyan History she radioed to some distant office for permission and we were denied with the excuse that the manager was not there. She told us if we came back on a weekday (it was a sunday) he'd be there to show us around. We said ok, a little frustrated but cool and drove another four hours to Kisumu.
Along the way we passed through tea fields, saw the company housing for workers, happened upon several make shift camps where Post Election Violence victims still live in tents since the violence in January of 2008, looked at the changing scenery and appreciated the opportunity to be seeing Kenya up close and personal. We had considered visiting each place via plane but went with a driver because we thought it would be easier and more helpful in getting to places off the beaten path. What we hadn't really thought about was how informative it would be to just drive through and observe the small towns and villages along the way.
addendum to safari blog
Two other funny things to note from that part of the trip:
1. Mer was approached by one of the Masaai guys on the last night who offered 10 cows for her "sister" Jessie's hand in marriage. Mer responded at least 20 but that was too much and Jessie wasn't feelin living in the bush and cooking and cleaning for her husband. The clincher was Jessie was informed that on her wedding day, she would be in the house preparing for the marriage while the ceremonies and celebrations were going on outside. Shoot.
2. The night we sat outside late playing cards and chatting with the security guard, we chatted about how the security guard was there to keep elephants and lions out of the hotel grounds. Ten minutes after we had gone to our room, we heard some odd animal sounds. Five minutes later, Phillip, the security guard, came knocking on our door to tell us we had just missed 5 lions who roamed into sight and gave a lot of animals a scare (hense the strange cries we had heard). Though we missed seeing those lions (we only saw one sleeping from afar of one of our safari drives), we fell asleep hearing them roar outside our door. Pretty cool!
1. Mer was approached by one of the Masaai guys on the last night who offered 10 cows for her "sister" Jessie's hand in marriage. Mer responded at least 20 but that was too much and Jessie wasn't feelin living in the bush and cooking and cleaning for her husband. The clincher was Jessie was informed that on her wedding day, she would be in the house preparing for the marriage while the ceremonies and celebrations were going on outside. Shoot.
2. The night we sat outside late playing cards and chatting with the security guard, we chatted about how the security guard was there to keep elephants and lions out of the hotel grounds. Ten minutes after we had gone to our room, we heard some odd animal sounds. Five minutes later, Phillip, the security guard, came knocking on our door to tell us we had just missed 5 lions who roamed into sight and gave a lot of animals a scare (hense the strange cries we had heard). Though we missed seeing those lions (we only saw one sleeping from afar of one of our safari drives), we fell asleep hearing them roar outside our door. Pretty cool!
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Safari at Amboseli National Park
On Wednesday, August 5th, our Safari guide Moses picked us up at Pat's house at 8am to begin our long trek through, what we were told, "bad roads" to get to Amboseli. We were amped and prepared but man, they were not lying about bad roads....Jessie almost passed out on the way for fear of the van tipping over and the excessive amounts of dust that billowed in through the cracks on the bottom of the vehicle. As we drove it was interesting to see the change in scenery the futher we got from Nairobi. The villages became more scattered and smaller (though none less interesting). There were many more Masaai people herding on the very dry land and the savannah we were driving into was beautiful. We saw our first zebra and we kenw it was on. It was an interesting ride and we arrived safely. Moses loved that we were Americans because he was sure we were very rich and would tip him well...he told us that quite a few times along the 5 hour ride!
We checked into our beautiful hotel, Serena Lodge, and were greeted with warm hand and face towels and a glass of fresh OJ. The grounds at the hotel were amazing...a fence seperated the lush green tourist ammenitites from the dry land with many animals grazing just 5 feet from us. The room had great details with beaded lampshades and beautiful bright Masaai colors everywhere. The numerous monkeys running around the hotel was something we just couldn't get over! (We later blamed one for taking Mer's cookie while we were sitting outside reading one afternoon).
On our first game drive that afternoon we saw lots of animals: elephants, wildebeasts, zebras, hyenas, gazelles, buffalo, tons of birds, and much more. Because of the three year drought, the savanna is dangerously dry with one big lake completely dried up, leaving only a couple small lakes, more accurately described as marshes. Sadly, this is having a hugely visible impact on the animals. They appear more dejected or weak than one might think (Moses, our guide, agreed) and the amount of dead zebras was alarming. Many carcuses litter the land, not from animal kills, but from starvation. It makes us see "global warming" in a much different way now. Despite this, there were literally hundreds of animals roaming about, and we kept pinching ourselves to see if we were, in fact, experiencing this very personal safari. It was just the two of us in our vehicle, standing up out of the roof, watching the sun set in the west and reflect pink light on Mt. Kilimanjaro just to the south. That evening was among the most beautiful sunsets either of us had ever seen.
We headed back to the hotel after our two hour game drive for a great buffet dinner that was part of our package and some card playing and drinks. It was such a great atmosphere in which to chill out and reflect. One thing we both found a bit odd, however, was the 4 or 5 Masaai men that Serena Lodge had hired to stand around and talk with the guests. We get it...it's a nice opportunity for guests to talk with people rather than just stare at them out their windows, but in some ways it exacerbated the feeling that Masaai people were "things" to look at and be studied. We did chat with quite a few of the guys and by the end of our 3 day stay we enjoyed talking with one in particular. It just felt odd at first. Of course, Mer had no qualms about asking whether or not strethcing the lobe of the ear hurt (which, of course, they said it did), at what age different cuttings were done (multiple ages...coming of age rituals which begin around age 8), the signifigance of the different bright colors, and whether or not men still had to kill lions in their late teens (yes...two of the men had killed lions with spears and hands, while others had not because the government offers compensation to tribes when a young man comes of age to not kill a lion).
