Coastal Confessions: Back in Mombasa for IDS

The following is a collection of my (mostly academic-oriented) accounts and journals from the past week in Mombasa with Max. I promise to add some pictures and more fun posts soon. Thanks for bearing with me and continue to check the blog this week for exciting developments.

Arrival and Day One:

After a day of settling into our apartment and decompressing following our short , yet delayed, flight from Nairobi, Max and I spent the first day of our IDS getting acquainted with our neighbors in Old Town and coworkers/mentors at Jihazi. After the long day of getting lost in the maze of streets in Old Town, we headed to meet George at one of his favorite local restaurants, Central Car Park. Although the restaurant itself is lovely and covered in green grass and trees, the name is somewhat deceptive. There we spent an hour and a half discussing our plans, expectations, and goals for our time here in Mombasa, and ironed out some of the details. Basically, we came to the understanding that perhaps the best way to approach our similarly socio-politically-angled interests would be through a combination of a study of the cultural implications of coastal ecotourism and development on already marginalized communities. In doing so, we hope to gain a well-rounded perspective on the peace and conflict oriented interests Max has, and also my own aligned more closely with ecotourism and community-based tourism/development.

Day Two:

        Our second day was also somewhat loosely planned around our ability to meet with some of our contacts through the Aga Khan Development Network. We spent a couple hours in the morning at Jihazi simply taking chai with Mwalimu and Awath, whom we will be working with a lot at the restaurant. With them we discussed much about the local Old Town culture and people, and why things sometimes are the way the are in this community. For example, in the morning we chatted briefly with Sheikh Nabahani when he stopped in for Chai. During our conversation, he told us to come visit him that afternoon at his office at the Swahili Cultural Center. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to us, when he said afternoon, he neglected to tell us that he would be heading home early that day. Hence, when we went to go visit him around 2:30, he had already retired for the day and returned home. We understand now that sometimes plans here fall through, and perhaps that is simply a reflection of the loose coastal culture. As a highly punctual person, this is a bit off-putting at first, but I’m sure I will learn to cope with it during my time here. After all…it seems I may not have a choice in the matter.

        For dinner, we met up with George and another friend of his at a lovely local seafood restaurant called Bella Vista, where we had great food and conversation with George and Jeff, who is the athletic director at the Aga Khan Academy. We spoke with Jeff about where we might be able to help him out during our time here. He was very receptive to our offer to help out, and we have made tentative plans to sit down and hash out a rough schedule of when we can help out with the football and swim team practices after school. Surely, this activity will help foster a good relationship between us and the faculty here, as well as providing a nice release for us in the form of some much appreciated physical activity.

Day Three:

       Day through proved to be our most successful day of field work thus far. After taking an early morning run and iced coffee at Jihazi, we headed over to Sheikh Nabahani’s office, where we understood he would be waiting for us. Of course, upon our arrival, our apparent miscommunication was unearthed by the friendly askari at the gate, who called the professor and got to the bottom of the misunderstanding. Sheikh Nabahani was actually waiting for us at his home in Old Town, which is right near our apartment and Jihazi. Once we returned to Jihazi, Mwalimu showed us the way to Sheikh Nabahani who was, indeed, waiting for us in his rooftop apartment. There we spent the entire morning picking his brain as he picked ours. The whole conversation was somewhat of a challenge in its own right, however, because we were speaking Swahenglish back and forth. As a world-renowned Kiswahili scholar and poet, he is very used to visitors interested in studying the intricacies of the language and culture, whereas we are more interested in the economic, social, and political culture of the coast.

       Aside from the pleasure of being in the presence of one of the last great Swahili scholars, perhaps the most fruitful exchanges we had came out of our discussions of Lamu, where we are headed this weekend. He has set us up with many of his contacts there (mostly friends and family) and we expect to have a wonderful time there, during which we will surely learn a lot. Perhaps the most exciting part of the whole journey will be the bus ride up to the where we will catch the ferry to Lamu. Apparently it is some six hours on a bumpy dusty road in the blistering heat. Should be fun! Also, we have made tentative plans today for next week, where we will hopefully travel down to Funzi Bay with one of the parents from Aga Khan Academy where he has established a very legitimate ecotourism project. He takes people on kayak adventures around the mangroves and reefs, always maintaining healthy relationships with the fledgling local fishing villages he works closely with.

