Kenya

Kenya

Less-than-average rains this past year mean Kenya’s hydroelectric dam at Masinga is bone dry, forcing the government to start rationing electricity. There are so many reasons why failed rains suck (not the least of which is a pending famine), but here’s one I haven’t heard anyone talk about: how does an electric security fence work without electricity? You see, in addition to security guards, every private compound has a wall around its perimeter, topped with either broken glass or a few rows of electric cables. How are those fences going to zap intruders if power is cut from 6 AM to 6 PM three days a week? That’s not to say I’m worried about my security (I live on the fifth floor of my building, behind a bullet-proof door), it just seems like it would be a serious concern to some people.

The lack of rain is agitating in other funny ways too. For example, it’s hard to wash your hair when there’s no water in the house. This is, of course, a complication of the government’s other new rationing program: water! The worst-case scenario here is sleepily assuming you’ll be able to take a quick shower and snoozing your alarm, thereby grabbing an extra thirty minutes of sleep before work. This is fabulous until you wake up and crawl over to the shower, only to flip the knob and watch an anything-but-impressive stream of water dribble out. It’s happened to me twice in the last week! By the time I capture a pot of water, heat it on the stove, and wash my hair with a cup another half hour has passed and I’m cursing myself for nabbing those extra Zs… but they are always so sweet, so there is a good chance I’ll do the same thing tomorrow morning!

Kenya, Rants

I don’t want to go see the lions in Masai Mara. And while we’re at it, no, you can’t shine my sandals. I’ve said it before and I can’t reiterate it enough, being white in Nairobi is annoying. I don’t know what’s wrong with white people in Kenya, they’re either too rich or too lazy so they zip around in taxis. Well I’m not rich or lazy, so it annoys the hell out of me when I’m walking in Nairobi and taxi drivers relentlessly ask if I need a taxi. I’ve been good lately, but I know enough Swahili to be pretty rude to those guys.

I guess it varies with my mood. For instance, yesterday was Friday so I wore jeans to work and everyone was a bit relaxed. I was meeting my friend in Nairobi for coffee after work, so I was feeling good. I had just been laughing and enjoying the evening when some guy offered me a taxi. I simply told him, “Si endi mbali” (I’m not going far), and I guess he liked that because he responded, “Poa, asante sana, ndugu. Karibu.” (cool, thanks alot, brother. You’re welcome.). hat’s how it’s supposed to be, and I always feel bad when I diss ’em.

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Kenya, Rants

It’s one thing to be white living in a rural area, but it’s another thing to be white and live in a rich suburb of Nairobi. I spent the last nearly two years living in Tala, where I was one of the only white people. It wasn’t hard for me to make myself at home, my current roommate was even teasing me the other day because I behave like someone from the shamba (farm) — shopping at the budget stores, eating boiled beans and chapati on the side of the road, speaking Swahili, etc. I guess I spent a lot of time learning to be mwenyeji (a local): becoming an expert at local trivia, food, language, geography, you name it. Now that I’ve come to Nairobi I realize the black–white dynamics are different than in Tala, mainly because there are more white people here. White people — Kenyan or foreign — don’t interact with the blacks as much, and they tend to zip around in taxis or private cars, go to separate dinner parties, clubs, etc.

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