On Thursday the 6th, we were up at the crackof dawn to embark on one of the best mornings of our lives. W were picked up by a different safari vehicle at 5am to go for a hot air balloon ride. We went off-roading into the darkness of the savannah, dodging shurbs as they entered the headlights. It is very cool to be driving around before the sun comes up but also a bit scary too!
We arrived to the take off spot where we met our pilot, Riz, a third generation Kenyan of Indian descent, and the 7 other passengers...those balloon baskets are big! We were amazed as we watched the balloon blow up and apprecieated the warmth of the fire going into the baloon...it's cold in Kenya at this time of year! (maybe 58 degrees at that hour). Guys from the Masaai tribe all work for the company and they thought Jessie, and her fear of heights as she prepared to get in a hot air balloon, was cute. Up and away we went, and it was cool as hell. Just lifting upwards in complete silence (except for Jessie's "oh my god, oh my god") was amazing. The sun was just about up...we were rising moments before it.
We lifted into the clouds, looked around for some CareBears but didn't see any, and 15 seconds after rising above the clouds, we looked East to see the orange sun slowly rising. It was truly the most amazing sight we'd ever seen. We turned around to see the peak of Mt Kilimanjaro...a peak that many don't ever get to see while there because the clouds are so heavy and always present. It was breathtaking and awe-inspiring....an experience we will not forget for a lifetime. We were "in flight" for prob 45 minutes before we had a smooth landing (though pretty close to landing on a "manyatta" (Masaai village). About 10 kids came running up to the balloon and it was cute to see their giggles and fascination.
We then hopped in vehicles to drive us to where we would go for an awesome "champagne breakfast". The drive was as bumpy and dusty as ever but AMAZING...we encountered giraffe and elephants (and of course the many zebra and gazelles) up close and personal. Since we were not on roads, we would just come across the animals eating and the driver pulled right up next to them! (which was cool but scary as I don't know what to be that close to a momma elephant and her baby...). The bacon and eggs and champagne in the middle of the savannah was awesome and we felt like the luckiest people in the world.
We then had the whole late morning and afternoon to relax and read before another game drive at 4pm. We enjoyed the great hotel and on our afternoon drive, saw many hippos chillin out...those things have HUGE mouths! Moses, our driver, who was such a character, was all about trying to get us to spend money, and just HAD to show us another resort where we might stay "the next time we came". Ha...it was really pretty though.
THat night we had a "bush bbq" back at the lodge. We were served many skewers of meat and enjoyed the candle lit tables set up down the hill and in the savannah. They monkey's down there wanted food too...a woman at the table next to us shrieked as one tried to join her for dinner before one of the employees could chase it away...very funny! The BBQ concluded with a traditional Masaai dance, one that is performed at weddings. It was quite interesting...lots of jumping...you'll have to see the video of that! (um....we forgot the camera cord that enables us to upload pics and video at home...you'll get flooded with them all when we get home...sorry bout that!). That night, we also had a great convo with a security guard named Phillip. We were the last ones up at the place, just playing cards and hanging out, so we got to have a nice chat with him. He told us about the difficulty of being Masaai and living in modern Kenya, his dreams of being a marathon runner, the challenge of saving money to buy 5 more cows so that he can offer 10 to the father of his future bride, and many other things. It was a great chat, and we felt lucky to have met him.
The last day we had a relaxing morning, one last game drive, and the 5 hour trip back to Nairobi. Pat greeted us and we told her how nice it was to come "home" and how grateful we were to have her home as our home base. We had a nice homecooked meal, unpacked and repacked, and went to sleep, ready for our next journey which would start at 9am the next morning.
Our time at the computer is up now...we are behind on our blogs but plan to catch up as soon as we have more internet time. We are keeping notes and will be sure to provide more reflections later. We are in the western part of Kenya now, in Kisumu, getting ready to head to Kogelo, Obama's father's village. More updates coming! We are loving Kenya!
(no time to proofread...sorry bout the errors!)
PEACE
We checked into our beautiful hotel, Serena Lodge, and were greeted with warm hand and face towels and a glass of fresh OJ. The grounds at the hotel were amazing...a fence seperated the lush green tourist ammenitites from the dry land with many animals grazing just 5 feet from us. The room had great details with beaded lampshades and beautiful bright Masaai colors everywhere. The numerous monkeys running around the hotel was something we just couldn't get over! (We later blamed one for taking Mer's cookie while we were sitting outside reading one afternoon).
On our first game drive that afternoon we saw lots of animals: elephants, wildebeasts, zebras, hyenas, gazelles, buffalo, tons of birds, and much more. Because of the three year drought, the savanna is dangerously dry with one big lake completely dried up, leaving only a couple small lakes, more accurately described as marshes. Sadly, this is having a hugely visible impact on the animals. They appear more dejected or weak than one might think (Moses, our guide, agreed) and the amount of dead zebras was alarming. Many carcuses litter the land, not from animal kills, but from starvation. It makes us see "global warming" in a much different way now. Despite this, there were literally hundreds of animals roaming about, and we kept pinching ourselves to see if we were, in fact, experiencing this very personal safari. It was just the two of us in our vehicle, standing up out of the roof, watching the sun set in the west and reflect pink light on Mt. Kilimanjaro just to the south. That evening was among the most beautiful sunsets either of us had ever seen.
We headed back to the hotel after our two hour game drive for a great buffet dinner that was part of our package and some card playing and drinks. It was such a great atmosphere in which to chill out and reflect. One thing we both found a bit odd, however, was the 4 or 5 Masaai men that Serena Lodge had hired to stand around and talk with the guests. We get it...it's a nice opportunity for guests to talk with people rather than just stare at them out their windows, but in some ways it exacerbated the feeling that Masaai people were "things" to look at and be studied. We did chat with quite a few of the guys and by the end of our 3 day stay we enjoyed talking with one in particular. It just felt odd at first. Of course, Mer had no qualms about asking whether or not strethcing the lobe of the ear hurt (which, of course, they said it did), at what age different cuttings were done (multiple ages...coming of age rituals which begin around age 8), the signifigance of the different bright colors, and whether or not men still had to kill lions in their late teens (yes...two of the men had killed lions with spears and hands, while others had not because the government offers compensation to tribes when a young man comes of age to not kill a lion).
