Goodbye Kigali; Hello Dar es Salaam. 12/27/2018
We spent our last night in our much downgraded room at Heaven Hotel in Kigali. Probably had we not experienced the other room we would have thought it was fine and definitely far more basic and African. But first we had our last meal in Kigali at Fusion – an upscale restaurant where we had great drinks, starters – seared scallops sitting on corn puree, bechamel, tomatoes, and a green apple salsa; some kind of eggplant wrapped around tomatoes, peppers, and goat cheese; followed by a homemade pasta with goat Bolognese; followed by the main course (we shared everything) – duck breast with tamarind sauce, butternut squash puree, oyster mushrooms, and bok choy; and for dessert – macadamia tart. All fantastic – and accompanied by South African wine… perfect ending for Kigali.
We headed out really early (after WhatsApping January – our new friend, the taxi driver) because we had a morning flight to Dar es Salaam (departing at 10 am) and no one ever knows how long it takes to get from point A to Point B. Had a really early breakfast at the hotel and bid adieu to Heaven. These days in each city have all been intense and naturally I wish we had more time for the whole trip and thus more time in each city. It’s a bit like deciding to come to the US and visit the Northeast – four days in NY, four days in Boston, four days in DC, four days in Pittsburgh and then the travel days to and from… We do, however feel as if we are packing it in and seeing a lot.
Our departure was as expected – many security checks before getting on the plane, including the first one where the entire car goes through a machine, sort of like a car wash; everyone is out of the car, including the driver. We all walk through a metal detector while the car moves slowly on the track. Then the driver gets in the car and drives about 100 feet and then we get back in. All of the luggage and even my handbag are left in the car as it goes through the machine. Then the taxi takes us as far as is possible (which is about a half block from the terminal); then our bags get screened – both checked and carry on; then we head to the counter to get the boarding passes and check one bag each; then we head to security where we take off shoes, take out computer, take off all jewelry including watches, and go through the full screening device; carry-ons go through the machine; then we go to customs and immigration where our pictures are taken again (we’ve had them taken as we enter and leave every one of the African cities we’ve visited – they have a whole picture gallery of us!; then just one more bag check and we are headed to the plane – a little prop bombardier.. and we are off. Passengers are a mixture of Tanzanians and westerners with Africans outnumbering westerners by two to one.
The flight is only two hours but there is also a change of time by one hour. We land at the Dar es Salaam Airport which is quite chaotic; we had grown accustomed to the orderliness of Rwanda. The bags are taken by workers as soon as they come out on the conveyor belt, so you have to sort through all the standing bags to find yours. We then head to an ATM and try to figure out yet another exchange formula. And I head to the actual money exchange because I still have about $50 in Rwandan money and an equal amount in Ugandan money (which I couldn’t exchange at the Rwanda airport). The bank person tells me that they can change my Ugandan money into Tanzanian money but they will not take my Rwandan money! OK.. then we head to a taxi to take us to our hotel – The Mediterraneo. It was a much longer drive than we imagined – about 75 minutes. So we began to wonder where we had decided to stay. The roads were filled with little outdoor shops selling everything and also hawkers taking advantage of intersections that get jammed with traffic.
We booked the Mediterraneo because it was the only African-owned hotel we could find in Dar, but we really didn’t understand the geography of the city. The Mediterraneo is a sweet place with amazingly lush landscape.. a pool (but of course we never travel anywhere with bathing suits) and it’s on the Indian Ocean (that we knew from the pictures on the Internet). The rooms are basic and fine. So we went to the beach front open-air restaurant at the hotel for lunch (pretty disappointing – sort of Italian). Then we settled into our room to figure out our plans for the next few days. As we researched where we wanted to go – markets, the famous fish market, the area where all the fabrics are made, the central downtown area, the national museum, etc. – are all quite far from the hotel – at least 45 minutes. We realized that most people here (including a large percent of the guests who are African) are here to vacation at the beach — stroll in the sand, sit by the pool, and wade out into the ocean. That was not our plan.
So, we made a decision tonight (after having to take a taxi for about 20 minutes to get to a dinner location that was just halfway toward the center of town) to relocate tomorrow – and head to a downtown hotel (which will likely be some big hotel – most likely the Serena, whose largest shareholder is the Aga Khan Foundation). But we will be close to everything, able to walk, and save lots of time. We remembered that we selected Mediterraneo because it was small and local, but unfortunately locally-owned and managed doesn’t mean located locally. We’d recommend Mediterraneo if you’re looking for a real vacation!
We chose a dinner restaurant based on distance – Thai Kana which is located in the “Slipway” – an upscale series of restaurants and little boutiques located on the waterfront, complete with a promenade that wraps the ocean for about a half-mile. It was a pretty lively area. Food was fine – not super memorable. It’s a combination sushi and Thai place. We then strolled a bit and settled on ice cream cones (I had saffron ice cream). The area was populated with a variety of foreigners (Scandinavians, Italians, Brits, us, etc.) and Africans – perhaps from Tanzania, perhaps vacationing from other parts of the continent.
We then needed to figure out how to get back to our hotel. We asked the restaurant to call a taxi, but they said there was a hotel right there and we should walk through that hotel and there would be taxis located out front. But then one of the waiters (or maybe one of the busboys) said he would drive us back. OK.. easy. And off we went. Guess the restaurant was slowing down as most tables were finished eating, so he was able to pick up a little extra money by becoming a driver for a short time!
Just a few notes about the climate:
- The weather has actually been surprisingly delightful, except if you’re in the direct sun; temperatures (until now) have been mostly in the 70s and low 80s with nice breezes.
- Today was the first day and first place where it is really hot and humid. It was about 90 when we landed in Dar, and the humidity is a killer. But tonight it was pleasant enough to eat outside and the breezes were really great.
- As most of you know, I melt at about 75.. I hate heat.
Oh, we’re back with British-style driving and pretty chaotic roads and driving. Additionally, while the Tanzanians drive on the left, they often have cars that have western style formats so the driver might be sitting on the right but driving on the left. Complicated
More tomorrow when we will hopefully be in the downtown area.
Best –
Fern
December 26 2018. Kigali on the Day after Xmas.
Greetings. Happy Boxing Day 2018
Well, the “retreat” part of the hotel was still fully booked, so we were moved to the “chalet” section this morning; but we were headed out right after breakfast so left our packed bags in our delightful room and figured we’d find out what the new room was like when we returned from being out all day.
Then we set out to meet Fatou, an architect who graduated from Columbia and who is a former student of a few faculty we know at Columbia. She met us at the hotel and off we went. Fatou has been living in Kigali for about 6 years. She grew up in San Francisco, Germany, and France. Her mother is American; her father is Senegalese. She tried to start a small firm in NY and then worked for the New York City Planning Department, (or maybe it was the other way around) and then decided to live overseas. She applied for a job with the Department of Housing in Kigali (she had never been there before). Although it took a year to hear back from the city of Kigali, she was eventually hired and became the Head of the Department of Housing. She worked there for about three years and learned a huge amount about how the city works (and also where it doesn’t work); she also built a lot of connections as she dealt with approving permits and working with the master planners for the city (who were from Singapore). For the past three years she’s been working with a Swiss agency (that operates a bit like a consulting company) finding ways to create affordable housing for Rwandans (and also works in Burundi and the Congo).
She drove us around the city, pointing out various neighborhoods and areas – explaining a lot of the contradictions of the city and the politics that drives decisionmaking, which was really fascinating. Until now, despite the fact that we had visited several marginal (informal – or as they say in Rwanda: “unplanned”) communities, we were stymied as to how projects get done, who does them, where funding comes from, etc. Then Fatou took us to the prototype house her group (that she appears to manage – 50 people, including 3 architects and many engineers) had developed as part of this Swiss initiative. I asked about the motivation of the Swiss to do this work and she said they really don’t want migrants coming into Switzerland. In any case, the prototype building was interesting. And then we drove to the first implementation of the project – 8 houses built in one of the “unplanned” neighborhoods (basically squatter settlements that have grown over decades).
