Nairobi, Kenya

Our Kenyan Airways flight was uneventful – which is a good thing. We were told that it would take an extra hour to get through customs in Nairobi as we came without Visas. Actually, the line for visas was shorter than the passport control line and once we had completed the paperwork and paid the $50 each, we were through. It took all of 5 minutes! (John says: I have to say there seems to be a lot of misinformation about most of the countries we have been to. How dangerous it would be in Australia, apparently they have more creatures that can kill you than anywhere else on the planet; how expensive Tokyo would be, how we could not possibly wear any valuable jewelry in Thailand for fear of it being ripped off our bodies. None of it has proved to be true. OK, you should use a little street smarts in any big city, that’s just common sense, but many people seem to be so scared of anyone who doesn’t speak their language! I cannot think of a single situation where I thought we were in any sort of danger.) Getting our luggage however did take some time; I think ours was the last on. Coming through the gate (after attacking the ATM to be able to pay the driver in Schillings) our driver was waiting with a sign. I think that when you travel a lot, especially to foreign places you have never been to before, to see someone with your name on a sign waiting at the gate is sort of comforting. (John says: I looked back at the airport as we drove away and I don’t think it has changed much since I left. It was strange to be back in Nairobi after all these years. I am wondering how much will have changed, not much if the airport is anything to go on.)

Off we went into Nairobi. Our driver, Peter, gave us a quick run down on what most tourists do – take safaris and not much else apparently. It didn’t take long for us to get to our hotel. It was a businessman’s hotel in the center of the business district. No frills, and certainly no friendly faces at the reception desk. We checked in for one night and were directed (just by pointing, no language used) to another area of reception where we had to pay. Okay, so we paid, now what? We just waited, and then a receipt appeared through the class of the cashier and we had to take that back to the original receptionist and she gave us a key. We asked about tours and she said she’d call someone. We asked about internet and she said she’d call someone. Hmmm, I’m sensing a pattern here.

She did in fact call someone for tours, but the internet thing – just never happened, which was okay because John found a wireless to jump on to. The tours guy scared us silly with safaris for thousands of dollars for just a few days. We said we’d think about it, and we did – not doing that then.

Our room was okay, Spartan, and had definitely seen better days. Again, only soap in the bathroom, but we did have a TV (only 2 channels – we didn’t watch it) and a fridge for us to keep our water cold. Much like most of Asia, it appears you can’t drink the water here either.

A look out of our window revealed a Nairobi I was not expecting. High rise glass towers everywhere. We truly were in the central business district. To the left of our hotel was a beautiful grassy area which we found out was a public park. In front and to the right were office buildings galore. The Kenyans work from 8-5, so by 7 am everyone is beginning to bustle and by 7:30 the streets are filled with office workers headed to work.

We had decided not to stay at the hotel another night, it was not cheap and did not have a comfortable feeling about it. Maybe it was the guards stationed on each floor and the two at the entrance checking to make sure you had a right to be in the hotel. We did have dinner and breakfast there, both were buffets, and the food was okay. Breakfast was included in our room price thank goodness. (John says: Since we had internet, I spent a couple of hours looking for tours or safari’s we could do. Lynne had said that she was not into seeing the animals, after all she seen them all in a zoo before! I tried to explain it’s a little different seeing them in the wild. Anyway, most of the sites seemed to assume that you were checking these out weeks before you wanted to go, not the night before. They all wanted me to send an e-mail and they would get back to me. I always view this sort of thing as a “We need to figure out how much we think we can charge you based on where you sent this from” I did find one that had some three and two days safari’s which looked good and lo and behold they had an office in the youth hostel. Brilliant!)

So we moved over to the International Youth Hostel of Nairobi. We checked it out on the web and the only comment was that it had no hot water, no toilet paper and no towels. All of which are true! It is clean, the staff is helpful, the double rooms were all gone, so we are in a room about the size of a public toilet with one set of bunk beds. This room is so tiny that we have to move the only chair in it to open the door. Still at $10 each a night, we can’t really complain. Nairobi is not cheap as far as hotels go either. One plus to the Hostel is that it has a tour company. Unfortunately, all tours have to be paid in cash, so our friendly tour guide, Albert, arranged for us to be driven to an ATM to pull out cash and travel in safety back to him to hand it over.

We booked to go to Bomas of Kenya which is in the Kenyan National Park just outside Nairobi’s center. Our journey to the Park took us past the largest slum in the world (our driver’s words, not ours). It houses 1.25 million, yes million, people. While we were there, there were two policemen shot in Mathare (one slum area) and the retaliation took 22 lives. They have problems with a group called Mungiki which, to this outsider, seems to operate much like the Mafia did in the old days, with payments being due in order to live or work anywhere. The slums themselves look like one enormous shanty town on the side of the hill. On the opposite side of the very same road is the Uhuru Monument which celebrates the raising of the Kenyan flag in independence in 1963 - ironic.

