Pole, pole -sorry, sorry I haven't written in a while. I have been busy with Swahili classes and guests from Sweden amongst other things. A few weekends ago we set off to Mount Kenya, the highest peak in the country with an altitude of nearly 6000m. As usual when traveling in Kenya we set off early in the morning but the roads where really good and we got to the hotel in no time. The hotel itself wasn't a fancy place at all, something I had already suspected when I had a look at their website, have a look for yourselves Mount Kenya Leisure Lodge. The very nice hotel Fairmount could only offer our Swedish guests a rate of 708 dollars for a double, you have got to be fcking kidding? So we settled for the less nice hotel with an interior from the 70's, at least we were reminded of our happy up-bringing.
The surroundings were as breathtaking as the cool mountain air, it looks somewhat like the European Alps but slightly more exotic. We hit the road after a mediocre lunch and went straight for the national park. I don't know what we had expected, bad planning maybe? Of course this would not be like other safaris we had been to, I mean going uphill on a rocky road in the middle of the forest, well we could not see much. At about 3000 m there was finally a base camp and we got out of the car to have a look at the surroundings. We decided to go for a little walk up the mountain, I have to say it was a bit scary since there are wild animals living even at this height. There was a distinct animal odour probably buffalo since there were some large poo here and there..... We continued the walk becoming more and more puffed, breathing like a 80-year olds and poor Mats was carrying Noah on his shoulders as well, the air is much thinner up there and contains less oxygen, time to turn around before turning blue.
We went back to the hotel and enjoyed a GT in the warming afternoon sun. Since the lunch was pretty much a disaster we thought we could head to one of the nicer hotels for dinner.
By 6 o´clock we were back in the car and took off, we passed a sign with the word equator written on it, pretty cool. They say that the water swirls the other way in the sink in the Southern hemisphere, got to test that..not that I know which way it swirls in the Northern hempisphere...
Anyhow we drove and we drove and decided check a sign saying restaurant, we got there and thought the place looked even dodgier than the place we already stayed at. We drove and we drove and became more and more hungry, finally we arrived at the "very nice hotel" and they would not let us in because we were too late for dinner. GAH!
So we had to turn around, decided to check the dodgy place out anyway. While we were sitting there sipping on our drinks in the more or less empty restaurant we came up with the brilliant idea of calling "our" hotel to see if they could still fix dinner. Indeed they could, 2.5 hour later we were back at the hotel (they must have laughed at us behind our backs). Dinner turned out to be pretty nice.
We slept like logs that night.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
Amusing and annoying happenings in Kenya
There is of course a huge cultural difference between Kenyans and Europeans and every now and again this causes misunderstandings but also laughs. There are also different ways of handling things and bureaucracy is many times very time consuming and people seem to be unable to think outside the box....unless you cash up to speed up processes of course. I have a few stories except Shakila's encounter with the Australian Embassy and the airport customs which I have recently told you about.
For example I went into a clothing store the other day and bought a dress and when paying with my new credit card the shop assistant pointed to the card and said it wasn't signed. I always forget to sign my cards so I said that it was new and I had forgotten to sign it. I was given a pen, signed my card and then the receipt...then the shop assistant carefully compared my just signed card with my just signed receipt..hello?
I almost burst into laughter but I had to keep my mouth shut or else he may have canceled the purchase. I did not have the heart to point out, that there really was no need of comparing the two since I had just signed them both there...
Another story; I had been called to an interview by the MD of an East African IT company, he had received my CV from Mats's boss and wanted to meet me. His secretary called me and asked if I could meet him at 9 am the next morning which was fine by me.
I got there in time and the secretary said he would be a little late because he had just stepped into a meeting, eh ok? I thought we had an appointment? Anyhow, I was given the today's paper and a cup of tea and sat down to wait for him. Since I had never been to a business appointment or an interview in Kenya before I didn't know what to expect in terms of people showing up in time, however it was him who had contacted me and not the other way around.