On Thursday the 6th, we were up at the crackof dawn to embark on one of the best mornings of our lives. W were picked up by a different safari vehicle at 5am to go for a hot air balloon ride. We went off-roading into the darkness of the savannah, dodging shurbs as they entered the headlights. It is very cool to be driving around before the sun comes up but also a bit scary too!
We arrived to the take off spot where we met our pilot, Riz, a third generation Kenyan of Indian descent, and the 7 other passengers...those balloon baskets are big! We were amazed as we watched the balloon blow up and apprecieated the warmth of the fire going into the baloon...it's cold in Kenya at this time of year! (maybe 58 degrees at that hour). Guys from the Masaai tribe all work for the company and they thought Jessie, and her fear of heights as she prepared to get in a hot air balloon, was cute. Up and away we went, and it was cool as hell. Just lifting upwards in complete silence (except for Jessie's "oh my god, oh my god") was amazing. The sun was just about up...we were rising moments before it.
We lifted into the clouds, looked around for some CareBears but didn't see any, and 15 seconds after rising above the clouds, we looked East to see the orange sun slowly rising. It was truly the most amazing sight we'd ever seen. We turned around to see the peak of Mt Kilimanjaro...a peak that many don't ever get to see while there because the clouds are so heavy and always present. It was breathtaking and awe-inspiring....an experience we will not forget for a lifetime. We were "in flight" for prob 45 minutes before we had a smooth landing (though pretty close to landing on a "manyatta" (Masaai village). About 10 kids came running up to the balloon and it was cute to see their giggles and fascination.
We then hopped in vehicles to drive us to where we would go for an awesome "champagne breakfast". The drive was as bumpy and dusty as ever but AMAZING...we encountered giraffe and elephants (and of course the many zebra and gazelles) up close and personal. Since we were not on roads, we would just come across the animals eating and the driver pulled right up next to them! (which was cool but scary as I don't know what to be that close to a momma elephant and her baby...). The bacon and eggs and champagne in the middle of the savannah was awesome and we felt like the luckiest people in the world.
We then had the whole late morning and afternoon to relax and read before another game drive at 4pm. We enjoyed the great hotel and on our afternoon drive, saw many hippos chillin out...those things have HUGE mouths! Moses, our driver, who was such a character, was all about trying to get us to spend money, and just HAD to show us another resort where we might stay "the next time we came". Ha...it was really pretty though.
THat night we had a "bush bbq" back at the lodge. We were served many skewers of meat and enjoyed the candle lit tables set up down the hill and in the savannah. They monkey's down there wanted food too...a woman at the table next to us shrieked as one tried to join her for dinner before one of the employees could chase it away...very funny! The BBQ concluded with a traditional Masaai dance, one that is performed at weddings. It was quite interesting...lots of jumping...you'll have to see the video of that! (um....we forgot the camera cord that enables us to upload pics and video at home...you'll get flooded with them all when we get home...sorry bout that!). That night, we also had a great convo with a security guard named Phillip. We were the last ones up at the place, just playing cards and hanging out, so we got to have a nice chat with him. He told us about the difficulty of being Masaai and living in modern Kenya, his dreams of being a marathon runner, the challenge of saving money to buy 5 more cows so that he can offer 10 to the father of his future bride, and many other things. It was a great chat, and we felt lucky to have met him.
The last day we had a relaxing morning, one last game drive, and the 5 hour trip back to Nairobi. Pat greeted us and we told her how nice it was to come "home" and how grateful we were to have her home as our home base. We had a nice homecooked meal, unpacked and repacked, and went to sleep, ready for our next journey which would start at 9am the next morning.
Our time at the computer is up now...we are behind on our blogs but plan to catch up as soon as we have more internet time. We are keeping notes and will be sure to provide more reflections later. We are in the western part of Kenya now, in Kisumu, getting ready to head to Kogelo, Obama's father's village. More updates coming! We are loving Kenya!
(no time to proofread...sorry bout the errors!)
PEACE
Time in Nairobi - Days 2 and 3
(Sorry for the late posting - internet access is not always easy and we've been ripping and running since we got here).
We were really happy that we stayed up those 24 hours on the trip here, jet lag was not really a problem and we hit the ground running (and haven't stopped!). We are tired but so happy for this opportunity.
Day 2 (8/3)
We decided to hit up Kenyatta University (where Pat's husband Daudi works and which houses a collection of different model homes from the various tribes here in Kenya). Before heading to KU we spent about three hours on the phone and pouring over our guide books looking for places to stay in Mombasa. The Nation (Kenya's big national paper) was reporting that the AGOA conference (trade conf that Hillary Clinton was in town for), some big student music festival and the countries holiday period all meant that the big vacation spots were completely booked up. We called about twenty hotels trying to find spots to squeeze us in. Pat was a great help and we burned through about 2 phone cards but finally we secured hotels both in the west (Kisumu, Naivasha) and in Mombasa. A lot of the hotels are much pricier than we had anticipated so we spend a lot of time crunching numbers, reviewing receipts and fretting over whether or not we'll be able to stay in budget - eek!
