5 Yankee – November November Echo This sweet code will remain in my memory for a long time.
I have been dreaming of flying for a long time. Probably like a big percentage of humans. Today, I took the first step. When I landed in Nairobi from Diani a couple of days ago, I found few flight schools around the airport. So I knocked on their doors and asked if they could organize a test flight for me. I wanted to know how I would feel on a plane before I invest the time and the thousands of dollars needed. 99Flying was the name of the school, and Presley was my contact person. He, himself, was a student pilot who works in the school to finance his learning costs. I liked Presley’s attitude. He kept saying: “Whatever it takes to get my dream. Money is just paper the government is printing. We will shake it, man”.
A student on a simulator
Looks like a more sophisticated simulator
I have already arranged the date and time. They were waiting for me. My instructor is a young, funny guy called Rodriguez! His father liked football so much and named him after some player in the 90s. So, here we are. Rodriquez and I in the one-engine, 30 years old airplane called 5Y-NNE, 5 Yankee November November Echo. Each of us has a headset and is ready to flyyyy.
Before taking off
Rodriguez started by making a thorough check of the gear, communicating with the tower, and asking permission to take off. One of the most exciting things about today is listening to the whole thing in my headset. I felt like a badass going to save the world. Rodriguez was sitting comfortably as if he were sitting in an old Mercedes. The take-off was smooth. The tower asked us to fly 6200 feet high. We headed in a straight line to the “visual landmark” which is a big building with a red roof. There we communicated again with the tower and turned to another visual landmark, a bridge, in each step, Rodrigue`z communicates with “someone” saying the sweet, 5 Yankee, November November Echo.
Taking off
The dashboard
Rodriguez explaining things
The view from my seat
He explained to me the dashboard, the steering of the airplane, how to use the GPS, and also the landscape that we saw. It was all surreal for me. Our direction was the Kilimanjaro mountain. Some people like to climb mountains. I am too lazy for that. A few years ago, I flew around Mount Everest in a small touristic plane, and now I wanted to do the same with Kilimanjaro. We were now out of the control zone. So we announced our progress on an “unmanned frequency”. We started to see the silhouette of the Kilimanjaro, but also the clouds that covered its peak. My initial agreement with Rodrigues was to fly till we see the mountain, then we head back. So, since we realized we will not see more of it because of the cloud, we turned and started heading back.
First flying lesson with Rodriguez
Kilimanjaro expectation
Kilimanjaro reality
Landing
There were some moments of pure happiness on this trip, and this was definitely one of them. Happiness, joy, excitement, or fulfillment, probably a mixture of all this. Sometimes I think languages are unfair and insufficient to describe the scope of human feelings and experiences. I have decided to pursue this path in the near future.
Rodriguez with the “beast” of 180 horsepower
After my flying experience, I went to meet Theo in the afternoon for dinner. I waited for him in “Que Pasa bar”. He was more than half an hour late, but one thing I have practiced in Kenya is “No hurry in Africa”. His excuse was “Sorry, I was cooking. I slaughtered a rabbit yesterday and I wanted to try this Italian recipe while it is fresh”. I was entertained! We chatted for a couple of hours about my experience in Kenya and the contrasts with Europe. Theo’s family lives in London now, and he has been to a few parts of Europe before. What I noticed is that strangers could join tables even if they had other people, “This is how you make friends”, said Theo.
I retreated early to the hotel to relax and contemplate my trip. Tomorrow, Saturday, I fly back to Zürich full of renewed energy and new resolutions.
Theo, the psychiatrist my new friend, promised to take me to Kenyatta hospital for a tour. It is the biggest national and university hospital in Kenya. He is not on duty there, but he had a few errands to run. One of them was to see the MRI scans of a patient he saw two days ago. The patient was referred to him because of a speech disorder and walking difficulty. Theo noticed also some rigidity in his right arm, and therefore he sent him for an MRI. We met the daughter and Theo showed me the printed scans that showed clearly bilateral Subdural hematoma, a medical emergency. We took the scans to the radiologists and asked the daughter to bring the patient for further procedures.
Theo then took me to the neurology ward to see if I can join the morning round, but it was over already. They said I can join them tomorrow 8:30. I borrowed a lab coat from Theo, and we separated to meet tomorrow for dinner.
The rest of that day was relaxed. I went for the COVID-PCR test, which surprisingly came out negative, I spent a couple of hours wandering around the city and in the hotel gym.
