If smoking weed, growing dreadlocks, and listening to Bob Marley sounds good to you, you just might be a Rastafarian! There’s a lot more to it than that, but I’ll be damned if I ever meet a “Rasta” who can explain it without mentioning reggae music or marijuana. It’s quite popular here in Kenya, but after meeting dozens of self-proclaimed Rastafarians I still always wonder: do these guys know that Rastafarianism is a religion, or is it just what the cool kids do?
While its roots are in the Back to Africa and black nationalism movements popularized by Marcus Garvey in the 1930s, it has evolved into much more than just a “black hippie” movement. In a nutshell, Rastafarianism is a Judeo–Christian religion that purports the late Emperor Haile Selassie I of Ethiopia was the second coming of Jesus Christ (and therefore God incarnate). This and other Rastafarian beliefs are backed by verses from their holy scripture, the Bible.
The refugees who have been sleeping on my street have vanished. I came home a few days ago and was surprised to see all of their stuff was gone and they were nowhere to be found. The only thing remaining was one of the soggy cardboard boxes they used to sleep on.
Last week I went to Switzerland to visit my girlfriend, who is doing some coursework there for her Ph.D. It was great to see her, get some time off work, and tour around such a beautiful country!
Snow-covered alps, autumn forests, serene blue lakes, old city streets, cute houses, you name it—if it’s in your definition of “picturesque,” it’s in Switzerland. On top of that, the cities are clean and the public transit system just works. You almost have to see it to believe it. After a week of wandering around the only thing I could find wrong was that Swiss men seem to love wearing fanny packs (oh, and Raclette smells terrible).
Snowy mountains as seen from Gimmelwald
She’s living in Basel, the second-largest urban area in Switzerland. It’s a really cute town with lots of little coffee shops, old buildings, winding alley ways, and cobbled streets. From what I saw in Basel and Lucern, I assume most urban Swiss cities are like this. You can almost see royalty riding through on horse-drawn carriages and peasants selling vegetables on the streets. Also, is it just me, or does something about cobbled streets and old buildings conjure images of the Black Death sweeping through about 650 years ago? Haha!
Central Basel
From Basel, the Alps are just a two-hour train ride away. The scenery along the way was breathtaking. If you do anything in Switzerland, go to the Alps! I didn’t know much about Switzerland before my visit, but I knew I had to see the Alps up close and personal. I mean, who in the world hasn’t heard of the Alps? References to the Alps are everywhere (in American pop culture at least); I’ve even ridden the Matterhorn ride at Disneyland! I never did manage to find the abominable snowman, though…
Panorama from Mürren in the Swiss Alps
It’s sad but all great things come to an end. While the taste of Basel’s many doner kebab joints is still fresh in my mouth, Switzerland’s excellent transit system and clean streets have been replaced by annoying matatus and vumbi (dust). Now that I’m back in Kenya I have to get back into hustler mode. “Wee, unaangalia nini? Jisort au nitakusort.” (Hey, what are you looking at? Sort yourself out or I’ll come sort you out). Hahaha karibu Kenya.