The time past and by ten o'clock I started to feel a bit pissed off especially since I had left Noah with Mats who had taken time off work so that I could attend the interview. At 10.30, an hour and a half later, I called Mats and asked him if this was common or to be expected in Kenya and he answered that he thought it was quite rude. By 10.45 I got up, went to the reception desk and just before I started speaking I realized I was really annoyed. Rather angrily I blurted out - Sorry but I cannot wait any longer, my fiance is home from work taking care of our son just so I could go to this meeting. The secretary and her friend looked shocked, I guess they could see I was furious and it was probably also a very unexpected thing to do by a woman. - If he wants to talk to me, he can call me on my mobile, I continued.
-Oh sorry Miss, he will be here soon. - Sorry but I can't wait. I stepped outside and never heard from him again. I still wonder if this was a clash of cultures or just him being rude, I mean at least he could have called me telling he was sorry and cancel the meeting or saying he had been caught up.
I am sure there will be plenty more of these encounters :)
People here are truly amazing, most of them speak 3 languages fluently even if they haven't even had a proper education! Kenyans also seem to have developed their own language when it comes to text messages :) Our fantastic driver text me on a regular basis and it always brings a smile, it could be something like: "I been toda park went fo som exacise inda forest...
For example I went into a clothing store the other day and bought a dress and when paying with my new credit card the shop assistant pointed to the card and said it wasn't signed. I always forget to sign my cards so I said that it was new and I had forgotten to sign it. I was given a pen, signed my card and then the receipt...then the shop assistant carefully compared my just signed card with my just signed receipt..hello?
I almost burst into laughter but I had to keep my mouth shut or else he may have canceled the purchase. I did not have the heart to point out, that there really was no need of comparing the two since I had just signed them both there...
Another story; I had been called to an interview by the MD of an East African IT company, he had received my CV from Mats's boss and wanted to meet me. His secretary called me and asked if I could meet him at 9 am the next morning which was fine by me.
I got there in time and the secretary said he would be a little late because he had just stepped into a meeting, eh ok? I thought we had an appointment? Anyhow, I was given the today's paper and a cup of tea and sat down to wait for him. Since I had never been to a business appointment or an interview in Kenya before I didn't know what to expect in terms of people showing up in time, however it was him who had contacted me and not the other way around.
The time past and by ten o'clock I started to feel a bit pissed off especially since I had left Noah with Mats who had taken time off work so that I could attend the interview. At 10.30, an hour and a half later, I called Mats and asked him if this was common or to be expected in Kenya and he answered that he thought it was quite rude. By 10.45 I got up, went to the reception desk and just before I started speaking I realized I was really annoyed. Rather angrily I blurted out - Sorry but I cannot wait any longer, my fiance is home from work taking care of our son just so I could go to this meeting. The secretary and her friend looked shocked, I guess they could see I was furious and it was probably also a very unexpected thing to do by a woman. - If he wants to talk to me, he can call me on my mobile, I continued.
-Oh sorry Miss, he will be here soon. - Sorry but I can't wait. I stepped outside and never heard from him again. I still wonder if this was a clash of cultures or just him being rude, I mean at least he could have called me telling he was sorry and cancel the meeting or saying he had been caught up.
I am sure there will be plenty more of these encounters :)
People here are truly amazing, most of them speak 3 languages fluently even if they haven't even had a proper education! Kenyans also seem to have developed their own language when it comes to text messages :) Our fantastic driver text me on a regular basis and it always brings a smile, it could be something like: "I been toda park went fo som exacise inda forest...
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Veiled sentiments
I am going to continue the story about Nairobi soon, I have something else I want to share with you. When we were on holiday we met a very friendly woman from Lamu (For her privacy, I won't mention her real name, let's call her Shakila) who was a friend of the owner of Subira House. She is 36-years old, born in Lamu and has 4 children. One adopted girl who is 15 who has escaped with her boyfriend to Mombasa, one 10-year old son from a previous marriage and 2 children who are 3 and 5 with her new husband who is from New Zealand. I learned that being married both two and three times having lots of children who are half siblings is quite common in Lamu. Another thing I learned is that someone's child may very well live with a grandmother or an aunt instead of the biological mother, there is nothing strange with that. To a Westerner it may seem odd to leave your child to grow up with someone else even if they are related but in Lamu it is not, children is not anyone's property.