The following day, I showed up on the ward at 8:30. I found the residents diving in the patients’ files, and I asked if I could join the rounds. I joined the “handover” where the night shift doctor was discussing the patients that were admitted to the ward at night with the ones on duty during the day. The first surprise for me was that the night shift was carried out by an intern alone! The intern looked at me with some sorrow in her eye and said, “I am just an intern”. Theo told me, later, that he had to perform multiple cesarean sections in one night as an intern in some rural hospitals. I listened to the handover. Thorough and competent. My impression, in general, was that the colleagues there were competent and well-educated.
After checking all the new patients and organizing the transfer to proper departments, we went to see the neurological patients. A wide scope of diseases, that I was surprised it could be diagnosed here given the scarce resources. Especially for my medical readers: half of the ward was occupied by HIV-positive patients that had cryptococcal meningitis or toxoplasmosis due to their immunosuppression. Some Strokes, some bleedings, a GBS, a PML with HIV. Tough cases. A few of the cases have refused further medical diagnostics and treatment because they can not afford them. We passed by a patient while having a generalized epileptic seizure. Unfortunately, the hospital does not have an EEG. They have to send the patients to another hospital for EEGs. There is one MRI in the hospital and is obviously completely booked. These conditions make it hard for doctors to do their job and also to advance their knowledge. Sometimes they would wish to know how the MRI of this or that patient looks like, but they can’t because the patient can’t afford it.
Needless to mention, the conditions of the hospital. I promised Theo that I won’t take pictures. However, what can I say? very sick patients beside each other, each bed has a plastic washtub underneath, that the patients use as a toilet. You can imagine the smell of the ward. I refer you to one link that has a photo of a ward here.
After discussing the cases, I thanked my colleagues and wished them all the best. In this place of hope and frustration, holding the post and doing this job is something I respected. I was also thankful for where I work in Switzerland. I think I will approach my daily routine differently when I go back to my daily life.
I left the hospital for my next adventure that day; to which I will dedicate the next post.
A young German gentleman called Helmuth once booked a one-way flight to Cairo. After a couple of days, he traveled up the Nile across to Sudan, following the river further to Uganda. He slept on huge floating ships that served as markets, buying goods from villages and selling them along the river banks back and forth. Helmuth decided it would be nice to come work a bit in East Africa. Since he was in a pharmaceutical branch, he got a job managing the medicine supply chain. A contract after contract, years have passed until he retired with his dutch wife in Kenya. After retirement, he decided to follow another passion of his and be involved in the art scene. He hosts art exhibitions in an art gallery in his house. I stated “You have contributed to the evolution of Nairobi” he smiled: “of Africa”.
Earlier today, I woke up in West Wood hotel which is on the verge of the forest. They even have a forest view deck where you can observe the monkeys that naturally live there. Since the Breakfast buffet is in the yard, monkeys try to snatch the fruits here and there. Which I have observed as soon as I emerged for breakfast. I decided that today I want to explore the art scene in Nairobi. I am a humble collector of paintings and chess sets from my travels.
You know my trick, I use dating apps to meet interesting ladies for nice conversations. I matched with an intriguing lady nicknamed “Firefly“. I sent her the link to my blog, and you know what? She informs me that she started reading “The Forty Rules of Love” one week ago. What are the odds? I asked her for a recommendation for local art galleries and come to know that she is an artist herself. She recommended the Red Hill Art Gallery. I called Helmuth, the curator, which told me that they are preparing a new exhibition that will start on Sunday. A pity, I won’t be in Kenya by then. I told Firefly that. A few minutes later I got a call from Helmuth that I can visit the gallery today if I want as an exception. Firefly has asked him.
After a long Uber ride, I arrived at the Red Hill Art Gallery. Helmuth welcomed me in his garden between his house and the medium annex that serves as the art gallery. He prepared coffee and cookies, and we spent a couple of hours conversing. I started by touring the upcoming exhibition by an 80 years old British-Kenyan dancer that decided to resume painting two years ago. It is her first exhibition! I give a lot of respect to those who decide to take a new path in life, not to mention in such an old age. She hired one dancer as a model and painted him in different choreography moments. I thought it takes a lot of talent and bravery to depict the human body during these movements. The artist risks painting the wrong muscle anatomy. I thought she did a good job.
The Exhibition in the Red Hill Art Gallery
We had a long conversation. Helmuth told me a brief biography, including his experience in the healthcare field in Africa. We discussed the healthcare problems in Kenya in particular. He also told me a lot about the art scene. He then showed me his private art collection, as well as a tour of his house, which was studded with beautiful artifacts and artworks. During these minutes, I felt my heart racing and my happiness spike. I decided to dedicate more time to this passion of mine.