It’s a really complicated process in that the government is trying to eliminate the unplanned neighborhoods (we saw scores of houses with red Xs on them – denoting that they would be removed and that the people needed to vacate. But where do they go?
This pilot project is an effort to show that housing can be constructed inexpensively and encourages local workers to create the materials needed for the housing. The Swiss project is mostly interested in creating jobs with wages that enable Kigali people to live better in their own city. To develop the house, people need to own the land. Unlike what I saw in South Africa, Rwanda appears to have completely documented every parcel of land and ownership is clearly delineated. At the moment these 8 dwellings stand out among the other houses in the area. The project has promoted the development of a brickmaking company as well as many other training of technicians. These houses are constructed of brick that is made locally, with cavities allowing for rebar and grout in critical locations. They are assembled in an interlocking manner that uses less brick and less mortar than traditional versions in the country and thus produces better results.
Fatou is obviously extremely proud of the project. People have already moved into the first units. I asked a lot about how others in the community feel about these very new houses and about financing and lots of details about the role of various international groups working in Rwanda, as well as what, if anything USAID is doing. We talked about various philanthropic efforts and also philanthropy’s role in Rwanda, as well as international efforts including Clinton Initiative. Doesn’t sound too promising to go that route. And, as suspected, the NGOs are all involved in social and health programs because that’s where the money is; not in doing much needed housing. And we discussed the role of the Chinese in Africa. My head is spinning with information. We also talked about the “umudugudu” program where everyone in the country volunteers within their neighborhood on the last Saturday of every month to work on infrastructure projects in their own neighborhood. There is also a clean-up day where everyone works to keep the city clean. These are mandatory programs. Some degree of budgeting is based on “performance standards” and if I understood it correctly, each little neighborhood (of about 200 people) has a “contract” which states what will get done in their neighborhood each year; that contract and the list of work moves up to some kind of a “cell” level and then to a ‘sector” level and then to a municipal level. The contracts are reviewed against actual performance. Everyone sees the ratings of all neighborhoods at the end of the year and it is embarrassing if your neighborhood is ranked very low.
That said, there is a cultural tradition of cleanliness which keeps the streets in every neighborhood – from the wealthiest to the poorest – unbelievably clean. Even those living on dirt and mud roads without any real sanitation program keep their roads and paths clean and litter-free. But the government has become very rigid and has full control. So edicts can come down very quickly and whatever is said, happens – immediately. For example, apparently the president came to see a new building and the city officials closed off two streets around the building for that day. The president said that the city was really nice without cars on those streets. So, immediately (the next day) the streets were permanently closed to traffic, even though the decision to close those particular streets didn’t really make sense, and it’s now caused some traffic problems. Similarly, the government is following the Singapore-created master plan and it is being followed – meaning that many properties are being torn down and property owners are being forced to create higher density housing which is costly for little property owners. The neighborhood we visited (where the new houses are located) doesn’t have real electricity (they tap into existing lines) and no running water in the shack-like houses. These new houses have electricity (which is purchased in advance by going to an electricity store or agency – you get a receipt and a code that you punch into a little device that plugs into the wall; when you run out, you get more) and running water.
We also learned that all housing for the “vulnerable” (disabled, etc.) is done by an “engineering brigade” from the military.
We made a short stop at a very modern library that has a rooftop coffee shop owned by a Rwandan who recently returned from living overseas. There we also got a good view across some of the other hills that make up the city. By the way, the city is lush with green growth – which to some extent sometimes hides the physical problems. But still, infrastructure is many, many times better than Kampala, and it is a delight to see organized driving with traffic lights, paved streets, and even lights that give the timing for how much longer it will take to change from red to green.
We returned to the hotel to have a drink and to talk some more.. and then we went to our much downgraded room But it’s only one night so we can make it work. We leave Kigali tomorrow fairly early in the am and head to Dar es Salaam. Tonight we will eat at the hotel’s Fusion restaurant – located in the Retreat part of the hotel. Hopefully we will be allowed in, given that we are no longer guests in that section and there is a lower key restaurant in our part of the complex!
All the best..
Fern
Kigali Christmas Day 2018. 12/25/2018
Muraho and Noheri nziza n’umwaka mushya muhire (Christmas and New Year Greetings in Kinyarwanda – Rwanda’s language)
Merry Merry –
Before going into our Christmas Day… a few interesting facts:
- The area where we were walking yesterday – Nyamirambo – is referred to as “California” (according to the taxi driver) because a lot of Rwandan movie stars live in that neighborhood.
- While there is less English (in fact almost none) spoken in the lower-income areas, the word “California” is well known.
- Kigali has car-free Sundays: on the first Sunday of every month main roads are closed until noon
- It’s considered rude to eat or drink on the street – not even a piece of fruit or a cookie
We began our day at the Heaven Boutique Hotel Christmas brunch; figured it would be difficult to find anything other than a hotel open on Christmas. It was fine, but frankly by the standards of the hotel design and the regular breakfasts we’ve had each morning in the smaller restaurant, we expected more. So now a bit about Heaven Boutique Hotel:
- It’s owned by an American expat couple (a little googling showed that he is a Yalie and has a PhD in public health from Columbia; she is a Wesleyan grad with MPH from Harvard. He had done some work in East Africa and was also a clinical professor at Columbia, heading up some sort of center on health initiatives operating throughout Africa; they came to Rwanda on their honeymoon and decided to stay and to attempt a social enterprise, believing that they could establish a “non-NGO” that included a business model to train locals while at the same time delivering extremely high quality services. They recognized that the tourism business would begin to grow as the years beyond the genocide passed.
- They have three birth children and adopted three Rwandan teens after their mother (who was their housekeeper died of AIDS); so now they are a family with 6 kids.
- Josh Ruxin (the owner with wife Alyssa) wrote a book about their experiences developing this enterprise and what they’ve learned living here in Rwanda.
- They started with a restaurant – having no experience with cooking (except that they seem to be foodies) and no experience running a business or training marginalized people. The restaurant was a success, and they grew it into this boutique hotel.
- The hotel is divided into three distinct spaces: the villas, the “retreat,” and the chalets (each appears to be set up as a separate “business” and staff is assigned one of these three “mini-hotels” – each has only about 10 rooms. The villas are the lower-end cost, the chalet rooms the mid-level, and the retreat rooms are top of the line). While you can walk easily between the three parts of the hotel there are separate entrances for cars. (A class system?) We booked online and didn’t really understand all of this, so we booked a villa room. When we arrived we began to understand the lay of the land and really didn’t like the villa room, so we asked if we could be in the area where we registered when we arrived (chalet), so they said there was a vacancy and we walked with a staffer to see that room which was clearly a nicer room – but as we walked through this middle section (retreat) we asked about those rooms and were shown the one remaining available room. We were sold! Only problem was that we could probably only have it for three of our four nights and would have to relocate on the fourth night. We figured we’d take our chances. Alas, we are now in the process of moving to a chalet room… which will be a downgrade.
- The retreat part of the hotel was designed by an Italian architect but built by Rwandans. It is impeccably detailed. In our retreat room we also have a private terrace, a private deck, and an outdoor as well as indoor shower.
- So this is how the hotel works: ALL staff are locals (mostly Rwandans, but also Burundians and other parts of East Africa); they are well paid and are trained to either remain at Heaven or to move on to jobs at the high-end hotels that are springing up (Marriott, Radisson, etc.) in Kigali as tourism grows. Staff are encouraged, and assisted, to attend college. Several have graduated already. Many take classes at night. While it appears that they are very overstaffed, it’s probably because people are a different levels of their training.
