Hippo viewing on Lake Navaisha

Easter Weekend at Lake Naivasha

This past Easter holiday provided four days off work and the opportunity for six of us VSO types to spend three nights at Lake Naivasha. It would be an action packed weekend, including a boat trip to view hippos and other wildlife, cycling and hiking in Hells Gate National Park amongst the zebras, buffaloes, warthogs and Gazelles, and hiking to the top of Mount Longonot, a dormant volcano. A nice relaxing and safe weekend, all in all.

It has been said that half the fun is getting there. While this might be true, it definitely seems like half the time is spent in getting there. Frank (from Holland) and I hiked Mount Longonot on the Sunday and it took about 5-hours travelling 50 km-return by matatu (mini-bus) and on foot to get from our Lodge to the park gates and back. The hike itself took about 4 ½ hours. I was prepared for this scenario, but I wasn’t expecting how crowded our matatu would get. These things are licensed to carry 13 passengers, but on Sundays the police aren’t out on the roads checking the vehicles. At one point they managed to squeeze in a total of 25 people (including driver and conductor) and I was starting to feel very claustrophobic. What saved me was sticking my head out the side window.

Once we reached the park gates the hike to the volcano rim only took about 45-minutes. However, after the first stage we still had a lot of walking to do as the volcano floor was 2 ½ km across and the path around the rim was 8 km. The hike was really worth the effort as we were rewarded with fantastic views and virtually had the place to ourselves. As an added bonus, I saw my first family of giraffes.

Our boat trip on Lake Naivasha to see the hippos was actually split over two days. We initially set-out on the Friday afternoon, not long after our arrival. Unfortunately, we weren’t far into it when a major rainfall began. Our guide offered to take us back to shore and try the trip again the next morning. We thought that he was just being really nice, but would later learn that when it rains he can’t see the bubbles coming from hippos that are under water (apparently, they can hold their breath for 30 minutes).

The boat trip the next morning was a great success as we viewed hippos lounging in the lake and a variety of wildlife (gazelles, Wildebeest, Waterbucks and lots of birds). The lake wasn’t very deep and we watched one hippo as it travelled across the lake by bounding off the bottom. The outing felt very similar to whale watching off the B.C. coast. The trip was coming close to an end and we were heading for shore. Suddenly the guide veered the boat sharply; he had spotted hippo bubbles. It was only after we had reached shore that he told us about his once being capsized by a hippo five years ago.

Hell’s Gate National Park is one of the few lowland parks in Kenya that you can walk or cycle through without a guide. When we came across four buffalo on the side of the road taking a great interest in us I wasn’t so sure this was a good thing. Frank and I decided to try our luck and go past them. I didn’t think I could go faster than a buffalo, but I figured I had a reasonable shot at out-sprinting Frank. We passed them with no complications. We also hiked through a gorge area further along in the park, but the highlight for me was riding the bike. My mountain bike I rented was too small, beat-up and not all of gears worked but it was the best machine I had been on in months.

It was great to hook-up with my VSO colleagues. We had all gone through a week of training together in Nairobi upon our arrival in Kenya and all but one of us had met during training in England. The lodge we stayed at was really nice with comfortable beds, hot showers and buffet meals included at a cost of about $50 Cdn/night. Lake Naivasha was heavily booked for the holiday weekend and we had to stay here because less expensive places weren’t available. I certainly wasn’t upset and wouldn’t mind going back there again some time.

Kisumu Market and the shores of Lake Victoria

The Bad Boys of Kisumu

When we first arrived in Kenya we were warned about the dangers of being mugged. An indication of this is that Nairobi is at times jokingly referred to as “Nairobbery” (or at least it was in my travel book). We were told that we should even be careful in Kisumu and not to be out walking after dark.

After being very cautious in the early going we’ve pushed the boundaries as we’ve come to feel more comfortable here. So far there has been no problem, but on Saturday night we were reminded that we should give these warnings their due respect.

After a couple of cold ones at the Police Officers Mess (what place could be safer) Cindi and I departed at around 9:30 p.m. for the 15-minute walk home. We hadn’t ventured far along a quiet and dark street when we passed by a soldier/policeman standing guard and holding his rifle. He was a fairly small fellow, but he had quite a big rifle. He called out after us and asked in a friendly voice why we were out walking at such a late time with no transport. He told us that we had to be careful of the “bad boys of Kisumu.” When a guy with a gun warns you about a danger I think it’s worth taking it seriously. Our walk home took us only about 10 minutes and we figured that the “bad boys” were less likely to come out in the rain.