Abstract Depiction of the KiberaHelmuth showing my some of his private collectionHelmuth, the coffee and the cookies.
Earlier that day, I was strolling in one of the many shopping malls in Nairobi. It seems a feature of hot countries to have shopping malls as a way to avoid the heat. There I also encountered an exhibition of some local artists in some abandoned space in the mall without any sign of human life. Here are the most interesting paintings I found. I have contacted the artist for the prices and each was around 150 euros.
I also found this epic painting of the last supper but in Movember, hehe
I headed to my last breakfast in this hotel. There I observed the other guests: two Italian families with adults and a few mixed couples. This is a frequent scene in Diani, mostly older white people 👴🏻 coupled with younger black ones 👩🏿 . Somehow, when I see a single white man somewhere in the city, I think that he might be a fugitive. In general, Diani is a good place to disappear if you are internationally wanted by the Interpol.
I checked out and headed to the supermarket 🛒 to get come aloe vera to heal my burnt 🔥 skin. Unfortunately, there is no cream for the wounds of the heart 💔. Maybe only cream brûlée 😂😂😂.
Since the coffee in the hotel was the usual bad (horse piss 🐎 as my brother says, or aqua sporca as Andrea says), I decided to go for a decent cappuccino ☕️. However, Café Apero apologized to me because they had no electricity ⚡️ at the moment. I don’t remember having experienced this before, but I was also not surprised.
The zebra is eating fire and the lion is surprised
I took a small plane from Ukunda airport to Nairobi. This might be the second-smallest airport 🛫 I have been to, after that in one of the Galápagos Islands 🇪🇨 🏝️. We landed gracefully in the smaller Airport in Nairobi. I spontaneously visited some offices to inquire about some new adventure I am planning. Then headed to “Nairoby street kitchen” which I chose just because of the name! When I entered, I was welcomed by a modern and smart-looking young lady that explained the concept. It was a big hanger with many well-designed stalls, trucks, or vibe-full cafés. I was somehow euphoric by the modern design and the creativity. I love to see this in Africa 🌍 . There were also paintings displayed there for sale by local artists 🎨 . I wished I were a bit richer at that moment. I went to some stall and ordered tasty chicken wings 🐔 , as well as cassava roots (called Mhogo). I also found a huge bar on the rooftop with a big screen 🎦.
The African cup of nations ⚽ started two days ago. I have squeezed a couple of games in my not-at-all busy schedule, but today Egypt 🇪🇬 plays against Nigeria 🇳🇬 . I thought it would be cool to watch it with some Egyptians, so I tried to call the embassy in Nairobi. However, all the phone ☎️ numbers were out of service! This also didn’t surprise me! I decided to watch it in the rooftop bar. In that game, Egypt lost and I was sad/grumpy. The team’s performance was miserable. Maybe it is better I didn’t watch in a group after all.
P.S.: using emojis in this post was inspired by Cäcilia. I will probably not do it again 😀
I read the above words on the beach in the morning and decided to go for a beach walk. It was after breakfast around 10 am. Since I didn’t find sun cream, I have bought a hydrating cream from the supermarket. I creamed my skin and thought: there are two possibilities; one is that this cream will protect my skin if it prevents the sun rays. The other possibility, it might contain some oil that will absorb more heat and make my skin worse. My bet was the first theory. During the walk, I was approached by numerous locals who want to sell me “anything”. Coconuts, souvenirs, safaris, water sports. “aaaahh.. brotherrr from another motherrrr, where are you frrrrom?” I enjoyed the small talk and the jokes. Some of them talked only till they found out that I am not a good client. One guy just rotated around his axis and walked away in the middle of the conversation. Bakari, though, said he would walk with me and just chat anyway. He told me he gets to know tourists and makes friendships with the regular ones. He is told me about his devout friend Rashid, a Moroccan in France who sells drugs and Heroin there and comes twice a year for holidays in Diani. I found that entertaining. He told me how he cares about sending his children to Madrasa, a school for learning religion. At some point, under the mighty African sun, I started to feel the burrrn. He also noticed it and said “brother, you need aloe vera”. He ran in one direction and brought aloe vera leaves and cut them open where a moist gel was inside. I wiped my skin with it. I realized that my theory about the hydrating cream was wrong and that I am starting to cook like a properly marinated and seasoned chicken, well or a lion, hehe. I commissioned Bakari to make me a bottle of aloe vera while I get some money to support him and his family. He got many leaves and sat on the beach extracting the aloe vera into an old miserable-looking bottle. I found it a pleasant coincidence to see the spiky aloe vera leaves, from which we were extracting medicine. Just like the quote above. We agreed, he would take me on a tour of his village and I would like to check the local mosque in the village.