- Staff have been trained well to be polite, welcoming and thoughtful. Wherever you go, staff always greet you (in fact the walk from the room to breakfast involves about a dozen ‘hellos”…
So, we began our Christmas Day, following brunch, by reaching out to the taxi driver from the previous day (via WhatsApp), since he expressed interest in driving us to our destinations for a second day… and he replied that he was at a wedding, but he would send his friend, Jado, who had a blue car. Jado arrived quickly; his English was pretty weak, but we could show him where we hoped to go with the map we had. We wanted to go to local markets (add to the growing list of markets we have visited all around the world). And off we went – first to the Kimironko Market which is located in the far east part of the city and then to the Nyamirambo market which is near the area that was called California by January, the other taxi driver.
Here we saw more of the underbelly of the city – clearly people of much less means (both the vendors and the shoppers); the markets looked a lot like ones we had seen in India and also in Uganda. Photographing was tough; people asked for money if we photographed them (I understand we are taking their image, but I also know the mess that occurs if one pays to photograph – including the flood of people who suddenly want their photos taken, so my rule of thumb everywhere is to photograph people who are ok with it.
Along the way, at the Kimironko Market, some young women wanted their photos taken and I was pleased to comply… Then another person came up and wanted a picture too… They explained that they were in action movies produced in Rwanda. Although there was no English, we expressed excitement with meeting a “movie star.”
The second market was even more marginal than the first, but we walked through and got the lay of the land… chatting where possible and smiling a lot. Saying many times how beautiful Kigali was. One young woman who had a bit more English said she was sure that California was more beautiful.
Before we left on our market journey, we walked a few blocks (uphill) from the hotel to make a reservation for dinner that night – realizing that a lot of places would likely be closed for Christmas. We tried to call as did the hotel, but the restaurant didn’t answer. Given our experience the night before when we arrived at a closed restaurant we figured this made sense. We didn’t have a lot of options because of the holiday. We walked to Chez Robert and they were open so we booked. When we arrived at about 8:30 pm, we were the only guests. And they had this huge buffet. We opted for the actual menu; felt bad, but really didn’t feel like eating food that had been sitting there for hours. We ordered brochettes; it took about an hour for them to arrive (and we had quite a discussion with the waitress who spoke no English – but a little French). Anyway we explained we wanted the middle of the meat to be “red” – rare–fearing we would get very well done meat. When it arrived, the food was good. They had about 5 items on the dessert menu but didn’t have any of them. So we walked back to the hotel and had dessert there.
Now I’m signing off as we need to pack to move rooms. So much more to report..
Fern
Kigali, Rwanda — Full Day and Then Some. Christmas Eve Day. 12/24/2018
Merry Merry – It was a full day and then some.
We had a great breakfast (shakshuka done with African ingredients – all kinds of beans and spices) at Heaven (can’t believe they named the place this way… but it is so delightful that I think it could be quite appropriate. We are hopeful that our room will become available on the 4th night here so that we don’t have to pack up and get resettled for just one night. We shall see. Not that we spend much time in the room, or on our very private balcony or in our little private courtyard… Guess I know why it’s called Heaven.
We hired a driver for today (by the way they drive American style here in Rwanda – a pleasant break from the British style driving in Kenya and Uganda) initially just to take us to the Genocide Memorial Center, but eventually had him take us to numerous places so that we didn’t have to keep looking for taxis. A nice guy who somehow saved his money to buy a car and use it as a “private taxi.” His English is weak but we are all managing. His French is weaker, he says (not that that would do us much good as I’m certain his French is better than mine). Off we went to the Kigali Genocide Memorial – a critical stop to understand the country of today, which is so rooted in its very complicated past. The museum was built in 2004 and recounts both the early history of the country and the winding path to ethnic divisions and ultimately the systematic murder of 800,000 Tutsis by their Hutu neighbors (and in many cases their “friends”). This all occurred over a period of 100 brutal days in 1994. The memorial attempts and is successful at tracing the events of the genocide (as well as the mass burial ground located on the site, for more than 250,000 of the victims). The exhibit highlights the colonization of Rwanda and factors leading to the slaughter in both historic and very personal ways (with well-produced videos and interviews with survivors and relatives of survivors, as well as with Hutu families, and strong quotes and photos). It was humbling and appropriate to see all of the information translated into four languages with the type getting smaller with each translation and English being the smallest type font of the four.
But the Center does more than tell the story of the genocide. The exhibit is divided into three parts, with the first naturally being much larger than the other two.
1. The Genocide and what led to it; 2. The Children (huge blow up images of children under the age of five – with boards telling their names, ages, what food they liked to eat, what they liked to play, etc.; and 3. Other Mass Atrocities including the Holocaust, and genocides in Cambodia, Armenia, the Balkans, etc.
When you arrive and pay your entry fee, you are given a rose to place at the burial grounds as you exit the Center. It’s powerful. It was also well curated (although probably could use a little less text, especially since everything was translated into so many languages).
Prior to going to the center we attempted to get cash in various ATMs along the route (remember we had such a fiasco at the airport ATMs the day before). Well today didn’t prove to be much better. We stopped at three banks: two were out of order and the third didn’t have any money in the machines. The driver thought that perhaps the entire banking network was not functioning because so many people are trying to get money out for the holidays.. ??? So, after we left the Center, we headed to another bank. This looked promising, but alas the machine wasn’t working either. So we entered the bank thinking we could just go to a counter, but the lines in the bank were very long (last day before a holiday) and people were taking numbers to get service. We gave up on that and the driver said he knew a free-standing ATM on the way to our next stop. So we went into a little parking lot where there was a tiny structure with an ATM; we were third in line. But they ran out of money after the second person… fortunately the person who fills the machine came very quickly and we were suddenly cash-rich with Rwandan Francs.
We then headed to the Nyamirambo neighborhood, which the drive described as a “cheap place to live.” By the way, whenever we were in really nice neighborhoods with large houses and manicured lawns and lots of barbed wire, we would ask who lived in these houses and his answer was always the same: “White people.” He also said that many of the people in these big houses were diplomats from many countries. As we drove to Nyamirambo, he offered to show us the American Embassy but we declined. The destination we sought was the Nyamirambo Women’s Center – an NGO that works to combat gender violence by training women to sew and be able to support themselves. They have a sweet little shop with all the items they make on site: table cloths, pillow covers, bags, necklaces, placemats, clothing, etc. – all sewn.
Everyone was obviously happy to see us and for our many purchases. We talked with a few of the women and learned that the operation has expanded to give two-hour walking tours of Nyamirambo, and to host both basket weaving and cooking classes on site. While we were perusing the goods – we heard all these shrieks coming from the second sewing room next door; we were told that it was someone’s birthday and the tradition is to surprise the person coming from behind and to pour a bucket of water on them. I ran to photograph but the birthday girl had already fled to avoid getting wet.
We had told the driver to meet us back at the shop in two hours so that we could stroll the neighborhood and get a quick bit to eat. We asked one of the women for a good local place and she recommended Amurian (sp?). So we walked about four blocks, getting the flavor of the neighborhood, which is very heavily Muslim and reached a very large green mosque, turned left and found the restaurant. Food was fine, although it came with Ugali (the Congolese “bread” which is like eating solid starch – which you pull and use instead of a fork – sort of like injera in Ethiopian restaurants – but no matter how much you pull of the ugali it sort of reappears and reforms). We ordered two dishes from the menu, neither of which they had, and kept substituting until we found something that they could serve; I got Chicken peri peri and Mike got some kind of beef brochette. The young waiter was very sweet and a bit overwhelmed with having two Americans eating there. Getting the food took a long time. We wound up WhatsApping the driver to tell him we would need more time before we’d get back to the meeting place.
