<b>Day 21</b>

I don’t know what I did in the morning. I probably just walked the streets and fought with a computer at some Internet caf&eacute;. For some reason, I decided to have lunch at Savannah in Loita Street. There was something very wrong with the Greek salad. After a while I knew what it was – there were no tomatoes in it! I didn’t catch the attention of the waiter until after I’d finished the very deficient salad. Then I ordered a cappuccino, which is a stupid thing to do when you don’t like coffee. I got two biscuits as a compensation for the missing tomatoes.

Back at the Terminal I started searching for my ticket. It was Wednesday the 9th of July and I would be leaving on the 12th – Saturday. It couldn’t be true. I needed to find proof that I had a week or more to find a way to stay. I found a paper where I’d listed the days and left space for animal sightings and other important notes. Of course, I hadn’t written a word and that’s why I’m writing this report from memory, but on that paper the 12th was on Sunday! Unfortunately I discovered that I’d counted with 31 days in June and then I found the e-ticket. I decided to start doing something serious about Nyamera Kenya Imports at the same time as I was looking for a way to stay.

I hopped on a matatu to Westlands and then I walked the whole length (not that long) of Woodvale Grove to find Undugu, but the shop apparently wasn’t there. After asking a man in the street I was shown the very visible sign and entered to have a look. The jewellery wasn’t particularly interesting, but there were some nice bigger house ware items like bowls and baskets. Though I didn’t want to pay for having them shipped to where I didn’t want to return. I bought some organic fair-trade sun dried pineapple. Maybe it would be better to sell something edible, but I haven’t ordered anything.

Then I went straight to Banana Box at the Sarit Centre to have a look at the jewellery that I’d been interested in for myself, but decided that I didn’t need. As it was sold at Banana Box, I supposed it was fair-trade. The trademark was Africa Speeks and there was a website written on a label. I checked the website at the expensive Internet place on the top floor, but there wasn’t any contact information. I had to fill in my own contact information and the website didn’t look updated. Then I think I had a look at some shops and Uchumi supermarket where I didn’t buy any cheese this year.

When the shops had closed, I decided to have dinner at the food court at Sarit Centre. The vegetarian thali at Funtime had lots of delicious dishes, sauces and breads that I wouldn’t know the name of. A Wahindi couple sat down at the table next to me and I decided to observe them and learn the correct way of eating this kind of food. The woman used a fork and the man used bread or his fingers, even for sticky dishes, so I don’t think there was a method. I got a dessert that was like a little spherical doughnut in hot syrup.

In the ladies’ room a girl in her 20s was having a serious fight with her hair. She asked me if I was American. I don’t think that had ever happened before. People usually suppose I’m Russian or Ukrainian, or sometimes German or British, or even Brazilian. I’ll have to start a diet. She also wanted me to confirm that there was a lot of money in Sweden. I was going to say that there was but that it was only available to some people, but as I was in Nairobi, I must have got hold of some of the money, so I just agreed. The girl told me that in Kenya everything was a struggle.

On my way back to the city centre I sat so deep inside the matatu that I didn’t bother getting off at University Way or next to Jevanjee Gardens. I alighted at the same stop as most of the other passengers and discovered that I was east of Moi Avenue after dark. There were a lot of people everywhere and no one of them looked dangerous.

I laughed at your conclusion you needed to go on a diet because someone thought you were American.

I laughed at that too, especially in conjunction with the wonderful statement about having the cookies as a compensation for not having tomatoes! I think the reason your writing is so entertaining is that you write what you think, without censoring it. It brings a fresh and amusing point of view.

Isn't it about time for another chapter?

i'm with you, leely, but i suppose we should cut her some slack over the holidays.

I'm less charitable. In between emergencies I expect the trip report to take priority.

Day 22 has been almost finished for a while now, but I’ve been busy, injured (wildlife related) and thinking that there are more important things to do than writing a frivolous and stupid trip report.
ann-nyc, you’re right that I just write what I think. I’m too lazy to try to write something proper. There are some things that been left out though. As keeping secrets from Fodorites is cheating, I’ll have to write some kind of conclusion and include them there. ;)

I’d have left out the thought about looking like an American if it weren’t because so many Fodorites are Americans.

<b>Day 22</b>

In the morning Nelson brought me the bangles that I’d ordered. He also wanted to tell me that he was very disappointed. He had expected us to do things together this year, but now he suspected that I was an individualist, as I was always walking around on my own. I would have to come with him to the Village Market shopping mall next day when there was a Maasai market. It sounded interesting enough and I hadn’t been to Village Market, so I agreed.

