Form is temporary, class is permanent

Ok, apologies about the "subscription" issues. Also, my grammar is pathetic. I get very passionate recounting these stories and my mind goes faster than my fingers so I make stupid errors like "there" and "their" "us" and "as". Forgive me, I'll have my sis edit it at some point because she has DSL and I have 2K dial-up.

Liverpool, not a fan but you got game.

So this Wednesday presented the fitting end to an amazing football season and somewhat made up for the FA miss. (Even though we all know Manchester United are the greatest football team on earth and it doesn't matter if Crazy Glazer is on board). I had to work late yet again so joined B2 for a drink after work and catching up with the day. Urghh, those that know me will not believe what a market geek I've become. I mean we talked about the market for 2! hours and every turn of the corner I had another question about expanding my portfolio zzzzzzzz. Anyway, was fun, we debated staying in town to watch the game but we opted to head to the watering hole near our apartment.

Got home, slightly hiccupy at 10 pm which is when the game was and much to our delight, it was on pretty much on all the channels. (I can hear my poor one-soccer-channel stricken sister screaming.) So we tucked in to enjoy the best battle it out. Let me just say, at half time, I'd talked to B1 who was all the way on the other side of town on the verge of a heart attack. Liverpool were down a spectacular 3 - 0 in a game that looked all Italia and he being the Liverpooladdict that he is was practically sobbing with despair. I promised him a beer the next time we meet, he insisted on a massive dose to counter the tragedy he was witnessing. B2 had just bought a new phone that day so that became the focus of all his attention while I watched the game thinking of what I would watch after the season ended. And then 1, 2, 3, the goals came at such an alarming rate and there was a game. I went out onto my balcony and you could hear the whole neighborhood screaming. Lol, any football fan can come to Kenya and feel right at home because Kenyans love, and I mean LOVE this game. Forget runners, yes we appreciate, respect and follow them but ask a Kenyan to name the statistics of our local heroes and they'll fail. Ask them where Henri is from and they will spout off not only his birthplace, but they will accurately name the street he lived on, describe his first training session and go into details about his style of game etc.

So I would pop out occasionally and listen to the craziness that was going on in the neighborhood at midnight now. Glory, awesome game, went into penalties. I stood on my balcony, door open so I could get the reaction on the outside as well. It was pandemonium when Dudek saved that last ball. I mean screams, yells, shouts, craziness. Oh, damn but I do love that game.

Ok, server died, saving this on disk, will publish later. Sigh. Well it is Friday and I AM determined to find a karaoke joint somewhere. I'm craving flat beer, bad music and...lol, was going to say Nachos but have yet to find those. Wish me luck, I will be screeching somewhere in Nairobi tonight.

Bendy Stick Man for Prez!

Yum Day

So sorry!

I changed the settings, anyone can comment now. I'm getting a chatterbox as well on the side. Progress! Sorry once again.

Kenyatta National Hospital Crisis

Hey guys, really sad story but true. All about money and how people are just not getting paid. The national hospital, Kenyatta warned of a pending strike about two weeks ago and were not taken seriously and as a result, ordinary citizens are the ones to suffer because once again, the oh so competent government is either dragging its heels or not listening to the people. Trend here? Anyone?

http://www.eastandard.net/hm_news/news.php?articleid=21256

Of Tweed Coats and Toilet Paper Part 2

So after the ceremony, we all went out into the garden, still a very pleasant afternoon. We sat around and chatted about the ceremony, I asked people about other ceremonies they’d heard about or experienced. There was one family insisted on half a million shillings ($6,600) for their daughter and the man had to pay it. These are of course the more wealthy to do families where such requests are not unheard of.

Anyway, as the afternoon progressed, B2 and I were checking our watches, anxious to hit the road so that we could get to the pub in town where we’d planned on meeting some friends and watching the game. (The game being the FA cup final between Arsenal and Manchester United.) We didn’t bother to hide that fact with B1 and Bf and Bw was ready to leave as well. But B1 was hesitant about offending the new fiancée by suggesting he leave early to go watch a game. Be warned future Mr. Crazy Kenyan, whoever you are, our life will revolve around a sports schedule including weddings, births of children, graduation etc. She is a Chelsea fan…go figure. She already had two pieces of silver on her cabinet while we were scrapping for one. Anyway, when the topic came up about an hour later, 20 minutes before kick-off, she was indeed quite offended. She came out roaring, "Will you die if you miss this game?" B2, Bw and myself were screaming "yeah" in our minds but we kept quiet. So we sat outside, enjoyed some beverages, promising ourselves we’d get the second half. By now it was almost six in the evening and the festivities showed no signs of letting up. Most of the representatives from our side had already left because where they had to go, the roads became impassable once the rains came. It is the rainy season right now in Kenya and since a lot of the roads in rural areas are dirt tracks, they become rivers of mud even after a few minutes.

We were now looking heavenwards, pleading I think for a few drops to fall in order to hasten our departure. Meanwhile, our friends from various watering holes around the country kept calling, "Are you watching this game? It’s awesome, wow, did you see that?" and then hanging up. Grrr. At about 6.30 we concluded that we were probably going to miss the game but since it was bound to be a nail-biter, it might go into penalties so we’d catch that action instead. (How prophetic). Finally, the sky opened up and we took that us our cue and loaded up into two vehicles: both Bs in a pick up truck and myself and Bf and Bw in a Mercedes. We waved goodbye and proceeded down the driveway. That inside 25-degree angle corner to the main road was suddenly a challenge. The merc sits very low so there was a lot of scraping of the bottom. It was quite dark now and the rain was pouring much harder. The pick-up having better traction and what we discovered less fogging of mirrors took off at an impossible pace and pretty soon we found ourselves slipping and sliding in the mud. Thank God for cell phones. All of us had them so we took turns calling the Bs and telling them to slow down. We got to one point where we got thoroughly stuck and called them to come back, but they’d just taken a particularly bad corner and there was no way they could make it back because it would have been an up-hill battle.
So we managed to slide out and came to the corner in question and found B2 standing in the rain in his suit and soon to be infamous tweed coat, waving us over to a better section to navigate. We told them they had to slow down because we needed their backlight to figure out which way to go. So begun a slow arduous journey back to the main road…. not even the city. We just wanted to kiss tarmac.

Well, it wasn’t going to be for a while. The road was horrible. It was so bad, I would actually prefer to drive on ice. Ok, maybe not true. (Christmas 2004…wow) We tried our best to keep up with the pick up but their traction was way better and we just kept sliding all over the place and getting stuck. After about half an hour, we realised we’d only gone less than a mile and it looked like other vehicles, few and far between were having their own problems. Whenever we got stuck and a vehicle was coming up behind or ahead of us, they had to gun their engines and speed through where we were bogged down and by the time they were through, the road was in worse shape so they couldn’t backtrack to help. We tried calling the people who we knew were still at the party but the signal was so spotty and couldn’t quite get through. The bitter pill was that our friends back in Nairobi, safely and warmly ensconced around big screens could call us screaming out exciting plays of the game which had now gone into extra time. Figures I would miss the most exciting game of the season.

