Space and Time (Warps)

Nairobi-You would think space was at a premium here in Kenya the way everyone bunches up into unnecessarily small spaces. I don’t think that the concept of spatial relations really exists here. Both on the road and in the pool, as far as I can gather, Kenyans’ ideas of space and time are very different than a girl who grew up in one of the most under-populated countries in the world and was kicked out of swim practice if she arrived a minute late. Whether it is being on time or being sent back in time as pirates rule the shores, I wonder whether anyone is wearing a watch or using a clock.

Kenya occupies 582,650 sq km, or twice the size of 2 Nevadas, with a population of about 38 million people. Canada, where I grew up, is the second largest country geographically (behind Russia) and occupies 9,984,670 sq km, just larger than the size of the US, with a population of just over 33 million. Of that total, 90% are concentrated within 160 km of the US border. Sure, that’s a lot more space for a similar amount of people, but still Kenya is doing pretty good when it comes to space. Yet still, I can’t get anyone to spread out.

The girls I am coaching have some serious problems with space! One issue is that they don’t have any goggles, which means they cannot swim up the sides and down the middle to save their lives. It is a nightmare; not dissimilar to Nairobi’s infamous traffic jams.

Ah, transportation in Kenya! I must say, I was completely shocked at the state of Kenya’s roads upon arrival. I really thought they would be decent, but they are the worst I have ever seen. Supposedly the problem is political, you only get proper roads if there is a politician in power from your area, and even then, most contractors pour only 1 of 4 inches of tar and pocket the cost of the other 3 inches. In addition to bad roads, there are unlimited “jams,” caused by a myriad of factors: old cars that break down, accidents, and then just plain old running out of gas scenarios.

Everyday I take a matatu to work. These are mini-vans that seat 15, including the driver and conductor who leans out the window shouting for new passengers. Most often another 2 are squeezed in and when this happens, the conductor sits on your lap. Matatus are famous for pickpockets, but so far, so good. My bigger problem is sharing my lap with the conductor, bumping my forehead on the way out, or having to sit in the back row and hitting my head on the roof as we bump along over potholes and curbs. The good news is that it only costs 20 Kenyan Shillings ( 27 cents). So far I have avoided the front seat up with the driver. It is lovingly referred to as the “death seat.”

Did I mention they blast hi- hop and rap music, and quite often videos if they are retrofitted with screens? If you are really lucky the seats have actual cushions and don’t have wires sticking out. Most are also decorated with appropriate urban design, complete with pictures of Missy Elliot, Dre, and Lil Wayne. When the traffic is backed up drivers take matters into their own hands, sometimes crossing into on-coming traffic to pass the long line of backed up vehicles. Even better is when they meet another car, they shift not back into their lane, but onto the sidewalk of the on-coming lane and drive right up. At least I get to work on time.

I must admit that after I gave my swimmers a little chat about coming to workout before it starts, they have been very punctual. When they are late they come up and say, “I am sorry Miss, but I was in class.” I don’t think I have ever been called “Miss” in all my life, but it sure beats “Ma’am.”

My swimmer girls don’t have pace clocks, which makes it near impossible for me to get them to give each other sufficient space to swim. Not only do they swim crooked, but they insist on swimming on top of one another; my two biggest pet peeves in the pool. Alas, without a clock, how can I teach them to leave 10 or even 5 apart? On Friday I tried to teach them dives since they had a meet this weekend (which was possibly the most painful experience I have had here. I had to sit through 4 hours of aged 7-17 year olds swimming just to watch my girls in about 6 races). So, I had them spread out across the length of the pool and said that every other girl would be in the first wave, and then the others in the second. Do you think they could figure that out even after we counted out 1, 3, 5, etc.?

There are also times when I feel like I have been sent back in time, and I don’t mean the hunter-gatherer tribes or pastoralists who populate Kenya. Last week Somalian pirates took over an Ukrainian ship filled to the brink with 22 battle tanks, grenade launchers, and a “substantial amount of ammunition.” The pirates’ ransom for the 21 member crew and its cargo has fallen from 35 million to 20 million now that it is surrounded by ships including a US destroyer. This is the 24th attack by pirates this year off the coast of Somalia.

I thought piracy went out with the 19th century. Yet somehow, the seas are filled with them here, and unfortunately these guys don’t look much like Johnny Depp.

Nairobi Checklist

Ngong Hills, Kenya- I went hiking (more like steep walking) in Ngong Hills (S01 degrees 26.136' E036 degrees 38.402'), just west of Nairobi and realized that things here in Nairobi are going rather well. Right before I left NYC for Beijing I was carrying around a 75 point checklist of things to do before I left on this adventure. Shannon S. said it was giving her a migraine just looking at it, while other friends just shook their heads in disbelieve. But this is a checklist I think you will appreciate.