I don’t think I had any specific plans for where I was going when Nelson stopped me to tell me that there was a problem and he had to go home to his children for a couple of days. He wouldn’t tell me to exact problem, so we bid farewell and I decided to go to Village Market immediately on my own. I didn’t feel like spending what could be my last full day in Kenya in a shopping mall. This year I actually was a bit cleverer than last year and asked a well-dressed woman – instead of some young man asking me what I was looking for - where I could find the matatu, and then I actually found it almost immediately outside the Odeon ex-cinema. The fare was 30 shilling and the heat was so suffocating that I had to get out my fan. I changed to another matatu along the road, but didn’t have to pay again. Then I arrived in Gigiri that’s UN country with UNEP red plated gaz guzzlers – a Kenyan blogger has photos of red plated Hummers on his blog - and employees trying to spend their inflated salaries at Village Market. (I am aware that the old Land Cruiser wasn’t a biogas vehicle.) The mall looked like a luxury hotel, with little bridges over water, and the Mzungu percentage was far above any not strictly tourist related place I’ve ever visited in Kenya. The Nairobi street hustlers really should hang around at Village Market, or maybe not.

I tried to have a look around and felt slightly confused walking in circles. There were the usual touristy shops like the Kikoy.com, Kazuri and Kitengela Glasss. Though I don’t know if tourists shop at Kitengela Glass, as the items are both heavy and fragile. I tried to find a beige shirt at a Kenyan clothes shop the name of which I can’t remember, but that I think of as “Emin Pasha”. The name is probably in Maa and there’s one word starting with E and one starting with P. Anyway, I couldn’t find a shirt and I didn’t even look at the silly expensive shops. Instead I found a leaflet saying that a manicure was 500 shillings, and remembering an April Fools joke about manicure on safari made me pluck up courage descending into the very pink interior of Dream Nails. In spite of a low nail quality with peeling nails I’d never used the services of a professional manicurist, probably because I prefer to spend my money in East Africa. Eunice had seen worse though and she started polishing, polishing, polishing, laying in soapy water and massaging with oil. The treatment must have gone on for at least 45 minutes. I asked her what language she was talking with another girl, and that was a stupid thing to do as I heard it was Kikuyu. To appear as a clever person I should have said, “you’re talking Kikuyu”, but that would only be clever for a tourist and not for a person living in Kenya, so I don’t really know how to be clever. My nails became smooth, but it can’t be a sustainable practise to polish peeling nails, as they’ll end up so thin that they’ll disappear. I tipped Eunice and paid a middle aged Mhindi woman and after that Eunice painted my nails pink, as it’s clever not to dig for money with newly painted nails. I didn’t want a pedicure. I suspected my feet were dusty. The Kikuyu word for nail is “ruara”, by the way.

I bought two filled chocolates at an expensive chocolate shop – one dark with amaretto filling and one milk chocolate with passion fruit filling - and thought it should have been the other way around. I had a d&eacute;j&agrave; vu that I’d bought the same flavours and thought the same thought. Though maybe I did at Sarit Centre in 2007.

Then I walked around the food court for a long time before deciding on the Turkish place where I had vegetarian meze. It was identical to Lebanese food and very good.

I don’t remember what more I did at Village Market. Once out on the street again there was a matatu waiting, so I hopped on without having a look around. Passing City Park I saw people sitting in the warm sunny grass and Sykes monkeys running around. On Nature Kenya’s website it says that “Sykes' monkeys are friendly and gentle and seldom bite” – unlike the vervets and baboons that can also be seen in the park. I have to visit City Park. I also saw a big mitumba - second hand clothes – market that I have to visit as well. Nairobi really is a lovely green city in the sun – sometimes.

I can’t remember what I did in the evening. I probably checked the Internet at the place on the top floor of Sherlock’s Den that’s a very lively restaurant in the Nakumatt Lifestyle mall. I was walking along Koinange Street late in the evening when I met the waiter from Savannah. He thought it quite funny that I didn’t get any tomatoes and wanted us to have a drink. I thought it was too late. I don’t know why I’m so boring.

An individualist with bangles and painted nails is a force to be reckoned with, even if the manicure was the result of an April Fools joke. I plead guilty to posting the &quot;ruara&quot; joke.

Lynn, I wonder if I’m the only one who has understood that you’re the baddest of Fodorites.

I just have to write a few lines more to finish the report, but I’m not entirely sure I’ll manage to do it before Christmas. If I don’t finish this year I’ll deserve some kind of punishment.