Oh yeah, don’t drink beer if you suspect you will be caught in a torrential downpour and driving through mud. We all had to pee, frequently which was no problem for the boys, bushes and darkness are a plenty. For Bw, and myself not such an easy issue to address. For one, you really don’t want to go into any Kenyan bushes to pee, not because of creatures but because of the plants. There’s a stinging plant called Kimelit that can cause a burning itchy sensation whenever your skin comes into contact with its broad leaves. It’s quite indigenous in that part of the country so we had no choice but to pee whenever we got stuck (all the time) and right in front of the car because itchy stinging butts (good band name?) were not on our agenda. I was worried because of approaching cars and for some reason, people decided to ride their bicycles at night with no flashlights so you never had a warning. So all of a sudden, you’d attend to nature’s call, in front of the headlights of the lead car or at the back of the stuck car and a whistling cyclist would squeak by, almost crashing when they realised there was someone attending to some urgent business. Lol. Bw told me to stop fussing; it wasn’t like I’d see these folks again. What I couldn’t understand was the fact that it was raining heavily…I’m talking about Singing in the Rain Hollywood rain where you get drenched in a matter of minutes. Yet it seemed the ideal time to take the bike out for a ride.

Bf, quite the pessimist, who was already calculating sleeping arrangements in a pick-up and merecedes for the night in the middle of nowhere, kept sliding forward then said something that made our hearts lurch. "We have a flat." We couldn’t believe it. It was raining buckets and on top of getting stuck, we had a flat tire. So I called the pick up and told them to stop, about 200 metres ahead. They did and we all got out and they started to change the flat. More pee breaks. They were actually quite good, taking care of it in less than five minutes and we were soon on our way…for 100 metres and then got hopelessly and irretrievably stuck. B2 came over and I got out of the merc and went toward the other vehicle, with the honest intention of looking for a rope. I started to look in the back when I realised the game was on the radio and oh my, it was a penalty shootout. I looked back discreetly at the other car and realised no one was watching me so I hopped in and turned the radio up, my ears glued to the commentary in Swahili. Lol, "Cole anachukuwa mpira, amaweka chini, ana rudi nyuma, ana rudi nyuma, anaenda mbele, ana piga…. Goal!!" (Cole takes the ball, he puts it down, he steps back, moves back, runs forward, he shoots….Goal!) I punched the steering wheel angrily, tooted the horn accidentally and my companions realised I was playing hooky and yelled at me to find some damn rope. So I pretended to look for rope by climbing out and looking behind the seat, my skirt now saturated. I kept my ears glued to the game, rooting around for nothing and my heart dropped when I realised we were a goal down. I glanced over and saw B1 coming through the rain. I hastened my search and yelled out, "I’m still looking for…Goal! Yes! I mean, rope, is there any?"

B1 jumped in the car and realised what I was doing and started to berate me but then Arsenal prepared to take the fourth shot. He too looked around and shut the door and said, "It’s almost over, let’s just listen." I saw the other car hopelessly spinning its wheels but the bad crazy Kenyan that I was, was determined to listen to at least the last few minutes of the game I should have been watching comfortably from the confines or a watering hole. Anyway, the loser team won, we lost but as Pele said, "You can play the better game but only the champions create the winning shots." Or something like that. I got out of the car and yelled, "We lost!" to no one in particular and Bf screeches back, "Who gives a flying f$#! We’re sleeping here!" B2 scrambled over again to the lead car, "Do you have toilet paper? I need tissue paper, toilet paper." I kept asking for what and he ran back to the other car, "Tissue paper, do you have any?" At this point the sheer absurdity of the whole trip and his request made us quite hysterical with laughter. "What do you need it for?" He then kept asking for his Tweed jacket, which he must have taken off and didn’t know where he’d put it so asking for both at the same time had us in stitches. We asked and after five minutes of this garble he said, "My glasses, I can’t see." Really quite sad because he honestly couldn’t see but when he kept asking for it we thought he had a call of nature emergency, not a spectacle issue. I was in the truck with B1 and he kept murmuring, "I’m going to have to hit it, I have to." "Hit what?" I asked but he kept saying it over again without clarifying.

B2 ran back again, "Newspapers! Lots of them. We get newspapers and twigs and we put them under the tires, they’ll get traction." We both looked at him like he’d lost his mind and he kept repeating his requests and we said, "Take them, take the tennis racket in the back as well if you think that will help." At this point I began to think maybe the boys had lost it because one was murmuring about hitting a car and the other one intended to go pull twigs off wet trees and find newspaper to put under the tires of car that was practically submerged in a red river of mud. B1 then called Bf and said, "I’m coming in from behind, be ready!" Yes, any other day, I would have laughed at that comment but I realised he truly was going to hit his own car from behind. (Btw, we’d only gone less than 5 miles and still had about 10 to go on this road before we hit the main highway.)

So I jump into the pick-up, having traded places with B2 and strapped myself in. We did a 20 point turn (not kidding, stop laughing) and drove back slowly over the same treacherous spot that had claimed the mercedes. We came in from behind, hard and rammed into the back and….nothing. The wheels on both cars spun, kicking up mud so it felt like it was raining from above and below. Our car started to slide, sideways so our bumper took on a 45-degree angle, engine still revving, tires spinning and the merc going nowhere. B1 kept ramming into the back, we’re all yelling incoherently at both cars to move and finally, it did, pulling out of the suction that had trapped it and slipping and sliding yet forward. Except the pick up was now stuck. Lol, there was no way we were going to get help from the other car so B1 gunned it and mercifully, it got out of the grooves that had claimed it and we powered on, toward the bushes as we were facing the side of the road. Stop laughing. He quickly turned around and we got out of it and went ahead of the other car as their windows were completely fogged up now and needed our rear lights.