The Nyamirambo neighborhood is chock filled with little shops and people walking everywhere. From our little outside table we could see the neighborhood at work. From there we headed to a shop I wanted to visit because I had read that there was a young (under 30) female clothing designer who was listed in the 30 African entrepreneurs to watch. We meandered to her very tiny shop, but there was very little inventory and the clothing was definitely not as described. A bit disappointed, the driver suggested a craft market which we visited but most of the goods were not hand made so we opted to head back. Then, since we were in a bit of a shopping mode (and going to these different shops gave us both a destination and a chance to experience different neighborhoods), we (I) remembered that I had read that there was a brand called Rwanda Clothing.
The driver knew where their shop was, so we went there which was in a completely different part of the city. I actually bought a dress that is being altered and will miraculously appear at the hotel on Thursday morning (??) and Mike bought two ties. They actually had a lot of really nice stuff and they also can make things to order where you select fabrics, etc. But that would have taken too much time, because of the holiday. By the way, our driver’s name was January.
From there we headed to the hotel to navigate our dinner restaurant selection. We wanted to go to Poive Noir, which sounded fantastic. We had emailed them yesterday and they never responded,. Then we called and it didn’t go through. We asked the hotel to do it in the morning and when we returned at about 7 pm they said they had tried numerous times and the restaurant wasn’t picking up but they were certain the restaurant was open and that we should just go, So at 8 pm we got a taxi and headed to Poive Noir. In the car, both Mike and I thought it was interesting that no one thought that perhaps the restaurant would be closed. As we drove up to the restaurant that was indeed the case. We had read earlier about a smaller less gourmet restaurant called RePub (formerly called Republikan) so we suggested he take us there. I think he was relieved that we had an alternative and that he didn’t have to figure out what to do or where to take us.
Turned out that RePub was just down the road. We got there and they had just lost all their power.. but they said they had candles at the tables and that they were cooking since they didn’t need electricity to cook. We had a really good meal – starting with drinks and a snack of teeny teeny tiny fish that are breaded and fried and become very crispy… it’s the whole fish. We then had a goat dish and a fish dish with cassava leaves. Really good!!! and for dessert we had something called buzzy ice cream.. chocolate with some liquor I think.
We headed to our little home away from home.. and zonked.
Best for Christmas.
Fern
Trials and Tribulations of Travel in Africa 12/23/2018
Greetings –
While we had hoped to see yet more of Kampala on our last day in Uganda, we kept being warned that the drive could take anywhere from one hour to three hours to get from our hotel to the airport (although it is technically about a 30 minute drive). So we succumbed and hired a taxi to pick us up four hours before our flight boarding time – the taxi arrived promptly at 11 am (boarding was at 3:00). The drive from our hotel in Kampala to the airport which is actually in Entebbe is a distance of about 40 kilometers (25 miles), so the four-hour timing seemed ridiculous, but we already knew that it took us two hours in the other direction and that we had now experienced waiting at intersections for more than 15 and 20 minutes. There are no traffic lights in Kampala and they have these occasional roundabouts but they just seem to actually cause more jams as so many roads intersect at each roundabouts they become a total mess and create gridlock. So we began our driving adventure with the same taxi driver we had the day before.
The first five miles took two hours!! Mostly we are just sitting in the car stopped or crawling. We could have walked faster. It was also raining which added to the mess (at times hard rain, but mostly drizzling). Very few roads in Kampala are paved (except for this new super highway – Uganda version – which is only open for a few miles of the trip and once we got onto that it was full speed ahead, but that was only for about 6 miles or so), so there are enormous potholes and much of the time, given the rain, you’re driving in the mud. We used the time to do some car photography out the side of the window (which I detest for numerous reasons, but we didn’t have that much to do). We also became way more familiar with the driver. He is one of 48 children. Yes, you read that correctly – 48 siblings. His father had 8 wives (simultaneously). Six of his siblings have died. His father would have had many more children but he died at the age of 45. He knows all of the siblings but does not see them very often. They gather at the father’s grave once each year. This year 32 of the siblings were there for the annual ceremony.
The father would buy a small parcel of land, marry a woman, have children (or at least one child initially) and then the wife would tend to the coffee plantation on that parcel of land, as the father bought another parcel, built another house and set up another coffee plantation for that next wife to tend. So I assume by age 45 he had six coffee plantations. The driver only met his mother when he was 14-years-old. Clearly the children identify with the fathers. (That was true for Martin as well.. His father had 4 wives and there were about 15 siblings; we met and he talked a lot about his father, but never about his mother.) The driver explained that this was his father’s way – the children were raised by the stepmothers not their birth mothers.) Now we know why the vendors in the market think we must be sister and brother and they ask Mike how many wives he has. I guess you don’t hang out much with any of your wives if you are male in Uganda. So basically the father’s strategy was.. get land, build house, find wife, have children, expand coffee business.
Along the very slow drive we were able to catch more glimpses of life in both the city and the surroundings. We saw women in traditional dress heading to a wedding (getting messed up by the mud and wet by the rain), many matatus packed with people who were also getting nowhere in the traffic, and lots of goats. We also saw thousands of mannequins during both our walks in shopping areas and markets and along the road. They are obsessed with showing clothing on mannequins; some with heads, some without; almost all are white bodies.
We arrived at the Kampala Airport four hours after we started the 25-mile journey – exactly when our plane would be taking off. And we still had to go through all the layers of security – the car check, the scanning devices, check in luggage since it would be a small prop plane, more security, customs, etc. So were resigned that we would have to take the next and last flight out which would be 6 hours later. And not exactly a great airport with lots of accommodations to sit around and wait. But we got to the counter to see what might be possible.
The women were not too happy but said we could make the plane because it was late (not overly surprised) but they didn’t know if we could board because they might not be able to get the baggage on in time. For some reason this took a while and as we waited, one of the two Rwanda Air employees was rather annoyed that we were late, saying they will only accommodate us this one time. We were quite apologetic, explained the driving time (which she shrugged off) and offered to take the later flight if this was too difficult to manage. Alas, we were escorted through all the security channels and taken to the gate where we waited another 30 minutes before boarding! One note – about a mile before the airport the driver must step out of the car and be hand inspected (a bit demeaning in front of us sitting in the car); most passengers are asked to exit the car and go through metal detectors not hand screening. We were not asked to do this (although we had done it in Nairobi); we were the only Whites in cars headed to the airport.
Finally, we arrived in Kigali… the potholes are gone, the streets are immaculate, there are traffic lights and very orderly movement of vehicles. We took an “airport taxi” which was in a queue that was far calmer than anything at JFK. But before this, we headed to the ATM to get Rwandan Francs. They have a limit on the amount you can retrieve (just about $50) but you can do it multiple times … I did it twice and then the machine was out of cash. We then went to the airport bank and they said the machine was being re-filled. We went back and Mike tried but it was still out of money. We saw a second ATM (they are in little teeny buildings with doors that have advertising, so they are not so easy to spot) and Mike tried that one. It ate his card so back to the little bank who sent over a woman with a key who returned the card and then attempted to restart the machine.. but it was taking too long. So we just hopped in the taxi. The drive was amazing. It’s a very hilly city, located at 5,200 ft (like Denver?) and experienced the smoothest drive, the greenest road edges (all trimmed)… and lots of great views of the city.
We arrived at Heaven Boutique Hotel… more details on that later.. but it is an exquisite little paradise in the middle of the city… While we had booked the “villa rooms” when we got here we understood the differences between the three room types (villa, chateau, retreat). And so we upgraded to “retreat” – complete with our own outdoor (and indoor) shower, beautifully appointed furnishings… We are here for 4 nights (5 days) and the room is only available for three.. so we will have to move to the chateau room on the last night.. We are praying for a cancellation. I’ll take a better picture of the whole room later today… when the sun is out..
We settled in and then walked (!!!) to a phenomenal Indian restaurant – Khana Khawana – and had a feast. We hadn’t eaten since our basic breakfast at Humura.
In short, Heaven Boutique is owned by two expats (we think from the Bay Area) who hire only locals and are training them to be professionals in the tourist industry. All staff are African (from Rwanda, Burundi, etc.). They appear to be overstaffed (fine by me) and that is probably because they are all “in training”.. They also donate a portion of the rates from what we understand–to local NGOs.
