Noel, noel

Sunday mornings begin best with pancakes, I decided as I tucked into the feast Agnes presented us with. Aunty Terry suggested enjoying them with ripe bananas, a delicious combination. Breakfast is always served with sweet, milky kenyan tea. I can't remember the last time I ate something before church, much less something this divine.

Dressed in our Sunday best, or at least the nicest dresses in our suitcases, we headed off. I assumed the first building with a steeple was our destination, to which Dorothy replied 'no, dear, that's a cult.' After a short drive, we finally arrived at the correct church, which had dozens of dressed up children running around - too cute.

The singing had already begun, so we slipped in and took our seats to the side. Although I didn't understand the lyrics, the melody was quite catchy and I found myself humming along. Aunty Terry seems quite amused by the fact that I join in with the dancing, especially because I'm not even always sure why we are dancing in the first place.

The church was having a carol service, and their choir beautifully harmonised everything from Away in a Manger to The First Noel. When the announcements were being done, the pastor welcomed any visitors. Dorothy whispered to me 'everyone's looking at you,' to which i replied, 'i know, they always are.' Only then did I realize that I was supposed to be standing. Why she didn't just tell me to stand in the first place instead of being so cryptic, I don't know, but I was up on my feet in a shot. A guest speaker from America then explained the importance of Jesus being born of a virgin, and the service ended with the choir singing We Wish You a Merry Christmas.

Outside, Dee introduced me to even more of her family. I'm beginning to wonder if there are many kenyans she isn't related to. Maybe Obama is a distant cousin of hers as well?

When we finally finished greeting everyone, we headed to town for lunch. Aunty Margaret, Tony's mom, joined us at a chinese place, where they had bbq chicken wings for a starter (only in Africa). Dee and I had a laugh at the menu, which listed chicken and pork dishes under the vegetarian section. We eventually managed to place an order for a dish without meat, which we enjoyed amidst animated conversation.

Afterwards, we decided to attempt bargain hunting at the market again. This time, though, we were armed with Aunty Terry's powerful negotiating skills. Despite the fact that the vendors were less passive than those at the first market we'd been to, she managed to work them down to a fraction of their original selling price, much lower than we had managed. At one point though, she sent me away to sit in the shade with Aunty Margaret. Apparently my very presence was driving the cost of items up. Dee and I each walked off with gorgeous beaded handbags, which we celebrated with ice cream.

That night we relaxed at home watching soap operas on tv. It's quite an amusing way to pass the time here. Originally in Spanish, they've been dubbed into English. Between the overdone theatrics, long dramatic pauses, and unsynchronised lip movements, the shows are good for a giggle. Then there are the vicious theats to 'boil one another in their own soups' said with such serious facial expressions that you cannot help but laugh. Funniest of all, though, might be how Dee and her family muse over the events on screen, deciding who deserves their fate and wondering what some characters were thinking. Never a dull moment in Nairobi :)

Food, glorious food

I awoke to the sound of laughter ringing through the house as Aunt Terry and Dee greeted each other at last. She'd just got home from China, where she'd been shopping for stock for her shop. We'd been worried that she might be delayed because the Chinese randomly decided to cancel her flight from Yu to the international airport.

Over breakfast, which included my favourite fruit - juicy, fragrant mangos, she amused us with the story of how she made her flight home on time, including language barrier confusion, crazy taxi rides, and lost plane tickets. We, in turn, told her our travelling tales of ridiculous traffic jams and bursting bladders.

The plans for the day included visiting the Masai Market to shop for authentic kenyan gifts. Tony was supposed to meet us there to help us bargain, but there was a problem with the taxis and so he had to walk, which meant Dee and I were left to navigate the colourful stalls of trinkets alone. Like any woman faced with enormous variety, deciding what to buy proved difficult. There where so many things I wanted to take home, including colourful scarves, carved stone chess sets, and beaded sandals.

But we were no good at haggling at all. Dee felt we were being ripped off, but also felt bad 'taking food out of people's mouths,' while I thought everything was already cheap enough. After an hour of doing the best we could, Tony finally arrived to take us to the taxi rank. It was lucky that he'd made it in time to escort us because we literally had to weave through a maze of streets.

The taxi problem hadn't been solved (something to do with police in nairobi west) but he managed to find a driver heading in our direction. So we bounced along the pavements and squeezed between the traffic in the back of the minibus to the part of town where Dee's aunt and uncle were waiting for us.