Around 3 pm, we walked to the village for around 15 minutes. I think this has accounted for more of my cooking time, which I realized later in the evening. We walked through some fields until the humble houses started to appear. This reminded me of the Kibera, the slums, except that the houses were dispersed and seemed to be spacey. No electricity or water infrastructure, though. The families there, which were mainly the women and the children, were lying on the ground outside getting their siestas. Some houses were made of metal and some were made of mud. The mosque was built out of concrete and had some water infrastructure, which was not working because the pump needs electricity, and they don’t have electricity in the village! I asked Bakari to take me back to the beach. He wanted to take me to his house, but I have seen enough. Already now, every time I meet someone here, I wonder if they live in slums. I wanted to go back to my luxury and to aloe vera.
A photo of aloe vera (from the internet)
For the evening, I joined Keisha and Hasani for dinner and a bit of music. However, the party was kind of ruined since we got the news that one member of the previous party a few days ago tested COVID-positive. Shit! I went back to the hotel. There, there was a game room with table tennis and billiards. I found a girl who works there, playing against some smart-looking African young guys. I came to know that they were from Rwanda. It was a pleasant time before I retreat to the bed.
The next day I was mostly indoors. I kind of wanted to isolate myself in case of COVID, I wanted to avoid the sun, and I was doing some remote working for my research. I now understand the feeling of home-office, which is not necessarily a bad thing if you can also be doing it on the beach somewhere else in the world.
Diani was some little paradise and I loved my time here. But now I was saturated with the sun, the ocean, and the sand. I decided it is time to leave the coast side and booked a flight for tomorrow to Nairobi.
My trip to Diani, a little beach town on the southern coast of Kenya, was a one-hour Matatu ride. This ride was studded with observations that are followed by a usual question: why? Why is this cow here? Why is this guy collecting dirty draining water in a bucket? I saw so many wonders that I don’t know how to document here. Seeing Africa or India or countries with some significant amount of Chaos is something that can’t be replaced by stories.
I headed to the backpacker’s lodge called “Stilts”, which is located in the forest. As soon as I entered, I started seeing black-and-white colobus monkeys everywhere. They looked elegant and were around the whole place. I have initially booked a tent (see photo below) as a new experience for me. I have camped in my youth several times in the desert. Camping in a forest is novel to me. Jenny at the reception welcomed me and in the process asked me if I was “sure about the tent”? They also have tree houses. They showed me both options. While I was making the tour, I heard snakes. “Bakari, are these snakes?”, “yes, but they are the green ones, they are not dangerous”. Given the circumstances, I opted for a treehouse. Back to the reception where Jenny said “you don’t look like a tent person”. This is true. Not in a forest where all these animals can play tag with me. Well, I also discovered later, that the green snake is called the “eastern green mamba” and has a rapid-acting venom.
I would have slept there (Photo from booking.com)
but I slept here (Photo from booking.com)
because I was afraid of this guy (photo: wikipedia)
Colobus Monkey in the forest (photo from internet)
I took this photo
I spent the afternoon at the beach, mainly reading and interacting with the locals. I got twice the same comment that they were happy I was talking to them like a friend since many white guys completely ignore them. To be honest, I also understand the white guys. If you are asked 10 times in 100 meters if you want to buy coconut or souvenirs, you would also not be nice all the time. However, I spent around one-hour bargaining with Frank on the price of a coconut. Frank knew I wouldn’t buy it, I knew I wouldn’t. But I got the feeling that people here appreciate good fun.
At 7 pm daily, the Stilts backpackers feed bushbabies (Galago). What are these? They are some weird nocturnal animals, that have super-cute big eyes. They come every day at 7 pm for their usual meal, which are some bananas offered by the hostel and its guests. This was one of the cutest things I saw in a few years. However, we came to know that they pee on their hands. I am happy I didn’t touch them!
