That evening, we boarded a bus with our American friends to Mombasa. It was our first time let loose in Kenya without help. The bus was luxurious, comfier than our planes and they gave us free water and sweets. We arrived in Mombasa at 5am, before sunrise. This was not good news. As soon as we got off the bus, sleepy and still very dazed, with little idea of what we were going to do other than to try and watch the sunrise from a beach, we were mobbed by taxi drivers, Matatu touts, and people hassling us this way and that. We decided to try and walk towards the sunrise, reasoning that we'd end up at the beach sooner or later. Half an hour later, walking with our huge bags, sticking out like 4 sore thumbs, and having missed the sunset while a particularly charming man had attempted to grab and run off with Heather's necklace from around her neck - we decided we wanted out. Quickly. We made our way to the ferry which would take us on our way to the touristy beaches South of Mombasa, and by 8am Heather and I had set up our tent in a charming wee campsite next to Diani Beach. The beach was magnificent, but the weather was more than a little temperamental. We spent a half-day touring the magnificently green Sacred Forest of the Kaya Kinondo, wearing the mandatory black skirts required by local custom and swinging like tarzan on liana branches. The rest of our time was on the white-sanded, palm-tree-fringed beach or in the beach bar, refusing business from the beach sellers (offering camel rides, snorkelling, hair-braiding, massages and plain old Kenyan tourist tat) and being a little shocked by the blatant (ab)use of young Kenyan men by middle-aged white ladies who were, perhaps, just a little lonely. Hmmm...
Our American friends left Diani on a bus to Dar the day before us. This seemed like a good idea to copy, so the man in charge of our campsite booked (and had us pay him for) our tickets on the bus and told us where to be when. It all seemed fine. When it came to that morning however, we were unable to get a Matatu into town on time, and arrived in the vague locality of the bus stop about 20minutes late. We didn't know the bus company name, and had no tickets (they were supposed to be on the bus waiting for us). This was not good. In the hope that the bus was late, we stuck around for another hour, deciding to try and get on any bus to Dar even if it cost a small fortune. We asked some local guys for help, and they hailed a coach that stopped 200yds down the road from us. Just as I started to run to catch up with it, the clouds opened and it monsooned on us. To add insult to injury, the coach pulled away just before I reached it. This was not shaping up to be a good morning. Soaked through, with dripping bags, we sought shelter with our new local friends and waited, hoping for something good to happen. Eventually, just as our hope was fading to non-existent levels, another coach came within sight. Our new friend, Carlos, liked the look of it and ran across to stand in the road in its path and force it to stop. We grabbed our bags and went over to him. It started monsooning. Again. He talked to the driver, and by some miracle, was able to confirm that a) this bus was indeed going to Dar and b) that it was our bus, only 90minutes late. We hopped on, dripping on the other passengers as we wobbled up the aisle, and squelched into our seats.
We were in Dar Es Salaam 9hrs later. Our taxi from the bus station into town took another hour. Our guidebook promised us that there were more than 10 budget choices for accommodation, so we hadn't bothered booking and we sought out the YMCA hostel first. No room at the inn. I phoned the other 9 options. No room at those inns either. This was not looking good. Even the Midrange places couldn't accommodate us. It was dark. We were tired. Luckily Heather was not heavily pregnant with Son of God, and for that reason we didn't sleep in a barn, but checked into the absolute luxury of the Holiday Inn for $157. Oops. The showers were good though.... Hot water. At the turn of a tap. Who'd have thought it?
Tuesday, 3 August 2010
PCEA Kibera
So Heather decided it's my turn to help with catching up on our adventures. I didn't really feel like writing. She threatened to tickle me to death if I didn't write. I hate being tickled. I should've fed her to the lions when I had the chance.
Returning to Nairobi, we spent a day with Naomi - one of the group of Kenyans who visited Scotland in 2008 and whom I met at Youth Assembly that year. She works for the PCEA (Presbyterian Church of East Africa) in Kibera, which is the largest slum in Kenya. This was our second visit to Kibera, having been for a 'slum tour' upon our arrival at KVDA. It's a different place the second time round.