Day Four:

This day was mostly a recovery day for us, as we spent the previous night with Addie in Diani celebrating her birthday. We had a chance to visit the Colobus Trust and Foundation, where she is doing her IDS, but unfortunately were not really allowed into the buildings as they are introducing some sensitive baby monkeys to the community and weren’t taking visitors. Upon our return to Mombasa later this day, we booked our bus to Lamu, which departs early Friday (tomorrow) morning at 7:00 am.

Day Five:

Day Five was a travel day. We woke up at six to do some last-minute packing before we headed up into town to catch the bus. We caught a tuk tuk right at our corner in front of Fort Jesus and made it to the top of the hill before the little guy ran out of petrol and glided to a halt in the middle of the roundabout. Luckily, at this time there were very few cars on the road. Had it been later in the day, however, I fear that could have been the end of us. Our Swahili has gotten rather functional now, and as a tag-team we have now managed to make it through even the more difficult conversations. At the bus stop we snacked on some mandazi and samosas before boarding the bus and taking off for Mokoi en route to Lamu. The actual bus ride was very long and hot. Very hot. Luckily we booked an early bus, so by the time our bus arrived the midday sun was truly beating down on us. And once we got off the bus, the fun really began. We were hustled onto a tiny little skiff with a pathetic little 20 horse power engine along with what must have been almost 20 people (most of whom surely couldn’t swim) once they had finish stuffing us on board like sardines. After a death-defying 40 minute slough down the shoreline, we arrived at the dock where all hell broke loose as all 20 passengers (save Max and I) scrambled for dry land. I mean, the pushing and shoving was like Black Friday status. Landlubbers. Ha! Anyways, we spent the rest of the afternoon walking around Old Town and scoping out the offices of the organizations we hoped to meet with over the weekend. Among the people we encountered were many “captains” (it seems everyone here is a captain) who offered to take us on lovely sunset sails and seafood barbecues on the beautiful mangrove-lined Manda Bay between Lamu and Manda island. I guess they are the beach boys of Lamu. It was interesting when we finally decided to engage them in Swahili, as they were quite taken aback and took on completely different tones in the following exchanges. Still, even though they realized we were not mtaali (tourist), everyone was keen on taking us for a “free sail, my friend”. Tutaona (we will see).

Day Six:

      After a fun night out with max and our new nurse friends from John Hopkins, we retired to the hotel with full stomachs and heavy eyes. On the walk home one of our new fisherman friends, who calls himself Dolphin, showed us his “brother-cousin’s” restaurant, where we stopped to enjoy some of the local fare. Some 140 shillings later (that is roughly $1.60, food prices are so reasonable here on the island) we had two packages of chips mayai, which is the most delicious combination of freshly hand-cut french fries folded into two fried eggs and cooked on a skillet over hardwood mangrove charcoal. A long day in the sun here will really sap the energy out of you. Sleeping right through our first two alarms, we woke up at nine o’clock in a pool of our own sweat. Realizing we had almost missed our complimentary breakfast (we are making sure to be very diligent with the schools’ money provided in our stipends), we sprung out of bed and down the hall to the second-story seaside terrace and took a seat at a lovely table overlooking the bustling waterfront. Although the coastal culture has a bit of reputation for being quite slow and lazy, I think this is due to the fact that by the time tourist are up and moving during the day, most of the locals are beginning to slow their work and rest a little because most of them have been up and working hard since the crack of dawn. By the time we finished breakfast many of the dhows had left for the day to go fishing or transport goods back and forth to and from the mainland.

       Over breakfast we discussed the plan for the day, which included visiting some museums and trying to locate a couple of Community Based Organizations (CBOs) we’ve heard about in our preliminary research of the island culture, conflict, and development. The rest of the morning we spent walking the maze of streets in Lamu Town from one historic site to another, most of which we read about during the hour we spent in the Lamu Museum. The museum itself is an impressive classic Swahili building, but the exhibits and galleries inside were the really interesting part of this morning of exploring. Although the museum curator, whom we hope to speak with, was not in during the same time as us in the morning, the nice man who took our entrance fees at the door walked with us for a while on stand-by for any of our questions.

