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.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
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.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Back in town
It was nice coming back to Nairobi where the temperature is just like a perfect Nordic summer day. Noah has started kindergarten and friends back home have asked - So what are you going to do with all your free time? Free time?? Noah starts kindergarten at 8.30 so we leave home 7.45 in the morning, it is not very far but traffic in the morning is more or less a chaos. The Mutatu drivers drive against the traffic to get through with no fear for their or anyone else's life. Sabua, our driver told me he used to drive the ambulance in Nairobi and I finally understood how he knows all the short cuts that he takes. I am really happy we have him because if comparing the time it takes to go to kindergarten between us and our neighbors leaving at the same time, we are always there first. Mind you we take a few dirt roads and it's sometimes a bit bumpy but we get to see many interesting things on our way.
Anyhow after leaving Noah I sometimes go back home which normally gets me there by 9.45 am. I then have to get ready at 11.45 to go and pick him up again at 12.30, they only offer half days and only 4 days per week. During the time left I try and do the luxurious expat wife things such as having breakfast and coffee :). (I hope you guys get the humorous undertone when I am rambling about)
Talking about time, two days ago Mats received his working visa, Hurray, it was about time! This means we can get serious about looking for a house. A friend of mine told me she looked at 50 houses before she found what she wanted, sigh, I have probably had a look at 20 already with varying standards. There seem to be 3 group of houses within the budget span we are looking at; 1. newly built houses with nice interior but with a tiny, tiny garden, 2. houses from the 70's or 80's with terrible interior and a fantastic large garden including pool and 3. newly built houses with nice interior, nice garden and pool but on the outskirts of Nairobi meaning lots of time spent in traffic. A nice 4 bedroom house with good Western standards cost about 2000 Euros per month in rent, so it is not cheap!
I have called many real estate agents here but they seem a bit lazy and they NEVER call you back so now I have included a little "reward" for the person who finds us a house that we'll move into, the Kenyan way, we'll see if that works better.
Now to a complete different matter, it's interesting how people here really believe in myths and rumors here, I then realize how hard it must be to educate people about HIV and things alike. For example our driver thought that in a cold climate, alcohol doesn't affect you in the same way and you can drink more without getting drunk.
(well I am sure this goes for some Northerners as well)
Our friend's driver told her about a certain mango that if you eat it you could catch malaria...
and lastly the ANZ leader Jacob Zuma said he showered after sex with an HIV-positive woman, thinking this would reduce his risk of being infected...
TIA - This Is Africa
Anyhow after leaving Noah I sometimes go back home which normally gets me there by 9.45 am. I then have to get ready at 11.45 to go and pick him up again at 12.30, they only offer half days and only 4 days per week. During the time left I try and do the luxurious expat wife things such as having breakfast and coffee :). (I hope you guys get the humorous undertone when I am rambling about)
Talking about time, two days ago Mats received his working visa, Hurray, it was about time! This means we can get serious about looking for a house. A friend of mine told me she looked at 50 houses before she found what she wanted, sigh, I have probably had a look at 20 already with varying standards. There seem to be 3 group of houses within the budget span we are looking at; 1. newly built houses with nice interior but with a tiny, tiny garden, 2. houses from the 70's or 80's with terrible interior and a fantastic large garden including pool and 3. newly built houses with nice interior, nice garden and pool but on the outskirts of Nairobi meaning lots of time spent in traffic. A nice 4 bedroom house with good Western standards cost about 2000 Euros per month in rent, so it is not cheap!
I have called many real estate agents here but they seem a bit lazy and they NEVER call you back so now I have included a little "reward" for the person who finds us a house that we'll move into, the Kenyan way, we'll see if that works better.
Now to a complete different matter, it's interesting how people here really believe in myths and rumors here, I then realize how hard it must be to educate people about HIV and things alike. For example our driver thought that in a cold climate, alcohol doesn't affect you in the same way and you can drink more without getting drunk.
(well I am sure this goes for some Northerners as well)
Our friend's driver told her about a certain mango that if you eat it you could catch malaria...
and lastly the ANZ leader Jacob Zuma said he showered after sex with an HIV-positive woman, thinking this would reduce his risk of being infected...
TIA - This Is Africa
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Sick as a dog
On our fifth night on Lamu, I was woken up by a terrifying sound, it was the sound of Mats throwing up (sorry to be so indiscreet), it was so violent that I thought he was about to die. That was the start of the rest of the vacation. First Mats got sick then myself and just when we thought Noah would make it, he got sick too. We all had caught some tummy bug and I tell you it wasn't pleasant! The only good thing that week was that we had moved up to the top suite with a large terrace and there we resided like in a house arrest for the remainder of the holiday.