OK.. That’s it…Tomorrow’s note will be about Kigali. We are super excited to see the city and understand more. It’s sort of good and bad that we are here on Christmas as it’s not as typical a moment in time.
On the racial front, Mike and I believe we saw six white people our entire time in Uganda (and that included the two of us); we have already seen more white people in Rwanda – from what little we could see at customs and at the hotel – Australians, Brits, probably some Americans, but we haven’t heard American English yet… )
All the best.. as most of you sit in that government-lite environment known as the US… We’re quite connected with Internet and CNN and Al Jezeera.. so we’re keeping up so as not to be in total shock upon our return.
Fern
Americans in East Africa: Kampala, Uganda 12/20/2018
Greetings –
Got a bit of a late start today and had breakfast at our little hotel. Pretty standard fare except for all the local fruits which are wonderful. Then we each did a bit of work (we both brought a lot of work to do and finally got to tackle a little) as we waited for Martin Kamya Muwonge, a local Ugandan architect who was a classmate and friend of our godson and his wife when they were all students at Antioch in Yellow Springs, Ohio, decades ago. We reached out to Martin only a few days ago so plans were a bit iffy.
Martin remembered to bring along a photo of himself and our godson at Antioch, which we all laughed about.
Martin arrived at the hotel (with his driver) at 11:30 and we began a day-long journey winding up and down Kampala’s many hills (some controversy over how many hills there are – Kampala likes to say it has 7 hills like Rome, but in reality there are about 20 or more, which appear to divide up neighborhoods and have some degree of difference as to who lives where. But first we spent time on the terrace at the hotel getting acquainted and providing updates on family. Martin was born in Kampala but his father moved the family to Nairobi (where he had gone to school – he’s an architect too) during Amin’s period and later lived in London – returning to Uganda when the country gained independence and appeared to be more stable. While in London, he worked for the UN. Martin went to school in Nairobi and his father thought he should go to university in America. There are apparently 15 siblings (8 brothers and 7 sisters) – all professionals, living literally all around the world from Albuquerque NM to NY to Alberta, Canada to Nairobi to Kampala and more. Martin is the oldest, I think.
Anyway, somehow he wound up at Antioch, a somewhat unusual university selection, but he clearly has extremely fond memories of school, teachers, friendships, and more. During his years at Antioch (which was based on a co-op program where students were off-campus one semester each year at a variety of work and life experiences), he managed to live and work in numerous parts of the US. But he decided he wanted to be an architect. After graduation he went to live in London for a year and then did the graduate program in architecture at UCLA. He worked in LA for a few years, and then returned to Kampala where he works with his father. Martin provided an interesting look at the city – from the eyes of someone who truly loves his country but who knows he exists as a privileged member of its society.
We headed to Zone 7, a local bar/restaurant located in a neighborhood called Mbuya. Naturally, Martin knew everyone. We had a traditional Ugandan meal (although Martin stressed that Ugandan food is not very interesting and pretty bland). It was bland, but quite good – plantains, bitter greens, pumpkin, something that tasted like polenta, beef, chicken, an okra-like eggplant, and chapati (the Indian influence is everywhere in Africa). We then drove around to see more of the Kampala layout, and then went off to meet Martin’s father, whose own story is quite interesting. We also talked a lot about the role of the US in Africa, building construction, planning (or lack thereof) and family. His father is renovating his own house (the one that Martin grew up in during his early years), so he is living at a hotel that he and Martin apparently developed and own.
Then we moved on through the unbelievable traffic that is apparently an everyday event. Obviously there are thousands of people on motorcycles which can bypass some of the traffic — especially when they jump onto the sidewalk and make that yet another lane.
Like in most developing nations, traffic jams are a wonderful opportunity for entrepreneurial poor folks who hawk everything from toilet paper to screw drivers to water to fruit as they pass between the cars (which are actually already very very close to one another). These products are carried in a variety of ways, including on one’s head. We also passed a strange processional of young men with the leader in painted white face and skeleton followed by about 10-20 young men drumming while they marched. Apparently this is a processional for a circumcision (the white painted young man being the subject of the circumcision)….
We discussed education (similar issues to South Africa and to what we heard in Kenya), health care, transportation (mostly private), planning, women’s status (making small advances, but still very much in the minority in the professions and in seats of power), and more as we meandered (or rather were stuck in traffic trying to meander) neighborhoods. And no discussion would be complete without the topic of corruption, which is everywhere from the police to the judges to every level of government and about bribes to get projects moving ahead. And we talked about Martin’s love of the L.A. Lakers, and local music. We also discussed the role that China is playing throughout Africa and its decisions about investment in the infrastructure of most cities (smart move).
In conversations with both Martin and his dad, it was interesting to see how knowledgeable and aware they were about American politics and American life. They are avid CNN watchers so we talked about the Mattis resignation, the government shutdown, the stock market, and more.
Tomorrow we are hoping for an early start and will head out on our own to two different markets (one of which they say is so chaotic it is difficult to find your way out). Martin was a bit concerned about our safety but we assured him we’d be fine. Then we are likely to head to the Uganda Museum – which includes a center that houses all NGOs dealing with women’s issues and sells crafts made through local NGOs. The museum is apparently pretty weak in the area of museum design and layout, but we shall see. Hopefully we will meet up with Martin in the early afternoon and drive to Lake Victoria.
All my best –
Fern
Goodbye Nairobi, Hello Kampala. 12/19/2018
Greetings –
Somehow packing and unpacking just ruins travel! But we got it all done and left the hotel to get our flight to Kampala.
Took taxi (by the way, many taxis in Nairobi have wifi – so they ask if you want the password. Amazing. I don’t think we have that in the states.) The drive to the airport was quicker than predicted, but a bit of a mess in that the security system is quite complicated:
About two miles before you approach the airport, all vehicles are stopped; passengers must exit the vehicle; drivers move very slowly and then stand by the vehicle. Everything and everyone is searched. Passengers go through a little building with a scanning device.. Vehicles move through some kind of scanner as well. Drivers meet passengers on the other side. No vehicles (not even taxis or buses) can get within about a half block of the actual terminal. So we said goodbye to the driver and to Nairobi and entered the airport.
There our bags were screened at the entrance; we proceeded to get our boarding passes and yes, to actually check one bag each. We weren’t in any priority section and the plane was small so we decided doing all carry-on wouldn’t make sense; also no jetways. Got boarding passes, checked the bags and then went through screening.. computers out, shoes off, nothing at all in pockets, not even paper. Full screening. Then we headed to the gate. Another screening. And finally we wait for the plane which was naturally late. Boarding was a bit chaotic, but once on the plane it was fine. They didn’t have any air conditioning turned on in terminal, nor on the plane until we actually started going. So it was pretty hot and sticky.
The flight was fine, a little bumpy. Landed in Kampala, bags were searched again; got money from the ATM, picked up the bags, and headed to a taxi stand. Then the fun began. We would be staying at a small (24-room) hotel (Humura Hotel) which is locally owned (we tried to keep the money flowing within each country, but we also knew that meant a bit of a drop in luxury). It is just 25 miles from the airport (which is actually in Entebbe, a totally separate city from Kampala). A quick check on the phone showed traffic and that it would take 55 minutes. Fortunately the taxi was a comfortable four-wheel drive and the air conditioning worked. Only problem was that it had tinted windows so I had my side window open the whole time. It was also clear that rain was imminent. The drive actually took 2.25 hours! And the poor driver had to return to the airport after dropping us off. And wifi in the taxis here too.