Photo from Facebook by @tbt.studios
The night continued with me getting in touch with Hasani and Keisha, which I met in Nairobi. They told me about some beach party in the Soul Breeze Resort. I arrived earlier than them and was approached by Luciana, I think she was a prostitute. She asked to sit with me, gave me a couple of compliments and asked where I was staying. I said, “in a treehouse”. Do you want to show it to me later? I said “no”. After she was leading the conversation like a green mamba, I interrupted her stating that I was uncomfortable with this conversation and that she had to leave my table. I was soon rescued by Hasani and Keisha.
There we had dinner and bounced on the tunes of Afrobeats and came to meet more and more friends. After the party, we moved to another hostel for an extended party, where Hasani and I were literally the last men standing at 3:30 am. I think Afrobeats is included in my DNA.
During this night, I had the pleasure to encounter Theo, a Kenyan psychiatry resident on holiday, showing Diani to his visiting Nephew. Once Theo knew about me being a neurologist, we had a looooong conversation about the human brain and what makes us human. This was Theo’s specific question, actually. This very interesting conversation extended to free will, consciousness, and divinity. As Theo says: “choose a delusion and stick to it”. Theo told me about the difficulties of the healthcare system in Kenya. There are in total around 4000 doctors in the country, which is 1 doctor per 10,000 people! Just for comparison, Switzerland has 40 doctors per 10,000 people. We exchanged contacts, and hopefully, we will meet again in Nairobi before I leave Kenya.
The next day I left the Stilts backpackers to a 5-stars resort :D, I know I combine contradictions in my traveling as I do in life in general. But for me, everything makes sense. I spent Saturday as another beach day. Probably the highlight was playing a beach football game with some local tribesmen mixed with a few tourists. We agreed to meet again tomorrow.
When I landed in Mombasa, I was warmly welcomed by many taxi drivers offering to take me to the hotel. I flashed the Uber price in their faces, 1000 shillings. They wanted 1800. Just before I ordered the Uber, one guy named Nickolas accepted 1000. He wanted to call it a night after this ride. The first part of the 18 km drive was silent. For some reason, unknown even to me, I asked Nickolas what was the most important thing in life! He immediately said: “relationship to God”. He elaborated by telling a story about that rich, famous, and proud politician who used to brag all the time until he got cancer and was whining with regret in his last moments. I tipped Nickolas generously, and he smiled a unique smile that was not about the money, but rather “destiny, again”. His smile put me in a good mood for the evening.
Bahari Beach Hotel is a kind of a beach-front resort. I slept bad and woke up around 7 am to have breakfast facing the ocean and the palm trees that decorated the view. What made palm trees a sign of relaxation and holidays? It is conditioning. Where I grew up, in the Arabian desert, we had a lot of palm trees and no water. I think I started having this connection when I moved to Europe.
I spent the day completely inside the hotel. I always thought that such an activity would be boring for me, well it wasn’t at all. I started with 2 hours working out in the gym, then I went to relax on the swimming pool reading and playing online chess. At some point came to me a tall, strong lady and offered a massage for a good price. She had such power in her elbows that dissolved some knots in my back muscles. Feeling completely tired but hopeful for a better mobility, I went back to the pool side.
Some minutes later, Bella the DJ approached me and asked if I want to play ping pong. Her job was to mobilise the lazy guests, hehe. I challenged her and told her to drink two glasses of water as a reservoir for all the tears that she will shed after losing. We played a couple of games as well as billiards. Bella gave up. Then there was the dinner buffet and a dance-show by some Masai tribe. Here is a 30 seconds video that won’t add much to your life but shows the ambiance with Bella.
The resort had a few customers, the majority are German couples. Some are younger with children. Most of the time I chatted with the waiters and the hotel staff. I love the people here. The vast majority are friendly and happy people. This might be one of the friendliest destinations in all my travels. You know, there is the friendliness of the customer-support guy that is bound by your transaction. Friendliness here seems different and more sincere. I observed the people in the street while riding the taxi. The ratio of people smiling or laughing is far higher than any place I have been to in Europe. This made me question many things. Well, I like living in Europe, but people here don’t seem to mind the hard conditions very much. I have been to Tanzania and had similar impressions, but not to this extent. I am eager to visit other African countries to know more.
The next day I checked out after another lovely breakfast. I took an Uber to Mombasa downtown to stop in a supermarket and get some sun cream. This might have been the first time in my life to buy one. It was not.. since they didn’t have it. I asked a lady working there, and it took her a couple of seconds to process what that was. Still they didn’t have it. I thought, well I will just buy any creams. What did humans do before sun creams?