When I first trod round the bumpy muddy tracks, weaving between slanting market stalls, dodging running children, chickens and goodness-knows-what under our feet, I can't claim to have felt at ease. These were some of my first hours in Africa, and the different smells and sights and ways of life made quite an impact. It was busy, loud, and with everyone market seller clamouring for your attention, it was quite intimidating. What surprised me most was the sheer amount of 'stuff' kicking about - to say that the people have next to nothing wouldn't be wrong, but the slum is cluttered with the cast-offs of the West: shoes, second hand clothes, watches, B-grade electronics and radios, sunglasses, copied DVDs and CD's, mobile phones and top-ups as well as any number groceries (maize, tomatoes, greens, sweet potatoes and 'Irish' potatoes) piled in neat wee pyramids. People make their pittance of a living trying to sell what they can in a slum community reckoned to be home to more than 1million people, most of whom live on less than the UN global poverty line of $1 a day.
On my second visit, my impressions were very different. I knew what to expect. I even knew my way around. I'd been in Kenya for a month now, and I felt almost at home. I think it helped that we were being taken round by Naomi, who grew up in the slums. It was an odd feeling - an alien, scary place in which I'd been astounded that human life was able to exist now presented itself as familiar and almost friendly. People are happy in Kibera. The smiles are broader than any I've seen on any street in Edinburgh. We stopped to say hello to a lady who goes to PCEA Kibera before reaching the church itself. In the post-election violence of 2007-08, the church lost everything. Three of their four buildings were forcefully taken from them, two of which were destroyed. Those employees and elders who tried to persevere were virtually held hostage inside the remaining building; Naomi says she spent four days there, locking herself in for safety before she had to flee for her life as petrol bombs began being thrown into the church compound. With this in mind, it is astonishing that, 3 years later, walking into the church grounds you would never guess at any of their hardship. They've built a brand new Technical College, a Primary School and associated ECDE (Early Child Development and Education i.e. Crèche/Nursery) as well as renovating their main worship building. The College is administrated by the church but open to all, offering courses (with reduced and very reasonable prices) in Adult Education, Hair and Beauty, Design and Textiles, Catering and IT. They college was drawing to the end of its second intake of students when we visited, and although uptake isn't yet at a stage that the college is able to run without financial help, Naomi says that former students have been very satisfied, they leave with useful qualifications that mean something and many have found some form of employment since then. The Primary School has good uptake, Kenyan government is working hard to push the importance of education, and the message is now fixed in the popular mind that to improve your children's lives you need to educate them. The kids were very friendly, and the the teachers seemed better equipped to teach than in rural Maanzoni. The EDCE classroom had lots of bright poster and decoration that the kids had made. It was fantastic to see the social side of their work - as a church, PCEA Kibera seem to understand and work within the ethos that they cannot validly preach the hope and promise of God's love without offering it in the real form of providing for the community's needs. It was wonderful to see the church, to have tea and lunch with Naomi (I think it might be the first time I've witnessed Grace being said for a cup of tea...) and to see how vibrant, relevant and hopeful the African Church is. I'd love to go back for longer one day.
Monday, 2 August 2010
Maasai Mara
Okay so I'm recounting times long past but I thought it would be best to start where the last blog left off even though it was many adventures ago now. After our three weeks in the middle of nowhere without power and water we were thrust into Western-style luxury camping in the beautiful Maasai Mara. We had beds and showers and sit down toilets and lights and even the promise of hot water from a tap, all things hugely foreign to us, a definite culture shock. The other shock we had on arrival at the camp was the number of other white people there. It was the first time I'd felt very conscious of my skin colour and I felt uneasy overhearing their conversations which sounded smug and wealthy and we all felt slightly superior because we were volunteers, not just on holiday though I doubt how justified that thought is.