Our afternoon consisted of a 1½ hour performance of tribal singing and dancing (with a 10 minute intermission). It was wonderful. One song even made me cry although I hadn’t got a clue what they were singing about. The costumes were great and the dancers were very enthusiastic. Some of the instruments were amazing. One string can make a wonderfully haunting sound, and stones trapped in between reeds which have been woven onto twigs make great percussion instruments. (John says: Why me? Maybe I just look like I’m enjoying it, I don’t know, but I always seem to end up on stage at some point in the proceedings. In Chang Mai it was with two strippers, in Pattaya it was with the Thai dancers, here it was with a small shield and a screwdriver {yes, screwdriver} to do a tribal dance. Maybe I just expect it now and they see that…I don’t know…OK, don’t tell anyone, but I do enjoy it, it’s lots of fun!)

After the performance was over, we went to replicas of different tribal villages. There are 42 different tribes in Kenya, each with their own language and style. Most Kenyans speak English and that is what is taught in their schools, along with their mother tongue. So some Kenyans speak 3 languages – it makes us feel humble to think that we really only speak one and just expect everyone else to understand.

The villages were enlightening – there was definitely a theme, husband’s hut, 1^st wife’s hut, 2^nd wife’s hut, 3^rd wife’s hut, married son’s hut, unmarried son’s hut. Some villages actually had a hut for the grandmother and some even a boy’s hut. There was definitely an absence of girl’s huts in every village……I do have to point out though that the husband’s hut was usually the smallest. Each village was dramatically different. Not only in style, but also set up. Some had the cattle in the center with the “buildings” around the sides, some had them over to the side. One village had a ring of wives huts with the husband’s hut on the outer perimeter.

We also went through an area of artisans selling their wares. Very cool, but it was our first day in Kenya and we hadn’t really got a feel for what Kenya meant to us yet, so we were very restrained and bought nothing!

Then back to the hostel for dinner. Unfortunately, the special had run out and all that was left was the same thing we had for lunch – such is the life of a hosteller.

We have booked to go on safari in the Abedere National Park tomorrow.

We are back after four days of Safari (which has its own blog with pictures) and checked into the Hilton which is right down town and had some lunch. An afternoon of interneting (we had not yet booked anywhere to stay in Cape Town and Stellenbosch and we were leaving in two days) and then to bed.

As an aside, on the way back to Nairobi, I read the book I bought in Nakuru it is called ‘Unanswered Cries’ and is about female circumcision which is still practiced in some tribes in Africa. This particular book is actually used as a text book in girl’s middle schools. It amazes me that this still goes on. Things are changing though, and most Kenyans believe that their salvation is education and are very serious about making sure their children are educated at all costs so maybe this custom will just quietly pass into history much like the feet binding practices in China.

Next day was Saturday and there was a Maasai Market held in the parking lot behind the Hilton. We first ran off to a place called Lavage, which was a laundry service. For those of you travelers who need it, when you are in Nairobi, look up Lavage, they are all over town. They charge by the kilo (130 schillings per), which is much cheaper than any hotel and can get it back same day or early next day, even Sundays – which is what we needed. So we dropped off 4 kilos of laundry and then headed back to the market. (John says: Our hotel would have wanted 6,000 schillings for the same load, even with two taxi fares, ours was only 1,300!)

What happened next could actually take the whole blog up. Suffice it to say we were “accosted” at the gate by Isaac, Benson and Chali, who were to be our “helpers” over the next few hours. The way this market works is as a community. The Maasai are all given space for free and they all share the profits, so it really isn’t suppose to matter who you buy from at the end of the day. Of course, I’m not sure that’s exactly how it works, especially as we were ushered to specific vendors.

We took an hour or so just looking around, with the guys, prompting and comparing and suggesting. Eventually we went back around picking out everything we liked. We couldn’t seem to get prices for anything. The way this market operates is like a big shopping cart. You throw everything in and then you sit around the outside with a big piece of plastic laid out on the floor with all your items laid out like your own personal shop, and then you agree on a price. Volume discount. The first price Isaac offered was way too high, and it was tough for us to get item prices, he just kept saying to give him a price.

(John says: Isaac was much better educated than most of the other Kenyans we met. His English was far better in that he understood the nuances that many others didn’t. His job was to lead us around, gather all the stuff we liked or had an interest in and he would negotiate with us instead of the individual vendors. This gave him a much better bargaining position as he could seem to be giving us a volume discount. It also provided employment for Isaac, Benson the “Bag” man and Chali who basically kept me company. This was “Nordstrom Personal Shopper” Kenyan style and Lynne was in her element, three guys to run around and parade before her a never ending display of paintings, carvings, jewelry, clothes and a whole host of other things. I could also see that Isaac could see nothing but $$$ and was in for a big shock. Chali and I chatted as we followed Lynne with Isaac and Benson in close attendance with a stream of vendors all anxious to get in on the act. In fact, part of Chali’s job was to keep these at bay, explaining that all would get a share as long as we were not “Bothered” by a whole bunch of individuals trying to sell us “stuff”. Chali was a Laker fan complete with a Kobe Bryant shirt and also a Man. Utd. Fan. I am also a Laker fan so there was some common ground and I tried to educate him regarding Man. Utd. It turned out his real allegiance was to Barcelona. Not sure if that is worse, anyway he explained to all and sundry that “Mama” was the shopper and I just had the money.)