I have finally captured this big booty
Mombasa was a busy city that shows a clear presence of the Muslims. It is Friday. Through my passing by, I heard multiple sellers reciting Quran while waiting on their goods. Even one blind guy was reading a Braille version of the Quran loudly. I think maybe he was a beggar. What also caught my attention was the many beautiful graffities about COVID. Later I googled this to discover that this was supported by the government. I post a couple here and leave you with a link that shows the rest of the graffities..
One very important thing that Africa represents for me is dancing. Therefore, I was determined to add a dance lesson to my experiences. Yesterday, I googled and contacted a music and dance school called “Kamata”. They kindly agreed to arrange a private Afro-Dance lesson for me today. So, after a good breakfast in ArtCaffe (the coffee there is just great), I headed to Kamata school. There was Kevin, my dance instructor waiting for me. We walked together to a nearby gym where we kicked off our dancing lesson. Kevin decided we are going to practice a choreography based on a Nigerian song called Dancina.
Artcaffe
We started right away, and I felt all the endorphins shooting in my arteries. At times, I felt out of shape and inflexible compared to Kevin, who is a professional dancer. I should not be too hard on myself! Move after move, I managed to learn something that I could practice back home. It was great fun. I will definitely add this activity to any travel I plan in the future. I leave you with the end result. Like everyone, I feel a bit embarrassed about the video. Sometimes out of rhythm, sometimes forgot the steps. But who cares, right 😀 ?
and here is a video from Kevin’s dance crew
With Kevin, my dance instructor
After the lesson, I headed to Pallet café where I met Eva, a Kenyan girl who lives and works as a consultant in a famous company in Munich. Currently, she is on holiday visiting her family. We had a nice conversation about Nairobi and Kenya, as well as the contrasts between Kenya and Europe. Eva thinks that one day, she will go back to Kenya. I also mentioned to her my experience in the Kibera slums. She, too, thinks that despite the bad living conditions, the people there are happy and satisfied. The Pallet café hires only deaf waiters. So, to order your food or drinks, you need to point at items in the menu or use sign language. I remembered a KFC branch in Cairo employing the same concept.
Enough Nairobi for now. I haven’t done almost any of the top To-Do’s for tourists but I have experienced something for now. I decided to go to Mombasa, either a 1.5 flight or a 5 hours train ride. I knew I wouldn’t manage it on time to the train station, so I went to the airport and booked the flight in the Uber. Only 37 swiss francs. I found it funny that the airline is called 540. That’s right, just a number. What is nicer is that the flight is scheduled at 5:40 pm :D. However, the flight was delayed. Since there were no announcements in the airport, I went to inquire at the gate and found the pilot chilling in a chair. He told me that we are waiting for the plane to arrive. I asked about the estimated time. He said, “Don’t worry man, I am heeeere! relax, Hakuna Matata!” I thought that is the kind of pilot I want.
The plane to Mombasa
Interestingly, there was no life-jacket on board. Instead, in case of emergency, one should use the seat cushion, hug it and jump in the water. I found the safety information card funnily showing a smiling black woman hugging a seat cushion. This probably represents the laid back African mentality. “Emergency landing? No Problem. Hakuna Matata”.
I landed in Mombasa and took a taxi to a nice beach hotel where I will spend two days enjoying a relative luxury. But, you never know how life events unfold!
I started the day by wondering, “what will I do today? and what will I do with this haircut?” After some research, I decided to start the day with breakfast in an Eritrean roastery, and after no thinking, I decided to randomly spread some gel on my hair and not care. The waitress in the Eritrean roastery took my order and said “ooh I like your hair!”. I said: “whaatttt??? I thought it is horrible” she said: “No, it makes you cuter”. This made me smile. Who doesn’t like a little ego-boost in the morning?
I don’t know why they served me popcorn in the morning with my Eritrean coffee
Today I planned to tour the Kibera slums. Internet-how I reached the contact of Winnie, a tourist guide that was born and raised in the slums and would take me for a tour there. I was the only tourist, so it was a private tour. What I saw today will remain vivid in my memory till the day I say Adios.
We started walking through a street market that sold second-hand clothes that were donated from other countries. The sellers go to buy these from the government, wash them, make them presentable and sell them in the market. Winnie told me that this part of the market was too expensive for the slum’s people, since the prices were fixed and bargaining was not an option. Further closer to the slums, the prices were lower and affordable. What particularly caught my attention was that the mannequins for displaying women clothes had clearly bigger booties than those in Europe. I really wanted to photograph one, but thought the locals might get offended by this Mzungo (= gringo, = خواجة).