Next we headed out to a local beauty parlor where Njeri and Mer wanted to get henna temporary tattoos. Jessie was also persuaded to get one as well. It was really cool and VERY basic - the beauty shop was really just five plastic chairs, one sink to wash hair (though there was no water), one display counter with a few pairs of earrings and a shelf of a few bottles of shampoo. The walls were painted bright orange and there was a lace curtain that hung to separate the shop from the street. Several muslim women came in and out to a mysterious back room, we weren't sure why. The tattoos ended up taking about two hours to apply, pause, wait for them to dry, apply the next one, etc. By the time we left it was quite late.
We departed for KU finally and this was our first chance to ride a matatu - we had to take two to get to KU (each cost between 40 and 50 kenyan shillings). The matatus come in a variety of styles but are basically mini vans with four rows of seats tightly packed in - you can get about 12 in a matatu. The driver (who sits on the right because they have those british style cars and drive on the other side of the street) just drives while another guy hangs out the side of the van calling passengers and collecting fares. Each matatu has its own style, most have loud reggae, afro-beat or hip hop/R&B blasting. They are brightly decorated, have paintings of famous people - we've seen 2Pac, Brittney Spears, Kanye West, Puerto Rican flags, and a lot of Obama, and some even have black lights and Video screens.
The matatus are scary and dangerous and a lot of times we are clinging to the seats, other times we are stuck in never-ending traffic. On the second matatu ride headed towards KU the traffic suddenly slows and there's obviously something ahead causing traffic to merge to one lane on the highway. As we drive by we see a young boy face down on the road with people taking pictures and a video camera trying to collect evidence. It was a hit and run incident, the young boy was killed and the driver had not been apprehended. We looked around on the matatu, everyone looked at the body, shook their head, and there was silence in the van for a while afterwards. We felt the same way - we kept thinking about the boys family. What was missing from the scene was shock. No one seemed surprised and though there was a sadness in it, it wasn't a big enough event to warrant conversation from our hosts. When we started to discuss it they sort of waved the conversation off and moved on. The image of the boy is still fresh in our head.
Finally when we arrived at KU after the two hour matatu ride we were delighted by the campus. We sat down to have some ugali (think grits but finer and cooked drier) and meat with cabbage. It was Jessie's first time with the Kenyan staple and she loved it though wished for sugar and butter on hers! We sat there relaxing and taking in the gorgeous campus. It was already 6 p.m. and the campus was closed so there wasn't a lot to see. We also found out that the models of the different Kenyan villages had been torn down. Still we enjoyed a walk around the large campus, it was a beautiful night, fresh air and a really relaxing environment. Nice to take the edge off the day.
We headed home in a taxi (Daudi paid for it because he thought it was too dark to take a matatu) and that night we had a nice long talk with Daudi. We talked about political corruption, the diversity of religions in Kenya, tribal divisions (and how they disappear abroad), and even how to get out of meetings with a phone program called "call interupter manager" which basically allows you to fake a call from someone to get you out of a conversation or meeting (BOBBIE!). Daudi is a really nice and interesting guy and had some new perspectives on some of the questions we had.
Day 3 - 8/4/09
Today was the day that matatus stopped being fun for us. Though the previous days incident with the boy on the highway already had us heading in this direction, on this day we discovered that after one or two rides in a matatu it is worth looking in your budget to see if you can afford taxis!
We headed out in the morning for Nairobi's National Museum of Kenya which is the most famous museum in Kenya. We got a late start but when we got to the crowded stop we had to wait for a matatu. We got on one that was really loud and fun - it had a video screen which was bumping all old R&B and hip hop videos from our college years. We had fun singing along. Jessie was also really taken by the four young muslim women in full hijab (bui-bui) who got in the matatu with us. One was fully covered with only small slits for her eyes. We wondered, why are some allowed to show their faces and others not. The one with her face covered was bumping and dancing to the music and kept getting annoyed when the person in front of her was blocking her view of the videos. It was an interesting and perplexing thing to watch. There are a lot of muslim people in the section where Pat lives (south c) and a mosque that wakes us with its call at 5 am every morning. What has been really interesting is to see how the different cultures of people influence how they dress and practice islam (even in the same country). The Somali muslims are very different than some of the other tribes. Some people where clothing we'd imagine people in arabic countries to wear, while others where wearing scarves made from more traditional african fabric. There is so much diversity here of religion, ethnic groups and cultures all in Kenya - what we should, but don't often, expect from a country that proudly calls itself the birthplace of humanity.
Finally we arrived at the museum which was a bit of a disappointment. The museum had undergone some renovations and had a very modern (and expensive) coffee shop and a new gift shop but the exhibits were a bit neglected. There was a wonderful (read REALLY wonderful) photography exhibit by a man named Patrick Armory but was curated very poorly - no captions for photos, very short explanation of the exhibit, and the only thing with any info was a copy of the exhibit brochure taped to the wall (they had no other copies and no books of his for sale in the museum shop but we have vowed to find it online). There was also an interesting (but very elementary) exhibit called the "cycles of life" which showed the traditions and routines of various cultures through the different stages of life from birth to death. On the first floor we were really impressed with an exhibit on evolution showing skulls found from early humans until today. It was really amazing to see skull pieces over a million years old and we couldn't help but think that Jessie's grandmother would've loved to see it. The Kenyan's are very proud of their place in history as the craddle of humanity and love to show all the fossils that have been found here. We enjoyed seeing this exhibit.
We left the museum at 5 pm and walked to the matatu stop with Pat and Njeri. After waiting 30 minutes and seeing that every matatu was full we decided to walk down town to catch a different one. We walked for about 45 minutes and happened upon this really well maintained, pretty area of downtown which housed the famous Norfolk Hotel, the National Theater and a pretty park. We were surprised to find it in the middle of very noisy, crowded and often gray downtown Nairobi.