We met Shakila and her 10-year old son while staying at Subira House, she had come to visit her family for 3 months since she nowadays lives in New Zealand with her kiwi husband and 2 children. Her other son who lives with his grandmother in one of the Lamu islands had come to spend time with his mum here in Lamu town. Shakila's English is not the best so at first I found it hard to understand the intricate relationships. If someone in Sweden would leave their husband and 2 small children for 3 months and take off it would seem very odd or even unacceptable but then we don't have the same perception of time. A week or two in Lamu is nothing but in Western countries time is everything. Shakila and her son were very helpful and kind during our stay in Lamu that when mentioning she was going to Nairobi to organize her visa, I instantly offered her to come and stay with us in case she needed. She told me she always felt scared when in Nairobi and I think our offer came somewhat as a relief to her.
She didn't really know what date she would arrive in Nairobi but she said she would send a sms. After we left Lamu I did not hear a word from her until the very same day she was sitting on the bus on her way from Mombasa hahaha talk about different perception of time, she was to arrive the very next morning. Precisely that same week Mats was away in South Africa and we had also promised to lend our driver to Mats's boss, who's son needed being taken to school in the morning and picked up in the afternoon - typical! Shakila would arrive around 6.30 -7 the next morning, the boss's son had to be taken to school around 7.30 and then I needed to take Noah to kindergarten (for his trial period) and spend the day there with him..
Well, somehow I got the driver to pick her up by the bus stop a few hours after arrival, there was nothing much I could do about the wait. She was then taken to the Embassy to organize her visa and then had to wait for us to come and pick her up at 1.30 p.m thankfully the Embassy was nearby.
Shakila was supposed to catch a plane to New Zealand the following morning, however there had been some problems at the Embassy..I then learned that the visa she needed to apply for was a so called transit visa. I couldn't understand what she would need a transit visa for when she was going to New Zealand where she is also a resident. Apparently, the plane would make a stop over in Melbourne for a few hours to fuel up...and due to that she needed a transit visa - FCK crazy this would never happen to a European. Anyhow the problem was that when arriving at the Embassy she was told that the application form could only be printed off the Internet, heeellooo? Firstly how many Kenyans have computer access, secondly how many Kenyans know how to work a computer? Shakila had an appointment at the Embassy 9 o'clock the next morning and therefore had to cancel her flight.
I took her home and got a friend to print out the application since we don't have a printer in the apartment. I then helped her to fill out the 5-page visa application which took me 40 minutes, someone not fluent in English would not make it by themselves. We tried to re-book her flight but it was booked out and the only available seat was five days later, poor little Shakila.
I dropped her at the Australian Embassy the next morning on our way to kindergarten and hoped there would be no hassles. Of course there were more problems, the Embassy people said the application was ok but she now had to wait 10 days before she could travel.WHAT? After some pleading they finally agreed and stamped her passport.
Shakila spent the rest of the week with us and I learned a few things about the Muslim culture in Lamu. She showed me a photo of her extended family and started explaining who was who, I was miserably lost only after a few seconds. "This is my sister, we have the same mother but not father, but her father is also the father of my other half sister" and so forth, I just could not follow and I wonder how they themselves can keep track of all their siblings (I am saying this without being judgmental!).
Shakila has applied three times for a visa for her son (who now lives with her mother) to New Zealand but this seems almost impossible due to bureaucracy. She has her x-husbands approval since he of course also believes that his son would be offered a better life in New Zealand, Lamu is after all pretty poor. She also needs her sons birth certificate which she actually has, she also needs her x-husbands birth certificate and there is no such document not uncommon in Kenya at least not during the 1960's. Many people here do not really know how old they are, evidently a birth certificate from someone living in a small village with no doctors would be to ask too much. So her son cannot get his visa because there are no birth certificates to prove whatever they need to prove. Of course, I realize that there has to be some sort of process and legalities when granting someone a visa, however this must be a common issue when dealing with people born in developing countries and one would think there must be another way of solving this problem. Maybe the administrative hindrance has been put there deliberately as to curb immigrants from entering the country, what do I know. I just think it is terrible that someone, a mother who has residency and work in the country cannot be allowed to bring her 10-year old son over to live with her and his half brothers.
