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.