We kept looking for signs of light but we couldn’t see any. There’s no electricity to many of the rural areas, again another political thing (the government has failed to address that, incompetency being their motto) So no street lights, signs or indications as to where we were. I remember reading the signs of different shops on the way earlier that afternoon so I was looking for the first Relax Hotel. (there were two within a mile and hotel is a loose term for a two room tin shack.) I need to do an entry about the various names Kenyans have been creative with in naming their enterprises. Really inventive, like the Internet Butchery, or the Battery Chaching shop (The locals, particularly Kalenjins will get that last one.) Anyway, I finally spotted the first Relax Hotel and yelled out to B1 that we were not far from a tiny shopping centre that was home to the other Relax Hotel and within a few miles of the main road. Sure enough, we pass the centre and were all greatly cheered. The poor folks in the merc were freezing however because the car had began to die a slow electrical death. Too much water must have seeped in at some point so the radio died first, then the lights started to dim so they had to switch off everything that wasn’t in use in order for the lights to function and the car to keep running. Up ahead in the pick-up, I’d began to curse my future in-law because we’d missed the game, were thoroughly drenched, had a bum vehicle and had not seen the main road yet. On top of that a school bus, was approaching from the other side of the hill we were starting to descend, right down the middle and he was not, going to give way. The driver stopped right dead centre, his light glaring at us and refused to budge. The problem was the water running down hill had formed deep gullies on either side of the road so there was no way both vehicles could pass. The idiot however gave us little room to pass and insisted since we were the smaller vehicle, we had to go first. So we did, very gently and carefully, all the while cursing at him. The merc mercifully made it as well but only after the battery had died and had to be charged.

About 10 minutes later, I looked over to my left and saw lights wheezing by. "The road! I see the road!" B1 tried to call the car behind us but his battery was in the process of a slow painful death. Both Bf and Bw had run out of credit on their phone and B2’s phone was already dead. I had Kshs. 80 on my phone ($1.10) and each call costs 10 shillings per minute. Lol, do the math; so I had to be conservative because I didn’t know whether we would have another emergency. We still couldn’t call anyone at the party and I’d sent text messages earlier saying, "STUCK BADLY, NEED HELP!" of which no one replied to. Oh well, we made it out and we sped toward the city. The back car shivering miserably, the lead car worried now about fuel. I didn’t realise the merc had a problem with fuel as well because ¾ of the way there, they overtook us and pulled us over into what looked like a gas station…no lights anywhere so you really can’t tell. Pumping is done by hand. Bf, resident pessimist, said he wasn’t sure if there was enough gas but we decided to just keep driving, if it died, we’d still be closer to the city and a few minutes ride in the back of a now smelly pick-up would be fine.

Glory, glory, 2 ½ hours later from start to finish, town lights came into view and I could even hear the audible sigh of relief in the back. We stopped at a gas station that was open 24/7 and filled up both cars and dropped the flat to be fixed. We drove on to our hotel which I called a hovel the day before but represented paradise and all things warm and comfortable to me now. Our bedraggled crew came into the main area and the receptionist burst into laughter. We looked at ourselves and had to smile. Bw had lost broken the straps on her shoes in the first push-the-car effort, Bf was complaining of wet underwear because of the amount of water that went in while he changed the flat, B1 was soaking wet and muddy all over, B2 was complaining about his tweed jacket and the fact he’d only brought one pair of shoes for the whole trip. (My luggage was extra heavy because of my boots but I was the only one there with dry footsies. Ha!) My calls to nature in the middle of the road had left my wonderful khaki skirt with red mud all over the place and my shirt, also spotty was quite red. My wonderful boots were caked with mud from heel to calf. We all took off to our rooms, had incredibly uplifting hot showers and ran to the hotel bar for much needed "Hunder’s Whiskey." (Hunter’s Whiskey…again, a Kalenjin thing)

At this point, we recounted the evening with much laughter, so much so there was a lot of back-slapping, tears running and frequent choking. We tried to text the people we’d left behind to tell them not to come but they’d now received my frantic calls for help so had decided to leave and just come back to town as most were staying in the area. They too got stuck occasionally, though not as bad as we did but showed up much later. The following morning we woke up still chuckling and met up at the vehicles which had now been wiped down. The dents at the back of the merc were quite impressive and the truck had survived fairly well. B2, who’d insisted I was carrying too many shoes was now left with only a pair of sandals as his only pair of shoes were completely soaked. So off he trudged into town, on Sunday to go find a pair of shoes. He came back a few minutes later with a remarkably hideous pair, which he found for only 200 shillings at one of the four Indian shops that were still open. Shy at first, our model warmed to our laughter and soon began to pose for the camera phones saying, "No paparazzi!" Lol, he did look good.

Still laughing when I think about it now but my story is just typical of what happens during the rainy season. Not so funny though when you’re in the middle of nowhere by yourself.
The drive back to Nairobi was uneventful, I got to see my animals again! We drove straight to our F1 pub to watch the Monaco grand prix. If the race wasn’t as exciting as it turned out to be, we would have pooled under the tables and gone right to sleep. We were absolutely exhausted and fatigued but too much life had already interfered with sports and damn it, I was going to enjoy the race, even though I had to prop my eyes open with my fingers.

Of Tweed Coats and Toilet Paper Part 1

So the whole purpose of traveling to Eldoret was for B1's engagement to his girlfriend. The tradition in most tribes in Kenya is that when a couple intend to get married eventually, they first get betrothed but through an arrangement between the families first. The idea behind it is that if the bride has a problem with the groom and vice versa, they'll have the support of their in-laws and could go to them for help. B1 and bride are both from the same tribe (different dialect) but the customs and traditions were similar. The groom traditionally comes with members of his family and a negotiator to meet with representatives of her family and their negotiator and her relatives. The tradition dictates members of the family sit down to discuss the dowry and they haggle back and forth, (not unlike bargaining over meat but the significance being a daughter is being taken away from the home, what is she worth you taking her away.)
So Saturday found as smartly dressed, my original crew was now joined by and aunt and uncle and cousin from the city. We were to meet up with my father and he was coming with a convoy from our traditional home with relatives and close family friends who'd known the "boy" (B1) since he was a kid and they could vouch for him.

As is with my tribe, they were late, very late. We were supposed to meet up at 11 and at 12.30 whatever breakfast I had, had long disappeared and my tummy was rumbling. Finally we left and upon asking, I was told she lived about 15 miles away from the town. LIES! Never ask a Kalenjin how far something is because they'll always say, "Ni hapa hapa tu!" It's just here.... here being relative. Mind you, we're runners so "just here" is usually an underestimation of about 10 miles. So naturally 30 miles later we found ourselves at the turnoff to her home. The ceremony was being performed at her older brother's place as her parents are quite old and so he was elected the representative. Had it been done at her place, we would have been there and back in less than two hours for her mother (a third wife) lived closer to the city.

So we get off the tarmac road and instantly on a dirt track. And this is the red soil kinda track. It hadn't rained in a while so I sat there in the back seat choking on dust from the three cars ahead of us and filling sorry for the eight cars behind us. Once again, I was told that the house from the main road was just a few kilometers. LIARS! It was another half-hour of winding dirt track, through gorgeous land I must add. I was so giggly when I saw a lamb running toward its mother to immediately drop to its knees and start suckling without saying hello. Lol, was so cute and I kept saying "Moo Cows!" ( a Woo thing) and once again, I was the butt of a lot of jokes in my car. Anyway, we choke on for a while and finally the lead car stopped dead in the middle of the road. Then he started to make what I thought was a U-turn but oh no, he was turning left up an impossible angle to a grass driveway completely camouflaged by tall hedges that came out of nowhere. Imagine you’re making a turn inside a 25-degree angle.

