Kenya, Rants

I was shopping in Nairobi for some new clothes this weekend and a few things got me so frustrated. First, haggling is ridiculous. For whatever reasons, we just don’t do it in the West. The idea is that you, the person selling the goods, want to maximize the sale price. The other idea is that you, the person buying the goods, want to minimize the sale price. See the problem?

The other other idea is that there is a fair price somewhere in the middle, one where we both win. The process begins when the buyer asks the price. The seller, thinking to maximize, will usually give a price somewhere above what the buyer wants to pay, so the buyer counters (usually eloquently) with something more like what he wants to pay. In my experience the seller is always offended (sometimes genuinely, other times it’s just a tactic). The logic I can’t wrap my head around is this: the seller gives a ridiculously-high price and the buyer names an equally-ridiculous low price. As the buyer, I don’t expect him to actually accept my first price, and I expect us to strike and agreement somewhere above, so I pick something significantly below where I want to pay.
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Kenya, Rants

My name is “Alan,” and if you don’t know my name, please just say, “Hi!” or any of the other greetings you use on your fellow Kenyans. Jina langu si “British” or “mzungu.” I don’t know what your parents told you, but I don’t think white people like being called either of those names. In fact, in America, it’s borderline racist to yell someone’s ethnicity or nationality at them. You don’t see me walking around shouting “Kenyan!” at people.

I know it’s not a huge problem, but I walk two kilometers to the market every day; it’s like a gauntlet. People on the left yelling “mzungu,” on the right saying, “British, how are you?” and mamas instructing their babies to look at me, pointing openly. Sometimes I’ll even pass a group of high school boys and that is pretty intimidating (they’ll say things in groups that they’d never say if they were alone). I used to get annoyed and say things like, Mimi si British (I am not British) or “I am American” until I realized that, even if I was British, that’s no way to greet a person!

These days I usually just say Jina langu si mzungu (my name is not mzungu). This at least prompts some productive dialog like, “Ni nani?” (it’s who?). The little kids honestly don’t know any better, so I just smile and wave, but the teenagers should. After all, it’s considered a bit abusive to call other Kenyans by their tribe. Wewe mkamba, kuja hapa (You Kamba, come here).

To be honest, I used to get offended that they thought I was British (not that being American is anything to brag about)… but I don’t think they can tell the difference between someone who comes from the USA, Sweden, Germany, etc. It’s understandable, though, because I can’t tell the difference between a Kenyan and Ugandan or a Tanzanian. Funny enough, I’m almost positive a Tanzanian would be upset if I called him a Kenyan, so it’s a good thing I don’t go around calling people by their nationality.

Oh well, we all need something to complain about. That’s just life. Thanks for reading.

Kenya, Pictures

I went to a wedding on February 28th. A friend’s cousin was getting married so I tagged along. It was a huge wedding and I helped out with moving some stuff and taking pictures of my Kenyan “family,” so I don’t think anyone noticed that I was just along for the free food. The bride and groom were lookin’ good, and the wedding was set near Lake Naivasha. I’d been to Naivasha before but we didn’t stay very long, and it was during the night so we never got to see the sights!
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Check out the rest of the photo album here: http://thefro.org/gallery2/v/2009/wedding/