Hujambo! | Page 45 | Living and Working in Nairobi, Kenya

Kenya

Kuwa Mjuaji

Randi has taken to the streets of Nairobi with vigor. From the moment she arrived she showed prowess at navigating Nairobi’s busy streets, jumping out of moving matatus, and eating ugali (very thick corn flour porridge, a staple in Kenya) and vegetables with her hands. After we picked her up at the airport we stopped in town to get some pizzas. As we watched Randi weave in and out of traffic in front of us, one of my friends asked me if Randi had ever been to Africa before — she was surprised when I told her, “No!” In due time Randi will surely kuwa mjuaji (to be someone who knows… like to know the streets)!

Kenya

Lake Naivasha

Randi and I went to Lake Naivasha last night. This satisfied two items on our fake scavenger hunt: the Great Rift Valley and hippopotamuses. Here’s the funny thing, we don’t have pictures of either of them; you’ll just have to take it on faith that we actually went there. It’s sad, I know, but you’ll live. The Rift Valley does have some awesome lookout points as you descend, but they’re really touristy and I just don’t think I could handle it (plus, getting the matatu to stop would have been really embarrassing). The hippos only come out at night, but they stay a bit far away, and we’ve all seen hippos before, so I didn’t bother to capture any.

We arrived a bit late to the Fisherman’s Camp at Lake Naivasha, and by then the only room left was this ritzy thing for 4,000 shillings (about 60 US dollars), then dinner was also expensive. Oops. Well we had a nice time and saw some hippos wandering around at night. Lots of white people too.

Kenya

Tunachukua Mathree, And Other Lessons Learned

I’ve got a new zinger for my Swahili street lingo arsenal: tunachukua mathree (we’re taking a matatu)! In Swahili tatu means “three”, so a matatu in sheng is a “mathree.” This new response is way better than getting upset because, in addition to leaving everyone in the vicinity laughing, it establishes several things all in one go:

I’m not a tourist
I know sheng
I don’t want a taxi

I guess it’s a new tactic I’ve developed in the last few weeks, just in time for Randi’s visit. One thing that peeves me about being white in Nairobi is that everyone thinks you want a taxi. I’m pretty sure I’m a statistical out lier, but I really hate taking taxis. Unless it’s late at night or someone is dying, I’d rather take a matatu. Maybe I’ve turned over a new leaf, or maybe I’m just in a good mood because Randi is here; in any case, I think I’ve learned a valuable lesson.