The day before New Year's Eve I was feeling quite alright (after a few Imodium pills) and ordered food for the next day. Unfortunately I felt worse on New Year's Eve while Mats was feeling better and had two grilled lobsters and coconut prawns to himself while his other half was lying on the day bed trying not to puke by the mere thought of eating. We managed to stay awake to see the spectacular fireworks which came to a few little puffs and some sparkles, we couldn't help but being a bit amused.
On the day of leaving, Noah woke up but he was definitely not himself that morning. He was very tired and withdrawn and didn't reply when speaking to him. We got really worried and decided to call for one of two doctors working on Lamu, we caught him just before catching the boat to Shella, a lucky strike.
The doctor turned out to be a very pleasant Somalian man who seemed to know what he was doing, no witch doctor here. Poor little Noah was dehydrated and we felt like sucky parents since we hadn't managed to make him drink enough. The doctor comforted us saying that when small kids catch a tummy bug they get dehydrated very quickly. As soon as the crew of Subira House heard the news they all came running up to show their support, I got really stressed having everyone around and I asked them kindly to leave. Only later did Christina tell me that this is the way people here on Lamu show their support and I felt ashamed for having sent them away when they were being so sweet. Noah had to be put on a drip and I tell you it was not a nice thing watching them put a needle into the small veins on his hand. I actually had to look in another direction because I couldn't bare watching the whole thing and yes by the way they had to do it twice.
Anyhow, after a liter of fluid Noah's face had gotten the color back and he was smiling. We were all given medicine which we of course cross-checked with our health insurance company but everything was in order.
We flew back home later that afternoon and I was relieved the airplane was a little larger this time and the journey was quick and comfortable.
That was the end of that vacation.
The day before New Year's Eve I was feeling quite alright (after a few Imodium pills) and ordered food for the next day. Unfortunately I felt worse on New Year's Eve while Mats was feeling better and had two grilled lobsters and coconut prawns to himself while his other half was lying on the day bed trying not to puke by the mere thought of eating. We managed to stay awake to see the spectacular fireworks which came to a few little puffs and some sparkles, we couldn't help but being a bit amused.
On the day of leaving, Noah woke up but he was definitely not himself that morning. He was very tired and withdrawn and didn't reply when speaking to him. We got really worried and decided to call for one of two doctors working on Lamu, we caught him just before catching the boat to Shella, a lucky strike.
The doctor turned out to be a very pleasant Somalian man who seemed to know what he was doing, no witch doctor here. Poor little Noah was dehydrated and we felt like sucky parents since we hadn't managed to make him drink enough. The doctor comforted us saying that when small kids catch a tummy bug they get dehydrated very quickly. As soon as the crew of Subira House heard the news they all came running up to show their support, I got really stressed having everyone around and I asked them kindly to leave. Only later did Christina tell me that this is the way people here on Lamu show their support and I felt ashamed for having sent them away when they were being so sweet. Noah had to be put on a drip and I tell you it was not a nice thing watching them put a needle into the small veins on his hand. I actually had to look in another direction because I couldn't bare watching the whole thing and yes by the way they had to do it twice.
Anyhow, after a liter of fluid Noah's face had gotten the color back and he was smiling. We were all given medicine which we of course cross-checked with our health insurance company but everything was in order.
We flew back home later that afternoon and I was relieved the airplane was a little larger this time and the journey was quick and comfortable.
That was the end of that vacation.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Meeting a Masai in Lamu
The following day we couldn't go to the beach because someone had badly burnt legs and feet and needed to stay out of the sun, I won't mention any names. Do you know how bad it hurts to burn your feet? The morning was just spent relaxing and reading (we took turns running up and down the stairs with Noah) in one of the daybeds and in the afternoon we went out to explore the cool and shaded alleys of Lamu old town. Even if Lamu old town isn't very large it is easy to get lost in between all the dwindling lanes,imagine trying to find yourself home in the middle of the night. Fifteen years ago there was no electricity on Lamu and even today the lights goes out every now and again, especially during the festivities, it is therefore advisable to bring a torch if coming here. There is little crime here and even as a woman you can safely walk home by yourself in the middle of the pitch black night.