We pull in, wait for all the vehicles to park. I got to see many relatives whom I hadn’t seen in a long while and they were equally as happy. I then started to walk through the gate but my step-ma stopped me and told me that we had to be called by her family. So we chatted for a bit, my father was still staring at me strangely because for once I was wearing a skirt, albeit with stiletto boots. They were cute damn it!

Finally, we were summoned and so we trooped in. There were about thirty of us in total, not unusual for this occasion. We were led to the end of the garden of a really pretty house that’s well hidden from the main road. They had placed chairs facing the house and we were invited to sit down. So we did, still talking quietly. I asked why no one had come to greet us and I was told they were surveying us from the house, seeing first of all whether we were really worth talking to. After an HOUR, someone came out and told informed us they wanted twelve representatives from the family. Naturally father went, the groom to be, brother, various uncles and two aunts at least. They went in, we sat outside, still a nice day so far. We talked some more, I inquired as to what they would demand as far as bride price. It varies with most tribes, some especially the Maasai require a large amount of cattle as their wealth is measured by the number of cows they have, followed by children….don’t ask. Ok, do but I’ll explain later. A friend of ours from another tribe said all they wanted were five goats, and one was roasted that day. Lol, Bf and Bw were telling me about their Luhyia traditions. He had to go twice to her compound, before they entertained him and even then they gave him a hard time. Lol, his friend had to go get her from her parents house after the ceremony had ended and after shelling out Kshs. 50,000 (about $650), they still wouldn’t release her so he threw them his Visa card and begged them to come so he could take her to her new home. The traditions vary between tribes but they are more along the same lines of the groom’s family and friends having to cajole her out of the house with cash, cattle etc.

So we sat there for about 20 minutes and one of my uncle’s came out of the house and called Bf, two other family friends and yours truly. I shook my head and was told to go. I was going to get checked out because they wanted to see that there were other girls in the house and also if maybe they had a boy on their side I could be paired up with. Lol, lol. This is all purely cosmetic but the tradition is important. So off I went into the house, quite large actually. We were let to the living room where there were now about 40 people from both sides present. The negotiation was done primarily in Kalenjin but you could get the gist of it. A cousin was translating for me silently. Her family wanted 5 cows and 20 sheep. Our negotiator thought that was too much so instead they settled on 3 cows and two bulls (which to me sounded way more than 20 sheep because quality studs are hard to find….pretty much the same in life, huh girls?)

They argued and haggled and finally settled down on the cattle and a cash payment of Kshs. 5000 (about $65). Then the negotiator on their side asked where we’d come from and we told them what home village and incredibly he gave back 1000 shillings "…ya mafuta." "For gas to get back home." LOL, I couldn’t believe it. But then I understood that, that was only part of it. We now had to bring "gifts". Blankets for her father, the negotiator and especially for her mother. There was also the extra money given to the negotiator for bargaining quite reasonably. Oh yeah, technically my brother should have been "fined" because he and the girl already have a child, so he owes her family as technically, she’s still under their roof and his child was an extra mouth to feed. Lol, but they didn’t. Now with B2, his girlfriend is from another tribe and there is a hefty fine to pay for his son. Lol, that should be interesting. Her folks are quite traditional, such that my step ma had to shave the infants head within a month of his birth as that is the custom in B2’s girlfriend’s tribe.

After all the negotiations were done, they brought out fresh cow’s milk and a traditional milk called Mursik which is milk that is curdled in a gourd that’s scrubbed with charcoal. It ferments over some days and then is served. It really is quite good. My new in-law now served her father’s family first to show that she’d crossed over so the milk signified the deal by her showing respect to her family (the new one). By the way, throughout the ceremony my future in law would not look at me and when she caught my eye she would ignore me or look away blankly because technically she didn’t know me. It was after the deal was done that she acknowledged me. Lol, my brother kept complaining about the price but it was all in good fun.

We then went out and told the rest of the family that a deal had been struck and our side gained a daughter. They served us an incredibly delicious lunch; I had to find a spot to eat separately because I was starving and I don’t look good eating on an empty stomach….or so I’ve been told.

Urgh, have to continue this later, it’s getting dark, hafta get home. I’ll finish this tomorrow but enjoy for now.

Now I know why tourists visit.

So I had quite the adventure this weekend. I'm going to break this blog down in two parts simply because there's so much about it. So on Friday, had the day off work which was part yay and part urghh because I hate missing even an hour of work. So much happens and today is Monday and I feel so out of the loop. Anyway, I didn't even know how I would get to Eldoret, which is where we were headed. I'd say it's about oh, 250 miles north-west of Nairobi. We (2 brothers - B1, B2, B1's best friend and his wife Bf & Bw) decided the night before over much needed beers as we'd been running around trying to get things finalized. Bf and I decided to take a bus that would leave Friday morning at 8 am and B2 and Bw would take the evening bus that day as they both couldn't get off work early. B1 was going to drive himself as he had loads of errands to run before hand and wasn't sure when he would be coming.

Friday morning, up way before the roosters, packed (forgot deodorant....as usual because B2 was rushing me out the door. We picked up Bf and Bw and drove to the bus station. We left super early because it's located somewhere on Haile Selaisse Avenue, which has the world's worst traffic and for no apparent reason. Seriously, it gets log jammed and when you finally squeeze through, there was no point to the traffic in the first place. Anyway, we went to buy the tickets, which were incredibly reasonable. 500 Kshs (which according to Fx rate on Friday is about $6.50). We couldn't get the 8 am to Eldoret but we could take the 10 am to Kitale, which is about 50 miles further but stops in Eldoret. We had time to kill so we actually left a luggage with B2, as B1 would pick it up later and bring it with him and save us the agony of lugging our clothes around. We had an awful breakfast at the Green Corner restaurant. (I will mention the names of places where service and/or food sucks in hopes that they may improve, which I doubt, but also as cautions to visitors). Their lunches btw can be good but avoid the breakfast unless you want to be disappointed.

Anyway, walked around Nairobi for a while as we still had a while to kill. Unfortunately, everyone seems to sense that you're getting ready to leave town and suddenly the phones start ringing and emergencies crop up all over the place. I left Bf (an attorney) on his cell phone and decided to check into work to leave some last minute instructions. Big Mistake. Never, ever go to the office when you're on holiday because you'll get bogged down. I did but it made the time fly and when I joined up with him later, still on the phone, we jogged back to the bus station and barely made it. Jumped on the bus and at exactly 10, we were off. Btw, we used Easy Coach, excellent service, they leave on time and unlike many of their competitors do not make any unscheduled stops. Their buses are clean and there's a conductor/assistant driver who maintains the peace and most importantly keeps the driver awake. They also search all passengers prior to boarding to discourage would-be thugs etc so it's one of the safer alternatives.

