A Lamu Christmas

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By Christina

It has been close to eighteen years since Dan and I were in Lamu, but this little slice of heaven really hasn’t changed that much in the ensuing years. There are still women roaming about in burqas (black robes with only eyes, and hennaed hands and feet visible), men wearing skirts (oh-so-practical in this heat), donkeys on the loose, and beautiful views of the Indian Ocean from rooftop restaurants and terraces. Lamu is nearly 100% Muslim and a seemingly odd choice for our Christmas break; yet, the place is perfect for us, with a sunny (albeit sticky) climate and friendly people. Plus, the fishing here is great.

Lamu (a World Heritage Site) is a small island located off the northern coast of Kenya. In fact, it is pretty darn close to the Somalia border. (I mention this only to tweak my father, who gets heartburn every time I note our proximity to “peace-challenged” countries. We have been close to some spicy places on this trip but (knock wood), we have at all times felt safe). There are a number of ways to get to Lamu, but we chose the fastest - flying directly from Nairobi, and arriving in less than two hours. Of course the airstrip is a dirt strip (dad wouldn’t like this either) on neighboring Manda Island where, after landing, one takes a dhow (boat) a mile or so across a small channel to Lamu.

Kenya is holding national elections on the 27^th of December and one of the passengers on the boat was a candidate for President. His arrival was greeted with enthusiastic, cheering crowds, who proceeded to parade with him throughout the town. Evidently, he is popular in these parts, as the coastal folks feel that the current President has neglected them these past few years. The election is a big deal in Kenya and nearly every person we have met has talked to us about the upcoming vote. Every day in Lamu, we have heard rallies and speeches emanating from the town square. The consensus is that the current President will be reelected, however, it is going to be close and there is some concern that people will riot if he is not reelected (sorry, dad). So there is a bit of a “wait and see” feel to what’s going on.

We are staying in the old town of Lamu, an area first settled in the 15^th Century by Arabic traders. This area is called Stonetown, but for the life of me, I can’t recall why. Maybe it is because most of the buildings are made from whitewashed stone. (Nana arrives with the East Africa Lonely Planet in a few days, so stay tuned). Stonetown is comprised of winding alleyways lined with shops and Arabic-styled homes. There is a drainage ditch that lines the pathways through town (based on Abby’s surveillance, we are pretty sure all Lamu waste finds it way to these drains), so it is a bit of a challenge dodging donkeys and their poop, while avoiding falling into the ditch. All scatological aspects aside, Lamu is one the coolest places on the planet, with just the right combination of creature comforts and real Africa.

We had rented a house for our week here and were not sure what we would find. We lucked out. The place is two or three hundred years old (we have received differing reports) and personifies indoor/outdoor living at its finest. What I mean is, apart from the bathrooms and a couple of bedrooms, everything is open and fronts a central courtyard. (Upon arrival, Abby commented, “I don’t get this place; where are the doors and stuff?”) There are beds scattered throughout, and the kids have had fun deciding where to sleep each night. On the bottom floor is a garden and tiny dipping pool which has proved to be a great thing to have. On the top floor, where Dan and I are sleeping, there is an open terrace with views across the thatched rooftops of Lamu town and over the channel to Manda Island.

As is frequently the case in Africa, the house comes with a cook/housekeeper, in this case, Ali. Our first morning here, Grayson and I accompanied Ali to the market to buy food for breakfast and dinner. Although we only picked up a few items (let’s just say we would have qualified for the Express Line at Safeway), the entire process took well over an hour. Ali is like the Mayor of Lamu or something. We had to stop and greet everyone (I think he even kissed a baby). Then, when it came time to purchase the fruits and veggies, there was the requisite sniffing and squeezing session. Next, there was a long discussion about price. Of course, Grayson and I (relegated to a nearby bench) were there only to observe, oh, and to give money when ordered. I say “ordered” because many social niceties are lost on our friend Ali, or, perhaps, it’s the language barrier, as he speaks very little English and my Swahili needs work. By the time we got home, it was close to eleven and the four of us were ravenous. (Ironically, Dan made the porridge for breakfast, as Ali had never seen the stuff before; however, he is great at cutting mango, a task I have never been able to master).

After our late breakfast, we whiled away the day frolicking at nearby Shela Beach enjoying the waves and the sun (but not too much, as the equatorial sun is wicked), made plans for a fishing trip, and shopped. Resting, fishing, shopping and eating pretty much sums up our time spent in Lamu.

Our two deep sea fishing trips were a blast. Our captain both times was Sunshine, a Rasta dude (real name Hassan), who was quite the sailor and a ton of fun to hang out with. The tackle he provided was a bit of a challenge – a piece of wood with a hook and a rusty nail as a sinker – but we got along just fine. In fact, we were quite successful. The first time out, Grayson caught 7 fish, Abby 5, and Christina 2 (Dan had the day off). The second time out, Grayson caught an octopus plus 3 fish, Abby caught 3, and Dan 3 (Christina had the day off). The highlight of the day was the post-fishing feast on Manda Island, where we chowed down on grilled fish, curry vegetables, and coconut rice.

The second time out, Dan and the kids had an especially exciting return to Lamu. Over the course of the afternoon, the winds had really picked up (so much so that I was getting a little worried). On the way across the channel the wind was too strong to use the sail and Sunshine’s dhow nearly toppled into the sea. A nearby dhow was not able to right itself, however, and capsized in the middle of the channel, dumping its load of tourists overboard. Dan and Sunshine immediately dove in to help, but luckily no one was hurt. I was watching everything from shore (sipping my mango shake, I might add) and for a minute thought Sunshine’s dhow had sunk. (I could only see heads bobbing in the water). I was quickly reassured by one of my new Rasta buddies (Lamu is full of Rastafarians, all of whom are the sweetest guys around, and all of whom are my new best friends), who said “mama, your babies are okay.” The kids loved the adventure and were quite pleased with their assistance in the rescue mission.

Arguably our second main pastime here in Lamu has been shopping. Cool Afro-Arabic trinkets - beaded items, baskets, kikois (Dan and I swear by these cotton wraps, using ours as a towel, skirt, hat, etc.), silver, and carved boxes – are everywhere. Kenya is not cheap. In fact, it has been a rude awakening after Ethiopia. Nevertheless, we have coughed up the Kenyan shillings for a few especially cool items (e.g., you may note the appearance of beaded necklaces and bracelets in photos going forward). Even if you are not buying, it is fun to walk the streets where people constantly greet you with “Jambo” (hello) and “Habari” (welcome). (The kids were also surprised to learn that people here really do say “Hakuna Matata” (no problem), just like in The Lion King).

Ali has turned out to be a good cook and a good sport when I tease him or take over in the kitchen (e.g., when he wanted to use catsup as spaghetti sauce for Abby’s noodles). He and I went to the market a few more times and, now that I know the drill, it was actually quite enjoyable. My favorite exchange with him, however, was when he asked me incredulously, “You do not have flies at home?” Let’s just say he has a lower threshold for cleanliness than I have….

But, what about Christmas, you ask? Well, we did our best. I had been carrying around the kids’ stockings since August, so they were hung from the thatched roof with care. I had Dan move a potted plant next to the stockings, and we decorated it with multi-colored clothespins and Abby’s hair items (because they too were colorful and festive). Truthfully, though, it was a bit pathetic. But, we made do, blasting Diana Krall’s Christmas album on the iPod speakers and putting out cookies (store bought – horrors!) for the big guy in the red suit. Family and friends were dearly missed, but in our hearts we knew we would be back safe and sound for Christmas with everyone next year, and that this Lamu Christmas was something special.