High Alert

Our first morning in Nairobi, the breakfast buffet is complete with a cook who makes custom omelets. This is our one splurge for this part of the trip. Our room is about $140. a night, but since we arrived late at night, we wanted comfort to start the trip. 

To get to our room corridor, we need to use our room card key and then again to get into the room. Ron went back to the room to get something, but when he did not return, I went looking for him. He bend the wrong way and put his back out. This slowed our day a bit. When we did start our day's adventure, we noticed what passed us by the night before. We need our card key to leave the hotel, plus we need it again to leave the premises. High security for sure. Outside the hotel is a barrier at both entrances for cars coming and going, manned by guards toting machine guns. Our hotel has a pricier sister hotel at the one end of the road. In front of it, is a "Happy Security" sign and area with a strange roundabout, where all cars have to stop to be inspected before they are allowed to go through. It was not until later in the day that we found out that the Israeli Embassy is directly across the street, hence the high security.

What may be cause for celebration for some is that Kenya is a non-smoking country. It is illegal to smoke in public except in designated areas, which are few. I will either cut down on my smoking or have nicotine withdrawal headaches. We shall see.

What we did not take into account is the cost of taxis. Over 50% of Nairobi is slum, constituting 2.5 million people. The safest way to get around is by taxi. The fact that our hotel is in a better neighborhood also means it is not in the city center, thus a major hike via unsafe roads and areas to get to the center. Today alone, we spent about 30 euros, not dollars on taxis.

Being dropped off in the downtown area, we were told it is very safe, because armed guards are everywhere. They are too. We were used to this in South Africa, Namibia and Zimbabwe, but there seem to be even more here. To say the city is not pretty is like saying that a cold sore has appeal. It is close to downright ugly with only a few interesting, but not yet not attractive buildings scattered here and there, seemingly by accident rather than by design.

The streets are like migration times in the plains. Each block has what seems like thousands of people pushing through trying to get somewhere other than where they are, all at varying speeds. Interesting shops are rare to non-existent on most of the streets we were hustled through. Traffic jam has an all new meaning. It could be described as traffic molasses after a deep freeze or the speed of an Artic snail. If they can move 2 feet every ten minutes, they consider it progress. Thankfully, the taxis are not metered. You arrange the fare ahead of time, but hotel taxis have their fares regulated by the hotel. 

We did manage to get to the African Archives, where what we found was one man's collection of artifacts from throughout Africa. His sole concern was that the cultures throughout the continent were vanishing, so he wanted to preserve them as best he could. The guard turned into our guide, giving us a vibrantly interesting history of numerous things as we stopped to look at a piece of history. He is an asset to his community for his vast wealth of history. The only time I wanted to run screaming was when he defended female circumcision as being illegal, but "some tribes still consider it necessary to curb a woman's hot nature for sex". I could have forgiven him, but he continued alluding to his personal agreement with the idea. After listening to it for five minutes, I had to change the subject or scream "That is really called female genital mutilation and it only causes physical and mental damage." Once we moved on to a different subject, I was able to look him in the face again, but he did not get a tip at the end.

We had been downtown for about 2 hours by this point, but we had only seen one other white person, creating some strange feelings. We literally hunted for a place to sit and have a drink and snack. Most of the places we passed were stand-up only. Ron spotted a place on an upper floor, so we went there, receiving curious looks from all of the other patrons. Since we were allowed to smoke there, we probably stayed even longer than we normally would, but there was not a lot to go running off to do anyway. 

The one stop we did make was the US Embassy Memorial garden where the US Embassy was bombed in 1998. More than 250 people were killed in the blast. They now have a visitor's center with a memorial plaque listing the names of the victims in the center of the park. We relaxed on the greens in the park; all benches were filled. After I took a picture of the memorial, a guard came over to make sure I was not doing a video. He then admonished us for not visiting the center to watch the video of the historic day's events. We said perhaps another time, but it seemed rather depressing.  The ambassador must have had warning; she was on the top floor of the bank building next door 'in a meeting'.

Kenya only gained complete independence in 1963. That is not all that long ago when you think about it. We walked over to the Parliament, which offers tours by appointment, but did not pursue it. Many of the government buildings have signs stating "This is a no bribe zone. Anyone attempting to bribe an official..." I wonder how that is working out. The youthfulness of the country does help to explain the infrastructure. The roads are in incredibly poor condition. Most of the buildings downtown were built after independence and for utility, not beauty.

After a taxi ride back, we went to our sister hotel for a beer, checking menus at its 5 different restaurants for dinner options. If not there, it would mean another taxi ride to and from another place. We did return for dinner at the poolside restaurant, but it was so busy, we nary got a peek at the poolside. Dinner was magnificent. I had a Kenyan chicken dish; Ron had red snapper. Presentation is everything with food and they have it down to an art.