Leaving Nairobi was quite enjoyable. Relishing everyone very much in the rat race of life when you're finally relaxing is a mean but pleasant tonic to your own busy schedule. We cruised through Nairobi, into the outskirts where the area is very crowded, poor and slum like at some stages. Leaving the city, you'll notice how dirty it can get, even it there was a torrential downpour the night before. Bf finished his calls and settled down to read his book. I chose to enjoy the view as I hadn't seen/appreciated it in ages. The overcrowded houses and shops soon give way to lush, fertile farms and by the roadside are many farmers selling their crop. Cabbages, carrots, rhubarb, potatoes, pears, oranges....the variety is endless and you can always bargain. The prices are already ridiculously cheap compared to the city grocers and are quite fresh. The only thing you have to worry about is chemicals if any were used. The one thing I noticed was as we passed the many small shambas (farms), if you looked closely you'd realize that most if not all the people working on them were women. And usually you'd see their children helping or if they were too young, sitting beside there very busy mothers. What was alarming was when you'd pass the small little villages, you'd find so many men sitting in the shade, watching buses and other vehicles go by, some chewing miraa (herbal hallucinogenic which is quite legal) or some even napping. You'd see sagging benches with men just chatting the morning away while the women broke their backs. Go figure; they're not kidding when they say women are the backbone of Africa.

As you head north-west toward Nakuru, which is the only stop before Eldoret, the view gets
unbelievable. It's the rainy season so the landscape is a gorgeous green with occasional dry patches. Let me just say, you really have to visit Kenya. The country's landscape is absolutely stunning. Making your way toward Naivasha, Mt. Longonot (which I climbed when I was a kid) is revealed. The road is a sweeping drive between hills and into small valleys and in the beginning you get glimpses of the terrain. But there's an extremely long section to which the view on your left is visible and let me just say, wow. The drop is quite sheer and it's a little unnerving because you realize how high up you are. The mountain is supposedly a dormant volcano and it has been but you never know. The view stretches out as far as the eye can see and it's magnificent. Hell's Gate, the mountain, all part of the Great Rift Valley. At this point we started descending toward a small town called Naivasha. I shouldn't say small because it's home to a growing flower industry. The climate and the Lake Naivasha, all are factors to this growing export, which goes mainly to Europe and lately to Dubai of all places to be distributed further on. Some many miles later is Lake Elementaita. It is home to a large flock of flamingoes but alas the lake is drying up...very quickly. From the road, all you see is a patch of pink on a lake in the middle of nowhere. But when you get closer, you'll notice there's a large section of dry bed where water once was. The problem is that no rivers or a constant water source appear to feed into the lake and factor in the ozone issue, it cannot sustain itself and is heavily dependant on the rains. It was quite sad to see all the lodges and campsites that were built on the shores now quite a distance a way from the new shoreline. The scenery continues to be mesmerizing and you can actually see Maasai farmers grazing their large herds all over the place.

We continue on toward the town Gilgil that is quite close to the Aberdare National Park. I told you before about the Rhino Charge competition, which is going to take place this weekend and they hope to raise money to build the electrified fence that will keep the animals in and people out the park. Right around here is when the road gets bad, and I mean awful. It's at the Delamare Farm, which specializes, in dairy products, a range of meats including game meat. You may have seen the whole debacle surrounding the farm's owner who shot a ranger in self defense but the country is deeply divided because he's a white Kenyan farmer and the Attorney General dismissed his case quite rapidly causing an uproar. In all honesty, he was in the right as he was protecting his farm and workers, it's just the expediency with which the AG decided to dismiss the case (a matter of one month while there are many who have been lounging in jails for 10 or more years under similar circumstances) is what is alarming about who really is in charge here. I digress...the road gets incredibly horrible here. You'd think something would be done about it since it leads to many tourist attractions such as the very popular Nakuru National Park - has every animal you'd expect to see and in a much smaller area than the Tsavo parks in the South East. it also leads to the Aberdare national Park and to Nakuru, which is a growing business and tourism hub. But politics in this country are ROTTEN and that's the only reason why the roads are in such an appalling state.

Bf was asleep at this time but that mattered little to me because while looking around, I saw Zebra! Right by the side of the road. I climbed over him and went to the other side of the bus, strapped myself in and spent the next half hour marveling at the game all around me. There were herds of zebras on both sides of this very busy highway and in some sections, Thompson gazelles and antelopes. I was the kid on safari, nose pressed to the window, mouth open in a wide grin. I looked around to see if Bf was watching and I saw him sort of cringe and slide lower into his seat because of my eagerness, which was embarrassing. Lol, he later said that he wanted to hold up a book and pretend he didn't know me, while the other passengers looked rather bemused at my excitement. There were also baboons all around and I can't even describe how giddy I was when I watched to warthogs that had obviously been rolling around in the mud, cross the highway, right in front of the bus, tails ramrod straight in the air as the trotted quickly to the other side. Lol, I was giggling like a tourist....well I guess I am. In between all this you'd see many herdsmen with their cattle, literally a few feet away from the wild animals. I asked B1 on the way back on Sunday who's land it was that the animals roamed on and he really didn't know. I think the animals come from the Aberdare National Park and cross over to the other side to the Nakuru Park so the upcoming event to build the fence is really important. It's not uncommon to see the rotting carcasses of Zebra or antelope by the side of the road but I guess I should just think of it as deer crossing the highway. Still sad though.

We got to Nakuru on time and had a fifteen minute stretch your legs break and then back on the bus. This is where the land takes on the more agricultural feel that is this countries primary income earner. Tea farms, coffee though this is done more colder climate regions. Corn is the primary crop but more and more farmers are diversifying their products. You'll find more pumpkin, chili, passion fruit...etc. being grown and there's quite the market for these products. They also tend to be easier on the environment. Also, one promising thing I saw was despite the enormous deforestation that had plagued the Mau forest, there's actually a lot of money in tree farming so more and more farmers are turning to that as an alternative for large pieces of land that have been largely and traditionally overused for corn farming hence giving the soil a second chance and creating sustainable forests.

Ok, I sound like a National Geographic special so moving on. The road was still awful until about 30 miles outside of Eldoret where it eventually evened out. Eldoret has a new airport that has more and more passenger flights coming in from all over the region. It's also an excellent hub for various NGO's and the UN to service cargo flights to the North, particularly to the refugee camps that contain Somalis and more recently the displaced Darfur residents from southern Sudan. I will note that if you go further out beyond the city toward Kitale, there is a junction, which is home to a herd of giraffe! Lol, no, didn't get that far. Bf said that he appreciated my enthusiasm and excitement and said as a Kenyan, it's so easy to under-appreciate what we have. Normally he's angrily honking his horn at slow moving Zebra but said he'd start to take notice of any animals or routes they may be on for me.

