Kwa heri, readers. Farewell.

This is my final blog.   If there is one word to sum up my Kenyan encounter, it is "engrossing."    If there is one compelling memory, it is the warm smiles of Kenyans everywhere and always, young and old.  If  there is one significant gesture, it is that Kenyans invariably greet one another with a handshake, a sign of peace.

 

Our stopover in Amsterdam for 3 days before returning home is a deliberate decompression.  It will take that time and more to digest two months of rich experience.

 

 

Before our final time in Nairobi, Michael and I spent three days in Lamu, two of only a handful of tourists because of its proximity to Somalia.    This small coastal town is a visual treat, on a par with Santorini in Greece.   The owner of our hotel, Baytil Ajaib, has become an expert on Swahili architecture and sculpture because of his personal involvement in the restoration of his place.  

Paul gave us an in-depth architectural and cultural tour of the town and of nearby Shela.   Unfortunately, I arrived in Lamu just recovering from a bad tummy, and Michael spent a day sick with one when we were there.  But we spent our final day on the magnificent beach at Shela, truly one of the most spendid beaches  I have ever seen.  I named it the "miracle beach."  I understand perfectly now why people return to exotic Lamu and in particular to Shela time and again.  It would be bliss to walk that beach every morning and late afternoon, and bathe in the warm (28 to 30 degree C.) Indian Ocean. 

As my Kenyan friend Dorothy was in Nairobi while we were there from November 9th to 11th, she became our guide around town.  On Thursday, the 10th,we rode public transit downtown, and she showed me the major landmarks while Michael was at the computer store. 

After lunch in a very popular local restaurant where we were the only mzungos (which means it is not on the tourist radar), we caught another bus to ride out to the suburbs to see a cultural show with traditional Kenyan song and dancing.  After a matatu ride back to the downtown in Nairobi's crazy rush hour traffic, Dorothy and I connected with "Job" whom we had met earlier in the day at an upscale tourist shop at the Hilton to look for fabric from the Congo.  I have become enamoured with this earthy woven cloth.  We ended up walking to a part of town that made me more than a little nervous when I was asked to walk up a very dark staircase at a small hotel.  (Think Hastings Street in Vancouver except Nairobi is not my town.)

Swallowing hard and after Dorothy's reconnoiter, I walked up that stairwell and found myself looking at fabric and other items from West Africa.  When the first connection didn't have what I wanted, we went to a second place.  After some tough negotiations while dusk fell and I as a mzungo tourist had to get off the streets,  I did buy a piece for a third of what I had paid in Lamu, not quite as good quality but definitely a good colour match.  When I asked Job if the vendorsI had met were refugees, he said they were traders.  So there you are, folks.  Another adventure.  I found the wholesalers for the Congo trade who were willing to show me many masks, furniture, and much more if I'd had the time and money.

Yesterday on the 11th, Michael visited the National Museum while I shopped at the stores on site.  We then travelled across town where we  visited a large emporirum of mostly Kenyan products and attempted to do some gift shopping at one of the famous Masai markets held weekly in the city.  It is an amazing experience of high pressure sales and tough bargaining. I was impressed, though, to finally see handicrafts and products produced locally.   Last night, our final evening in Kenya, Dorothy, her daughter Joanne, and Susan, the teacher I met my first day in Nairobi, all came to our hotel for a final visit.  I have so enjoyed the opportunity to become friends with women of about my age, to share our life stories, perspectives and "sisterhood."  I look forward to keeping in contact with them. 

So...I have experienced the tourist side of Kenya as well as "real life" Kenya, particularly in Kakamega.  I have come to know the challenges of Kenyan life and to  experience the joys.  One of those joys is the marvellous people I have met.  Working with the ACCES staff and teachers, and talking to them about education, life, politics, culture, gender and so much more of the "stuff of life" was amazing.  I have had an insight into the young professional class in Kenya, and have seen how talented, bright and capable they are.  Having now been a bit player in the development of the new leadership group in education if not in the country, I am optimistic about the future of Kenya, and gratified that I was able to provide some support and encouragement.   I am proud to be a part of ACCES which for 18 years now has been providing genuine opportunity and training for Kenyans. 

Michael and I also met other professionals in the community, shop keepers, tradespeople, many children, a few university students, our Unitarian family, the drivers on our safaris, the staff at the hotels.  Kenyans are a smart, generous and positive people in spite of the adversities of life.  They are warm and gregarious.  I admire and respect them, and feel validated as a human being to have been so well received by them.  