       We ate lunch at another local joint on the rooftop of a hotel next to the Lamu Fort and museum, which we also visited later this day. It’s amazing how friendly and helpful the wait staff at these local restaurants are when we throw a little (or a lot) of Kiswahili their way. Often it is clear that the cultural barriers are breaking down in just the short span of the conversations and exchanges we share. Following lunch, we headed into the fort museum in search of the curator, whom Sheikh Nabahani sent us to go speak with. Although we were unsuccessful in hunting him down on a Saturday, one of the nice young guys we spoke with at the cyber café inside the fort gave us his contact information and with a simple phone call I arranged for us to meet up later the following morning for chai and a crash course in Lamu culture and history.  

      We spent the afternoon talking to some of the local fisherman and captains along the shore about how they feel about the LAPSSET port project and how it will affect their livelihoods and lifestyles. It’s quite clear from these exchanges that many of them do not (by no fault of their own, but rather, the sneaky government who is deliberately keeping them in the dark) understand the scope or implications of the massive port project and how drastically it will change their lives. On a more positive note, after some asking around, in the afternoon we wound up at the café and office of Ms. Hadija Bwanaadi Ernst, a chairsperson on the Save Lamu committee who also edits and publishes a fantastic local activist magazine, Lamu Chonjo. Our conversations with Hadija proved incredibly helpful, especially in making plans to meet with more representatives the following day.

Day 7:

We spent most of Sunday morning waiting for Salim Bhuni, the fort curator, to show up to speak with us. Unfortunately, he never made it. Seems to be the culture here is so relaxed on the weekends that some plans simply fall through. Nonetheless, we were proactive following our disappointing morning and spent the afternoon meeting with community members including Mr. Walid Ahmed, the coordinator of the Lamu Youth Alliance, who provided us a wealth of knowledge on the controvercial port project and other youth campaigns ongoing currently. The late afternoon found us again in the company of Hadija at her Bustani Café, where we spoke further about the Save Lamu efforts raise awareness in the struggle to mitigate the risks and impacts of the port project on the local culture, economy, and lifestyle. She has put us in touch with several professionals doing work with the organization and the project, including an American lady whose dissertation is on the implications of the project on the island.

Day 8:

Today we traveled back to Mombasa by boat and bus. This long trip was made more bearable by our bus, which was more comfy this time around. We spent the afternoon at Jihazi with our surrogate mother, Mama Judy, who taught us to cook pilau, swahilit iced coffee, and viazi Jihazi, which are the most delicious little fried potato balls.

Reflection on Week One:

Max and I were very busy this week. Although our IDS may not be as well established, structured, or routine as others, I am wholly confident we have and will continue to do and learn much about the economic, social, and political culture here on the coast. George and Nicole at the Aga Khan Academy have done an excellent job guiding us towards contacts and projects that will help us in our studies, and we have been mostly successful in meeting with these people so far. I’m looking forward to this week, where we will be cooking a lot at Jihazi, visiting many local CBOs and activist community members, and further understanding the context of the issues facing the community. Also, this coming weekend we have solidified plans to do the Kayaking trip with Shak down in Funzi Bay. Wish us luck! 

A Kaleidoscope Sunday and River Gorge Glass

Yesterday we had the opportunity to travel slightly outside Nairobi to Mbagathi at the edge of the Nairobi National Park for lunch and an adventure to Rolf's Place and Kitengela Glass, respectively. Bathed in sunshine and with built up appetites, we exited the bus at Rolf's Place around two o'clock to find a picturesque resort opposite a massive river gorge from us. And if the walk to the restaurant weren't pretty enough, the path was actually a giant suspended rope bridge, offering spectacular views both up and down the lush river gorge.

Lunch was spectacular and the presentation of the food only made it all the more special. Between the bottomless bowls french fries that kept appearing on our table and the delicious and juicy T-bone steaks, we all left the meal fat and satisfied. All those calories to burn turned out to be a good thing, as the half-hour trek to Kitengela Glass from the restaurant was no walk in the park.