Behind every corner we discover a new restaurant, a hotel or a little furniture workshop. We stop to have dinner at one of the local restaurants by the water, it's very simple but clean and the food turns out to be excellent. When you wine and dine in Lamu you have to expect to wait quite some time for your order, they make everything from scratch here which is really nice when you think about it. I am not really sure what goes on in the Lamu kitchen and maybe I don't want to know either but the waiting is worthwhile.
The next day we hit the beach again and suddenly we catch sight of a Masai, dressed in his traditional red sarong, what the he..is a Masai doing in Lamu? It turns out that Nakkuieiu ( I have no idea how it's spelled) or Jackson which is his English name, stays in Lamu for about 6 months every year to do business. His business is selling beautiful Masai beaded jewellery to tourists like us, I bought a beautiful bracelet for myself and one for Mats.
Nakkuieiu's home is Amboseli, a Kenyan national parks that borders to Tanzania with great scenic beauty and a landscape dominated by Mount Kilimanjaro. He tells us he is 33 years old, he is married with 3 kids (one is newly born) and owns 12 cows. His English is not the best but he has a good sense of humor and when we ask where he stays in Lamu he points to the sand dunes. - I live there and when I see a muzungu (white people), I come forward, I yell and kill them with my stick and then I take their bags. When saying this he takes a step back not sure that we will understand that he is joking. Like most Masai his face is very beautiful and it's hard to take your eyes off him, he's got the circular tattoo on either side of his cheek. I read that this tattoo is made at a very early age in order to distract flies away from the eyes and towards the open wounds, it this is true I don't know. Nakkuieiu also has pierced and stretched ear lobes which are decorated with colorful beads.
We spend the rest of the afternoon talking to Nakkuieiu and then catch a boat back.
Behind every corner we discover a new restaurant, a hotel or a little furniture workshop. We stop to have dinner at one of the local restaurants by the water, it's very simple but clean and the food turns out to be excellent. When you wine and dine in Lamu you have to expect to wait quite some time for your order, they make everything from scratch here which is really nice when you think about it. I am not really sure what goes on in the Lamu kitchen and maybe I don't want to know either but the waiting is worthwhile.
The next day we hit the beach again and suddenly we catch sight of a Masai, dressed in his traditional red sarong, what the he..is a Masai doing in Lamu? It turns out that Nakkuieiu ( I have no idea how it's spelled) or Jackson which is his English name, stays in Lamu for about 6 months every year to do business. His business is selling beautiful Masai beaded jewellery to tourists like us, I bought a beautiful bracelet for myself and one for Mats.
Nakkuieiu's home is Amboseli, a Kenyan national parks that borders to Tanzania with great scenic beauty and a landscape dominated by Mount Kilimanjaro. He tells us he is 33 years old, he is married with 3 kids (one is newly born) and owns 12 cows. His English is not the best but he has a good sense of humor and when we ask where he stays in Lamu he points to the sand dunes. - I live there and when I see a muzungu (white people), I come forward, I yell and kill them with my stick and then I take their bags. When saying this he takes a step back not sure that we will understand that he is joking. Like most Masai his face is very beautiful and it's hard to take your eyes off him, he's got the circular tattoo on either side of his cheek. I read that this tattoo is made at a very early age in order to distract flies away from the eyes and towards the open wounds, it this is true I don't know. Nakkuieiu also has pierced and stretched ear lobes which are decorated with colorful beads.
We spend the rest of the afternoon talking to Nakkuieiu and then catch a boat back.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Beach bums
We were quite happy to kip in our rock hard beds that night.
Alllaaaah Akbahr! screamed the megaphone loudly at 5 o' clock the next morning and one could hear people's footsteps in the dark alleys, still no sign of daylight. For people getting up at that inhumanly early hour I guess it would be a safe wake up call, I bet the muezzin just got up to yell his prayer and then went straight back to bed. We woke up 2 hours later feeling refreshed and hungry for breakfast. The table was set with freshly pressed juice, fruit salad and yogurt, scrambled eggs and toast, jam, banana pancake and coffee with hot milk - yummy!
After breakfast we set off for Shella beach, it would take about 45 minutes to walk there but it would be difficult if not impossible to walk there with a pram so we went down to the jetty to find a boat. After some dealing we found a "slow boat", a dhow with a motor, that would take us there safely in about 15 minutes for the price of 500 Ksh ( 5 Euros). I am sure giving tourists lift back and forth to the beach is a quite lucrative side business for boat owners here.