The Bike Shop

I bought a bicycle a couple of weeks ago (more on this in the prior story) at the Nakumat (the big department store in town). While the bike came assembled it was not considered road-worthy so it was necessary to take it to the bike shop for a tune-up. The recommended bike shop was the same one that Frank and Cindi were sent to when they bought their bikes at a different store. In a town of 300,000 people which also has a whole lot of bikes I figured that this shop must be pretty impressive.

The bike shop wasn’t actually a shop. Instead, it is a guy in overalls working under a tree with a small sign attached to the fence behind him. He had a sitting bench and quite a few tools. He didn’t even have a bike stand. Given that my tune-up would cost 200 Kenyan Shillings (about $3 Cdn) what did I expect?

When I returned a few hours later the bike wasn’t quite ready. I could see that it wouldn’t be long so I sat on the bench in the shade. I’ve spent my share of time in bike shops, although never one like this. However, there was something I noticed that was consistent with bike shops at home. Besides the two guys working on the bikes there were three guys just hanging around, their mountain bikes lying nearby. The fact that they even had mountain bikes and not the ubiquitous one-speed World War II specials indicated that they weren’t your average cyclists. So there we sat, a bunch of cyclists hanging out at the bike shop, something that you would find in bike shops around the world. As different a setting it was and the obvious difference of me being a mzungu I still felt like this is a place I belonged.

My Bike

Having abandoned three bicycles back in Canada (amongst other things) it would seem logical that I would acquire a bike in Kenya. However, after not initially feeling any urge to do so I ended-up making the investment a couple of weeks ago. It’s a Diamond one-speed and although it doesn’t admit to its place of origin (likely India or China) it does state that it is “renowned all over the world.” Right!

I’ve only ridden the beast twice so far and I don’t feel any great urge to make regular use of it. I’m not exactly sure why but I have the following theories:
• It’s a tank - I don’t know what it weighs but it’s a lot. It doesn’t steer responsively and at any sort of speed it becomes apparent that the rear wheel has a bit of a wobble. I’ve only tried to stand on the pedals once and I won’t do that again. The breaks appear to work okay, but I wouldn’t want to test them on a steep downhill. Finally, the seat unexpectedly tipped upwards and nearly caused my singing range to increase. Of course, given that the cost of bike (purchase, lock and tune-up) was about $65 what should I expect? The Diamond cost less than one tire for my racing wheels back in Canada.
• Biker burnout – After years of training and racing on bikes I’m actually enjoying the break from it.
• What’s the big hurry – Cindi rides her bike religiously to and from work and it takes her just a few minutes. Meanwhile, it takes me a little over 15-minutes to walk each way. If time is of the essence this would be worth considering. However, given that the time evenings are quiet there isn’t a big incentive for me to diverge from my pleasant stroll.
• Where’s the buzz? – After years of playing hockey when I finally hung-up the blades it was not possible for me to get fired-up about going public skating. Leisurely gliding around the rink in a big circle had no excitement for me at all. I think the same is true for riding a bike. After years of training and racing in triathlon I’m wired to push the bike hard and to go fast. Peddling at a relaxed pace and smelling the flowers doesn’t get me cranked-up.

The bike sits hopefully in my bedroom waiting for the call. For how little its been used it looks amazingly beat-up. I had originally planned to leave it outside our front door, but the landlady said that it would be stolen. I really think she just didn’t like the eyesore because it would be pretty tough for someone to lift it over the fence. I suspect that I’ll put less mileage on the Diamond in a year than I put on my Devinci in a typical week last summer. However, at least I got my money’s worth.

You know you live in Africa when...

The following are a few examples of how things are different for me living in Kenya:
• My accounting group’s weekly planning meeting begins with a prayer. After reviewing the financial situation last week I contemplated suggesting a second prayer.
• A chicken has walked into my office two days in a row at approximately the same time. On the first occasion I commented to Bernard that the chicken didn’t have an appointment to see me. His response was that he was there to see Charles. I’m pretty sure he was joking.
• My 45-minute run is delayed at a quiet intersection while I wait for the cattle to be herded through.
• I visited someone’s home and noted that they have a stylish looking mosquito net over their bed.
• When someone tells me that they’ll do something by a certain time I don’t believe them. When it ultimately doesn’t happen I’m not surprised or even disappointed.
• I don’t even bother to inquire if I can access the internet at work. The bureaucracy isn’t worth the hassle and it probably isn’t really that important for me to learn about Kenyan accounting principles.
• I’ve almost stopped noticing the nightly barking of dogs…almost.
• The temperature drops below 25 Celsius and you see a few people wearing an extra layer of clothing.
• When I see a white person I think “mzungu” which is exactly what everyone thinks when they see me.