Anyhow, at the day of her departure, Mats decided to go with her to the airport just to make sure she would get on that plane. What do you know, she got stuck again. Since Mats could not be let through customs without a ticket, he could only glance through the glass windows, seeing something wasn't right. Shakila tried to explain the problem through the glass in her bad English..not very successful. I felt proud of my man, when he played a trick and waved to the guard saying she had left her mobile phone in the car and finally he was let in. He then sourced the problem and learned that more than one Kenyan person had the same passport number as her and at first the Australian customs would not let her in. After an hour or so she had received clearance and then only waited for the New Zealand customs to clear her. More problems!
Her residency visa did not allow her to leave New Zealand in the first place hmmm she has residency and is not allowed to leave the country? After half an hour or so, they cleared her and the residency problem was only a technicality which could be solved when back in New Zealand. SIGH!
After all these processes I realize how fortunate I am to be born Swedish.
A few days later I received a thankful text message from Shakila saying she had landed in New Zealand.
We met Shakila and her 10-year old son while staying at Subira House, she had come to visit her family for 3 months since she nowadays lives in New Zealand with her kiwi husband and 2 children. Her other son who lives with his grandmother in one of the Lamu islands had come to spend time with his mum here in Lamu town. Shakila's English is not the best so at first I found it hard to understand the intricate relationships. If someone in Sweden would leave their husband and 2 small children for 3 months and take off it would seem very odd or even unacceptable but then we don't have the same perception of time. A week or two in Lamu is nothing but in Western countries time is everything. Shakila and her son were very helpful and kind during our stay in Lamu that when mentioning she was going to Nairobi to organize her visa, I instantly offered her to come and stay with us in case she needed. She told me she always felt scared when in Nairobi and I think our offer came somewhat as a relief to her.
She didn't really know what date she would arrive in Nairobi but she said she would send a sms. After we left Lamu I did not hear a word from her until the very same day she was sitting on the bus on her way from Mombasa hahaha talk about different perception of time, she was to arrive the very next morning. Precisely that same week Mats was away in South Africa and we had also promised to lend our driver to Mats's boss, who's son needed being taken to school in the morning and picked up in the afternoon - typical! Shakila would arrive around 6.30 -7 the next morning, the boss's son had to be taken to school around 7.30 and then I needed to take Noah to kindergarten (for his trial period) and spend the day there with him..
Well, somehow I got the driver to pick her up by the bus stop a few hours after arrival, there was nothing much I could do about the wait. She was then taken to the Embassy to organize her visa and then had to wait for us to come and pick her up at 1.30 p.m thankfully the Embassy was nearby.
Shakila was supposed to catch a plane to New Zealand the following morning, however there had been some problems at the Embassy..I then learned that the visa she needed to apply for was a so called transit visa. I couldn't understand what she would need a transit visa for when she was going to New Zealand where she is also a resident. Apparently, the plane would make a stop over in Melbourne for a few hours to fuel up...and due to that she needed a transit visa - FCK crazy this would never happen to a European. Anyhow the problem was that when arriving at the Embassy she was told that the application form could only be printed off the Internet, heeellooo? Firstly how many Kenyans have computer access, secondly how many Kenyans know how to work a computer? Shakila had an appointment at the Embassy 9 o'clock the next morning and therefore had to cancel her flight.
I took her home and got a friend to print out the application since we don't have a printer in the apartment. I then helped her to fill out the 5-page visa application which took me 40 minutes, someone not fluent in English would not make it by themselves. We tried to re-book her flight but it was booked out and the only available seat was five days later, poor little Shakila.
