Kenya, Rants

Tribalism is a touchy subject in Kenya — I don’t even think it’s politically correct to use the word “tribe” anymore. Besides the fact that it’s a bit condescending from an American English connotation, I think we’re supposed to use other words like “ethnic groups” or “communities” instead. In Kenya it ranges from petty nepotism to violent xenophobia. Before you start thinking, “Those Africans are a bit stupid/savage,” go look up the words nepotism and xenophobia and you’ll see it’s nothing unique to Africa. Maybe it’s human nature, because I am feeling a little guilty lately.

I spent nearly the last two years living in a town called Tala in the Kangundo district of Kenya. That district belongs to a region which was/is historically known as “Ukambani”—named so after the tribe who has historically lived there, the Kamba. There are forty-something tribes in Kenya, so you can imagine there are regions all over this country where tribes have lived for generations (basically small countries). There exceptions, but each tribe generally speaks their own language, listens to their own music, prays to their own god, has their own ceremonial foods, traditions, etc. Well, that was true until the white people sliced up Africa for themselves and forced their culture on the continent, but now everyone wears dresses, jeans, high heels, and listens to Lil Wayne. The only things left are names and languages, and that brings me to my point!

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Kenya, Music

About two weeks ago I moved to Nairobi to start my new job. I live in Nairobi’s Westlands suburb but I commute daily about twenty-five minutes to a small town called Uthiru. The first difference I noticed from Tala is that the predominant language is Kikuyu, whereas in Tala it was Kikamba. I’m not worried, because I’ve learned enough Swahili, and everyone speaks that one in addition to their mother tongue. The one place you’ll notice the change in language right away is in the local music. It seems that every ethnic group in Kenya has their own distinct style of music.

I never liked the music when I was in Tala, but I miss it now. Every bicycle taxi, small shop, or matatu always had these beats on the radio. I’ve heard that this music is pure matusi (literally “abuses”), but of course I don’t understand one word they’re saying! The most famous Kamba artist is a dude named Ken wa Maria, so if you wanna hear more just Google him up. I don’t know any famous Kikuyu musicians yet, but their music is easy enough to find. Enjoy!

Kamba Music

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Animals, Kenya

No, scorpions are not furry. Neither are snakes. I guess some spiders are, but now I’m bringing back too many memories from Tala. I don’t think those wild animals will be bugging me any more now that I’ve moved to Nairobi. Instead, I have two wildly energetic dogs constantly disturbing me, Peanut and Mascha. Peanut’s probably a black lab and Mascha is… furry. My roommate recently inherited them when his mom passed away, so last month he flew back to New York and arranged to have them brought to Kenya. They’re a great addition to the house, and I’ve missed having dogs as pets (since the only other interaction I’ve had with dogs was them chasing me in Tala while I was carrying groceries on my bike. On a bumpy dirt road. At night).

Peanut, the black lab
Peanut, the black lab

Peanut is the friendlier of the two, but he’s also the youngest and a bit more excitable. He likes to come sit on my bed when I’m on the computer in my room. If I leave for more than a minute or two, he’ll jump up and run to find me. The other night he was sleeping on my bed and I didn’t want to disturb him but I wanted to sleep too, so I just climbed under the sheets. I kicked him off the bed in the middle of the night when he refused to scoot over and was hogging all the blankets (and I was starting to get cold). I don’t think he took it personally because he still runs to greet me when I come home from work in the evening!

Mascha is from Russia… she’s furry and used to the cold, so she likes sitting on the tile floor. She’s a very interesting dog. Sometimes I walk into my room and find that the sheets are disheveled. I’m not the messy type so it left me wondering the first few times until I caught Mascha red handed once. I watched her hop onto my bed and start peeling the blanket and sheet away until she had revealed the sweet, soft inner sheets and was finally happy to sit down. She’s very eccentric, just like her owner (my roommate). He even speaks to her in Russian — I’m not sure what he says, or even if she understands, but it’s pretty hilarious and gets her revved up.

As I sit writing this Mascha has wedged herself in between the wall and the couch where I am sitting, and has rested her head on my foot. Haha, crazy dog…