Hujambo!

I never liked using the “I’m gonna walk away” tactic when you’re haggling for prices. It seems so cheesy and fake. Can’t we just skip the pretense and talk serious business? You know, business where you name a fair price and I counter with another fair price? Maybe you give me a price which is so fair I just take it without any contention. I guess those days are over, or it’s just all about getting lucky and ripping people off these days. In any case, I’ve found the “walk away” is a relevant and useful tactic to use in small business transactions. This is especially true in situations when there is one consumer and many suppliers: getting a taxi.

For instance: I know the price of a taxi from Westlands (around the Mall or Sarit Center) to my house on Church Road should be around 200 Kenyan shillings (three US dollars?). They don’t know I know that, so they always inflate the price a few hundred shillings. Because I know the price is 200 I just walk away and all the other taxi drivers start yelling at me to get in theirs. Of course this maneuver scares the crap out of the original guy, who immediately comes running after me yelling, “Kuja twende!” (Come, we go!). I never meant to scare the guy out of a sale, I just figure that any of these guys can offer me the same product so why should I waste my time telling the guy, “Wee, si mbali. Church Road ni hapo tu!” (Man, it’s not far. Church Road is just there!).

This is even funnier because I hate taking taxis and I think haggling is ridiculous! Sometimes you just can’t avoid it, though, and I think I might actually be getting better at it!

There was a big huzzah in Kenya a few weeks ago when pictures circulated of two Kenyan men in the UK getting married. I got the e-mail from a colleague at work and had assumed it had made its way around ILRI, but then I saw it being actively discussed in several editions of print and online media. It’s safe to assume the e-mail made its way to every single office-working Kenyan in Nairobi now that I think about it. I don’t own a TV but it was probably even on the evening news.

The subject of the e-mail was “Dunia inaisha” (the world is ending), which is pretty hilarious. That’s like the Obama haters who said jihad will come to America if he is elected president. Now imagine my surprise when I was walking through Gikomba (the hawkers’ market) and seeing this camoflauge-color hat with the words “Gay Marriage” written in pink text. Hahah! I had just bought a pair of used Converse, a t-shirt, and a pair of shorts, when I came across this awesome hat. I snapped a picture of it real quick before the shop keeper saw me, but then I just had to ask him, “wtf? Will anyone buy this in Kenya?” Maybe he’s a supporter of gay marriage (in which case I should have bought the hat), or more likely, he just picked it out of a bin wherever it is that he gets his wares.

A “gay marriage” army hat makes about as much sense to me as American flags being made in China. By the way, extra points for anyone who noticed the old school San Diego Padres hat in the same picture…

I saw something funny today. I see funny things most days actually, but I’ve been meaning to write about this one. According to the stickers on the window inside this matatu, not only is it driven well, it:

• Does not carry excess passengers
• Is operated by respectful, caring, and neat crew

Lucky me! But of course, who am I kidding? They can’t fool me; this matatu is dirty, slow, uncomfortable, and it is completely kama kawaida (as usual). Ok, it’s not hard to find a matatu obeying the watu 14 (14 people) law, but then you get whiplash because the driver thinks he’s qualifying for the Indy 500. Or, your driver is competent but the makanga (conductor) is rude and or over charges you. Let’s just be honest with each other: there is something wrong with every matatu in Kenya.
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I haven’t been on hiatus, I’ve been on holiday! Actually I’ve been working a lot, but I did make it across the border this past weekend for a little rest and relaxation. One thing I realized during my 24-hour stay in Tanzania was that my Swahili is permanently Kenyanized. I’ve already accepted that I’m nowhere near fluent by Kenyan standards, but I’m a disaster by Tanzanian standards. You see, after their independence Tanzania embraced Swahili as the national language in order to unite their country as a common people, no longer colonized and no longer a collection of tribes. They were Tanzanians now! Kenya chose both Swahili and English, and while people here speak Swa, it’s kinda a watered-down, Englishized version (“sheng”). Kenyans even make fun of Tanzanian Swahili; it’s a chore, it’s boring, and it even sounds funny. And I know it’s terrible, but I do too…

To back up kidogo (a bit), I went to Tanzania to get a new visa; both Kenyan and Tanzanian. My one year, multiple entry Tanzanian visa expired earlier this year, and my Kenyan one is due for mid December. Sure you can go to the embassy in Nairobi but that’s no fun! Border runs are fun! Besides, Arusha is only five hours away, so it’s like living in San Diego and going to Mexico to eat tacos for dinner. Besides, I’m a local in Arusha by now. I’ve been there two times before so I’ve got the hang of which hotel to stay in, where to eat, and how to get around. I’ve always liked Arusha because it’s a mid-sized town with lots of local life buzzing around at night; finger food is plenty and cheap, and I’ve never felt unsafe there.
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I’ve talked before about how surreal running around ILRI during my lunch break is. Two or three days a week we go jogging around the countryside surrounding the ILRI campus. Rain or shine, we strap up and run through the little towns of Uthiru and Ndambuini, on through the quiet village of Soweto (no, not the slum in South Africa), and down into a small valley filled with streams, cows, corn fields, and local dudes. You hear people speaking Kikuyu, Kiswahili, Kikamba, and then some little kid yells, “Mzungu!” and you remember, “Oohh shit, I live in Kenya.” I have gotten so used to this life that I do it without even thinking. I know I’ve written a lot over the past two years, so you guys must have some pictures in your head of what my life is like, but I also know that a picture is worth a thousand words.
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