1-Jobs: I have 2 jobs here in Nairobi. I will be working part-time with the Australian High Commission doing refugee resettlement, which means I will most likely get to travel out of Kenya to refugee camps throughout the region. I should also get to do some interviews in the camps here. We have our first social “bar night” on Thursday and I volunteered to lend my skills acquired at New York Bartending School, Class of 1998. I am also working for an United Nations agency called the International Office of Migration helping to create a migration policy for Somalia, which is a pretty big endeavour being that it is not really a functioning nation-state at the present time.

2-Roof over my head: Through a friend from my last job I was introduced to a lovely man named Terry W. who kindly offered me shelter until I get settled. He has a beautiful home near both my jobs, which makes getting to work (transportation gets an entire blog posting on its own coming shortly) fairly easy. There are 2 others living there, 1 permanent, his name is Martin, and Bob who is visiting from the US like me.

3-Swimming: I finally made it to the pool! I found one 5 minutes from my house and it only costs 150 Kenyan shillings ($2.30) for a swim. The pool isn't heated, but the weather has warmed up now and the sun was shining! I had to dodge a few learn-to-swimmers who were swimming widths, but otherwise, it was so nice to be in the water after about 3 weeks of nothing but walking.

4-Volunteering: I had my first practice last week with the girls at Kenya High School. They are at a pretty basic level…some have just learned to swim, but I hope I can do some good. None of them have goggles so I might be doing a big online Speedo purchase before the month is out. We started on Friday with the importance of "time-management" i.e. if they are late for workout they don't get in. I hate being the bad guy, but I also hate tardiness. Monday we do streamlining and how to climb out the pool like a swimmer. I really wish my coaching partner Jamie B. was here, I think that is going to take a lot of practice.

5-Safari Partner: Note to self: Don't ever, ever, ever do online dating again. Okay, that was a given after my disastrous over 40-only responses on Match, but posting want-ads for men in your blog seems to be a do! Not 1 week after I asked for a man over 6'2" to be my safari partner, but one appeared. It turns out that "Simon" the anthropologist from Canada I mentioned the other day put in an application for a part-time safari partner and, while I didn't know it, safari is actually more than just riding around looking at wild animals. Ku-safiri is Swahili for 'to travel'.

Simon, whose real name is Scott M., was my Ngong Hills’ travel partner and his Maa language skills came in handy when throngs of Maasai children accosted us with beaded goods on our way up and our way down. They were pretty darn cute though and we bought a few bracelets and keychains. Then we drove them down the hill to where they lived. I thought it was a bit risky for us to drive them around in the Land Rover, but since Scott lives in the community and they go to school with the children of the family he lives with, he said it would be fine. So far no charges of 2 "wazungu" (people who are white) kidnapping local children have been laid.

As far as Ngong Hills go, on the one end of the range if you go hiking there is a chance you could get mugged. Martin went there with a big group last year. When 2 of the guys walked ahead they were mugged, and I mean everything was taken, including their clothes. They walked back in bare-feet and their underwear. Suffice to say, we went walking on the other end of the range; I don’t need mugging to be added to my checklist of things to do in “Nairobbery” as it is affectionately known in Lonely Planet.

To the ends of the Earth

Masai Mara-A week and a half ago I was swimming off the northeast coast of Australia on the Great Barrier Reef; today I am here in western Kenya in the Masai Mara chasing lions and elephants as easily as I swam with sharks and turtles. At one point I stood up in the Safari truck yesterday and exclaimed that I couldn't believe where I'd been and where I now was. It really feels like I have traveled to the ends of the Earth.

Things have been coming together rather well for me here in terms of work, so I realized that if I didn't go on Safari this weekend, I might never have a chance. So off I went with 3 other people from Upperhill to the Masai Mara, a game reserve that is over 1800 square km. Bordering the Serengeti in Tanzania, the Mara is a vast grassland full of animals and rolling hills.

We started out the trip with a spectacular view atop the escarpment just 45 minutes outside of Nairobi of the Rift Valley (thought by many to be the home of the first human beings). We then bumped and bounced our way to the Mara along some of the worst roads I have rode on. I was surprised by this; while they are in the process of widening and re-taring the road, I couldn't believe how bad it had become. The last hour or so was dirt, but that got us ready for the Safari.