We got to Eldoret on time and checked into our hotel. It was no Hilton but it sufficed. Has a very dorm room feel to it and if you're picky about your accommodations, probably not your cup of tea. the rates were great, about $20 for B/B. The ride back was pretty much the same, a lot of traffic typical of a Sunday back into the city. I was with B1 this time in his truck and so I got to know more about the land. I was disappointed though on the way back there were no warthogs.
Sniff

When Life interferes with Football....

Hola sweet people. It's getting harder and harder to actually sit down and work on the blog because time is my enemy. Also, so many things happen in the day that when I go to sleep, I'm actually dictating my blog out loud and clear but work invades my mind and I wake up with a frown, usually prioritizing what needs to be done when I get to the office.
Sob

I've become a 7 - 5 working stiff!

Anyway, work's going well, wish it was more in tune with my field but so far I've been hearing nothing but good things about my perfomance.

This weekend should be very interesting. One of the brothers is getting engaged and there's a complicated and interesting ceremony that accompanies this move towards marriage. As a sister, apparently my role is to go get her from her parents home and I have to beg, cajole and practically bribe her (very similar to how I was convinced to take on the task) to come out of their house and come with me to take her to my brother's house. There's a whole list of traditions and practise that acoompany this ceremony so I promise I'll blog it.
The only downside to this is that I will have no internet access where I'm going....distracted, my launch player just did an ad. for Wendy's Triple Cheeseburger....drooling...
Oh yeah, no internet access until I find a cyber cafe but I think time will once again be on someone else's side.

I also don't like the fact that this Saturday is the FA Cup Final between Man Utd. v. Arrsseenal (the bride is a Chelsea fan) so a month of pleading, begging and bribing to change the date has failed. Sigh. Oh well, Next year Chelsea is going down!
This weekend is also the Monaco Grand Prix and I know a bunch of us are going to be racing back to the city to go to the usual haunt to watch the race. Why is the Monaco GP so thrilling? Well as a close friend puts the track in perspetive, "It's like riding a bike in your living room." Damn, I might miss that. Oh well, yes, yes, happy, joy, engagement....wrong! It's messing with football!

Lol, laters, oh, personal friends, I have postcards galore I want to send out so e-mail me your addresses.

Follow up

The man died on Friday afternoon. Apparently it was a deliberate killing. He works for a major industrial firm that had a bid up for grabs on Tuesday and he'd been paid to deliver it to one of the competitors but that didn't happen. So it was all a contract killing. That's the story anyway.

The cops were absolutely awful though, their behavior and their attitude was disgusting and I'm going to see if I can do anything, something however small to make sure that sort of negligent behavior doesn't happen again. I mean they were complete assholes.

Ok, off to watch F1 then Arsenal v. Liverpool. Life without sports....is no life at all.

Safety in Nairobi

So how safe is Nairobi? I tend to forget sometimes that this is a big city with typical city problems. Unfortunately last night I was witness to one of them. Very long day at work and was exhausted and glad to be home. I tried to stay up and watch the British election numbers coming in but they kept pushing back the expected poll times so I gave up and went to bed. You know that stage of falling asleep when you’re on the edge of a long languid fall into deeply restful sleep. I was actually smiling while I drifted away when I heard what I now know were gunshots, then a loud bang, silence and another loud bang and the sound of an engine stuck in high rev. I lay there, my eyes wide open and my forehead wrinkled in thought. I knew that the disturbance had come from the entrance of the apartment complex, which was a bit away from my apartment itself so I wasn’t scared or startled. I just remember lying there and hearing that engine turning furiously but clearly going nowhere. I then started to realize that there had probably been an accident.

The apartment complex is built in a valley with more and more buildings coming up and approaching the river that runs through the bottom of the hill. The driveway through the area is "S" shaped all the way around as a straight drive would be too steep for most cars. When I heard that engine roaring I just thought that it might have been a drunk driver who misjudged the corners and speed and probably smashed into a wall. (You tend to see a lot of paint scrapings around the walls that frame the driveway because some designer so fit to make the road barely passable for two vehicles.

So I lay there depending whether I really wanted to go find out what was happening as it had been going on for five minutes flat now. I heard some neighbors yapping away loudly so I groaned and dragged myself about of bed, groping for my glasses, cursing the neighbors, as they were loud as hell. I looked outside and I saw them standing around gesturing in the direction of the entrance. I got my key and ventured out, not really sure what I would expect. I walked up the driveway and had to look away because of the blinding headlights shining down the hill. As I got closer, I saw that indeed a vehicle had come through the main gates but instead of turning left immediately to proceed down the drive, it had rammed straight ahead into the low concrete wall that framed the drive, gone through and the front wheels were spinning in mid-air, completely off the road. There was a lone passenger in the car; he appeared unconscious as his head was just lolling about. It was then I figured out the continued revving of the engine was because his foot was jammed on the accelerator. I asked the one sole person who’d ventured out into the night with me what had happened and she gave me a horrible but brief recap.
Apparently the man had approached the gate at high speed, yelling out the windows that he was being followed by car-jackers and was pleading with the askaris (watchmen) to open the gates and let him in. The askaris were understandably nervous and hesitated but then there were gunshots and the man rammed into the gate. The askaris then opened the gate and the driver crashed through and ofcourse in the panic drove straight-ahead and crashed into the barrier. Car jacking is fairly common in Kenya, as I know it is in most cities in the world. Just like anywhere else it happens, they target specific cars and apparently they usually follow the intended victim home a couple of times to figure out their driving style. There have been many sad incidents though where they (car jackers and robbers) lurk in the shadows as most Nairobi suburb streets are extremely poorly lit if at all and when the gate is being opened, they’ll jump out and either force their way into the car or the compound to get in the house. Sometimes people get killed and if you’re lucky, they’ll take just the vehicle and leave you in peace. Usually these cars have been targeted from the time they come into the country into Mombasa from mainly Dubai and they get "scoped" out. I think (not sure, have to check) the most stolen vehicle is a Toyota brand and also SUVs are usually targeted. In this case, the man’s car was more like a CUV, not sure what the brand was but nothing overtly stylish or expensive about it but it was evidently targeted.

I asked the lady who was telling me the story where the askaris had now gone as the gates were shut. She told me she didn’t know, she thinks they went to the police station. I looked back at the car that was now smoking and you could smell the heated engine. More and more people came out but were understandably afraid of approaching a vehicle that might blow up at any time. I rushed back to my apartment so that I could get a fire extinguisher if that did happen and also to get my brother who was blissfully asleep. I got him and we came back and there were more resident out there but no one approached the car. I asked anyone if the cops had come yet (a full 20 minutes had now elapsed since I heard the first bangs and by the way, I live less than 5 minutes from the police station.) One of the residents, actually the one who’s vehicle received a large shower of concrete chunks had actually jumped in his car with an askari and driven to the police station to go get help. He said when he got there, there was one desk sergeant who reeked of alcohol and was asleep. He told him about the accident and told him to send help and the officer shrugged and said, "I’m the only one here, what do you want me to do?"