Transferring from one vehicle to another, we headed out of town to attend a labola ceremony. The event took place at the groom's family home, which bordered a national park. The stoep behind the house, where a gazebo had been erected and chairs scattered about, overlooked the river bordering the park where zebras could be seen grazing under the thorn trees. What a view!

As soon as I arrived, an adorable 2yr old girl ran up to me and hugged my legs. Apparently, kenyan friendliness is genetic rather than nurtured because even her 3 month old sister seemed to like me, grabbing a fistful of my hair to try and get into her mouth. The little girl stuck by my side through most of the proceedings, playing with my hair and pointing out interesting cloud features and animals.

A late lunch was served to us by waiters in long red aprons, starting us off with salad, followed by meat (which was easy enough to avoid). The main course was served buffet style, which for us vegetarians included salad, rice, mixed vegetables, and mokimo (a kenyan dish of peas and potatoes mashed together). It was really delicious.

Speeches followed in kiSwahili, which Dee translated as best as she could for me. Then, the women all went in to take the bride to see the kitchen, much to my friend's horror ('talk about socialization!') It was quite fun, anyway, with all the singing and dancing. Finally, the bride was presented with a beautiful necklace from her 'mother-in-love' (cute, huh?) to welcome her to the groom's family.

After dessert and coffee were served, it was time for everyone to head home. Unlike back in South Africa where people leave in their own time, here the party had a clear end and everyone jumped into their cars to fight the traffic back into Nairobi together. The going was made especially slow by drivers who decided to make three lanes out of the narrow road, leaving us driving over the dirt and grass. It was by the end of this slow trip that I'd learned a new word 'njinga,' which means idiot.

I got home exhausted and ready for bed only to find that Agnes had prepared dinner. Despite still being full from having just had a big lunch, we sat down to yet another meal. It was delicious as ever, but I couldn't enjoy as much of it as usual. So it was with a very full stomach that I crawled under the covers, which may be why I slept better than I had in the last few days. In kenya, you don't need to worry about going hungry, that's for sure.

Only in Kenya!

The smell of pancakes finally enticed me from my warm bed, where i'd been listening to the world outside waking up. Someone's roosters greeted the dawn, much to the annoyance of the neighbor's dogs. My stomach had been growling since the early hours of the morning, so it was time to kick my dear friend out of bed.

Our plans for the day were fairly vague. They broadly involved going to town and meeting up with Dee's friends. She happily snapped away with her new camera at the important buildings her uncle pointed out as we drove through central Nairobi, eventually arriving at the Stage Market, where her aunt has a shop.

The market is so different to the ones in South Africa, where most vendors specialize in specific products (such as clothing or electronics). Here, though, everyone sells a wide variety of items. While the premisis may be small, it has been efficiently organized to stock a truckload of goods. Aunt Terry's shop displayed everything from wallets to flashlights to kitchen knives, which she sells at wholesale prices to vendors and hawkers.

It was here that I met the mother and brother of Dee's cousin, Villy, who lives in Durban. One thing kenyans cannot be faulted on is their friendliness. When I visited Durban with Dee earlier this year, I was greeted as a friend and left as part of the family. At no point was I ever a stranger.

And it was in this fashion that her aunt margaret and cousin tony welcomed me to the shop. Dee's aunt was excited to have us visiting, I think, because she took us through the market, introducing us to her friends at other shops.

Cultural differences became apparent when an older woman stood to give me her seat, which I respectfully declined. Quickly, Dorothy whispered under her breath, 'Vicky, sit down.' So, I did, dutifully. She explained later that in Kenya it's rude to refuse when someone offers you something, even if it means taking a seat away from an older person.

Her cousin, Tony, offered to take us through town, knowing full well that we'd get hopelessly lost on our own. Our first stop was to see a very good friend of Dee's, who she hadn't seen in 7 years. As the two glossed over the events they'd missed in each other's lives, I played around on Tony's phone, one which isn't available in South Africa yet. I was shocked to find out how cheap it was to buy brand new in Nairobi - less than a third of what we pay in South Africa. No need to travel to the East to buy cheap electronics, it seems...