We stopped for a hot chocolate and then as soon as we turned the corner we found ourselves back in the downtown Nairobi we had passed through several times. We had to walk about ten more blocks to the matatu station that would take us home. On the way Pat decided to head into the big supermarket to pick up bread for the next day so Njeri, Mer and Jessie waited outside. By now it was dark and all of a sudden Nairobi felt a lot more tense and dangerous. People were staring at us as we waited against the wall but no one really bothered us and we started to relax. Pat was taking a long time and we were laughing about something when a young man, obviously high, extremely dirty, with yellow eyes and brown teeth approached us and reached for Mer's coffee. When she said no he couldn't have any he kept reaching, now grabbing her arm. Njere told him to leave us alone in Swahili but he looked at us with there really wild, jaded eyes and seemed desperate for this coffee Mer was holding. He reached for her again while he waved an old glass bottle with yellow gooey stuff at the bottom (he was sniffing glue). Pat walked out just at this moment so we began the trek to our matatu stop. The guy began following us so Njere and Jessie crowded around Mer and pushed her out of his reach. We'd cross the street and he'd appear again. For some reason none of us thought to just hand over the coffee! We crossed another big street and he was heading towards us again so Jessie turned around and yelled "Stop" at him and he looked up at us, stood still and turned around and walked away. After that Jessie wouldn't let Mer (or her purse) go and was holding on to both with white knuckles. Mer couldn't stop laughing (though she was also scared) at the situation and how the man was so thirsty for the coffee but for some reason she hadn't thought to just give it to him.
When we arrived at the station finally it was packed so we stood at a nearby corner where there was an illegal matatu station. Still three matatus came and went and we still weren't on one. By now everyone, Pat, Njere, Mer and Jessie, were tired of matatus, downtown nairobi and the dark. We were anxious to get out of there and feeling desperate to leave - it dawned on us to take a taxi since we had the money and get out of there.
After a stop for some dinner we were finally home where we had to hurry and pack for our trip to Amboselli and our safari the following day!
We were really happy that we stayed up those 24 hours on the trip here, jet lag was not really a problem and we hit the ground running (and haven't stopped!). We are tired but so happy for this opportunity.
Day 2 (8/3)
We decided to hit up Kenyatta University (where Pat's husband Daudi works and which houses a collection of different model homes from the various tribes here in Kenya). Before heading to KU we spent about three hours on the phone and pouring over our guide books looking for places to stay in Mombasa. The Nation (Kenya's big national paper) was reporting that the AGOA conference (trade conf that Hillary Clinton was in town for), some big student music festival and the countries holiday period all meant that the big vacation spots were completely booked up. We called about twenty hotels trying to find spots to squeeze us in. Pat was a great help and we burned through about 2 phone cards but finally we secured hotels both in the west (Kisumu, Naivasha) and in Mombasa. A lot of the hotels are much pricier than we had anticipated so we spend a lot of time crunching numbers, reviewing receipts and fretting over whether or not we'll be able to stay in budget - eek!
Next we headed out to a local beauty parlor where Njeri and Mer wanted to get henna temporary tattoos. Jessie was also persuaded to get one as well. It was really cool and VERY basic - the beauty shop was really just five plastic chairs, one sink to wash hair (though there was no water), one display counter with a few pairs of earrings and a shelf of a few bottles of shampoo. The walls were painted bright orange and there was a lace curtain that hung to separate the shop from the street. Several muslim women came in and out to a mysterious back room, we weren't sure why. The tattoos ended up taking about two hours to apply, pause, wait for them to dry, apply the next one, etc. By the time we left it was quite late.
We departed for KU finally and this was our first chance to ride a matatu - we had to take two to get to KU (each cost between 40 and 50 kenyan shillings). The matatus come in a variety of styles but are basically mini vans with four rows of seats tightly packed in - you can get about 12 in a matatu. The driver (who sits on the right because they have those british style cars and drive on the other side of the street) just drives while another guy hangs out the side of the van calling passengers and collecting fares. Each matatu has its own style, most have loud reggae, afro-beat or hip hop/R&B blasting. They are brightly decorated, have paintings of famous people - we've seen 2Pac, Brittney Spears, Kanye West, Puerto Rican flags, and a lot of Obama, and some even have black lights and Video screens.
The matatus are scary and dangerous and a lot of times we are clinging to the seats, other times we are stuck in never-ending traffic. On the second matatu ride headed towards KU the traffic suddenly slows and there's obviously something ahead causing traffic to merge to one lane on the highway. As we drive by we see a young boy face down on the road with people taking pictures and a video camera trying to collect evidence. It was a hit and run incident, the young boy was killed and the driver had not been apprehended. We looked around on the matatu, everyone looked at the body, shook their head, and there was silence in the van for a while afterwards. We felt the same way - we kept thinking about the boys family. What was missing from the scene was shock. No one seemed surprised and though there was a sadness in it, it wasn't a big enough event to warrant conversation from our hosts. When we started to discuss it they sort of waved the conversation off and moved on. The image of the boy is still fresh in our head.
Finally when we arrived at KU after the two hour matatu ride we were delighted by the campus. We sat down to have some ugali (think grits but finer and cooked drier) and meat with cabbage. It was Jessie's first time with the Kenyan staple and she loved it though wished for sugar and butter on hers! We sat there relaxing and taking in the gorgeous campus. It was already 6 p.m. and the campus was closed so there wasn't a lot to see. We also found out that the models of the different Kenyan villages had been torn down. Still we enjoyed a walk around the large campus, it was a beautiful night, fresh air and a really relaxing environment. Nice to take the edge off the day.
We headed home in a taxi (Daudi paid for it because he thought it was too dark to take a matatu) and that night we had a nice long talk with Daudi. We talked about political corruption, the diversity of religions in Kenya, tribal divisions (and how they disappear abroad), and even how to get out of meetings with a phone program called "call interupter manager" which basically allows you to fake a call from someone to get you out of a conversation or meeting (BOBBIE!). Daudi is a really nice and interesting guy and had some new perspectives on some of the questions we had.