The drive from Nairobi to the Maasai Mara was stunning. The five of us had been picked up early in the morning by our guide Linus in a safari truck the same size as the matatus we had been traveling in with 20+ people crammed in but with only 7 seats in the back and set off in comfort towards the Great Rift Valley. We stopped at a viewpoint looking over the valley which is HUGE. It stretches 9600km from where we were all the way to the Dead Sea. The day was slightly overcast so the pictures don't do the view justice. It was another epic demonstration of how the sky in Africa is much bigger that you could ever imagine. It felt like the valley was part of another world you were looking down on, and that you could see 360 degrees around it in every direction. It was green and almost Scotish, with hills that seemed barely blips on the surface and cliffs around the edges as if someone had simply carved a valley into the rocks. There was also a confusing satellite dish station in the middle of the view...
We picked up Thorunn, another volunteer we had met at the KVDA house before we set off, and continued onto our safari village at the edge of the great game park. Andrew described our tents as "canvas-walled chalets" which is very much what they were. Each had a concrete floor and a brick walled, roofed bathroom at one end. I can't express the excitement we felt at being able to simply turn a tap to get water or at the fact you could stand under a shower and wash your hair - as a girl it's quite hard to clean your hair properly from a basin. It was such a novelty. We were all quite giddy from all these luxuries by the time we went on our first, and probably best, game drive that evening. We did LOADs of animal (and wazungu) spotting in the two hours we were out. We saw (amoung other things I will remember when there are pictures) Tepi Antelope, Thomson's Gazelles, Mpala, Zebra, Wildebeest, Giraffes, a pride of lions and, most excitingly, a cheetah eating a recent kill. The cheetah was obviously the most exciting thing in the park and had tons of trucks circling around it. Linus says it's very rare to see a cheetah eating as they are usually very secretive and would run off at the first sign of competition. It was a very brave cheetah.
Just as the sun started to set on us we managed to get stuck in the mud in a deserted part of the park. We thought this was great fun. We tried to push the truck out but the wheels just kept spinning. We rambled about out of the safety of the truck much to Linus's dismay - he looked away for two minutes and all of a sudden the 6 of us were spread out in every direction around the van, playing in the long grass and taking pictures. Linus sent out a plea for help on the radio and several trucks came along. One of them was full of young folk who go out and helped us push providing the extra oomph required to get us out to hard ground.
The second day we went on a full day (11 hour) game drive starting out at 7am. We went to nomansland between Kenya and Tanzania and stood on the boarder post while admiring the hills of the Serengeti. We had packed lunch at the river, eating quickly to keep our food from the monkeys, and walked along the river banks accompanied by a man with a gun to see the hippos and crocodiles lazing by the water. The crocs were giant, the size of a house which surprised me, I was expecting tablesized ones but these could crush you with a foot. The water was strewn with bodies of wildabeast who didn't make it across with the rest in the Great Migration from the Serengeti to the Maasai Mara. The crocodiles would leave them to soften in the water before tucking in. Futhur up the river there were massive birds hanging out with more hippos, spreading their wings to dry them in the hot afternoon sun.
When we left the park that afternoon we headed to the Maasai Village to 'meet the locals' and learn about Maasai culture. It was an awfully touristy experience. Made me wonder to what extent can you call an experience cultural if it is put on as a show for you? We watched the men dance, and then the women dance, meanwhile being told to wear Maasai dress (including a lion mane headdress) and stand in the middle for photos. We tried to make fire with sticks and then were sepearated off into twos and shown the inside of Maasai huts (built by the women, never men). This was basically an excuse to try and wear us down and convince us to buy lion and cheetah teeth - in Maasai culture when boys turn 15 they are sent out into the wilderness for 3 years with nothing but the clothes on their back to become men by killing a lion. Once they've succeeded in killing a male lion they can return to their village victorious with the one who cast the spear claiming the mane of the lion as a trophy and proof that they succeeded.
Our third day, we went on an early morning game drive which, after the last two days, was somewhat disapointing. We saw a lot of antilopes and some jackels and not much else. The sunrise over the plains of the Maasai Mara was quite beautiful though.
I'd really like to put pictures up but unfortunately the internet is much to slow so pictures will have to wait until I am home, not long now!