As usual the quay was crowded with people and donkeys and we wonder how we will manage to get down to the boat since there are only steep cemented stairs leading down, however the locals turn out to be most helpful and before we know it Noah, the pram and ourselves are on our way. Apparently a recently introduced law require boat owners to supply life jackets on board so we both got dressed up in bright orange life jackets while Noah already had his own, now we really must have looked like dumb tourists! Never mind, we were out on the Indian Ocean and the sun was shining ( I will add photos asap I get hold of a bloody cable). The engine sounded like an old sewing machine and Noah was sitting on top of it, humming a song, we passed the shores of Lamu and as we came closer to Shella the houses grew larger and more elaborate but without feeling too touristy.
We were let off at the quay of the legendary Peponi Hotel which was first opened in 1967, it does not have any of the facilities or services of a posh hotel but nevertheless manages to attract 5-star guests. What Peponi has is plenty of personality, charm & delicious cocktails. It is rumored that Andreas Casiraghi, the handsome son of Princess Caroline of Monaco comes here to dance by the bar. If you aren't very interested in the celeb gossip I can tell you that the restaurant offers fresh oysters, tuna carpaccio, grilled fish, lobster in mango sauce, food that melts in your mouth while you are sipping on a glass of a chilled South African chardonnay.
We continue on to the beach, locals are watching us curiously, they have probably never seen anyone with a pram here before or at least not on the beach...The reason for bringing the pram was because there's no natural shade to hide from the sun and there sure are no sun chairs or parasols for rent either, even if someone could have made a fortune from it.
We found ourselves a nice little spot and plunged into the green water. The temperature of the Indian ocean is just perfect, along the shore it must easily have been around 30+ degrees I am not kidding! We got home later that afternoon feeling happily burnt and with sand enough to open up a smaller beach.... in our room.
Alllaaaah Akbahr! screamed the megaphone loudly at 5 o' clock the next morning and one could hear people's footsteps in the dark alleys, still no sign of daylight. For people getting up at that inhumanly early hour I guess it would be a safe wake up call, I bet the muezzin just got up to yell his prayer and then went straight back to bed. We woke up 2 hours later feeling refreshed and hungry for breakfast. The table was set with freshly pressed juice, fruit salad and yogurt, scrambled eggs and toast, jam, banana pancake and coffee with hot milk - yummy!
After breakfast we set off for Shella beach, it would take about 45 minutes to walk there but it would be difficult if not impossible to walk there with a pram so we went down to the jetty to find a boat. After some dealing we found a "slow boat", a dhow with a motor, that would take us there safely in about 15 minutes for the price of 500 Ksh ( 5 Euros). I am sure giving tourists lift back and forth to the beach is a quite lucrative side business for boat owners here.
As usual the quay was crowded with people and donkeys and we wonder how we will manage to get down to the boat since there are only steep cemented stairs leading down, however the locals turn out to be most helpful and before we know it Noah, the pram and ourselves are on our way. Apparently a recently introduced law require boat owners to supply life jackets on board so we both got dressed up in bright orange life jackets while Noah already had his own, now we really must have looked like dumb tourists! Never mind, we were out on the Indian Ocean and the sun was shining ( I will add photos asap I get hold of a bloody cable). The engine sounded like an old sewing machine and Noah was sitting on top of it, humming a song, we passed the shores of Lamu and as we came closer to Shella the houses grew larger and more elaborate but without feeling too touristy.
We were let off at the quay of the legendary Peponi Hotel which was first opened in 1967, it does not have any of the facilities or services of a posh hotel but nevertheless manages to attract 5-star guests. What Peponi has is plenty of personality, charm & delicious cocktails. It is rumored that Andreas Casiraghi, the handsome son of Princess Caroline of Monaco comes here to dance by the bar. If you aren't very interested in the celeb gossip I can tell you that the restaurant offers fresh oysters, tuna carpaccio, grilled fish, lobster in mango sauce, food that melts in your mouth while you are sipping on a glass of a chilled South African chardonnay.
We continue on to the beach, locals are watching us curiously, they have probably never seen anyone with a pram here before or at least not on the beach...The reason for bringing the pram was because there's no natural shade to hide from the sun and there sure are no sun chairs or parasols for rent either, even if someone could have made a fortune from it.