Day 3 - 8/4/09
Today was the day that matatus stopped being fun for us. Though the previous days incident with the boy on the highway already had us heading in this direction, on this day we discovered that after one or two rides in a matatu it is worth looking in your budget to see if you can afford taxis!
We headed out in the morning for Nairobi's National Museum of Kenya which is the most famous museum in Kenya. We got a late start but when we got to the crowded stop we had to wait for a matatu. We got on one that was really loud and fun - it had a video screen which was bumping all old R&B and hip hop videos from our college years. We had fun singing along. Jessie was also really taken by the four young muslim women in full hijab (bui-bui) who got in the matatu with us. One was fully covered with only small slits for her eyes. We wondered, why are some allowed to show their faces and others not. The one with her face covered was bumping and dancing to the music and kept getting annoyed when the person in front of her was blocking her view of the videos. It was an interesting and perplexing thing to watch. There are a lot of muslim people in the section where Pat lives (south c) and a mosque that wakes us with its call at 5 am every morning. What has been really interesting is to see how the different cultures of people influence how they dress and practice islam (even in the same country). The Somali muslims are very different than some of the other tribes. Some people where clothing we'd imagine people in arabic countries to wear, while others where wearing scarves made from more traditional african fabric. There is so much diversity here of religion, ethnic groups and cultures all in Kenya - what we should, but don't often, expect from a country that proudly calls itself the birthplace of humanity.
Finally we arrived at the museum which was a bit of a disappointment. The museum had undergone some renovations and had a very modern (and expensive) coffee shop and a new gift shop but the exhibits were a bit neglected. There was a wonderful (read REALLY wonderful) photography exhibit by a man named Patrick Armory but was curated very poorly - no captions for photos, very short explanation of the exhibit, and the only thing with any info was a copy of the exhibit brochure taped to the wall (they had no other copies and no books of his for sale in the museum shop but we have vowed to find it online). There was also an interesting (but very elementary) exhibit called the "cycles of life" which showed the traditions and routines of various cultures through the different stages of life from birth to death. On the first floor we were really impressed with an exhibit on evolution showing skulls found from early humans until today. It was really amazing to see skull pieces over a million years old and we couldn't help but think that Jessie's grandmother would've loved to see it. The Kenyan's are very proud of their place in history as the craddle of humanity and love to show all the fossils that have been found here. We enjoyed seeing this exhibit.
We left the museum at 5 pm and walked to the matatu stop with Pat and Njeri. After waiting 30 minutes and seeing that every matatu was full we decided to walk down town to catch a different one. We walked for about 45 minutes and happened upon this really well maintained, pretty area of downtown which housed the famous Norfolk Hotel, the National Theater and a pretty park. We were surprised to find it in the middle of very noisy, crowded and often gray downtown Nairobi.
We stopped for a hot chocolate and then as soon as we turned the corner we found ourselves back in the downtown Nairobi we had passed through several times. We had to walk about ten more blocks to the matatu station that would take us home. On the way Pat decided to head into the big supermarket to pick up bread for the next day so Njeri, Mer and Jessie waited outside. By now it was dark and all of a sudden Nairobi felt a lot more tense and dangerous. People were staring at us as we waited against the wall but no one really bothered us and we started to relax. Pat was taking a long time and we were laughing about something when a young man, obviously high, extremely dirty, with yellow eyes and brown teeth approached us and reached for Mer's coffee. When she said no he couldn't have any he kept reaching, now grabbing her arm. Njere told him to leave us alone in Swahili but he looked at us with there really wild, jaded eyes and seemed desperate for this coffee Mer was holding. He reached for her again while he waved an old glass bottle with yellow gooey stuff at the bottom (he was sniffing glue). Pat walked out just at this moment so we began the trek to our matatu stop. The guy began following us so Njere and Jessie crowded around Mer and pushed her out of his reach. We'd cross the street and he'd appear again. For some reason none of us thought to just hand over the coffee! We crossed another big street and he was heading towards us again so Jessie turned around and yelled "Stop" at him and he looked up at us, stood still and turned around and walked away. After that Jessie wouldn't let Mer (or her purse) go and was holding on to both with white knuckles. Mer couldn't stop laughing (though she was also scared) at the situation and how the man was so thirsty for the coffee but for some reason she hadn't thought to just give it to him.
When we arrived at the station finally it was packed so we stood at a nearby corner where there was an illegal matatu station. Still three matatus came and went and we still weren't on one. By now everyone, Pat, Njere, Mer and Jessie, were tired of matatus, downtown nairobi and the dark. We were anxious to get out of there and feeling desperate to leave - it dawned on us to take a taxi since we had the money and get out of there.
After a stop for some dinner we were finally home where we had to hurry and pack for our trip to Amboselli and our safari the following day!
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Day One in Kenya
We arrived incredibly excited and tired to Jomo Kenyatta Airport around 7:30pm last night (7 hours ahead of nyc)! We were so grateful to be greeted by our friend Pat, who had come to pick us up and take us to her place. Though exhausted, we were giddy to finally be here and were staring out the window like little kids the whole ride home. We sat around and chatted with Pat, her husband Daudi, and Njeri (her good friend/"daughter") and ate some money mangos. Shortly after, we could keep our eyes open no longer, and went to bed. aahhhh.
Anyway, we slept forever, not waking up until 10:30am! We were happy to have slept so long so that our jet lag might not be so bad, but were a bit frustrated because we were looking forward to going to a 10am churh service at which Njeri was singing. Luckily, however, there was another service at noon so we got to attend and hear her band perform.