&quot;In spite of a low nail quality with peeling nails I’d never used the services of a professional manicurist, probably because I prefer to spend my money in East Africa.&quot;

Getting a manicure in Nairobi is a way of doing both simultaneously. And you say you're not clever.

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas!

So it extends to 2009? It can be your resolution!

<b>Day 23</b>

I remember visiting Zanzibar Shop in the morning and then I think I was looking for books without buying any because they were too heavy, and because I would never have the time to read them anyway. I’d been sneezing since I arrived in Naivasha and now my throat had begun feeling sore. I decided to have lunch at Savannah. It’s a boring place, but I wanted to tell the waiter that I wasn’t boring. Though he was serving other tables and was quite busy.

I got another sms from James – “When are you sending the money?” I forgot to write that when at Village Market I got an sms from him saying something like, “I had bicycle collision with zebra. Big repair bill. Need assistance.” I didn’t know what to reply. I suspected that he had made up the story, and I wouldn’t know how to send money to Naivasha anyway. It would have been rude to say, “I don’t believe you”. If he’d told me his problem face to face, I’d thought, “there may be some truth in this” and contributed to part of the repair bill and James would have been annoyed at my lack of generosity while I’d have been annoyed at being lied to. I tried to sms my brother to ask him what to reply – not because he’s an expert at this kind of situation, but because he’s attentive to his mobile phone. The message didn’t get through until I was back at the Terminal and then he asked me, “Do you know this person? Is he trustworthy?” The only thing I really knew about James was that he was after my money and I suspected that he thought he’d made an investment in a morning at Fisherman’s and now wanted something out of it. I didn’t reply.

As always, I bought some passion fruit at Nakumatt, but I still thought that it was possible to find a way to stay in Kenya. Even if I’d get on the plane, someone knowing what to do could be seated next to me. The enthusiastic Nakumatt greeter wasn’t there.

In the afternoon I found myself at the Hilton Arcade where the least expensive curio shops are. I think they buy leftovers from other curio shops. As expected, I found my bangles for a lower price that I’d paid.

Then the rain started to pour down and for the first time I got soaked in the streets of Nairobi. The shops were closing, but I sought shelter inside one selling semi precious stones in ugly gold jewellery. Then I ran all the way up to Java House to have lemon and ginger tea with honey that I thought would be good for my throat. The rain continued and promised making Nairobi into a sparkling emerald of a city in the morning, but I would have to leave in the dark to catch my flight at 8.15 am. Why did KLM/Kenya Airways change the 11 something flight?

After the tea – that didn’t even contain tea, but was very lemony – and a fruit salad, I returned to the Terminal where I met Alex whom I hadn’t seen this year, which proves that my stay in Kenya was far too short. Alex picks up guests at the airport and he would drive me there in the morning. I’d been told by KLM to check in 3 hours before departure at 8.15 am, but I decided there was no way I was getting up before 3 am, so I asked Alex to be at the Terminal at 5.15.

Then I did some packing, showered and went to bed remembering that I hadn’t seen Chris after returning from Naivasha.

<b>Day 24</b>

I was up at 3am and went down the stairs at 5am – slowly, with frequent stops, as my bag was a bit heavy. At the bottom of the stairs there was a mattress with bed linen and Jacob was sleeping on it. He got up in his pyjamas saying that they were opening the hotel at 5am anyway when I excused myself for having woken him up. Benson had been sleeping behind the reception desk. Alex arrived at 5.15 and we left in the dark. The trip to the airport was less than 20 minutes door to door and Alex said he’d look for a way for me to stay in Kenya.

I think there was a delay as I remember sitting on the floor waiting for quite some time, but my memories from the airport aren’t very clear. At least I know that I bought Signs of the Wild by Clive Walker, Histories of the Hanged by David Anderson and a Toblerone. It wasn’t raining and it the sun wasn’t shining. There was no superb starling on the wing of the plane. A young Irish girl was sitting next to me. She could have known a thing or two about living in Kenya, but she put on a facemask, plugged in earplugs and went to sleep. I was exactly the same, but with a red nose and pink fingernails.

<b>The End</b>

Thanks for your great report, Nyamera! Hey, have you seen the &quot;Live you(r) dream in Kenya&quot; thread and considered applying for the teaching job at the camp? I'm sure you could get a TON of positive referrals from your fellow Fodorites.

The next time I want someone to loan me money, I'll remember the zebra and bicycle story. Repeating that one outside of Africa would be <u>stupid.</u>

No superub starling, so I'll settle for the red nose and pink fingernail ending.

You've written another insightful tale.

Fitting that you'd wrap it up in 2008. Maybe 2009 will be the year you can enjoy an extended stay in Kenya.