An exciting appetizer presentation. Photo credit: Julia Hall

Wairimu and I walking on the dirt road. Notice my muddy bare feet; I took the road less traveled by.
Photo credit: Julia Hall

Shortly after our arrival at the spectacular Kitengela Glass compound we were given a glass blowing demonstration by one of the glass magicians. I had never really understood the process until I witnessed it in person. Not that I didn't appreciate it as an art form before, but I have gained much respect for the craftsmanship and delicacy with which the process is executed. 

So this is why they call it "blown glass." Photo credit: Haley Burrowes

Julia snapped this photo as the glass magician put the finishing wobbles in this tray. 

One of many whimsical galleries on the colorful Kitengela compound. Photo credit: Julia Hall

I asked Haley to take this photo of me because I really liked the hobbit-holesque round door and the trippy suspended glass nebula in the background.

Luckily, Julia managed to capture my beloved nebula sculpture. 

Me and my lovely lady friends in front of the bridge to Rolf's Place. From left: Kate, Haley, Emma, and Sadie.
Photo credit and blue outfit coordinator: Julia Hall

My Fuzzy Friday Friends

Following our celebration to mark the last day of Kiswahili classes at Hekima, we headed out of Nairobi some twenty minutes to the David Sheldrick Elephant Orphanage and Foundation, where we spent the rest of the morning learning about the foundation and the baby elephants they help rescue from the wild. After a brief introduction from one of the elephant handlers who explained to us the mission and operation of the David Sheldrick Foundation, we were introduced to the fuzzy little orphans who came trotting down the hill towards us and anxiously to their respective handlers and milk bottles.

The young elephants trot down towards us. 

The elephants eagerly reach for their bottles as the handlers hold them up for them.

Once the little trumpeters had had their fill of yummy elephant formula we had the opportunity to pet them as the curious youngsters ventured towards the rope partition separating us and allowed us to reach out and touch them. Unlike most of our group, I chose to stand on the opposite side of enclosure with a bunch of Kenyan students (whom I assume were there on a field trip). Although due to this choice I was forced to contend with the Kenyan idea of personal space, I enjoyed my post amongst the students, especially when one of the handlers came to speak to them and I had a chance to put my Kiswahili comprehension to the test.

Despite the look on my face (notice I'm not the only one!), I thoroughly enjoyed my time at the elephant orphanage.
Photo Credit: Kendra Sultzer

My First Kikuyu Birthday Party and Last Week of Swahili

Firstly I'd like to send my prayers to the people of Boston and all the families affected by this horrific explosion. It's truly a shame that a day so celebrated and marked by months and years of hard work and preparation be marred by a such a weak and evil person. My thoughts and prayers are with you all as you cope with the trauma and loss of today.

Apologies for not updating in the last two weeks, folks. I know you've probably all been waiting for this post to come all week...and maybe the week before that. Well, here it is:

Two Sundays ago, I had a chance to meet Chief (my host uncle) for a lovely church service again before we went home with him to celebrate Katie's birthday. Although the service ran longer than usual, it was nice. I'm not so sure, however, what Rachel, Sophie, and Abby thought of their first Nairobi Baptist service, however, as the giant TV church and constant song and dance is quite a departure from most Catholic, Jewish, or otherwise religious services we're accustomed to. Anyways, following the service we piled into Chief's land rover and almost melted en route to the Mbage's gorgeous home in Runda, where we were greeted by Mommy Joyce and other new members of our growing extended homestay families. We all helped set up the patio and backyard for a bit before we went on a lovely garden tour of the property and waited for the other guests to arrive. 

After a couple hours of delicious appetizers and nyama choma (I was told two goats and several chicken gave themselves up for the occasion) and great conversation it came time to toast the occasion and educate the dear wazungu (whites) family members on the importance of such occasions in their Kikuyu culture. For this, Chief took the stage and delivered a wonderful speech thanking everyone for coming for the occasion and explaining the tradition of such Kikuyu celebrations like birthdays and visits from relatives, all of which offered them an excellent excuse to throw a big party and butcher some prized goats and chicken. Mommy Joyce also made offered a wonderful toast in tribute to both Katie and her late father (who happen to share a birthday), to recognize this momentous Jubilee (true liberty) year, signifying Kenya's 50th year since independence, and also her 30th anniversary celebrating 30 fantastic years with Chief.

