Kenya 2022 | Day 13b: My First Flying Lesson

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”.


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

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

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.

Kenya 2022 | Days 12 and 13a: In Kenya’s National Hospital

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.

Kenya 2022 | Day 11: Helmuth’s Art Gallery

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 Kibera
Helmuth showing my some of his private collection
Helmuth, 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

The last supper?

Kenya 2022 | Day 10: back to Nairobi ❤️ 🇰🇪

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 😀

Kenya 2022 | Day 4: AfroBeats

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.

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!

Kenya 2022 | Day 3: the Friendliest Slum in the World

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.

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.

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).


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?

Sorry Lawrence!

Kenya 2022 | Day 1: What am I doing here?

Here I go.. Here I wander..
Looking for a moment, and a missing answer..
Will we ever fill the void?.. Is it time to surrender?

In the tiny room in Nairobi

I booked my flight to Nairobi 4 days ago. Planing does not make sense in these times of uncertainty. I needed to travel.. I needed to travel far.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my life. I love where I am living, and I enjoy what I am doing. I have been blessed by being constantly exposed to sensible souls, brilliant minds and remarkable personalities. However, we frequent travelers are cursed. We crave for the new. I crave.. I crave for a change.
New destinations bring new destinies. New changes that, if you allow, could alter your being. Well, it often happens also when you are not willing to allow it. I didn’t really choose Kenya. It just happened. A combination of a reasonable ticket price, reasonable COVID restrictions for travelers, and the ease with which I could enter the country.

But what am I doing here? I don’t know. I just wanted to expose myself to the universe again and see what comes my way. I have always been fascinated by the concept of “initiative”. Someone starts something. It needs momentum and energy. It requires courage and readiness to fail. Whether it is planning an event, approaching a charming person on the street or just taking a new step. Introducing energy into a system usually generates some beautiful Turbulence: life.
Serendipity, a beautiful word that sounds like gentle, soft kisses.

This quote is also from “The Forty Rules of Love”

In this trip, I am hoping to encounter and challenge some of my fears. I am hoping to think extensively over the views of extended African sands. I am hoping to clean my heart from the entitlement and greed that creeps over it from luxurious privileged high standard living. 
My companion on this trip is a re-read; “The Forty Rules of Love” by Elif Shafak. I read this book a decade ago, and it has changed many of my perceptions in life.


I landed early on the 2nd of January. Everything was smooth given my online Visa, COVID19-Vaccination certificate, and negative PCR test, I uber-ed my way to the Airbnb room which was in a quiet fancy neighborhood full of residential compounds surrounded by walls and having security guards on the gates. Sheila received me, showed me the tiny room, as well as the gym and swimming pool that belong to the building. Being in Africa, you come back to the reality that in most of the world things are not perfect. This is not the case in Switzerland, where perfection is constantly aimed at. Here the water tap is leaking unless you use higher power. If you don’t look at the street while walking, you are sure to fall.

I had a light itching that I attributed to my self-diagnosed dust allergy. So I thought I pass by the pharmacy and get myself antihistamines. While checking out I found out that the price is around 2500 shillings, equaling around 20 euros. I thought, how can the regular citizen afford such medicine.. What about antibiotics? You probably need to sell your kidney.. Wait.. What do you do if you need to treat your kidney?

I slept a few hours, went to a relatively fancy restaurant for dinner, and then headed to watch Liverpool game in a mall. People here are nice and friendly. They also speak decent english in general. In my first day, I have a good feeling about this country and its people.