In the end, we actually bought about a third of the things (all gifts for others who may be reading this, so we can’t tell you what they were). We had explained that we had no more weight allowance in our luggage so we would have to mail this stuff today. No worries, the post office is open to 3pm. NOT. As we raced over to get this stuff mailed, we saw the sign – it closes noon on Saturdays. Now what?

Afraid that they might lose this sale I think, the guys said they could sort it. We headed over to a shop (well actually the space behind the shop) where they sold the things we bought at market I think, and found a box and stuffing, and sat there, at the back while one woman was sorting beans for the night’s dinner, and three men were carving, and filing metal and wood making the statues we had seen earlier. It was surreal. There we were in a back courtyard with total strangers, ready to leave a box containing things we had bought, plus some other items which we took from our suitcases, and just walk away. (John says: I am sure that this is where most of the stuff that we saw at the market is made or in shops very much like it spread all over Nairobi. I had to leave Lynne here while Chali and I went to get packing tape. Leaving Lynne alone anywhere is dangerous, I have come back to find us committed to all sorts of things! Thankfully there were no children to adopt or girls to put through school!) Well, we did. Who knows when the box will arrive? Or even if, but our travels have taught us that at some point you just have to have faith.

Once this transaction was finished, Isaac, Chali and Benson escorted us back to our hotel (we had no idea where we were at this point) and left us. We regrouped, picked up our camera and headed back over to the market. We found the guys again and they lead us around so I could take pictures. I really wanted pictures of the Maasai women, but they don’t like their pictures taken. I thought it was because they believed I was stealing their souls (which is what our driver Alex kept telling me as I was taking secret pictures on our drives) but no, it’s actually because unscrupulous photographers are taking pictures and selling them for gobs of cash and these women are getting nothing. So they just won’t let you unless you pay them. It began to rain a little, so that was the end of taking pictures, and the guys said we had to give them beer money. Rather than that, we said, we will buy you a beer!

Okay then. We buy two and then they buy one, that is the custom they said. (John says: I got to adopt that custom!) So off we went again with three Kenyans, all different tribes (Kamba, Luhya and Kikuyu – although all 42 tribes fall into three groups Bantu, Nilotes and Cushites and these were Bantu tribes) and headed to the Embassy Pub – a local watering hole – for several beers for the guys and wine for me. The heavens opened and it poured with rain. There was even thunder and lightening, it was quite stormy. I had purchased a mankala game (they call it “bough” here) and Chali was teaching me how to play their way. I won one game and lost two! At some point after intense discussions about tribes and life in Kenya and such, and several brews later the guys announced “Now we dance” and off we went to a club for dancing! Eventually we made it back to the hotel (amazingly enough still with our camera and the mankala game) and even managed to have dinner which was a feat in and of itself as it was about 10:30 pm at this point and we had been out all afternoon drinking.

(John says: We had done everything that “People” said we shouldn’t. We put ourselves in the hands of three local Kenyans who took us shopping. Having spent several hundred dollars, we then put it all in a box, along with a few hundred dollars of other stuff which we wanted to ship home and handed it back to the very people who sold it to us. All in the belief that the box will be shipped tomorrow. We then went out with them, definitely to areas we would never have ventured to on our own, got pretty drunk and yet managed to find ourselves back in our hotel when we woke up with our camera and all our money. There are definitely people who will take advantage of you, but for the most part, in every country we have been in, we have found that people are just people like us. Treat them fairly, with a smile, and that’s just how they will treat you. I’m sure we’ll see our box again.)

Next morning we called Isaac and Benson to thank them for the great evening, we had had a small look into the local culture and it was fabulous. Isaac wondered how we had his number – he had apparently forgotten that he had written it in our book! We were not the only ones who had a lot to drink. We had arranged with one of Benson’s friends, Bobby to drive us to the airport and Isaac came over to visit us and wait until Bobby came. We talked more about life here and then said our goodbyes. Bobby and his wife drove us to Kenyatta Airport and talked to us about their lives as parents. They have two children and are guardians to a third. Bobby’s sister died of Aids and they are taking care of her daughter. She is 10 and HIV positive….they haven’t told her yet.

Kenya is in transition I think. They are definitely moving forward, but there are so many things to do. (John says: During one of the conversations with Isaac, he mentioned that he thought that tribalism was one of the biggest problems in Africa. I though that that was very astute. The colonial powers that were had carved up Africa along natural borders completely ignorant of tribal borders. This has led to many of the problems. The fact that his generation sees is a positive step forward.) To me, it’s like watching a taffy machine turning – some pieces get turned more than others, and you’re not quite sure when it’s going to be done. I would like to come back here, not as a tourist, but as a volunteer and help with the change – maybe one day. (John says: They say that once you visit Africa it gets into your blood. I know that I have always wanted to come back since my first visit, looks like Lynne is infected to.)