There is a new road that is under construction; a fast highway from Kampala to Entebbe. But it is only about 30% complete. Thus, for most of the drive we were stopped dead in traffic until several enterprising drivers sort of made a new road in the mud – a sort of service road – and our driver opted for that. It brought us closer to the little shops along the roadside, which enabled me to photograph along the very slow and winding drive. It started to rain – a lot – so we were really just coasting on mud that was draining from the other real road. Eventually he had to drive up some mud to join back in with the main road.. Rain just kept coming.. really strong at some points and then more drizzly at other points. And then suddenly we were on the new road/highway which was obviously so new that the toll booths weren’t even installed yet.
We arrived at Humura and were warmly greeted and shown to our room.. It is a small little complex (of course we have our own guard on the property, but he seems pretty low-keyed and hangs out near the parking area. Our room is sweet, a bit basic, and not everything works 100%.
In the first hour or so as we were settling in and deciding where to go for dinner (and hoping the rain would stop), the power went off about three times (fortunately only briefly each time – 15 minutes or so). The wifi connection also went down, but we were told that is because Kampala is laying fiber and it’s not done yet (??). The sliding closet doors are wood so they don’t really move too well and there’s only one hanger… But all is good. I went to the reception area to discuss options for dinner. They kept suggesting Italian restaurants. I said we’d really rather have some African food. They eventually suggested a Ugandan home cooking place in the downtown but suggested we go for lunch rather than dinner for “safety reasons”… We said we’d be fine, but decided to head to a game restaurant last night because it was closer to Humura. I think we may be the only guests. We taxied to The Lawns which would be easily walkable if there were direct roads and if it wasn’t so hilly. The Lawns is a meandering restaurant (not so many tables, but on many levels) – all outside. We opted for a middle level table (only about four tables per level). The menu was a bit eclectic, but we had a great Moroccan stew and an order of assorted game (crocodile, ostrich, wildebeast, kudu). Lots of potatoes come with everything. We had drinks and good Ugandan beer. Taxi returned to get us and we settled in for the night.
One quick impression – the roads actually seem to be in better shape than in Nairobi and lots of traffic lights. But traffic is as horrendous as it was in Nairobi. We’ll know and see more tomorrow. We are meeting up with a local architect who went to college with our godson. Should be interesting.
Fern
Americans in Nairobi 12/18/2018
This morning we opted to return to Java House, where we now are familiar faces; two visits and we are regulars!
So after walking back to the hotel to figure out our day, it became obvious that rain would be coming soon. Thus we opted not to walk any where and that maybe we should be real tourists for a day.. or at least a little like real tourists. We decided to rent a driver and head to the neighborhood known as Karen (an upscale area north of the center of town where we were staying). We used a driver from the hotel because we figured we might need the car for at least six or seven hours. The driver (whose name escapes me) was quite knowledgeable and was able to relay a good deal of information and was quite conversant, once he realized our politics. So despite the fact that the drive was long, due to the incredible number of cars, matatus, and buses and trucks choking the air and trying to move from place to place on inadequate roads, we had a good time.
During the drive we discussed local politics (corruption), schools (inadequate unless you can pay to go to private schools of some sort) – 50 students to a classroom, insufficient supply of text books – much like what I witnessed in South Africa last year.
The driver was – in many ways — a typical Nairobi worker – grew up in a rural area focused on farming, with minimal support for schooling but like everyone else saw Nairobi as the dream for a job with potential. We also talked about the role of missionaries in Kenya, historically. He had an interesting line: “The flags follow the crosses…”… meaning that first the missionaries come and then they are followed by the colonizers, with the missionaries making it easier for the colonizers to “set up shop.” We talked about salaries and how one gets by; we discussed the situation in the slums, and we talked about the Kenyan Constitution and the structure of the government. He says they copied the US Constitution.. which actually sounds true.. They have a president and two official houses that make up the legislative branch. One includes one member from each “county” within Kenya; the other is based on many many sub areas within each “county.” He says the problem is that he thinks they copied the constitution and didn’t really tailor it enough to meet local needs.. and we laughed and said that we felt that after more than 200 years it was time for a new constitutional convention and a new constitution for the US that would consider how much things have changed..
We also discussed the land issue which is a complicated and essential topic in African cities. Apparently, the government is beginning to crack down on illegal development on public land. As a result several shopping centers and other buildings have been torn down. Greedy developers just move onto properties and start building. Historically, no one said anything and the buildings got occupied and that was that. Not clear this effort will change things much, but it’s seen as a start.
We headed first to Tamambo, a wonderful little café on the coffee grounds of the original Karen Blixen estate (more on that in a bit); service was incredibly slow and we worried it could put a dent into the very long list of things we wanted to see and do. After lunch I headed to the Kazuri bead factory to see the bead-making techniques and check out their on-site shop while Mike got dropped off at the Giraffe Center where he was determined he would “kiss” a giraffe (apparently you get some kind of pellet of food and stick it between your lips and the giraffe comes over and slobbers over you and grabs the food). Did not sound like something I needed to experience.
So, back at the bead factory. There was a ‘mandatory’ tour which proved informative and also disturbing. The bead center was started by some religious person who wanted to help unmarried mothers. Now, some years later it’s a thriving enterprise with at least 70 workers (mostly women – and the women make the beads; the few men working there make the mugs and newer items they have added to their portfolio). When I went inside the first building (really a series of huts) everyone was singing a religious song – it was Christian but they were singing in Swahili, and then there was a prayer. Apparently this happens twice a day. The bead-making process is very rote and the women have strict quotas they must meet each day. They do rotate the jobs.. two days you are making the clay beads; two days you might be putting the holes into the beads; two days you’re involved with the firing; two days painting (based on a very strict pattern and color scheme you are given); two days involved with firing once the colors are on the beads; two days stringing the necklaces.. etc. etc. Turns out that Kazuri has established quite an enterprise with orders from around the world.
Meanwhile, Mike got his wish in that he fed the giraffe, but didn’t do the pellet in the mouth deal. (For images of Mike feeding the giraffe, you need to contact him directly)
By now it was pouring and we were glad we hadn’t decided to walk.. From there we went to an amazing craft store to check out the wares… Many really spectacular things, but pricey and too much to carry home.
Then we headed to the Karen Blixen Museum. (This is the “Karen” for whom the whole area is named and nearly everything around is named Karen something.) Karen Blixen is the Danish author of “Out of Africa” – goes mostly by the pen name Isak Dinesin. The museum is actually her house – the one depicted in the film version with Robert Redford and Meryl Streep and the one described in great length in the book. The grounds are quite wonderful and many of the artifacts in the house pointed to an independent woman with big ideas. Apparently she left Kenya after 18 years to return to Denmark, never to come to Africa again even though she lived another 30 years. For some time the house was rented out and then after her death the Danish government bought the property and held onto it, hoping it would become a historic place of interest. When Kenya became independent, the Danish government gave the property with all of its artifacts to the new nation, which has clearly invested in preserving it and promoting it as a destination.
After all of these stops, we headed to Talisman, a much recommended restaurant (in Karen – down a small side path and rocky road). We told the driver to go home to his family (two daughters and a 4-month old son) and that we would find a way back to the hotel. He seemed pleased with the arrangement. And it was now really coming down, with lightning and thunder.
Talisman was a pleasant surprise – a “gastrolounge” in an old farmhouse with meandering rooms for the bar and the restaurant. Crows was a total fusion of Nairobi (albeit, missing poor people). Following drinks (I’m now really into these “dawas” we headed to one of the dinner spaces. The menu was totally eclectic – we opted for samosas, Moroccan spiced beef, and also the ostrich dish (great!) and couldn’t resist dessert – chocolate malva (sort of mousse with a champagne orange curd). The house and each room had several fireplaces, which was good because the rain was unrelenting and the spaces were sort of open… and clearly no heat.
We fetched a taxi back to the hotel to pack… It was an intense 4 nights and 3.5 days. All good. Highly recommend a trip to Nairobi.
Fern
Americans in Nairobi 12/17/2018
Salamu Kutoka Nairobi (Greetings from Nairobi)
Hope you are well.