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My Kingdom for a Village and a Pig

For the entire week, Don had insisted he needed to see a village. Regardless of his explanations, we could not understand why. We did everything imaginable to talk him out of it. After all, who comes to Budapest for a mere week to venture out to the country to see peasants and pigs? He persisted in wanting to see peasants and pigs, not to say that there is a relationship, but this is assuredly a pork eating culture.

It seems that the notions Americans have about this part of the world, other non-Europeans share in these ideas too. Those who have few experiences with the culture believe that there are farms for miles and civilization is somehow on a different page of the country's book. Sometimes it is true, but they are surprised when they have to travel three hours to find the experience they have in mind. Hungary does have many small cities, but they are cities. I thought I had him convinced to use a photo from the Ethnographic Museum by doctoring it up, but alas, my powers of persuasion are not as great with anyone that is not dependent on getting their university grade from me. He finally found a village called Holloko. The next question was how to get there.

Last night, while Ron and Patricia were at the opera, I had a student translate the bus schedules. This village did not have a train station, not a good sign. Don roused himself at 5:00 am to leave on the 7:00 am bus, but since Patricia was concerned; we gave him Ron’s mobile to use. We were more concerned about his returning; the buses are not regular or often. Don was off for the day for what should have been a two hour bus ride to one town, a switch of buses in Szecseny, and then his final destination of Holloko. At 9:00, I received an SMS stating that they were in the worst traffic jam and he was still in Budapest. I refrained from writing “I told you so” but I was able to think it with satisfaction. A couple of hours later, the next SMS or SOS (?) came through “Among peasants at Szecseny, but no pigs yet.”

As we wondered why he would leave this beautiful city that he found so enchanting looking for pigs, we found tremendous humor in it nevertheless. Patricia maximized her free time by going with Ron to the bookstore to buy books by Hungarian authors translated into English, some souvenirs for her children, and some grocery shopping for their trip home tomorrow. Yes, they are returning home tomorrow. Our lives will be torn apart and we will have empty nest and separation issues to drive us into therapy, but if I think about it now, I will not be able to type through the tears. I am gasping air in chunky gulps just thinking about it.

When guests go shopping, we always encourage a “Show and Tell”. Show us what you bought and tell us who is it for or where you will place it sort of thing. With Don and Patricia it is more relevant since we have been to their home, so the mind pictures are vividly realistic.
Ron, Patricia and I went to the opening of the New York Hotel for tea. Now this is a story in itself, but the New York Hotel has had a sign proclaiming “OPENING SOON” in on the front of it since we arrived here in December 2001 and who knows how much longer before that. Well it finally opened this week and we were like children wanting to visit the candy store. It is magnificent and worth the wait, especially since it just around the corner from us. The experience was lovely sitting in this elegant dining room having tea and coffees, but the one piece missing was not having Don with us. This would have made it complete, but he was off looking for pigs and peasants. We absorbed the swank atmosphere without him, thinking we would drag him back here when he ventured back. This was starting to have elements of the prodigal son theme. The waiter, who brought our check, said that he recognized Patricia from her novels and would be honored to provide her tea on the house. We were so overwhelmed with this; we authorless companions did not mind paying for our coffees, which were not complimentary. Alas, being with a recognized authoress in such ambiance is enough satisfaction.

When we returned home after going off in three different directions doing errands, Patricia did her magic and whipped up a luscious lunch to share. After lunch naps were in order, but when I awoke, the prodigal friend had returned. After spending eight hours on a bus going to a village that no tourist will ever venture to, he had stories to tell. This is what makes his friendship so endearing; his stories are fantastic and being a professional photographer, they are supplemented with visual aids as well.

Don never found the pigs, but did find cows, peasants, and fields of canola. With all of his travels, he had one hour to spend in the little village of Holloko to shoot photos before returning on the only bus that would have allowed him to return in time to share dinner with the other four guests we have invited to meet our loved South African family.

Ron is planning a buffet dinner with Patricia’s assistance. John, a former Fulbrighter who has returned to Hungary, will be here with his partner Mike. Beth a current Fulbrighter will come over with her husband Bob. We will have a full house. This is a good thing and for this we give thanks.

Post note: John and Mike brought bottles of wine to share. Beth and Bob had bottles of wine in hand as well as a Bird of Paradise. Patricia and Don gave us a magnificently beautiful gloxinia. As a joke, Patricia, Ron, and I gave Don a marzipan pig. Dinner was wonderful, the sharing, caring and connections were amazing. Everyone had something in common with someone else, making it a great web of inter-connectedness. The whole group of us went to the New York Hotel to ogle. What a tremendous group of people we know and only because we moved here.










Here are some books by our esteemed authors, each and every one recommended reading. I would say this even if we did not love them. The books are incredibly good. Don is an editor/author/photographer for Getaway magazine focusing on Africa with an international section as well.

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