I dropped her at the Australian Embassy the next morning on our way to kindergarten and hoped there would be no hassles. Of course there were more problems, the Embassy people said the application was ok but she now had to wait 10 days before she could travel.WHAT? After some pleading they finally agreed and stamped her passport.
Shakila spent the rest of the week with us and I learned a few things about the Muslim culture in Lamu. She showed me a photo of her extended family and started explaining who was who, I was miserably lost only after a few seconds. "This is my sister, we have the same mother but not father, but her father is also the father of my other half sister" and so forth, I just could not follow and I wonder how they themselves can keep track of all their siblings (I am saying this without being judgmental!).
Shakila has applied three times for a visa for her son (who now lives with her mother) to New Zealand but this seems almost impossible due to bureaucracy. She has her x-husbands approval since he of course also believes that his son would be offered a better life in New Zealand, Lamu is after all pretty poor. She also needs her sons birth certificate which she actually has, she also needs her x-husbands birth certificate and there is no such document not uncommon in Kenya at least not during the 1960's. Many people here do not really know how old they are, evidently a birth certificate from someone living in a small village with no doctors would be to ask too much. So her son cannot get his visa because there are no birth certificates to prove whatever they need to prove. Of course, I realize that there has to be some sort of process and legalities when granting someone a visa, however this must be a common issue when dealing with people born in developing countries and one would think there must be another way of solving this problem. Maybe the administrative hindrance has been put there deliberately as to curb immigrants from entering the country, what do I know. I just think it is terrible that someone, a mother who has residency and work in the country cannot be allowed to bring her 10-year old son over to live with her and his half brothers.
Anyhow, at the day of her departure, Mats decided to go with her to the airport just to make sure she would get on that plane. What do you know, she got stuck again. Since Mats could not be let through customs without a ticket, he could only glance through the glass windows, seeing something wasn't right. Shakila tried to explain the problem through the glass in her bad English..not very successful. I felt proud of my man, when he played a trick and waved to the guard saying she had left her mobile phone in the car and finally he was let in. He then sourced the problem and learned that more than one Kenyan person had the same passport number as her and at first the Australian customs would not let her in. After an hour or so she had received clearance and then only waited for the New Zealand customs to clear her. More problems!
Her residency visa did not allow her to leave New Zealand in the first place hmmm she has residency and is not allowed to leave the country? After half an hour or so, they cleared her and the residency problem was only a technicality which could be solved when back in New Zealand. SIGH!
After all these processes I realize how fortunate I am to be born Swedish.
A few days later I received a thankful text message from Shakila saying she had landed in New Zealand.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Nairobi now and then
I want to tell you a little about Nairobi, as you may already now Nairobi is situated on a high plateau, 1600 m above sea level. In the early 1900's Nairobi was the British administrative center and quickly became the European focus of high life in Africa. The new settlers often lived miles apart and probably a life that was often a bit lonely, to make up for what they had left behind, a new lavish lifestyle was created. To Londoners and Parisians this place in Kenya became known as "the Happy Valley and the Happy Valley set".
The Brits amused themselves by attending parties, dinners, horse races, playing tennis and of course going on safaris which at that time referred to Big-game hunt. At these different gatherings there was always an abundance of alcohol served such as pink gin, gin with a dash of Angostura bitters, champagne and vintage vines.
Most households at that time had servants and only the best china was good enough to dine on. Well-known places were the Muthaiga Club which still stands to this day, another social corner stone was the Sarova Stanley hotel where Hemingway used to sit by the bar. On Saturdays the"Happy Valley set" drove down the hills in their Buicks, women all dressed up in long gowns and men wearing black tie. They would enjoy a night of dining, dancing and drinking until the break of dawn. Imagine all the gossip and safari tales that must have been passed around there. It was not only at home that life was lived in utter luxury also on Safaris this high standard of living was maintained. A man named Finch Hutton ran safaris for the rich and famous and offered large tents, daily laundry and hot baths- probably more than most safaris today can offer...When returning after a day out exploring there would be a hot bath, cocktails and a dinner table laid with white linen and silverware. How extravagant!