The drive from Nairobi to the Maasai Mara was stunning. The five of us had been picked up early in the morning by our guide Linus in a safari truck the same size as the matatus we had been traveling in with 20+ people crammed in but with only 7 seats in the back and set off in comfort towards the Great Rift Valley. We stopped at a viewpoint looking over the valley which is HUGE. It stretches 9600km from where we were all the way to the Dead Sea. The day was slightly overcast so the pictures don't do the view justice. It was another epic demonstration of how the sky in Africa is much bigger that you could ever imagine. It felt like the valley was part of another world you were looking down on, and that you could see 360 degrees around it in every direction. It was green and almost Scotish, with hills that seemed barely blips on the surface and cliffs around the edges as if someone had simply carved a valley into the rocks. There was also a confusing satellite dish station in the middle of the view...
We picked up Thorunn, another volunteer we had met at the KVDA house before we set off, and continued onto our safari village at the edge of the great game park. Andrew described our tents as "canvas-walled chalets" which is very much what they were. Each had a concrete floor and a brick walled, roofed bathroom at one end. I can't express the excitement we felt at being able to simply turn a tap to get water or at the fact you could stand under a shower and wash your hair - as a girl it's quite hard to clean your hair properly from a basin. It was such a novelty. We were all quite giddy from all these luxuries by the time we went on our first, and probably best, game drive that evening. We did LOADs of animal (and wazungu) spotting in the two hours we were out. We saw (amoung other things I will remember when there are pictures) Tepi Antelope, Thomson's Gazelles, Mpala, Zebra, Wildebeest, Giraffes, a pride of lions and, most excitingly, a cheetah eating a recent kill. The cheetah was obviously the most exciting thing in the park and had tons of trucks circling around it. Linus says it's very rare to see a cheetah eating as they are usually very secretive and would run off at the first sign of competition. It was a very brave cheetah.
Just as the sun started to set on us we managed to get stuck in the mud in a deserted part of the park. We thought this was great fun. We tried to push the truck out but the wheels just kept spinning. We rambled about out of the safety of the truck much to Linus's dismay - he looked away for two minutes and all of a sudden the 6 of us were spread out in every direction around the van, playing in the long grass and taking pictures. Linus sent out a plea for help on the radio and several trucks came along. One of them was full of young folk who go out and helped us push providing the extra oomph required to get us out to hard ground.
The second day we went on a full day (11 hour) game drive starting out at 7am. We went to nomansland between Kenya and Tanzania and stood on the boarder post while admiring the hills of the Serengeti. We had packed lunch at the river, eating quickly to keep our food from the monkeys, and walked along the river banks accompanied by a man with a gun to see the hippos and crocodiles lazing by the water. The crocs were giant, the size of a house which surprised me, I was expecting tablesized ones but these could crush you with a foot. The water was strewn with bodies of wildabeast who didn't make it across with the rest in the Great Migration from the Serengeti to the Maasai Mara. The crocodiles would leave them to soften in the water before tucking in. Futhur up the river there were massive birds hanging out with more hippos, spreading their wings to dry them in the hot afternoon sun.
When we left the park that afternoon we headed to the Maasai Village to 'meet the locals' and learn about Maasai culture. It was an awfully touristy experience. Made me wonder to what extent can you call an experience cultural if it is put on as a show for you? We watched the men dance, and then the women dance, meanwhile being told to wear Maasai dress (including a lion mane headdress) and stand in the middle for photos. We tried to make fire with sticks and then were sepearated off into twos and shown the inside of Maasai huts (built by the women, never men). This was basically an excuse to try and wear us down and convince us to buy lion and cheetah teeth - in Maasai culture when boys turn 15 they are sent out into the wilderness for 3 years with nothing but the clothes on their back to become men by killing a lion. Once they've succeeded in killing a male lion they can return to their village victorious with the one who cast the spear claiming the mane of the lion as a trophy and proof that they succeeded.
Our third day, we went on an early morning game drive which, after the last two days, was somewhat disapointing. We saw a lot of antilopes and some jackels and not much else. The sunrise over the plains of the Maasai Mara was quite beautiful though.
I'd really like to put pictures up but unfortunately the internet is much to slow so pictures will have to wait until I am home, not long now!
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