While it is only the end of our second day here in Nairobi (third night), we are packing so much into each day, it feels as if we’ve been here for at least a week.
So a few observations and comments and then some descriptions of our adventures today.
- Very few people assume we are from the US as it’s clear there aren’t too many Americans coming to Nairobi to stroll the city; true there are probably many Americans here in Kenya – but they just stop off in Nairobi to prepare for safaris. Thus we are a bit of a rarity. Taxi drivers, shop keepers, etc. all ask where we are from. Oakland or San Francisco don’t prompt any real recognition; California prompts some small familiarity, but mostly we are sticking to the big picture – “We’re from the US”
- Being from the US brings an immediate response – “Obama!!” which easily leads to a few fist bumps and smiles and comments like “good president” – which leads to the Trump comments: “bad president!”
- Workers leave their houses at about 5:30 am every morning in order to be at work by 8 am; they need to avoid the likely traffic jams which would make them late. They travel on “matutus” – little vans or minibuses that take passengers (for low fares) from outlying slums and low income areas into the central area and other destinations. They operate 24 hours a day and have distinct routes. They are very crowded and not in great repair. Until recently these matutus were privately owned but we were told that the government recently took them over because the drivers (owners?) kept threatening to strike which would truly screw up the “functioning” of the city. Some of the matutus boast portraits of famous people; music is generally being played on the vans — I think this attracts passengers.
- Again, because not many Americans seem to be here in Nairobi several people think we are from Iceland – not sure why they chose that country, but they are surprised when we respond in the negative to that question.
- Women are clearly much friendlier than men (although the taxi drivers – all male, I think – are also quite chatty if you engage them).
- We’ve been asked if we’ve been anywhere else in Africa and people are surprised we have traveled in Africa several times before this trip, and perhaps surprised we have returned.
- When we explained to one taxi driver that we were planning to visit a bunch of different neighborhoods and then listed a few, he said “So you are going to see both sides — the poor and the rich..” True.
- Very little evidence of Christmas here; in fact, other than the market selling some handmade little angels one wouldn’t know the holiday is just around the corner.
We bypassed the hotel breakfast this morning and got out into the streets; walked about .75 miles to the Java House which is like a Starbucks with a restaurant menu. There are Java Houses all over the place. We obviously stood out a bit as the only White people in the place, but everyone was either friendly or totally ignored us. Our waitress explained that Java House was started by an American couple in the 1980s and after opening a few stores sold their ownership to locals who have expanded the “chain” – She was quite proud of the operations with 60 shops and more coming, including expansion into Uganda. I guess it is the Starbucks of Africa (by the way, don’t think there are any Starbucks here – so Howard Schultz, watch out. Interesting, since there are Starbucks all over Asia and Latin America).
After breakfast, we walked to the Maasai Market which takes place only on Tuesdays. The walk was pretty straight forward, except for crossing multi-lane roads without any pedestrian walkways or traffic lights (there are very very few traffic lights in Nairobi); it’s sort of run for your life. Our trick in these situations here and in other developing nations is always: find a group of locals trying to cross the same street and get in the middle.. when they move, you move!
The Market is filled with craftspeople selling their wares. The sellers probably outnumbered the potential patrons 30 to 1 so there are a lot of men trying to tag along with you as you meander the “stalls” (really just goods on the ground and the seller sitting on a chair nearby).
The market had some nice things, but we’re conscious of the fact that we need to think about packing and also we are so early on our journey… bound to find other things. From the market we walked back to the hotel (and into another world)… to just freshen up and head to the “shantytowns” or “slums” where the marginalized population of about 2.5 million live.
Enroute back we stopped into the University of Nairobi, which is located down the street from our hotel. It’s a typical large public university – Getting onto the campus wasn’t so easy; and like all the students we needed to show identification and go through a security check. Mike joined some students on a bench as I checked out the bookstore. By the way, there are signs all around the University that state “University of Nairobi is a corruption-free zone”
We knew we needed a taxi to get to Kibera (the largest of the slums – housing about one million people, although no one really knows the count). I had a conversation with the woman at the desk at the hotel – I explained that we wanted a “street taxi” to drive us to Kibera and then to wait to pick us up; we would walk around for about 90 minutes. We knew it would not be possible to find a taxi in or near Kibera to bring us back into town. And we also knew we didn’t want a hotel taxi.
She was quite sweet and understood, but explained that the hotel could not do this; they are only allowed to call for official taxis, or take us by hotel car. Their “taxis” are fancy cars (including Mercedes), so we opted to walk around the neighborhood to find a taxi and do our own negotiation. We actually only had to walk across the street to find a bunch of cars waiting for passengers. We explained what we wanted and the driver, Julius, was most accommodating, although he was a little nervous about our walking through Kibera on our own. Like all “visits” to areas of this sort, it’s challenging. You stand out as an outsider on more levels than it is possible to describe. But we insisted and Julius said he’d just wait for us in a designated location. We walked and chatted with a few people and realized once again that slum dwellers may be the most entrepreneurial people in the world.
People in Kibera earn just a few dollars a year; there are virtually no services; and education is hard to come by. We did however see that there is a strong movement against violence with campaign-type signs everywhere pushing for “peace” and against all forms of violence. Interestingly this is the only place in Nairobi we didn’t see police or guards or machine guns. We also saw a lot of signs about HIV protection. According to the research we did, Kibera has one of highest rates of HIV in the world.
The “shops” in Kibera are about 10’ x 9’ at most; they are built of mud or tin or random pieces of found wood. Electricity is gerry-rigged and water is all but unavailable. Garbage collection is very infrequent, if at all. And raw sewerage is evident as you walk through the town. Supposedly there have been recent reforms and experiments and education in Kibera is supposed to be the best of all the slum areas. Still, we strolled for more than an hour and never saw a school. Kids loved to speak with us and loved having their pictures taken. With the adults, it was once again the Obama connection – once they knew we were from the US. Amazing!
We rejoined Julius at the taxi at the appointed location about two hours later, and headed back to the hotel for a drink.
Tonight we were planning to eat at Amaica, some kind of fusion African restaurant we read about. But we wound up having dinner at Nyama Mama, because Amaica was closed for the holidays (very difficult to find these things out in advance!). Still we were set on eating African food, so this place seemed to make sense. It was fine, but not great. Crowd was very mixed.
Fern
Americans in Nairobi – 12/16/2018
Sawa (Hello in Swahili)
We’re on our annual winter travel trip: Nairobi, Kampala, Kigali, Dar es Salaam, and Zanzibar. … an overview of East Africa’s major cities.. No safari! We saw the Big Five at a reserve in South Africa some 15 years ago. Been there; done that. Only kidding. Still we made a conscious choice to ignore the animals (along with the related cushy accommodations and the great food). That said, Mike is thinking about going to see the gorillas in Uganda. We shall see. If he does, that will be without me.
The trip was tiring. SFO to Frankfurt to Nairobi. We are at the Fairmont Norfolk Hotel. Somehow between October (my last overseas travel, just two months ago) and December, the rules changed. US now photographs each passenger in addition to triple-checking passports. We were both in business class, but somehow not seated together. But it was one of those flat-bed flights and the seat configuration was 1-2-1, so it really didn’t matter much. Service on United was pretty terrible, so we were happy to switch to our Lufthansa flight once we got to Frankfurt.
We had only 60 minutes to change planes, and naturally our gate was .9 miles from where we landed. We had only carry-on bags (yes!) which meant lugging them through the long airport walk. Naturally since it was Frankfurt, we had a 10-minute bus ride within the airport from our plane; the long walk; a train ride to the terminal; had to go through security again (German side) and the lines for that were unbelievable. We ran and then just hoped for the best. But alas, although we got to the gate totally out of breath, but on time, only to discover that our departure was delayed and delayed. We finally took off about two hours late – postponing our arrival in Nairobi from 9:30 pm to 11:30 pm (Sunday).