Each year, Finch Hutton traveled to Paris to buy only the finest wine and spirits to stock up for the Muthaiga club, he was not only a clever businessman, he was also the lover of the now very famous Karen Blixen. Apparently he was introduced to her at the Muthaiga Club in 1918 and later became friends with her and her Swedish husband. In 1925 she divorced her husband and shortly afterward he moved into her house. It is however rumored that he was either homo or bisexual. One can still visit Karen Blixen's beautiful home in Ngong Hills which today has a museum and a nice restaurant.
The story of Nairobi is to be continued..
The Brits amused themselves by attending parties, dinners, horse races, playing tennis and of course going on safaris which at that time referred to Big-game hunt. At these different gatherings there was always an abundance of alcohol served such as pink gin, gin with a dash of Angostura bitters, champagne and vintage vines.
Most households at that time had servants and only the best china was good enough to dine on. Well-known places were the Muthaiga Club which still stands to this day, another social corner stone was the Sarova Stanley hotel where Hemingway used to sit by the bar. On Saturdays the"Happy Valley set" drove down the hills in their Buicks, women all dressed up in long gowns and men wearing black tie. They would enjoy a night of dining, dancing and drinking until the break of dawn. Imagine all the gossip and safari tales that must have been passed around there. It was not only at home that life was lived in utter luxury also on Safaris this high standard of living was maintained. A man named Finch Hutton ran safaris for the rich and famous and offered large tents, daily laundry and hot baths- probably more than most safaris today can offer...When returning after a day out exploring there would be a hot bath, cocktails and a dinner table laid with white linen and silverware. How extravagant!
Each year, Finch Hutton traveled to Paris to buy only the finest wine and spirits to stock up for the Muthaiga club, he was not only a clever businessman, he was also the lover of the now very famous Karen Blixen. Apparently he was introduced to her at the Muthaiga Club in 1918 and later became friends with her and her Swedish husband. In 1925 she divorced her husband and shortly afterward he moved into her house. It is however rumored that he was either homo or bisexual. One can still visit Karen Blixen's beautiful home in Ngong Hills which today has a museum and a nice restaurant.
The story of Nairobi is to be continued..
Monday, January 19, 2009
Going to the hospital in the middle of the night
I have noticed that living in Nairobi is actually quite expensive, I feel like I am food shopping everyday. I have started to get used to all the zeros, 1000 Kenyan shilling is about 9 Euros or a 100 Sek and before having a feel for how much you get for your money it was easy to spend them. Saving time is here, well not really but why pay double the price for something?
Locally grown fruit and vegetables are really cheap and so are flowers. Beef filet has become or new "kenyansk falukorv" (a Swedish type of sausage)and we eat it frequently so that we'll get sick of it before moving back, in Sweden you just can't get fine meat that cheap. A liter of yogurt is about 1.4€, a 500g package of Kellogg's Cornflakes is 5€ - super expensive, I am not buying that again! Hold on it gets worse a package of Kraft's Philadelphia cream cheese is 7€, when my friend told me I thought she was kidding, by the time I got home to have a look at my receipt I was crying.
Now we also know the cost of going to the hospital, last night it was time to go and see a doctor again. Some time after midnight I felt something wasn't right with Noah because he was having a restless sleep, tossing and turning. I put my hand on his forehead feeling he was really hot, we took the temperature and noticed he had 39.3 degrees Celsius. Back home this would be of no concern to us but since we've just come back from Lamu, malaria infested area, where we despite insect repellent and mosquito nets got bitten every night, we thought we better check it quickly.
Children that age are much more vulnerable and in case of malaria, it is easier to treat it the earlier it is discovered. We had to call and wake the driver since he had taken our car home and we probably wouldn't have found our way to the hospital on our own in the middle of the night anyway. The poor fellow got there 20 minutes later and we took off. Nairobi is not known for being the safest place during night time, not only because one can get car jacked but more because people drive like mad and often after having had quite a few drinks. Only the night before 28 people were killed in a severe accident where a bus hit a truck at 1 am in the morning. Have a look at this terrifying photo and you'll know what I am talking about.