After the amazing meal, during which I'm pretty sure I replaced every pound I've lost during the semester so far, Mommy Joyce brought out Katie's spectacular chocolate espresso birthday cake (it would have given Lilli's or Auntie Pammy's cakes a run for their money). After three rounds of singing Happy Birthday (The boring American version, the soulful clap-filled Kenyan version, and finally the traditional Swahili/Kikuyu way) Katie had a chance to participate in a time-honored Kikuyu tradition of making the first cuts and delivering the first bites to her Kikuyu parents and elder family members. This was, perhaps, my favorite memory of the long day of barbecuing, appetizer scarfing, great conversation, and even greater company. That night I slept well and with a full stomach (it's fascinating to me that I didn't roll off my bunk to the floor with all that wonderful food in my stomach making me almost as round as Willy Wonka's young friend Violet).

Katie make the ceremonial first cut

Annnnddd...the first bite goes to Chief himself. 

Shiko and Katie smile as we sing happy birthday to her.

Trevor and I (trying too hard to be serious).

Last Week of Swahili

Last week marked the end of our Kiswahili classes at Hekima Language Center, an occasion that was bitter-sweet for most of us who were happy not to wake up this morning by seven to make the drive to class. In our final week we delivered ten-minute speeches to our walimu in Kiswahili, which is no easy feat (especially at 7:30 in the morning!) for those who have tried to speak to Elias or Ester for that long without a pause for breath or sip of chai.

Anyways, most of us were pleased with our performance, even if some of the clever mockery and humor we worked into our deliveries fell flat with the weight of a two-ton elephant. To celebrate, on Friday we held a little farewell fiesta and shared an amazing ice cream cake Addie prepared the night before. I sure am going to miss our teachers and sharing a classroom with Bibi Julia. Rest assured, friends, that I will keep my Kiswahili sharp upon my return to the states, especially with the help of our new professor.

Pictures to come. Thank you for your patience.

A Week in the Shadow of Mt. Kilimanjaro

The view of Kili from the patio where we ate breakfast every morning. 

We’ve just returned from a weeklong field component in Amboseli National Park in southern Kenya on the Tanzanian border. This component consisted of a week long stay at Kibo Safari Camp, where we spent our days meeting local Maasai men and women, interviewing local farmers, and going for game drives in the park.

Amboseli is a relatively small park located in the shadow of the impressive Mt. Kilimanjaro that is world renowned for its population of elephants. The land around Amboseli is divided into several group ranches owned by the Maasai communities who live there. These ranches were set up by the government to appease the Massai when they established the park and banned the massai from bringing their cattle to graze on the fertile grasslands in the park.

While for the most part the Massai community has managed to survive quite well on these group ranches, an alarming percentage of these group ranches are starting to sub-divide their properties and lease them to hotels and farmers. This practice, which proves to both degrade the land and block natural animal migration routes in and out of the park, has proven highly detrimental to the wildlife and ecosystem health of the areas it has affected.

When we weren’t visiting farms or group ranches around the park we spent most of our time lounging poolside, reading, or doing crosswords (I’ve become quite the crossworder during my time here, Boppy would be proud) on one of the many super comfortable chairs around the resort. The food and accommodations were wonderful, as we ate like kings and slept in the most glamorous ‘tents’ I think I will ever stay in. Completely furnished, hot water, and flushing toilets; these rooms and beds were nicer than our beachside hotel rooms in Mombasa. The other guests at the hotel who turned over pretty quickly were mostly Europeans, including a group of 40 middle-aged Polish people, whose young polish tour guide we spent a while talking to at the bar.

My favorite shot of the day. I snapped a bunch of photos of this guy but picked this one to demonstrate the true beauty of an African Elephant rump.