We stayed in a tented camp (with beds in the tent and electricity), and my roommate was a nice young woman from Hong Kong. She had 2 other friends with her, I am not sure how she drew the short stick, but I was happy to know her and she was very kind. They had brought gigantic lenses and fancy cameras (they each had 3) for the Safari and must have taken at least 900 pictures a day. I tried to take 1 good shot of each animal, then sit back and watch the show.

My favourite moments were watching nature unfold. Twice we were privy to the hunt of the lion and lioness and I got so excited to watch it so closely. The first time, man got in the way, which was a theme running throughout. The plethora of Safari vans often outnumbered the animals and I couldn't help but feel a bit dirty about the whole thing. On the one hand, I wasn't about to turn around and not be a part of an opportunity to see such beautiful animals, but I did wonder if I was part of the problem or the solution. I guess being there means the animals are protected in a reserve and safe from poachers. But when we drove up just a metre from a sleeping lion, revving our engines and smoking black fumes, I wondered if I was just part of a giant zoo.

Did I mention lions? Well, we saw plenty! On the third morning we saw 7: the sleeping lion who had awoken, a mother and her 2 cubs, and 3 other female lions from another pride. At one point I watched as the mother came from the underbrush to challenge the other female lions who were getting to close. She came right out and leaped with open mouth at 1, who then ran off to hunt. We watched the day before as another lion sat atop a rock overlooking the plain. A lone zebra wandered away from his heard and I got so excited at the thought of seeing a kill. But as the zebra approached I started to panic and hoped it would escape. Not to fear, for another 4 vans pulled up parking themselves directly between the lion and the zebra, thwarting the hunt's conclusion.

My favourite animals were the giraffes and zebras for their coats are just too cool. Plus I am tall, so I like giraffes for their height. When we stopped on the long middle day for our picnic lunch, monkeys arrived to steal the banana peels. We also saw elephants, gazelles, jackals, hyenas, ostriches, hippos, and a croc. I watched as lions ate a zebra, then saw vultures as they scavenged for the remains. It is also the season for "The Migration" which involves the movement of 2 million wildebeest and other grazers from the Serengeti to Lake Victoria. At times as we gazed about, thousands filled my view. It was pretty spectacular.

The final day was not without it's irritations. In Swahili they say "hakuna matata" which basically means “no worries.” I understand when you are paying 30 cents to take a beaten up old van around town and it breaks down, then you can say hakuna matata. But when you are paying Western prices ($90 a day), and you are left in your camp for 2 hours, then finally picked up by another Safari company whose van breaks down and you are stranded for an hour and a half, then you are dropped off for another car to pick you up after a 30 minute wait to be taken the final stretch to Nairobi, only to encounter rush hour traffic, where you sit for 2 hours, just half a kilometre from home, but you can't walk because you might get mugged, then it is hard to say hakuna matata.

But hey, this ain't New York City.

Jambo!

Nairobi-"So, what is it that you, would like to do in our country?" said the receptionist at Upperhill on my first morning in Kenya. When I explained I planned on doing refugee work and help with local swimmers she replied approvingly, "Oh, okay."

Upperhill Campsite and Backpackers is a hodgepodge of accommodations: camping, cabins, and rooms in the main building. My first 2 nights were in the main building, I even had my own bathroom, but the extra price wasn't worth it to me, so today I switched to a cabin outside. It is not nearly as warm here as I had thought it would be. Last night I slept with 2 blankets. Supposedly the coldest months are ending and as we are at altitude (about the same as Denver), it never gets as hot in Nairobi as it does in other parts of the country. There is talk of a drought, but the "troubles" are for now, somewhat under check.

I still haven't gotten out much yet. Just 2 trips on 2 days to the "western" mall called YaYa shopping center ("y shop anywhere else?"), to check my email and play on Facebook. Tomorrow I have 2 job interviews and lunch with Kenya's first family of swimming: the 2 brothers, David and Jason D. both swam great in Beijing, but leave for school in the states tomorrow. I am happy I get to meet them before they go. The best part of my life in Sri Lanka was being involved with the swimming community and hopefully I will find a place to fit in here too.

I have also been invited to a dinner party tomorrow night by a friend of a friend who also needs a house-sitter so things are improving from Day 1!

Since I have nothing to really report, I thought I'd tell you about the people who I've met here at Upperhill. There is Jen who is a trauma nurse from the US/UK/Zimbabwe/World. She is widowed, but no more than 30. She has a biological son and is trying to adopt 2 Kenyan children who suffered some horrible, horrible abuse at the hands of their families. It is some of the most grotesque abuse that I have ever heard, which says a lot since I represented victims of torture and persecution for 2 years. The children are adorable, the boys have mohawks. Jen is pretty amazing and her life impressive.