Paul Ranheim Rides Again

Paul Ranheim of the Calgary Flames cycled by me yesterday on a boda boda. Okay, it wasn’t the former NHLer, but it was his name I saw stitched on the back of the number 28 home jersey. It was actually just another boda boda driver transporting a fare on his bike. He certainly appeared to be working harder than the speedy winger ever did killing penalties for the Flames.

What ever happened to those clothes you gave to charity? Well, its possible that they went to Africa and were sold at a street market for a few dollars (depending on how well you bargain). An interesting pastime has been looking at the jerseys, shirts and ball hats worn by the locals. Although European soccer jerseys are most commonly found, hockey is indeed well represented. The pipeline is obviously from Canada as I’ve seen jersyes from the Habs, Leafs, Oilers and even the Winnipeg Jets. I saw one boda boda driver wearing an old Canuck “V” jersey which brought back memories of their 1982 march to the Stanley Cup Finals. Fortunately for him he was wearing their road jersey which isn’t as ugly as the old home yellow ones.

Local Candian teams have had their colours presented as well. I’ve seen team jerseys from Princeton, Yellowknife and Humboldt.. Of course the selection isn’t just limited to sports jerseys. There are plenty of t-shirts available from tourist sites, rock bands and basketball tournaments. I need to pick-up a few t-shirts but I’m holding off until I can find one that gives me extra entertainment. Who knows, maybe the next time I’m at the market I’ll find a shirt that used to belong to someone I know.

Getting Into A Routine

Kisumu is starting to feel like home. I’m getting into the routine of living here and I’m feeling less like a wide-eyed tourist. Still, there are moments that bring me back to the reality that I’m living in Africa. The other day after having my morning breakfast of cereal and brewed coffee (a local rarity and one of Cindi’s and my few in-house luxeries) I left for my 15-minute walk to work. It just felt like the start of another day at the office. However, there to greet me a few metres down the dirt road were three Maasai men. Unlike most Kenyans who dress in western clothing this tribe of people still tend to wear traditional garb. They have the appearance of fierce warriors and a look to them that says, “don’t mess with my cattle.” As I passed by them I smiled and said hello and they responded in an equally pleasant manner.

I’m also getting a good handle on the situation at work. The problems aren’t anything dramatic or unsolveable and in a best-case scenario I would have things cleaned-up and running smoothly in about six months. However, I recognize that the realities are such that I can only hope to make things better than they were. While my best-case scenario is still worth aiming for I won’t let myself be disappointed if its not attained. Although I’ve had some slow days at work, I was very pleased to discover that the game CD that I purchased before my departure includes the card-game “Hearts.”

On Wednesday I accompanied the partnership workers from TICH as they visited some rural communities that they work with on community health and development issues. I ended-up in Siaya (about half the distance between Kisumu and the Ugandan border) in a primary school class-room with local volunteer health providers. I could tell that they don’t get many mzungus (white-people) in the area when I got out of the back of the truck and had over 100 school-children staring at me. I took a few photos of the kids and showed them the result on my digital camera, much to their fascination. Later the school principal toured me to this shell of a room where their dream is to build a library. Like everyone else they just need more resources.

Security guard and Grace the librarian at TICH

Samaki courtesy of Lake Victoria

Friday Night in Kisumu

Frank, a Dutch VSO colleague living in a remote town near Homa Bay, arrived on Friday with his employer to meet with people from TICH to discuss future collaboration possibilities. Frank is stayed with us for the weekend to visit and do some shopping. Being the only ex-pat where he lives he went through a bit of reverse culture shock in Kisumu. He couldn’t get over how big Kisumu is compared to his town and how much is available in the stores. It was great catching-up with him and as we exchanged stories we realized how many new experiences we’ve had in a short period of time.

