

Standby for news from Kenya before Christmas.
Just a few weeks to go on my Kenya adventure, and home in time for new year!


Standby for news from Kenya before Christmas.
The perfect mango?
In Lamu I'm staying literally 30ft from the town market. A short stagger brings me to the fruit stalls early each day, but how to pick the perfect mango? Too ripe and they are too mushy and too sweet, but too early and they are hard, and tart beyond compare. The perfect mango is firm, yet foregiving to the touch, and judging this requires moments of careful handling, weighing, and contemplation; discussion and negotiation with the stall owner ensue. The perfect mango is both tart and sweet, if such is possible. Once sliced away from the pit, cubed against its skin and folded open, the yellow flesh becomes a sensual delight into which one dives face first, to emerge minutes later,hands, face and facial hair covered in delicious mango juice that requires a second face wash of the day.
Believe me its hard to get it just right, picking the perfect mango, and there's the issue of the strands of mango flesh that stick between the lower teeth...... so you see the problem, right?
Digo elders perform at Lamu Festival
Transportation - problem?
In Lamu there are no cars! I mean, how can you call yourself a town and have no cars, its the 21st century for christsakes. So with no cars here, no trucks, no buses, well it means you walk everywhere, walk ... remember walking! In sandals, or barefoot even. People stop in the street, greet each other, go to the bakery, the market, to the docks, to work, on foot.
There's no traffic jams, no road rage, no speed bumps, no traffic calming, no exhaust. They do have a transportation system, its donkey! Donkeys! the place is positively biblical!
These guys have a problem! Weird dude!
Kenya time - no problem
The program said 'Kasida from Mombasa' 20:00-22:00, 'Praful Kumar -Bollywood Music' 22:00-daybreak. So down to Mkungani Square in good time. The square in front of Lamu Fort is hardly crowded, in fact but for a few expectant mzungu tourists who cluster around seats under the jacaranda tree, the usual mix of full time square hangers-on and lingering youth, its pretty deserted. On stage, there is evidence of preparation, but its clear, nothing is imminent.
Not being one for waiting patiently, I head back to my room. I'll hear music strike up - I'm within easy earshot. Ipod on, I fall asleep easily in the warm evening breezes. At 22:00 I wake to "hallo, check, check" repeated over and over. At 23:00 I wake to music, but too comfortable to move, i listen from my bed! only to fall asleep again. Just before dawn I come to, the strains of Bollywood music in the air at 05:30. This part of the festival timing at least is accurate, they really are playing to daybreak. A few tunes later, mercifully it closes down, just in time for the roosters and the call to prayer. I wonder what the residual negative effects of listening to Bollywood music all night might be. Speaking in subtitles?
So these are some things I wouldn't have experienced on Dysart Rd in mid November, but the one I'm missing on Dysart today is Kims b'day, so have a good one darlin' - see you for new years. with love - H
we haven't had city water from the taps in a month(rain barrels are a blessing),
once one computer is fixed, another one goes down, the internet flickers on and off,
power comes and goes, and comes again,
the driving habits are deranged, and 'slaloming' is accepted to avoid potholes,
the poor are many, for whom each day is a struggle,
to 'eat' means taking your cut of whatever you can, from top to bottom of society,
the population has grown 50% in the past ten years,
unemployment/underemployment affects a similar percentage,
women are still an underclass, the 'big' man syndrome lives,
those who succeed are obligated to assist kin and friend alike, or their name suffers,
the forests are under immense pressure for farming from the growing population,
tribal rivalries and tensions are not far from the surface, the body politic strains as a result.
however....
On the weekend I was invited to a Kenyan wedding in Bungoma, 40kms from Kak. Beatrice, the mother of the bride, works part time for CHES, and her daughter Joyce was a student in the program years ago. The day started on Kenyan time with the arranged bus transport leaving Kak an hour late. The road to Mumias was smooth/rare, and then to Bungoma, typical Kenyan / check your fillings. The first stop was the house where the bride was readying for the event. Sodas and buns came out for the visitors and before Joyce could leave for the church, David the groom and his best man had to present his dowry to Beatrice for approval. (In this case it had been all prearranged, but there are stories of dowries being turned down on the wedding day, and hours of negotiations taking place before the wedding can go ahead – fun!). While many of the trappings were common to our church weddings, the singing/chanting/ dancing of the womenfolk attending was worth the journey.
To say that our bus 'rocked' from the house to the church is an understatement, with the aisles filled with Luhya women in full call and response rhythm, and again as the bridal procession entered the airy, Anglican, St Crispins Bungoma. Thanks to 'Mama' Beatrice for honouring me with an invitation after only a months friendship.
And to finish off, I had the great good fortune to attend the National Festival of Music for schools and colleges held in Kak a few weeks ago. There were hundreds of students from across