They pleaded for a while to get him to call someone or do something but the man was clearly inebriated. So they drove back to the compound and parked at the entrance to deter anyone else from trying to come in. There were about 15 of us now out there, struck speechless at the thought that the same police station that’s next to the apartments that gives us an added assurance and certainly forces a higher rent, might as well have not been there. There was an almost audible whir of our minds at work, trying to figure out who to call next. I looked at the back of his car to see if he had the rescue insurance that I carry. I cannot stress enough how you need to have insurance in this country. There is a nationalized health care of sorts but to count on it is not wise. I carry a great insurance, a company called AAR who are known nationwide and were actually started doing "bush" rescues and were among the first who airlifted patients out. There service is impeccable and if they are your cover, you’re assured of excellent care. Ok, I sound like their marketing department but no really, they are quite good.
Anyway, the man didn’t have any sign of that sort of cover visible on his vehicle. We were all wondering out loud who to call. I thought about 911 but oh yeah, I’m not in Woo anymore. As we began to ponder this more and more, the car, which was still running, started to power down. It eventually ran out of gas it seemed as it completely shut down. His lights were still on as well as his radio. I went round to the driver’s side and saw the bullet holes through the back window. I wasn’t sure but I’m pretty sure he wasn’t hit and had just knocked himself out when he hit the wall. I looked closely at the car and realized it was my neighbor from across the street. I’d seen his car many times as he pulled in, in the evenings and sometimes in the morning and I could have sworn I saw a little girl in his car in school uniform on Tuesday. I stared at the car some more and was more convinced that it was indeed our neighbor. I told my brother this and he too started to recognize the car. Just then, a police truck showed up with a couple of officers brandishing these massive guns and in my limited knowledge I can only describe as AK looking. They jumped out, asking where the car, which was right in front of them, was. We all said, "right in front of you," incredulous that they’d shown up a full half hour after someone had gone to fetch them. Get this; they were the cops from the neighboring precinct. (Not sure what the Kenyan term is.) I asked in disbelief where the hell our cops were but they were not to be bothered and my brother quietly reminded me, that I was not in Potomac anymore. I shut up and watched as they strutted around the vehicle, guns in hands, residents in pajamas watching from a distance. They tried to open the doors but they were locked and the man inside still wasn’t responding. They then asked…if anyone had a flashlight. Ummm, it’s midnight, you’re a cop, you have all this weaponry hardware but somewhere among your arsenal a flashlight isn’t part of the package.

My brother ran back to the apartment to get his flashlight while I watched the cops. They were still trying to figure out how to open the door and were arguing among themselves. Some one had the bright idea to knock out the back window that had been shot at but no one thought to collect evidence or any such thing. They then unlocked the car but the way it had been wedged between the wall, there was room only to open each side a couple of inches. At that time I began to wonder, where the hell is the ambulance. Again….insurance, you must have it. The ambulance has to be called separately and is not attached to any police station. Actually, the police stations don’t appear to have any medical units as such. So this man could have broken his neck but no collar was being produced to protect him from any unnecessary movement. My brother and other residents returned with flashlights to give to the cops and they began to argue about which side to remove him from. The thing that pissed me off and I’m absolutely livid about is that they then turned to us, the residents, standing in our pajamas and told us to remove the man from the vehicle. They actually directed it at all the males in the group and one pointed at my brother and told him to come remove the man. I blurted out, "But that’s your job, why should he remove him?" In my mind I’m thinking communicable diseases, there’s shattered glass and jagged edges all over, no medics, no gloves, nothing yet you want my brother to remove a total stranger. Yes, yes, I know, selfish it seems but you should have seen how those cops rolled in, swinging their guns and acting like fat cats. I kept calling my brother aside as they tried to get other residents to join in and gradually more of my mates began to question why they weren’t doing their job. Gradually, they stopped trying to order the residents around and instead pulled the man out himself. They dragged him out, four cops holding a limb, his head dragging on the floor below him. I don’t think he was shot though as there wasn’t a drop of blood anywhere and for that I was grateful. He’d also been wearing his seat belt but his airbag (if there was one) hadn’t gone off. They took him out to their truck and I shit you not, opened the back and put him in like a sack of potatoes. They rearranged his limbs so they could shut the door and once that was done, they got on their walkie talkies and nobody made any effort to get in and drive him off.

At this point, MY precinct's vehicle rolls in and we were not amused. The adrenaline rush of fear had been replaced by a seething anger at these officers. There was a study done about a month ago and the Police have come in yet again as the most corrupt division/office in the country. They almost always expect bribes and will create false charges when they’re not paid. My own father has been a victim of this so as much as I’d like to say they are not all corrupt, they’re certainly not discriminating when it comes to whom they want bribes from. So our boys in blue with guns show up, chatting away on radios, taking personal calls on those units as well and asking about the vehicles. They were fucking pompous asses. I can’t delicately put it because to me they were super assholes. We started to demand why they hadn’t taken the man to the hospital and us our voices grew louder, they finally got in their vehicle, with plenty of space in the backseat, injured victim on the floor of the car in the back and they drove off at a very leisurely pace, over what I can assure you are extremely bad road….no collar, back boards, no medical attention.

After they’d left, I followed the officers down to what I believed was his apartment but no one answered the door. We sat there and chatted with other neighbors, discussing the general safety of Nairobi and the conclusion was that we live in a good neighborhood that’s well protected and is really better off than most places. I would love to name my neighborhood but I’d rather not but I will tell you if the diplomats, aid workers and other foreign nationals who chose to live there for the one of the same reasons we did: proximity to a police station, you better think about how much you can really count on a work force that is so incredibly incompetent yet get paid to do so.

I couldn’t sleep for two hours after that and I would have given anything to be able to swallow a Valium but I settled on aspirin and breathing exercises. I’m not as frightened as I was; as random as the attack may have been, it’s the vehicles they want the most, not the passengers. If that’s the case, I now love and appreciate my brother’s wheezing, ancient and bitchy Peugeot, No one will dare touch that car.

Lessons learned:

If you’re driving home and it looks like someone has been following you for quite a while, drive to the police station.
Always alternate your route and the times you get home..
This really is a good country. It’s just has a shaky infrastructure.

It's the weekend. Yay.