The first woman I met was Claire from Yorkshire. She lives in a tent and is here volunteering with a UK children's charity. She has lived in Africa on and off for years. She is a very lovely woman. As we were chatting, me at the top of my voice (no surprises there) and complaining about the Chinese Communist Party, a young man from the Czech Republic asked to sit with us. His name is Jamie and he is a video game programmer. He and I thought up one yesterday as we lazed about perusing maps of Nairobi and Kenya. He was planning his safaris and left this morning for one to Masai Mara.

As dusk fell, and my day had somehow been eaten up, Simon from Montreal, via Edmonton, arrived. Simon is an anthropologist Ph.D candidate who has been here on and off for 4 years studying the implications on social behaviour from structural changes to a group of people in western Kenya (or something to that effect!). He speaks Swahili and Maa.

Everyone is so different and adventurous here. This is just what I needed to shake things up a bit. I mean, I love my life in NYC; I love the luxuries and the lifestyle that I am very lucky to have, but Jen and Simon made fun of me when they saw how big my bag was! I thought I was doing well because I only brought 1. I certainly don't think I could live in a tent for the next 3 months (let alone 1 night) however, a cabin and a share toilet, I can do. At least for a little while. But I do need to do something about finding a pool…

Fear

35,000 ft in the air somewhere over an ocean-Fear is a powerful thing that comes in so many different forms. The last time I experienced body-changing, heart-pounding fear, was when I thought someone was breaking into my apartment in Brooklyn. That was 5 years ago, but it doesn't mean I haven't been afraid since then. Fear of the unknown is especially paralyzing. Will getting my hair cut short look good on me or will it look terrible? Will I find another job if I quit my current one? Sometimes you just have to jump; you have to get your haircut all off or quit your job. That is part of the adventure, and this trip to Africa was a big, big jump that involved quitting my job, moving out of my apartment, and leaving all stability behind for a few months.

But the fear is still there, even after you make the commitment to jump. It slowly creeps in, and in my case, it makes me cry. I get overwhelmed with emotion at the smallest things, but behind it is fear. It is not just my fear that overwhelms. Many times it comes from others who are worried about me. Back in 2005 I went to Pakistan to work with the Pakistani Women's National Swim Team and to visit Right To Play programs. While I was worried about going to Peshawar on the Afghan border, I didn't think I was afraid of Pakistan. That was until the words of everyone started to build up inside me on the flight to Karachi from Istanbul. I had whipped myself into such a state that when I walked out into the airport and no one tried to kidnap me at gunpoint I cried with relief.

Sometimes the fear comes from saying goodbye. I've had to do that a lot lately. Goodbye to friends, co-workers, family and even new friends made along the way. That can make you sad and afraid that you will never see them again, never be able to replicate the memories.

Nairobi-Even now, I wonder why am I here and what am I doing? I woke up this, my first morning in Nairobi, with a different kind of fear: worry. Would I find a place to live in Nairobi, what about when I get back to NYC? Will the job I want work out, here and in NYC? Will I make friends? Will I have enough money to fund all this? Will I have enough money to pay all my bills, that pile up in NYC even though I'm half a world away? When is the next time I will get to swim and wash away these worries?

My first view of Africa was out the plane window and all I could see was red soil to the horizon. The only dark spots on the landscape were shadows from the clouds. At one point, somewhere over Somalia, I saw this huge dry riverbed, then I saw the river running about 1/50th the width of the riverbed. Rainy season comes in October. I wonder if that will help.

I left Lee's apartment in Rushcutter's Bay at noon on September 1st. I arrived at Upperhill Campsite in Nairobi 38 hours later at 8PM September 2nd (which is 2AM September 3rd in Sydney) after 2, 9 hour flights and a night in Bangkok. By the time I arrived at my hotel it was dark, but Nairobi looks big and even at 7:30 at night there was bumper to bumper traffic.

It is now morning and I am afraid to leave my room because then I must face the reality of what I have done. I need to jump to get over this last hurdle. Hunger and a minor caffeine-withdrawal headache might help. I know these thoughts will seem crazy in a few weeks, but this is where I am right now: in Africa, alone in my room, and wondering what I'm doing here. I think writing this has helped me. Acknowledging these fears reminds me that no good adventure can happen without them, or without overcoming them.

PS-I came out of my room (had to post this!) and I already made new friends! One has brought me to the mall and the world wide web for which I am ever so grateful. No need to fear.