Another joy was to travel and experience the physical beauties of Kenya.   I have seen lush farmlands, vast grasslands, stunning beaches, dense forests, mountains, valleys and rivers.  I have seen with my own eyes some of the world's most magificent animals and colourful birds.  (Michael was particularly taken with the birdlife.)

I have heard some music and seen some dancing.  When the drums beat, it is the sound of the heart beats of Kenyans. 

I return home enriched, I hope wiser, appreciative, more knowledgeble - and very grateful for this chance to help build bridges of connection, understanding and love from one part of the world to another.

Habari za safari? Njema!

Although “safari ” in Kiswahili means “journey,” it  has popularly  become the term for going on game drives to view Africa’s wildlife.  After 7 days in two national parks, I am pleased to report that our safari was indeed “njema” or “fine.”   In fact, it was superb.

(Let me take a brief moment to say that I am unable to provide photos at this time of writing.  Our laptop is malfunctioning, and I am unable for whatever reason to retrieve my photos on this borrowed computer.  Alas, another computer and internet challenge!  So...please imagine plains of zebras and graceful gazelles as you read on.)

Our first 4 nights and 3 full days were spent in the Masai Mara, reputedly and deservedly Kenya’s premier safari destination.    With a combination of 5 fellow travelers who were also totally into the experience, an attentive and knowledgeable driver, Paul, and vast, beautiful  grasslands dotted with acacias, we were thrilled to see “the big five”  - elephant, water buffalo, rhinoceros, leopard and lion -  within the first day and a half.   What would Africa be without lions?  I cannot find the words to describe the awe I felt to gaze into the eyes of a lioness at close quarters, and to see a male lion just a few feet away from us.   On our final full day, we drove the Mara Triangle, following the Mara River down to the Tanzanian border and stepping across for just a few minutes into the Serengeti and to take a look at the last of the migrating wildebeest.
But it was watching the glory of an African sunrise from our tent at the top of the Oloololo Escarpment at the west side of the park, of experiencing the silence of the plains broken only by an occasional bird song or grunting of a hippopotamus, of witnessing the harmony and balance of nature in this incredible ecosystem that was the magic of the Mara for me.  I was full of tears the last morning; my soul was touched in a way I long for and find elusive.

Two days later we were in Meru National Park northwest of Mount Kenya.  The park was green and verdant with the coming of the short rains.  As our small bush plane landed at the airstrip, we were greeted by elegant reticulated giraffes that gracefully and shyly ran away from us.  While the Mara is open and wide, Meru is contained and dense.  There are many rivers, intense jungle-like areas with splendid, enormous raffia palms, and ever present sentinels in the Nyambani Hills on the western side.   In Meru we saw what few see:  the Greater Kudu, an antelope with magnificent curved antlers, and many white rhinoceros at close quarters.  But what brought me to tears in Meru was our shining young driver, Benson.  Extraordinarily bright and earnest, Benson is another of the remarkable Kenyans we have met on our trip.  Raised by a single mother, he was able to be educated for 10 years in Nairobi with the assistance of an American sponsor.  He has a diploma but dreams of achieving a degree and becoming a conservationist, like the Nobel Laureate Wangari Maathai.   I hope with all my heart that he is able to make his dreams come true.

Some of this will depend on the fate of tourism in Kenya.  It is decidedly down with the war between Kenya and Somalia, and possibly concerns about the election coming up in 2012.  Many people have earned decent wages through the provision of excellent tourist facilities, and through the Kenya Wildlife Service. 

Although there is much more I could say,  I have only limited time available on this computer.   I hope that when we are back in Nairobi on Nov. 9 to 11 that I will have the opportunity for a final report to you from Kenya.  It’s hard to believe that next week at this time we will be back “home.”

How do you find life in Kenya? she asked. Hard, I replied.

Last week riding back in a matatu from Tumaini school, I sat beside Eddah, a third year Business student at the university in Kakamega.  We struck up a conversation that became real with my candour.  

 

At the time we talked about the  the challenges of making a living, of everyday life, of transportation.  For example, one of the security guys at the ACCES site, supports a wife and 2 or 3 children on what  is a good job for Kenya, but he values any extra food and any empty bottles to return for the deposit money.  Other people subsist on casual farm labour or selling vegetables or the crop from a small plot of land. This might make enough to feed a family for a day – porridge, ugali and greens and maybe tea.  Eddah counted herself as one of the fortunate as one of her parents was a teacher and the other, a policewoman.  