It was an interesting and fun service...the music was great and we even had to stand to be recognized as guests! After much singing and individual prayer, the pastor finally addressed the congregation for a short while. (English is national language so no prob's understanding anything). His message was short so that he could introduce another pastor to give the sermon...ironically, an American guy. He gave an interesting presentation (powerpoint included...with video clips from LesMiserables) that focused on ways that Kenyans need to love one another as God loves, so that the country might begin to combat violence that is so prevelant in the country. It was a good message, and conveyed well, but as two Americans, it felt a little strange to be sitting in a chuch filled with Kenyan parishioners, listening to a lecture about how to bring about change in Kenya from an American missionary. Pat and Njeri said they enjoyed the sermon as we discussed it over lunch, and we did too, it just felt kind of weird. Nonetheless, attending an uplifting service with beautiful singing on a beautiful day was really a nice way to begin our trip.
We hopped in a matatu (taxi-vans into which many many people pile) and then another, to head to a great resturant for lunch that was walking distance from the festival we were going to dip into. The festival was a Hay Festival (it was a literary festival to celebrate reading for fun and for local writers to share their work...harvesting literature, hense "hay festival"). The festival involved a bunch of tents showcasing local art and writing with people milling around and having some drinks.
Then, on center stage, Story Moja (One Story) began. There was a comedic emcee who did his short funny productions before introducing each short story writer. It was the short story finals and the six finalists presented their work. Many of them were quite good, and it was really nice to sit outside in the 78 degree weather and listen to people tell stories. We loved it. The girl who won was a high school student (her story may not have gotten our vote though!) and it was cute to watch all of her friends freak out and wipe their tears of excitement as their friend's name was called as the winner, which earned her a trip to the UK for their upcoming story telling festival!
We got back into the matatus (40 bop, the slang for shillings...exchange rate currently is 7.6 to 1 USD) and headed back home. We are here in this little internet cafe now, just below Pat's flat, getting ready to head up for a homecooked meal.
Today was a great way to start the trip! We are feeling so lucky and grateful and happy to be here. We hope you are all well, too. Keep reading!
Anyway, we slept forever, not waking up until 10:30am! We were happy to have slept so long so that our jet lag might not be so bad, but were a bit frustrated because we were looking forward to going to a 10am churh service at which Njeri was singing. Luckily, however, there was another service at noon so we got to attend and hear her band perform.
It was an interesting and fun service...the music was great and we even had to stand to be recognized as guests! After much singing and individual prayer, the pastor finally addressed the congregation for a short while. (English is national language so no prob's understanding anything). His message was short so that he could introduce another pastor to give the sermon...ironically, an American guy. He gave an interesting presentation (powerpoint included...with video clips from LesMiserables) that focused on ways that Kenyans need to love one another as God loves, so that the country might begin to combat violence that is so prevelant in the country. It was a good message, and conveyed well, but as two Americans, it felt a little strange to be sitting in a chuch filled with Kenyan parishioners, listening to a lecture about how to bring about change in Kenya from an American missionary. Pat and Njeri said they enjoyed the sermon as we discussed it over lunch, and we did too, it just felt kind of weird. Nonetheless, attending an uplifting service with beautiful singing on a beautiful day was really a nice way to begin our trip.
We hopped in a matatu (taxi-vans into which many many people pile) and then another, to head to a great resturant for lunch that was walking distance from the festival we were going to dip into. The festival was a Hay Festival (it was a literary festival to celebrate reading for fun and for local writers to share their work...harvesting literature, hense "hay festival"). The festival involved a bunch of tents showcasing local art and writing with people milling around and having some drinks.
Then, on center stage, Story Moja (One Story) began. There was a comedic emcee who did his short funny productions before introducing each short story writer. It was the short story finals and the six finalists presented their work. Many of them were quite good, and it was really nice to sit outside in the 78 degree weather and listen to people tell stories. We loved it. The girl who won was a high school student (her story may not have gotten our vote though!) and it was cute to watch all of her friends freak out and wipe their tears of excitement as their friend's name was called as the winner, which earned her a trip to the UK for their upcoming story telling festival!
We got back into the matatus (40 bop, the slang for shillings...exchange rate currently is 7.6 to 1 USD) and headed back home. We are here in this little internet cafe now, just below Pat's flat, getting ready to head up for a homecooked meal.
Today was a great way to start the trip! We are feeling so lucky and grateful and happy to be here. We hope you are all well, too. Keep reading!
How to Combat Jet Lag
7/31 JFK International Airport
New York to Dubai
As we sat in the airport making our final phone calls to friends and family it finally hit us that we were about to board a plane for Kenya almost 9 months after beginning our planning. The plane was completely as we all filed in to take our seats we looked around and tried to guess where everyone was going.
We had decided to go with Emirates airline because so many rave about the service - and they weren't wrong! First of all each seat had its own television screen (touch screen) and a whole entertainment system with video games, movies, tv shows and news on twitter. It was almost perfect except Mer's screen was broken and Jessie's sound didn't work!!!!!!
However, after the first hour they actually reset the plane's entire system of entertainment and when it came on we both had working monitors. While we'd like to claim it was because we were so assertive it was probably the guy in front of us who asked the flight attendant every five minutes. In addition to entertainment, the food was awesome and every two hours they were shoving more of it in our faces.
Finally twelve hours later (and three movies) we arrived in Dubai for a 7 hour layover. Because we'd gotten less than two hours of sleep between the two of us we decided to try and keep busy and awake so we could try and sleep on the next leg of the trip.
TOUR Of DUBAI
Dubai, famous for its oil money, didn't exist thirty years ago. We hired a car to take us around for two hours. First of all it was 98 degrees out with 75% humidity (read: Hades) and the air was thick with yellow dust. The car was working hard to keep us air conditioned but really you can't fight that kind of heat - as ebony says it felt like we were going to burst into flames.