Insane in the Membrane

As I write this, the First Crazy is on a complete rampage through all the media houses in Nairobi. Early this morning, actually late last night she went to the Nation House which is home to the Daily Nation newspaper and said she was going to stage a hunger strike at their offices until they printed her version of the story. She demanded to see the editor who’d approved the story about her late night antics on Friday. She was also upset because the Standard newspaper had reported that she had gone to the Muthaiga police station to file a statement and she was wearing shorts. She went on to say yes she was wearing shorts, they should have taken a picture, she can wear anything she wants, shorts, pants, mini-skirts and "yes, I even wear bikinis". You gotta see this lady to truly marvel at such bravado. She completely took the Nation office hostage and when one news crew arrived a little late and began to film, she came over and slapped a cameraman’s equipment down and the reporter across the face. I actually shouldn’t call her the First Crazy because she’s showing all signs to the fact that something is truly not right upstairs. Anyway, read the articles, the story is unbelievable. I’m starving here; I skipped breakfast because I had to watch news of this lunacy. Oh, on top of that, she wanted to have the World Bank president arrested on grounds of disturbing the peace but the police had to delicately remind her that he enjoyed diplomatic immunity and could not be arrested.

Where is the president in all of this? Good question, no one knows. She cannot be "silenced" as she constantly insists. Lol, she said that she has always been known as the woman who got things done and now that she’s First Lady they are more publicized. She said something to this extent, "When I moved to the State House and power went out in Muthaiga, people would call me and say, ‘Lucy, we have no power, we can’t sleep because all the generators are running. Please, can you do something?’ I would call KPLC* and I would order them, yes I give orders, you can put that in your papers! And I would tell them, the people of Muthaiga have no power and cannot sleep, do something. And they would listen to me and power would be restored. I stand for the weak and the voiceless people of Kenya and I get things done." For those of you who’ve never been to Kenya, Muthaiga is one of the richest neighborhoods among the suburbs. I mean the place is lavish, huge mansions and just plain loaded but evidently those folks are downtrodden and oppressed and need Lucy to be their voice.

http://www.eastandard.net/hm_news/news.php?articleid=19507

She’s still running over town right now, visiting media houses and insisting that she’s the voice of reason. And elections are not until 2007 so there’ll be two more years of this or according to her, 7 more because she knows that her husband will get reelected.

*KPLC is the Kenya Power and Lighting Company but are commonly referred to as Kenya Paraffin Lamps and Candles in the rural areas and other urban areas as the service is so often interrupted some folks haven’t had electricity for months.

Cyber Cafe etiquette

It is not polite to sit sit next to me, say hello very nicely, then put a briefcase over your lap and start browsing porn sites! Eww, I had to leave a cafe a few hours ago for that same reason. The guy was squirming in his seat and moaning softly and I didn't know why until I sort of leaned back and glanced at his monitor. GROSS! Lol, I left very quickly and complained to the owner and he shrugged his shoulders and smiled ruefully and suggested I sit in a different section next time. I'm back again because my brother joined me in town and I'm in a much better section. Lol. The problem is the prices at this cafe are unbelievably reasonable, especially if I have a lot of catching up to do as far as e-mails, news and such so I can afford to spend more time here. Usually I'm on the run so I'll stop at a cafe that's on the ground floor of my building but they charge 2 shillings a minute while the other one charges 50 cents a minute. Oh great, he's still here looking at porn....with volume now! URGHH! Oh yes, when I go home, I usually wash my hands about 20 times before I touch anything. I'm becoming obsessive compulsive about that. I now have a vague idea of what I may have been in contact with. Lol. Gross!

There are tons of cyber cafes sprinkled around the city and the rates are usually great unless you're at Sarit center, a mall in Westlands. There is one cyber cafe in the building that can be accessed by everyone. There are two on the ground floor but they're for pre-paid customers and frankly they are quite slow. Well the mall has fairs at least once a month on just about every thing ranging from toursim to home/garden shows. If you're desperate for internet access, this one cafe charges an appaling 4 shillings a minute. But if money is of no objection then it's okay to pay those exorbitant prices. Some places will advertise "wireless" in their title. Do not be fooled. Most of these services are dial-up and the connection can be crushingly slow. Sometimes you'll go to at least 5 cafes and find their service is down and that's when the more expensive cafes make money as they use better connections or have better units. I have heard that some hotels have wireless but I've yet to discover one that offers it and very few hotels have really good websites. Damn, I need a laptop.

Labor Day Weekend

I did a very long entry in the blog and when I tried to publish, the server died and I hadn't saved any of my work so it's history. Anyway, what I covered were a couple of stories that made up this weekend. As it was Labor day, the government usually organizes a march of different labor groups but this year attendance was poor and you wonder why? The economy sucks (insert expletive). More and more people are losing jobs and even the travel industry is affected. One of the major local airlines just folded because their parent company British Airways refused to continue the contract. And it was done very suddenly so thousands of travelers were left stranded where they were.

Kenya's first lady is truly certifiable and I will briefly detail why. The outgoing World Bank President to the region, Diop, had a farewell party this weekend at his home in an upscale suburb of the city. He's a jazz musician and I've seen him perform, brilliant man. Anyway, he had tons of people at this party, which was a who's who of Nairobi. The French and Canadian Ambassadors as well as two for the First Family kids were there. Apparently she came storming in pyjamas or something and began to unplug equipment and throw stuff around because ranting and raving "This is Muthaiga not Korogocho", the latter being a slum area. She said the noise was too much, she'd had it and she was screaming at Diop and at one point even slapped his wife across the face. Her own kids tried to calm her down but she was having none of it. She's done crazy thing in the past including denouncing the president's other wife, a kind and more diplomatic lady. She even got the president to denounce her after much prodding yet the lady enjoys a secret service and police detail. Hmm. She's kinda crazy actually.

Anyway, they're even more bleak tales of life in Kenya.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/7677938/ This link is about how alley abortions are on the rise and there are more stories about mothers dumping new born babies and more people are calling for abortion to be legalized. The statistics also about young mothers who conceal their pregnancies and then dumping the infants at birth are on the rise. The stigma of being a young single mother in most communities that are fairly traditional is too much burden for them to bear so they get rid of their children.

http://allafrica.com/stories/200504290401.html This link is about how 2 out 3 women live in fear of being raped. This statistic was discovered during a poll about a bill that's on the table to castrate rapists. There have been horrible stories about rape and the victims have been getting younger and younger. 13 year old girl who was raped by a close male relative and contracting HIV and also syphillis which led to the dementia. A 17 year old handicapped girl who starts showing signs of being pregnant and after being repeatedly questioned as to the father of her child says that her own father frequently sleeps in her bed and it had been going on for years. Tragic, tragic and awful. The story is quite scary.

Anyway, good news, the rainy season is here, yay for farmers, boo for city folk because the drainage system sucks ass and traffic gets crippled when even a drop falls. I'll be staying later in the office just so that I can avoid rush hour. Laters, miffed I lost the first blog though.