Everyday life.  For me it meant adjusting to daily power failures and washing laundry by hand.  In the rural countryside, some women still spend a good part of her day gathering firewood for cooking.   Clothes dry on shrubs.  Women and children walk down to the local stream for water.  For Eddah, the new young educated generation,  it means wondering if she will get a job or join the large ranks of the unemployed when she has her degree.

Transportation is a huge issue.   The inadequate transportation system limits the distribution of goods and limits mobility.  The “highway” in and out of Kakamega is basically a tarmac road with no dividing line.  The majority of side roads are dirt, most of which became muddy and slow slogging when it rains (frequently).   Our 18 km. trip to Rondo Retreat two weeks ago took 1.5 hours in the rain.  Eddah muses if Kenyans should be more assertive.

It took our trip from Kakamega to the Masai Mara on October 29th to show me that the transportation system is not just inconvenient but bloody dangerous.  Dumb luck and a cell phone literally “saved our bacon.”

Wanting to see the countyside, we’d been planning this road trip for months and checked on the feasibility with various travel agents and parties.  I decided to provide a Kakamega taxi driver with the income from this trip.  Our roommate introduced me to Hussein with his small red Toyota who became our reliable driver for our weekend trips preceding the long drive to the Mara.   The point I want to make is that there was no apparent problem with the Mara trip.

Hussein checked with his taxi driver friends and figured it be a 4 to 5 hour drive.  So he could return to Kakamega within the day, he proposed we leave at 7 am.  We informed the Mara Siria Tented Camp to expect us for lunch on the 29th.  

By noon  on October 29th we arrived in Kilgoris, some 50 km from the Mara, on a quite beautiful paved road with two lanes.  I assumed this road existed because the Mara is a prime tourist destination.  Then the tarmac road simply -- stopped.  Hussein’s friend in Kilgoris provided him with instructions and a sketch map.  We left the town about noon, heading south on a dirt road.

After about 10 km. and about 45 minutes on a horrible rutted road, I thought we should phone the camp to tell them we wouldn’t make lunch.  The camp manager told us we were on the wrong road, to back up and take another road.  This cost us 1.5 hours.  Then we began on another dirt road.  Somewhat better, I was enjoying the geographical change from green rolling hills to flat grazing lands, the land of the fabled Masai, when the road started to get markedly worse and it began to rain.  It was now about 2:30.  Mud and treacherous pot holes.  We took the wrong fork in the road and got stuck.  Two men on a motorbike helped Michael push the car out of a trough.  They gave us further directions.  

The other fork in the road soon proved to be horrible, too. Thank heavens that Hussein was steadfast and skillful in the handling of his car.  Soon Michael was forced to get out of the car in the rain to run ahead and check out road conditions.   In the small Toyota, we were forced to leave the road to drive on an off road track to by pass impassable road sections.  Twice.

Although we tried to keep in touch with the camp manager, we kept losing the signal and couldn’t complete calls.   While Michael was out on another reconnaissance, Hussein decided to bypass a huge trough by driving along the steep left side of the road.   It was a terrifying few minutes for us both; I fully expected that the car would roll and I would end my days in a ditch in SW Kenya.

Around 4 pm, now some 10 km. from destination, we had to stop, once and for all.  In yet another set of calls to the camp, we asked for a rescue.  Around 4:30,  Joel told us that a 4 wheel drive camp vehicle would be coming.  Michael and I were worried about Hussein.  Could he and should he return to Kilgoris on that terrible road in the rain?  It gets dark by 6:30.  We wanted him to leave us by the side of the road and get going immediately; he was worried about leaving us in a strange place.  Finally, at around 5 pm, the camp vehicle arrived for us, and Hussein, with a bottle of water, the couple of biscuits and bananas we had left set off back on that awful road.  

It took us a further 30 minutes to drive to Mara Siria Tented Camp.  Even in a 4 wheel vehicle driving off road, we skidded and slid.  We arrived to a beautiful room, hot shower and lovely dinner.  Worried about Hussein, we tried to phone but once again were plagued with the inability to connect.  We got through to him around 9:30pm.  He had made it to Kilgoris and was staying with his friend.

10.5 hours to drive about 250 km.  An ordeal for us and for Hussein.  We don’t have to drive the Kenyan road system again.  Hussein does.  

One of 10 children raised in a mud hut in Siaya north of Kisumu, Hussein has self taught himself to speak English, read and write.  Married with a 6 month old daughter, he runs a 2 vehicle taxi service.  He is hard working, thoughtful and resilient.  He and Eddah are but two of the remarkable next generation of Kenyans we have met so far on this remarkable journey. 

(Yes, we are carefully monitoring the situations in Somalia and Nairobi.)