I snapped this photo of two striped hyena we spotted out the window of the rover

Although blurry, I couldn't help but not include this great shot of an elephant family walking in line behind the matriarch. The Land Rover nearby is part of a research team, which is why they were allowed to drive off the road and so close to the tembos.

Some More Professional Safari Photos Courtesy of Abby Martin

    

Cowpie Smearing and Cattle Rearing

Jack stands by the waterhole where we took the cattle as Bob, our friendly interpreter, goes for a drink at the tap.

While most of the week was spent in the glamour of the Kibo Safari Lodge, please don’t get to thinking that the whole trip was spent in five-star style. As part of the Amboseli component, we had the opportunity to spend a night at a traditional Massai Boma, located on the outskirts of town in one of the group ranches. For Jack and I, who were paired up for the Massai overnight, the experience couldn’t have been more fun.

As men, in the Maasai culture, we are expected to do two main things around the boma. These include: a. Tending to the cattle, goats, and sheep by taking them to graze, making sure they are in good health, and protecting them from predators. b. Maintaining the thorn tree fences around the boma that keep unfriendly predators from attacking the livestock. With the help of our friendly interpreter, Bob (not sure really if this is his real name or simply a mzungufied version), we spent most of the day taking the cattle to water at the local watering hole, some 8km away from the boma. Upon our return, we spent a while playing soccer and volleyball with Kilimanjaro as our backdrop before dinner.

Jack, Bob, and our eldest host brother play some volleyball before dinner. 

I set up to blast a shot at Bob, who is protecting our makeshift net (the entrance to the cattle enclosure). 

Although our duties as Maasai men for the day were not too strenuous or unpleasant, many of our fellow female classmates had a very different experience. Massai women are strong. They are charged with many duties on the boma, which they must be strong for. Waking up early to milk the cows and goats before the flies are out, walking great distances to carry heavy water jugs on their heads, building and maintaining the houses within the bomas, tending to the children, cooking, and keeping house are just some of the duties they perform on a daily basis.

According to Sadie and Kate, who lived only a couple hundred meters from our boma in their own, the highlight of the experience for them was definitely the time they spent repairing the boma roof with their host mothers. This lovely process, which for them was performed early in morning shortly following breakfast, involved collecting cow dung from the cow enclosure and kneading it between their fingers while they added ash to make the mixture used to smear atop the thatch roofs and hard-packed walls of the structures. According to Kate, who had slightly less fun than Sadie with this activity, the best part for her was when her host mother asked her to pick up a fresh cow present she claims was still steaming. In response to this humble request, Kate simply explained that it was, in fact, too hot for her to pick up with her hands at the time. Clearly, the guys and girls on our trip had different experiences. All the same, though, at the end of the day when we were picked up by our drivers we were all smiling.

Kate smiling, immediately following her spirited response to my asking about her experience, "It was rad. I am completely covered in cow dung. Please open the door." 

Dinner, which was served rather late, around nine o’clock after all the milking, inspecting, and water gathering had taken place, was delicious. We ate a lovely dish slightly resembling Mom’s (Auntie Mary Beth’s?) Potatoes Au Gratin  which was made of some sautéed onions and tomatoes, potatoes, and some rice. Although according to our Massai homestay mother, Mercy, assured us there was no cheese in the recipe, Jack and I were quite convinced otherwise. Perhaps it was milk she added that gave it that taste. Either way, the food was delicious.

The following day before we were picked up was relatively slow, and involved Jack and I taking the cows to water again before we returned to do some beading with the mothers. The coolest part of this excursion to the water hole was that we encountered a heard of wild zebras along the route, which we of course decided to try to get as close as possible to. After getting just close enough not to completely spook them, only a couple hundred feet separated us from the small group of curious wild guys. I snapped a couple pictures before we decided to charge them, after which they turned and galloped away, leaving us in a cloud of dust to return to our grazing cattle.

A blurry photo I snapped of our zebra friends just before Jack and I spooked them away.

Our home stay Mother sits and takes chai as another older Massai woman works on beading an earring. Behind them, the second youngest brother finishes his cup of chai, making sure to get the last sugary drop. 

A young neighbor girl beads something for herself.