We walked through tiny passages in the big labyrinth-like market which was full of stalls, each is a tiny one to two meters and stacked with second-hand merchandise. Everything you need. Clothes, kitchen utensils, power adaptors, everything is there. Second hand and affordable. Winnie kept greeting people throughout our path and exchanging a few words with this and that shop owner. We passed by barber shops which are tiny enough for a chair and a tiny mirror, a beauty salon where ladies can get their nails done, even hotels which are practically one room! I am walking through these passages where people paid little attention to me, not what I expected. This commercial part, the slum shopping mall if you wish, looked miserable to me, but it was buzzing with trade and movement. In most of these businesses, one can pay using the local mobile payment system called M-PESA (like TWINT in switzerland) without need for cash.
We moved then to the residential part. Winnie took me to the school before the students go home. I arrived at a tiny room with around 10 children packed like a sardine tin. The teacher had a child sitting on her lap and there was a green board with the lesson of the day written in chalk. Everything you need to learn well. I saluted the children and the teacher asked them to sing a song for me. They sang with enthusiasm as well as some little choreography. That was one of the cutest things I have ever seen. I wished them all a happy new year, and we continued our way. Outside the class were these plastic thingies where children used as toilette. Winnie showed me a concrete building of 3 rooms that they bought from donations of the tourists. I will come back to this later.
Today’s lesson
I couldn’t be happier
Children toilette
The houses were either out of metal, out of mud or the more elaborate ones have concrete. However, they all don’t have a water supply or sewage. They, therefore, don’t have bathrooms as well. Instead, there are common bathrooms you can rent. You pay 10 shillings (around 0.1 USD) per usage. If you have diarrhea you are f****. Also, the showers are to rent, warm water is more expensive. Water is also sold here. 20 Liters cost 5 shillings, but you have to carry it to your “house”. Each of the above-mentioned opened business ideas for some locals.
I walked with Winnie in disbelief. I have never seen these living conditions on this scale. It is estimated that more than a million people live here in Kibera. However miserable I found this, these people seemed to have some sort of life full of dreams, playing, social life, love, hate, ambitions, and hope. Somehow, I didn’t feel that “desperate” was part of this place.
Winnie took me to some workshops, carpenters, blacksmiths, as well as a local workshop that makes jewelry from brass and animal bones. I bought a brass ring with parts of cow’s horn to support the locals. Since it is too feminine for my taste, I will be sending it to the first female reader residing in Europe (for logistics) that claims it in the comments section 😀 .
Precious!
We walked further, passing by a friend of hers that was HIV positive. It seems to be a common problem here. People only discover it after their partners die! We went to a local initiative called “women empowering group” where HIV-positive women joined forces to try to make a living by doing crafts. Some of them have HIV-positive children as well. They go regularly to a health facility for antiretroviral treatment, which is covered by the government for free. I was sitting among them, listening and contemplating at the same time. I have no words.
In front of the workshop of power women group. This is Winnie my guide
The power women rolled paper to make beads, the beads made bracelets that they sold
More walking, more images flash in front of my eyes. More stories are told casually by Winnie. At times I felt overwhelmed. She asked me regularly: “do you have questions?”, and I didn’t have. I think at times I didn’t want to know more. I was afraid I might not be able to handle all of this.
We passed by a container that had “community clinic” on it. I asked Winnie if we could go inside. Inside I met Victor, a physician assistant (which is a 4 years study). He does a doctor’s job for the major part since this was a level-1 health care facility. There are multiple more levels. You can find doctors only starting from level 4 or so. The biggest hospital in the country is level 6. I asked him a few questions about the healthcare system and about what he would do if he suspects a stroke. There are only a few places that have a CT.
Winnie took me to some platform where I could see the whole slum area. Then she took me to her home in the slums which she shared with her brother. The rooms are separated by curtains. Almost every house has a sleeping area, a sitting area, and a cooking area. They usually cook with charcoal because it is the cheapest. If it is cold, they cook inside their houses. They have electricity that is stolen from the government lines. Every now and then the government raids these line connections. However, the locals restore the connections immediately after the raid.
I bid Winnie farewell, I paid her the fees and obviously a donation. I promised her that I will mention the cause here. The donations are supposed to go to building the school for those children. We agreed to meet before I fly back home. So if you, my dear reader, would like to donate something to this school, and you trust me, you can contact me privately (you will know how).