Wandering the crowded streets and weaving through the taxis can really work on one's appetite, so we headed off to a busy restaurant. There were no tables free, but apparently what counts is seating availability. We were simply added to a table of people we didn't know, where we proceeded to have lunch while being ignored by them. It was bizarre.

Before we left, we decided to make use of the 'washroom' as they are called here. Another weird kenyan phenomenon awaited us - the toilets are sunken so that the rim is level with the ground and you have to squat over it. For the first time, I realized how difficult it is to aim when you pee. But hey, at least dirty toilet seats are not a problem.

Tony insisted that we try Tuskers, the local brew, so we headed off to a pub that overlooked the street from the second floor. The street is a lot more interesting at a safe vantage point where you can see what people get up to, and Dee and I had fun commenting on what different people were wearing. The beer wasn't too bad, I suppose, but I'm not really a beer person. It gets better the more you drink it, anyway. ;)

One of Dee's friends from Botswana, Nelly, came to join us. She excitedly announced that she was getting married, and wanted the scoop on married life from me. When I showed her a photo of my husband, she reasoned that it was a good thing i got a ring onto his finger before another women got hold of his good looking self. What can I say? She got me ;)

The plan was to take a taxi home, but the queues in the streets were worryingly long. Tony explained that it wasn't a problem because most people were waiting for the fares drop as the night wore on. Nevertheless, we still had to push our way on and grab a seat on the vehicle destined to get us home.

While taxis in kenya drive as badly (if not worse) as those in South Africa, its actually a lot less irritating when you are being transported by one. For one thing, it's faster. By ramping pavements and forcing their way between other cars, they keep moving when everyone else is standing still. We had a few close shaves and I think our taxi might've removed someone's side mirror, but driving in nairobi is never fast enough to be dangerous. The traffic is just too bad. I will never complain about a traffic jam on the N1 ever again.

Actually, the trip was quite a lot of fun. The driver had the radio turned up and dee and I sang along and boogied in our seats. But maybe thats just novelty speaking...

Another adventure begins...

Settling into married life hasn't made for great blogging moments simply because not much has really changed yet. As Kev and I both work from home, we saw each other every day before we were married, so its not that strange living together now. It also didn't take long for me to become dissatisfied with my desk job and develop an overwhelming desire to hit the road again.

By chance, that opportunity came sooner than expected when my dearest kenyan friend got sent to nairobi on business and realized that it was a great opportunity to take me home to meet her family. I already had a ticket to kenya, as I'll be climbing kilimanjaro in two weeks. The timing couldn't be better. :)

Despite the fact that Kevin didn't think I could get myself onto the plane without problems, i had a very pleasant flight, had a really lovely lunch (bizarrly, i love airline food), and chatted at length to a kenyan man about married life, the environment, corruption, and traffic. The four hours literally flew by.

I also breezed through the kenyan airport. My bag arrived first on the carosel, there was no queue at customs, and dorothy was eagerly waiting for me as i walked through the sliding doors. After excited hugs, kisses, and greetings, we hurried through the rain to her uncle's car and headed home.

Barely a few minutes out of the airport, we hit the traffic my fellow passenger had warned me about as our plane came in to land. It was also at about that point that I realized that I should've visited the bathroom before leaving the airport. As we sat motionless bumper to bumper, I wondered if i couldn't just jog back to the airport quickly in my desperation.

Amusingly, street hawkers came along between the cars trying to sell their junk. Unlike South Africa, where these persistent salesmen hang around traffic lights, here they patrol the highway in peak traffic. Dorothy was tempted to purchase some roasted nuts until her uncle revealed the unhygeinic conditions under which they are prepared. She decided to suppress her hunger until we got home and dinner was served.

Meanwhile, I tried to suppress my need to pee. The pressure building up in my bladder was worsened by the jerky motion of sudden breaking as people cut in front of us (when we were actually moving). Worse still, the close shaves, constant hooting, and general lack of clear road rules is enough to make you want to wet yourself even without a full bladder.

Three hours later (almost as long as my flight), we finally arrived at dee's uncle's home. Thankfully, clean bathrooms, delicious food, and warm beds were waiting for us. Having been up since 4am (why do I struggle to sleep when I'm excited?), I was quite eager to collapse into bed. However, when dee and i start talking, there's no stopping us, and it was nearly midnight when i finally fell asleep. But who needs sleep when on holiday? Not me, apparently, I realized when I found myself wide awake again at 3am...