ShayTay and Lynn,
I’m feeling accomplished having finished the report the same year as the trip, but after 2 hours of 2009 things weren’t improving until I saw your comments. I’ve already posted some negative thoughts about not being a teacher and neo-colonial toenails on Safaritalk, regarding the teaching thread. I could definitely use a ton of positive referrals. Thanks, Shay! I also saw that you thought of me on the teaching thread here on Fodor’s. You’re on my VIP list.
I don’t think James was looking for a loan.
Happy New Year!

You didn't say whether you sat in the aeroplane looking through the window at the decrepit old Nairobi airport with tears in your eyes. I know I did, both when leaving myself and when reading your last two days reports. So, are you prepared to stay in Kenya for months with little income but having your accommodation paid for? Our Kenyan friend who is going home in June said that it is easy to get a job teaching English in a Kenyan country school. Not much money. You would need to buy a return ticket of course. You would need to do an 'adult teach English as a second language' course, I would think. Then you would need to make enquiries with whichever government department handles that (or I will ask my Kenyan friend). You are obviously prepared to live reasonably basically and are brave enough to travel on matatus so living in a village where the villagers love and respect you couldn't be too hard. Then give yourself 6 months or whatever you can manage (forget that you don't care to teach, this would be different) and then you might just meet the sort of people who could help you to stay. That is what I would do if I didn't have small children and dogs and if I wanted so desperately to be somewhere else. I wouldn't die wondering. Teachers are the one thing that Kenya needs so maybe they wouldn't be so fussy about qualifications.

Twaffle, I had tears in my eyes during much of the trip, not only because of the sun and the wind. At takeoff I usually sit with my forehead against the wall looking out of the window and I stay that way until I look approximately normal. I suppose I look like I’m very interested in clouds.

If I were a native English speaker I’d try teaching English for free accommodation. Now I don’t feel confident enough and I’m sure that in any village there will be someone who speaks better English than I do. I’ve been kind of hoping that when in Kenya I’d run into some inexpensive volunteer opportunity and that I’d be invited to join in some way, but I don’t really have a skill to offer. Anyway, this would only mean a longer and hopefully less stupid visit to Kenya. I’m not that sure I’d meet any people that could help me to stay, and even if I did they wouldn’t help me while I’m the kind of person that make people cry with my trip reports. I need to become energetic and cheerful, and then maybe competence won’t be that important … Does anyone know of a pill? Though I can always cheer myself up thinking that I don’t have children or dogs – the child thought really is the only thing that works, together with reading comments from kind, helpful and understanding Fodorites.

OK. I am back to the drawing board. Perhaps I need to ask around some more about the opportunities available. In the meantime, think positive thoughts.

Reading your posts, I'd never have known that you weren't a &quot;native English speaker.&quot; If your writing is any indication, I don't think you'd have a problem getting a job teaching English. I wish you the best in getting back to Kenya, long-term. Someone there will recognize your value!

Nyamera, you write beautifully and much better than many who are native English speakers/writers and who concentrate on only one language.

This is about 15 minutes long but worth watching if you need cheering up. It WILL make you smile!

I'm sure you can teach English if you can teach Spanish. Go for it.

Happy New Year!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cbk980jV7Ao

Thanks, Safarimama! It’s a lovely little film and it reminds me that I should have told As You Like It how wonderful they were when I got an “After your safari” email.
Happy New Year!

Nyamera, if you want to pursue the English teaching, there are a couple of things you can do to increase your qualifications. First of all, I will say that your written English is certainly good enough -- I've taken 'official' courses in how to do ESL teaching, and there were definitely students whose English was not as good as yours. I assume you don't have a strong accent?

The 'gold standard' is the CELTA or the Trinity course. I took the CELTA. It's a great course, and is offered in many locations around the world, but rather expensive (a couple of thousand dollars).

Prior to that, sort of as a trial balloon, I took an online class, to see if I would even like it, or have any skill in it. I tried a course through www.i-to-i.com/tefl/
The basic course is surprisingly good (but you don't get teaching practice). FYI, the grammer course add-on isn't as good -- it doesn't really teach you, it just tests you.

Thanks, ann-nyc. I took the “free taster” with good results, but I cheated on the personality test. ;) Speaking is my problem in English and most other languages.

Happy New Year and thank you for completing this! If we are optimists we will say that now it is only about 5 months until you return to Kenya. How is your manicure holding up?

Karibu!

Happy New Year, Leely! I only need a quick look at my nails to se that I have to return to Kenya ASAP.

Maybe not ASAP, but I hope you'll get back within the next 6 to 8 months.