We went into town for dinner on Friday evening at the Lake View Hotel (I don’t think there is actually a hotel there) and later took boda bodas (bicycle taxis) to the Sunset Hotel for drinks and some local music. We were joined by Ugutu from TICH and later by Reverend Bondi. I should have inspected the boda boda bike I was riding on more closely because on the downhill section leading to the Sunset Hotel it came to my attention that we had no brakes. First, we hit a speed bump hard and my cell phone ejected from my pocket to the side of the road (it survived). Using my shoes as brakes I slowed us enough so that I was able to jump off the back of the bike and come to a running stop without losing my balance. When I paid my 30 ksh ($0.50) for the ride I suggested that he put the money towards brakes.

The music and the setting at the Sunset Hotel was worth the boda boda debacle. It’s a comparatively fancy place by local standards and sitting in the outdoor gardens drinking a cold Tusker beer was really pleasent. There have been times over the past few weeks when I’ve questioned my African adventure and wondered to myself if I’ll last six months, let alone 2 years. However, at times like Friday evening I'm content with my new path.

The Funeral

I went to my first Kenyan Funeral on Thursday. When someone loses a family member it is common for their employer to send representatives to the funeral to pay their respects. Beldina’s sister-in-law passed away so a group of us spent the Thursday afternoon at the funeral and burial in a village near Ahero, about a one-hour drive from Kisumu.

It appeared that just about everyone from the village was in attendance. Although the service was held mostly in the local language of Luo, there were some words spoken in English. It was an Anglican service and there must have been about 8 ministers orchestrating the event, with each taking their turn speaking. It was an open-casket funeral and we all passed by the coffin to pay our respects and to place a small amount of money in a basket to help the family pay for the service. The service didn’t seem all that different from one at home, with the most noticeable difference being women singing a variety of songs while the coffin was being buried.

I believe that the deceased woman’s name was Lorna, she was 32 and she died of AIDS. She had been infected by her husband who had died five years ago. Fortunately, they left no children.

Bring on the Calculators

Today was an exciting day for me as I finally got the right electricity converter plug for my laptop and I was also able to dive into TICH's financial records for the first time. From my preparation courses I was prepared to be patient in diving into things and much more tactful in dealing with people. That lasted about 3 days. Today I told my boss the Reverend, that I had nothing to do, I wanted to look at the financial records and, oh yes, I wanted to take over his office so that I could sit with the accounting staff. The Reverend is a great guy and holds an excellent prayer session. However, as Directors of Finance and Admin he doesn't have any background or interest in Finance. The Admin side of things is still to be determined.

This past weekend started off quickly as Cindi and I met with two Americans, Steve and Rachael, who are presently working in the region. The took us to an interesting local place for dinner and then hooked us up with Julius, their favourite taxi driver. That was certainly a hilarious adventure. Firstly, when we told him that we lived near the Hindu Temple he thought we meant the Hare Krishne centre. Not only were we lost, but his car was without doubt the most beat-up but working vehicle I've ever seen. The car couldn't come to a complete stop without stalling and was something that a homeless person wouldn't reside in. I now have Julius' cell phone number so that he can provide me with his excellent service the next time I need a cab.

On Saturday we took another transit option, the boda boda. This is a one-speed bicycle with a cushion on the rear. For about 30 ksh ($0.50) we got a 15 minute ride from the town centre out to a nice restaurant on Lake Victoria. We spent quite a while there with Steve, Rachel and two other VSO volunteers living in Kisumu: Ed an accountant from the UK and Milika a very, very excentric woman from Holland. We also got out to markets on Saturday and Sunday which was certainly enough stimulation for me for one weekend.

I've gone for one 45 minute run so far and got no more weird looks and calls than I normally do around here walking around. Kenya is a world power in distance running, but it doesn't appear that anyone around here is a runner. I was saying to the Reverend that Kenya seems to have 20 runners and they all go to the Olympics and Canada has many runners and no-one goes to the Olympics. There was a big sports day last week at the school behind our place and it was fun watching the hundreds of kids cheering on their school teams in soccer and volleyball. Although nothing too exciting, there always seems to be something going on.

The season of the long rains is upon us and although its still hot by my standards its a lot better than it has been. The rain has mostly come at night and I'm certainly sleeping a lot better thanks to it. We're still getting settled into our new place and have a few bathroom related issues to get the landlord on (the shower drain doesn't really drain and a toilet pipe is leaking. Its been to hot to eat in the evening so my only kitchen duties have been to boil water to put into the filter. A mosquito net is definitely necessary and I think we're going to be spending more time on roach reduction.