We found ourselves a nice little spot and plunged into the green water. The temperature of the Indian ocean is just perfect, along the shore it must easily have been around 30+ degrees I am not kidding! We got home later that afternoon feeling happily burnt and with sand enough to open up a smaller beach.... in our room.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Lamu a different kind of paradise
Since our last driving adventure turned out to be a bit bumpy flying to Lamu seemed to the better choice. I've seen a photo of the airstrip of Lamu and it's nothing more than a sandy stretch in between the mangroves and the ocean so I already knew we would not fly a jumbo there, not even one of the smaller jet planes could land there. It turned out to be a 12 seated propeller plane plus the pilot. I´ve never been a real fan of flying so I felt rather brave climbing on board. No safety instructions hmm, I then remembered a story told by a friend of mine who once flew on a small plane in Norway. The air hostess -at least they had room for one, started the safety instructions and half way through she said, of fuck it, if we go down, we go down, very reassuring.
The ascending was rather shaky and I felt nervous for a while, Noah fell asleep almost at once, little cool guy that he is. Once we were up among the clouds I couldn't complain, it was a rather smooth journey and felt a bit like sailing. When we were about to land, there were some really strong wind so we didn't float over the airport or airstrip like one normally would, we flew down so to speak. Imagine sailing a large boat into port during storm, well I guess it would be something similar to that. However it did not last long and I was happy we had reached our near destination
(I tried not to think about the journey back), I wiped my slightly moist palms, got out of the plane and tried to look cool. An instant almost unexpected heat welcomed us.
Lamu is a different kind of paradise, a little island in the Indian Ocean just off the Kenyan coast. The history tells about a wealthy trading port busy with merchants, sultans and their slaves tracing some 600 years back in time. The dwindling alleys, coral and limestone houses comprises the oldest and best preserved East African Swahili settlement, now part of the UNESCO World heritage. Even today the island attracts noble visitors such as princess Caroline of Monaco, Mick Jagger and so forth and it is not hard to understand why, here they can be totally undisturbed, no paparazzi, empty sun kissed beaches, the warm Indian Ocean and delicious seafood. However I am quite sure the celebrities don't stay in Lamu town, more likely at one of the 5-star hotels located on a secluded beach.
In order to get to Lamu we had to cross the straight by boat, you could actually see the town from the opposite side. The jetty was already full of people waiting to cross, most of them were not tourists or at least they didn't look like tourists to me. The warm breeze was a blessing to our warm bodies, we tried to hold on to Noah in the pram, the jetty had large gaps of missing wood but with some effort we managed to get both our bags, our son, now dressed in a bright yellow life west on board a boat. It would cost us 400 Ksh to cross, an equivalent of 4 Euros.
As we are approaching the quay children are jumping in and out of the water giggling and screaming with joy while women are piercing at us through their black bui bui's. Lamu is a Muslim society and one is likely to see veiled women and men dressed in the traditional kanzu. Our hostess later tells me that this is indeed a Muslim society but not an overly strict one, for a Westerner the bui bui may seem strict but we do not know what goes on underneath.. Everywhere we are greeted with a smile and a - Karibu (welcome) and it seems rather genuine. I have to admit though that we were a little shocked by the ruralness of Lamu, I mean we did know that there were no cars here except from one 3-wheeled ambulance and a Landrover and that donkeys were the public transport but I suppose we were still in a Swedish state of mind, expecting neat and cleanliness.
This is not some typical holiday resort built to cater for the needs of tourists, this is Lamu, real and raw and far more interesting. We follow our porter through the narrow alley ways, trying not to step in donkey poo oh well sooner or later we will but in the meantime I would like to remain clean thank you! Most alley ways are only 1 to 2 meters wide and one quickly has to find a door way to hide in while donkeys pass with their heavy load and believe me they come at full speed. The town is about 10 alleyways wide and dates back to the 14th century, apparently some 40 houses are interconnected by upstairs passages so Muslim women in those days didn't have to leave the houses, sounds a bit like prison to me but maybe it was convenient.
We stop in front of a large carved wooden door, just behind Lamu fort, this is the entrance to Subira House, formerly a house owned by the governor of the Sultan built about 200 years ago, now a restored and beautifully renovated B&B run by a Swedish couple. Stepping inside is like entering another world, walking around town you wouldn't even know these oasis existed but behind a wooden door lies many secrets. We step into a beautiful courtyard, the center of the whole house, with two floors built around and above it. We take our shoes off and feel the smooth, warm limestone floor under our feet, we climb the stairs with exceptionally high steps to the first floor looking over another open courtyard with a small garden of flowers, a frangipani tree and pink bourganvillas hanging down from the roof. The first floor has 4 rooms all beautifully decorated in swahili style with four poster wooden beds, small tables with inlayed pottery and outside on the terraces you can relax in one of the daybeds decorated with colorful fabrics and pillows. The architecture and beautiful design of these swahili houses allows for a social lifestyle yet in privacy. All the open spaces and terraces lets the ocean breeze cool the interior and its inhabitants. Late in the evening the floor is still warm from the strong Kenyan sun, Lamu is situated only two degrees south of the equator.