For the next two hours we toured the whole city and found out how far oil money goes. The emiratis have built an entire island (13 kilometers) filled with luxury shopping, housing and the worlds only 7 star hotel. The hotel is 27 stories tall with each floor being a suite - the prices range from $8,000/night to over $60,000. We also saw some of the more humble hotels (5 and 6 stars) with rooms only $6,000/night. Other than hotels (which there were literally hundreds of!!!) there were tons of shops and stores. After the first two or three that we drove by it was hard to maintain our "oohs" and "ahhhs" as the driver proudly showed off all of the over the top hotels and shopping malls. On every block there were at least 2 sky scrapers or buildings under construction and our tour guide bragged that they were constructing ANOTHER man made island that was going to be two times the size of the one we had toured earlier.
It just seemed so far out of our own worlds that it was hard to understand how so much money was being wasted in the name of "Luxury" holidays and vacations. In fact what was most absurd was the fact that it was so dusty and hot outside that no one was on the street and only 3 swimmers on the beach...why travel so far to be stuck in your hotel??!
One sign on a luxury hand bag store, named "Sauce", had a sign in the window:
"What did the saucy queen wear to the recession?
Her brand new, super hot, super shiny shopping bag!
Let them add sauce..."
It was a little unreal reading that sign and thinking how we would never see a sign like that at home. But that is the reality of Dubai and from what we could tell the construction and trade boom were going ahead at full speed (though one person from Australia said they were having a minor slow down).
After seeing all the stores and hotels we headed back to catch our flight from Dubai to Kenya. We both agreed that our short visit there was about all we needed and though it was good to see we probably wouldn't ever need to return again.
DUBAI to KENYA
The flight, 5 hours total, flew by quickly. We each slept an additional hour and started to get really excited to get to our final destination. The plane was PACKED with tourists, in fact there were hardly many Kenyans at all. This is high season in Kenya and when we landed there were two other planes deboarding also. We stood in line for about 45 minutes waiting for our visas. Very different than Dubai, the beauracracy was still done by hand and each visa was hand written along with a receipt. We picked up our bags and almost ran outside happy to finally be in Kenya.
24 hours later we had arrived.
New York to Dubai
As we sat in the airport making our final phone calls to friends and family it finally hit us that we were about to board a plane for Kenya almost 9 months after beginning our planning. The plane was completely as we all filed in to take our seats we looked around and tried to guess where everyone was going.
We had decided to go with Emirates airline because so many rave about the service - and they weren't wrong! First of all each seat had its own television screen (touch screen) and a whole entertainment system with video games, movies, tv shows and news on twitter. It was almost perfect except Mer's screen was broken and Jessie's sound didn't work!!!!!!
However, after the first hour they actually reset the plane's entire system of entertainment and when it came on we both had working monitors. While we'd like to claim it was because we were so assertive it was probably the guy in front of us who asked the flight attendant every five minutes. In addition to entertainment, the food was awesome and every two hours they were shoving more of it in our faces.
Finally twelve hours later (and three movies) we arrived in Dubai for a 7 hour layover. Because we'd gotten less than two hours of sleep between the two of us we decided to try and keep busy and awake so we could try and sleep on the next leg of the trip.
TOUR Of DUBAI
Dubai, famous for its oil money, didn't exist thirty years ago. We hired a car to take us around for two hours. First of all it was 98 degrees out with 75% humidity (read: Hades) and the air was thick with yellow dust. The car was working hard to keep us air conditioned but really you can't fight that kind of heat - as ebony says it felt like we were going to burst into flames.
For the next two hours we toured the whole city and found out how far oil money goes. The emiratis have built an entire island (13 kilometers) filled with luxury shopping, housing and the worlds only 7 star hotel. The hotel is 27 stories tall with each floor being a suite - the prices range from $8,000/night to over $60,000. We also saw some of the more humble hotels (5 and 6 stars) with rooms only $6,000/night. Other than hotels (which there were literally hundreds of!!!) there were tons of shops and stores. After the first two or three that we drove by it was hard to maintain our "oohs" and "ahhhs" as the driver proudly showed off all of the over the top hotels and shopping malls. On every block there were at least 2 sky scrapers or buildings under construction and our tour guide bragged that they were constructing ANOTHER man made island that was going to be two times the size of the one we had toured earlier.
It just seemed so far out of our own worlds that it was hard to understand how so much money was being wasted in the name of "Luxury" holidays and vacations. In fact what was most absurd was the fact that it was so dusty and hot outside that no one was on the street and only 3 swimmers on the beach...why travel so far to be stuck in your hotel??!
One sign on a luxury hand bag store, named "Sauce", had a sign in the window:
"What did the saucy queen wear to the recession?
Her brand new, super hot, super shiny shopping bag!
Let them add sauce..."
It was a little unreal reading that sign and thinking how we would never see a sign like that at home. But that is the reality of Dubai and from what we could tell the construction and trade boom were going ahead at full speed (though one person from Australia said they were having a minor slow down).
After seeing all the stores and hotels we headed back to catch our flight from Dubai to Kenya. We both agreed that our short visit there was about all we needed and though it was good to see we probably wouldn't ever need to return again.
DUBAI to KENYA
The flight, 5 hours total, flew by quickly. We each slept an additional hour and started to get really excited to get to our final destination. The plane was PACKED with tourists, in fact there were hardly many Kenyans at all. This is high season in Kenya and when we landed there were two other planes deboarding also. We stood in line for about 45 minutes waiting for our visas. Very different than Dubai, the beauracracy was still done by hand and each visa was hand written along with a receipt. We picked up our bags and almost ran outside happy to finally be in Kenya.
24 hours later we had arrived.
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