Some guys playing billiards and some playing ludo
A one-room hotel
Entertainment is important, even if you don’t have a toilette at home
For dinner, I was supposed to meet Nadia, a local tinder-match where I explicitly wrote that I am looking only for conversations. At the end, before going to the restaurant she asked if I would cover her Uber, hell no! Meeting out of humane reasons is a lost art of living. Instead, I treated myself to a high-end local restaurant for some lamb-stew with mashed sweet potato. James, the waiter, saw me playing some chess on the iPad and wanted to challenge me or a game. They have a set in the restaurant, and he would ask his boss for a break, hehe.. his boss said “No” to him but “yes” to Lawrence, who is the baker and has finished his duties. Lawrence came with the set and we played two games. He told me that a chess trainer comes every now and then to train the staff of the restaurant! what? why? cool, no?
I slept around 10 hours! I’m not sure if this was because I was too tired from the day before or because I woke up numerous times when each tenant in this 10-floors building closed their door to go to work. It is Monday morning, and humanity has agreed on hating that morning. I assume this had something with slamming the doors and waking me up.
I started my day with breakfast in some local café in this rich neighborhood. I could tell that people were not poor from how they dressed. The guy in the next table was wearing the Swiss designed ON shoes. I don’t know why I did not expect to see this in Nairobi. I think in one and half days I’ve already changed some of my prejudices and expectations, despite the fact that I have visited Africa before and also read “Factfulness” for Hans Rosling. English was spoken in most of the surrounding tables, and then there was this phenomenon that I have observed in the cafés and restaurants that I have visited so far; Every 10 to 15 minutes one person from one table goes to chat with another person on the other table, which makes me think this is a small community of people who are doing well in life and know each other. In general, most of the tables had lively conversations, and people seemed to be enjoying their lives.
I decided to go for a haircut and thought that a tidy appearance would give a better impression when socializing with strangers. However, John, the barber, gave me my second-worst haircut in history. Only topped by that haircut I had in Ecuador by a fugitive Ex-gang member who escaped from the United States. I thought “well I’m in a foreign country where nobody actually cares. I have two weeks before going back to Europe, and the gorgeous ladies there will see better hair!”
In the afternoon I was busy on a free walking tour, where I was joined by a couple from Germany and two cousins traveling from the United States in addition to our local guides Brian and Nicolas. We walked for around three hours getting to know about the history of Kenya in general and Nairobi in particular, bombarded with dates and names of politicians that I forgot within seconds. Actually, by the time of writing this post, I might have forgotten 99% of what I have heard. However, they told us about the “Matatus”, (man I love Kiswahili and how it is pronounced). So a Matatu is a minibus that is desigend with graffities, has loudspeakers, and is hip-hop on the inside. Nicolas told us that some have even playstation on board for the entertainment of the passengers in the rush-hour traffic. The price of the ride would vary depending on how “cool” the Matatu is! I found this short article with photo about Matatus. “Matatu” is now definitely one of my favorite words!
At the end of the tour, I decided to join Hasani and Keisha (the two American travelers) for a local dinner. We exchanged travel stories. Hasani works in Germany, while Keisha is a Nurse anesthetist in New Jersey. After a long local dinner early, we decided to stay in touch and maybe re-join paths in the future.
With Keisha and Hasani and the not-so-tasty dinner The not-so-tasty dinner with fries, cooked banana, rice, liver, spinache, Ugale (some dough of corn flour), beef and Mukimo (mashed potatoes mixed with mashed beans and peas)
After we parted I thought the evening was still young, and I had some space for a dessert and potentially a cup of tea, so decided to head to CJ’s, a restaurant that belongs to the same chain where I have been a day before. While I was enjoying my apple pie with ice cream and a cocktail, a voice directed to me said: “are you a tourist too?”. I turned my neck and found a well-dressed African lady. I told myself: she is definitely not a tourist. But anyway, I would never pass on such a chance for a conversation with a stranger. Her name was “Gift” and she was a solo traveler from Nigeria. I must confess, the conversation was not that spectacular, except for how she explained her strategy to approach me. She said it would have been weird if she went directly from her table to my table to talk to me. So she decided to go to the ladies’ room and on the way back, she would stop casually and ask me as if she has just noticed me. I laughed! In the beginning, I thought she was hitting on me. Then I thought, maybe she is a gold digger. Then I thought she is probably a rich solo traveler. At the end of the evening, I was still not wiser about her than before. The only thing I know was that there is a driver waiting for her outside.
I decided I will use this bathroom trick during my Kenya time. So stay tuned!