Nairobi bus crash
Luckily the roads where more or less empty but for a few cars and trucks. At nighttime, Nairobi looks surprisingly Western, it must be because one only sees the lit up buildings and petrol stations while the wooden shacks remains hidden in the dark.
We reached Nairobi hospital around 1.30 am and I suspected it to be packed with people but it was nearly empty. We signed Noah in then paid 1200 Ksh (12€) at another counter and were then showed into a room where we waited to be taken care of. The doctor, a young fellow turned out to be as friendly as the doctor we met on Lamu, in Sweden they are usually quite uninterested and stressed. Noah's temperature was taken and it was decided that a few test were needed to decide the cause of illness. I had to go to the counter again to pay another 2920 Ksh (29€) and was then given a voucher to bring to the lab, funny system that must be very time consuming especially during busy hours! Anyhow, the test were taken, Noah who knows exactly what people in white coats do, behaved very bravely, his mother again had to look in another direction when sticking a needle into his vein.
1 hour later, around 3 am we received the results, no malaria, what a relief! It turned out to be a "normal" infection and we could all happily go home and sleep.
Locally grown fruit and vegetables are really cheap and so are flowers. Beef filet has become or new "kenyansk falukorv" (a Swedish type of sausage)and we eat it frequently so that we'll get sick of it before moving back, in Sweden you just can't get fine meat that cheap. A liter of yogurt is about 1.4€, a 500g package of Kellogg's Cornflakes is 5€ - super expensive, I am not buying that again! Hold on it gets worse a package of Kraft's Philadelphia cream cheese is 7€, when my friend told me I thought she was kidding, by the time I got home to have a look at my receipt I was crying.
Now we also know the cost of going to the hospital, last night it was time to go and see a doctor again. Some time after midnight I felt something wasn't right with Noah because he was having a restless sleep, tossing and turning. I put my hand on his forehead feeling he was really hot, we took the temperature and noticed he had 39.3 degrees Celsius. Back home this would be of no concern to us but since we've just come back from Lamu, malaria infested area, where we despite insect repellent and mosquito nets got bitten every night, we thought we better check it quickly.
Children that age are much more vulnerable and in case of malaria, it is easier to treat it the earlier it is discovered. We had to call and wake the driver since he had taken our car home and we probably wouldn't have found our way to the hospital on our own in the middle of the night anyway. The poor fellow got there 20 minutes later and we took off. Nairobi is not known for being the safest place during night time, not only because one can get car jacked but more because people drive like mad and often after having had quite a few drinks. Only the night before 28 people were killed in a severe accident where a bus hit a truck at 1 am in the morning. Have a look at this terrifying photo and you'll know what I am talking about.
Nairobi bus crashLuckily the roads where more or less empty but for a few cars and trucks. At nighttime, Nairobi looks surprisingly Western, it must be because one only sees the lit up buildings and petrol stations while the wooden shacks remains hidden in the dark.
We reached Nairobi hospital around 1.30 am and I suspected it to be packed with people but it was nearly empty. We signed Noah in then paid 1200 Ksh (12€) at another counter and were then showed into a room where we waited to be taken care of. The doctor, a young fellow turned out to be as friendly as the doctor we met on Lamu, in Sweden they are usually quite uninterested and stressed. Noah's temperature was taken and it was decided that a few test were needed to decide the cause of illness. I had to go to the counter again to pay another 2920 Ksh (29€) and was then given a voucher to bring to the lab, funny system that must be very time consuming especially during busy hours! Anyhow, the test were taken, Noah who knows exactly what people in white coats do, behaved very bravely, his mother again had to look in another direction when sticking a needle into his vein.
1 hour later, around 3 am we received the results, no malaria, what a relief! It turned out to be a "normal" infection and we could all happily go home and sleep.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)