The Nairobi airport is pretty “basic” without any of the cushiness we find in US and European airports and even in some North African airports. Naturally, the jetway didn’t work so we were left with stairs.
Upon landing, we were greeted immediately by armed guards with machine guns (Hadn’t really seen that since Ecuador – I think); and another photo for the Kenyan Airport folks. I feel like my photo is now everywhere. We headed to an ATM machine and then looked for a “somewhat legitimate” taxi. We arrived at the rather snazzy colonial-style Fairmont Norfolk at about 1 am. The hotel was built in 1904; it’s a sort of hidden gem with its elegance and understated charm. The hotel, just like most restaurants, shops, businesses, public buildings, etc. have tons of security – and lots of men with machine guns; not sure they really work. So to get into the hotel (and all the others) the taxi has to stop at a barrier while we sit in our seats – two guards come to open the car doors to “inspect;” mostly they look at the floors and in the glove compartment and the trunk; then the car moves to another arm that has to be lifted and we get out. Then we go through a screening process (airport-like) and then you’re inside the hotel. Frankly, I don’t think any of it works because today I forgot to take my cell phone out of my pocket and no alarms went off. One of the interesting things is that everyone you talk to or meet – from taxi drivers to front desk hotel staff to shopkeepers – assumes you’re in Nairobi to go on a safari (Guess that’s what foreigners do). So they just ask what day you will leave for your safari or if you liked your safari. I think it’s like assuming that everyone who comes to California goes to Disneyland. So they are all caught off guard when we say we are here to see their city.
While we were exhausted and wanted to sleep – we opted to unpack and head for the hotel’s delightful bar for night caps. And then we crashed. By then it was 3:30 am. This morning we got to actually see the hotel. The grounds are truly beautiful and the location is great. Lots of gardens…but right in the center of town. We opted to have breakfast at the hotel so that we could get an early start checking out Kenya’s capital city – home to about 6.5 million people. Following a great breakfast, we decided we needed a real street map of the city in order to figure out where we were and where we’d head. This is actually a difficult thing to find. Finally the hotel suggested we go to the “text book center;” the hotel is located just across the way from the University of Nairobi. Naturally, they thought they should take us there; but we assured everyone we were fine walking to the shop. We did get a map (two in fact), although they look used and really worn. But they will work.
Then off we went for a most interesting day – to the top of the KICC (Kenyatta International Conference Center) – a strange 28-story building built in the early 70s when the country became independent. It is one of the few buildings with a viewing deck where you can get an overview of the city. Of course, lots of security every step of the way, plus signing in and out and giving up your passport while you’re inside the building. The elevator takes you up to the 27th floor and then you climb up the thirtieth floor which is really the roof. The air was not very clear so we didn’t get quite the effect we hoped but we did get a sense of the city’s form, including some very large parks at the outskirts.
We strolled (a bit of an exaggeration since you’re always watching your every step when you walk in most cities in developing nations because the sidewalks are always chopped up and there are always uneven steps and unexpected barriers) to have lunch at the Thorn Tree Restaurant – a patio café that has fed everyone from Hemingway to Gregory Peck. It’s got an eclectic menu – from Indian to Italian. We opted for the former. Interesting we keep asking about good, local cuisine (Kenyan), and everyone sends us to Nigerian or Ethiopian restaurants. We also tried the restaurant’s famous drink – the dawa – vodka, mint, lemon, and honey. Quite good. No surprise, no one really knows how to tell you how to get anywhere. The Thorn Tree (located in the Stanley Hotel) has been in the same place for well over a century, yet shopkeepers and guards, and others cannot tell you how to get there, even though it’s within a block of where they are standing.
Following lunch, we searched for a taxi (not wanting to use taxis at hotels because they are really spiffy and sterile and I think the drivers are trained on how to answer questions so as not to get into any heavy dialogue). Finally we found a group of drivers with taxi “medallions” on the top of the car and walked up to one – explaining that we wanted to go to the Africa Heritage House (which we had read about) and which is located adjacent to (or perhaps actually within) the Nairobi National Park. We knew it was in Mavoko (or Mlolongo) which was about a 20-minute drive. Got into the car (as the driver removed the “medallion” from atop the car) and off we went. Before this, the driver (in Swahili) was clearly asking the other “drivers” for directions. Traffic was horrendous. In the end it took about 1.5 hours to go 20 kilometers (12 miles), but the drive took us along the edges of several shantytowns so once we left the CBD it was interesting. At one point when we were just stuck sitting in traffic I contemplated heading to Marg’s Hot Hot Hotel.. which was on the route!
We stopped numerous times for the driver to ask for directions again and again. We were a little surprised since we thought this was a major museum. However, as we meandered on the road to Mlilongo we began to wonder why a museum would be so far out of town. We rationalized that they had probably chosen a tranquil location in the national park. But as we approached a dirt road (naturally with a gate and a guard), we figured we were there. We were. But , it turns out, it is not really a museum, although it should be.
It is the private house of an American (Alan Donovan) who has lived in Kenya for more than 50 years; he came in the 60s with the US State Department, during the Biafra/Nigeria war. He fell in love with Africa (initially Nigeria while on a trip to a small village of craftsmen) and with African art and artifacts; left the State Department, and settled in Kenya where he became best friends with the first Vice President of the country, Murumbi and his wife, Sheila. Anyway, as we approached this spectacular mud-dabbed building designed by Donovan and based on the architecture of three different African cultures, we realized this was a pretty special place. But, they said we could not enter because we had not made the proper arrangements. Indeed, we had not made any arrangements. Apparently you need to book a tour in advance. You can also book lunch at the house. Of course, my NY-style surfaced immediately as I explained what we each do to the man at the house (who was clearly an assistant to, and not, Mr. Donovan), and explained we had made a special trip to see this place. I think he realized that we weren’t leaving, so he told us to wait and he went to speak with Donovan. During the time he went to speak with Donovan, we meandered gently into the house but there was so much to take in. This guy had collected amazing artifacts and also nurtured the careers of scores of then-young African artists to develop profitable careers. He also founded several African bands and Afro-jazz groups.
The Kenyan assistant reappeared and said that he would do the tour because Donovan could not, but that we would hear Donovan’s voice on this tape recorder that he carried from room to room and area to area. At the end of the “tour” which began at the railroad tracks (built by India) adjacent to the new tracks built by the Chinese government which defines the edge of the property and from which you get two spectacular views.. one of the house and the other of the vast national park where the major big animals still roam. It’s the area where the wilderbeast migrations took place annually (until recently).
I photographed pretty consistently on the ‘tour”.. (about 285 images in the 90 minutes), but this sample hopefully gives the story.
At the end of the tour, we met Alan Donovan who has been ill for the past year. He apologized for not taking us on the tour personally – and we chatted for a time. The house – in all its splendor – and his astute eye for both contemporary and ancient African tribal artifacts brought up old issues for me: the dilemma of making “little ‘a’ art” into “big ‘a’ art;” private ownership and commodification of art; etc. At the same time, it is clear as one traverses Nairobi, that there is little acknowledgement of history and of the amazing contributions of tribal cultures and their forms. So at least someone is protecting these artifacts. The good news is that it appears that Donovan (Murumbi and his wife are deceased and he credits Murumbi with the idea of this kind of preservation and also economic development through craft and art) has plans for the house and its content after his death. He has approached the Obama Foundation!! And offered everything to them – as a total donation, on the terms that they preserve it as a place to retain African culture. He’s also offered that the Obamas can visit and stay at the house as frequently as they’d like. We shall see… Interesting politics there!
We returned to the hotel.. and again traffic was horrendous. After a very brief time at the hotel, we headed to an Ethiopian restaurant in the Westlands neighborhood. Food was great. Lots of students from Nairobi colleges.. It too, was down a winding dirt path.
We returned home to our little abode at the Norfolk at about 11:00 pm..
Best –
Fern
Fern's Travel Notes 