To be continued...
The ascending was rather shaky and I felt nervous for a while, Noah fell asleep almost at once, little cool guy that he is. Once we were up among the clouds I couldn't complain, it was a rather smooth journey and felt a bit like sailing. When we were about to land, there were some really strong wind so we didn't float over the airport or airstrip like one normally would, we flew down so to speak. Imagine sailing a large boat into port during storm, well I guess it would be something similar to that. However it did not last long and I was happy we had reached our near destination
(I tried not to think about the journey back), I wiped my slightly moist palms, got out of the plane and tried to look cool. An instant almost unexpected heat welcomed us.
Lamu is a different kind of paradise, a little island in the Indian Ocean just off the Kenyan coast. The history tells about a wealthy trading port busy with merchants, sultans and their slaves tracing some 600 years back in time. The dwindling alleys, coral and limestone houses comprises the oldest and best preserved East African Swahili settlement, now part of the UNESCO World heritage. Even today the island attracts noble visitors such as princess Caroline of Monaco, Mick Jagger and so forth and it is not hard to understand why, here they can be totally undisturbed, no paparazzi, empty sun kissed beaches, the warm Indian Ocean and delicious seafood. However I am quite sure the celebrities don't stay in Lamu town, more likely at one of the 5-star hotels located on a secluded beach.
In order to get to Lamu we had to cross the straight by boat, you could actually see the town from the opposite side. The jetty was already full of people waiting to cross, most of them were not tourists or at least they didn't look like tourists to me. The warm breeze was a blessing to our warm bodies, we tried to hold on to Noah in the pram, the jetty had large gaps of missing wood but with some effort we managed to get both our bags, our son, now dressed in a bright yellow life west on board a boat. It would cost us 400 Ksh to cross, an equivalent of 4 Euros.
As we are approaching the quay children are jumping in and out of the water giggling and screaming with joy while women are piercing at us through their black bui bui's. Lamu is a Muslim society and one is likely to see veiled women and men dressed in the traditional kanzu. Our hostess later tells me that this is indeed a Muslim society but not an overly strict one, for a Westerner the bui bui may seem strict but we do not know what goes on underneath.. Everywhere we are greeted with a smile and a - Karibu (welcome) and it seems rather genuine. I have to admit though that we were a little shocked by the ruralness of Lamu, I mean we did know that there were no cars here except from one 3-wheeled ambulance and a Landrover and that donkeys were the public transport but I suppose we were still in a Swedish state of mind, expecting neat and cleanliness.
This is not some typical holiday resort built to cater for the needs of tourists, this is Lamu, real and raw and far more interesting. We follow our porter through the narrow alley ways, trying not to step in donkey poo oh well sooner or later we will but in the meantime I would like to remain clean thank you! Most alley ways are only 1 to 2 meters wide and one quickly has to find a door way to hide in while donkeys pass with their heavy load and believe me they come at full speed. The town is about 10 alleyways wide and dates back to the 14th century, apparently some 40 houses are interconnected by upstairs passages so Muslim women in those days didn't have to leave the houses, sounds a bit like prison to me but maybe it was convenient.
We stop in front of a large carved wooden door, just behind Lamu fort, this is the entrance to Subira House, formerly a house owned by the governor of the Sultan built about 200 years ago, now a restored and beautifully renovated B&B run by a Swedish couple. Stepping inside is like entering another world, walking around town you wouldn't even know these oasis existed but behind a wooden door lies many secrets. We step into a beautiful courtyard, the center of the whole house, with two floors built around and above it. We take our shoes off and feel the smooth, warm limestone floor under our feet, we climb the stairs with exceptionally high steps to the first floor looking over another open courtyard with a small garden of flowers, a frangipani tree and pink bourganvillas hanging down from the roof. The first floor has 4 rooms all beautifully decorated in swahili style with four poster wooden beds, small tables with inlayed pottery and outside on the terraces you can relax in one of the daybeds decorated with colorful fabrics and pillows. The architecture and beautiful design of these swahili houses allows for a social lifestyle yet in privacy. All the open spaces and terraces lets the ocean breeze cool the interior and its inhabitants. Late in the evening the floor is still warm from the strong Kenyan sun, Lamu is situated only two degrees south of the equator.
To be continued...
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