Well after our never ending train ride we finally made it to Mombasa. Jana wanted to see wildlife, and since Nairobi National Park didn’t work out we decided to visit Shimba Hills instead. Shimba Hills National Park is about 50 miles from Mombasa, and Jana and I were sick of public transport and decided to opt for a taxi. The train had arrived in Mombasa at 4pm instead of the scheduled 8am (after talking to many other people about their train experiences, I’m told we did fairly well), and we did not have enough remaining daylight to risk a matatu.
After some tough negotiations we boarded a taxi for the game park. Things were going well enough until we were 20 miles or so from the park entrance. That was when the drive belt went out on our cab and of course no replacement was to be found. Stranded on the side of the road after our never ending travel fiasco, I couldn’t help but to laugh. Jana was not amused.
Sometimes things go so absurdly wrong that laughter is the best coping mechanism. I see this reaction in Kenyans all the time. For instance, when a network official shared the story of how $400 designated for a disabled youth group was channeled through our local Social Development Officer and stolen, or how tons of free maize seed donated to widows ended up being sold by the Ministry of Agriculture, the result from the other network officials was nervous laughter. Except for politicians (who ironically are the primary contributors to corruption), most Kenyans I know rarely get visibly upset over something as commonplace as corruption. They realize it eats away at their quality of life, but since there is little that can be done about it, a shake of the head and a laugh that implies “this is life, what can you do?” is the next best thing. I even had this reaction when discussing the death of my friend Zelda in a Nairobi carjacking. “Those crazy carjackers! What can you do?”
The beautiful thing in this country is that for the most part, even when things go horribly awry, in their own Kenya way they eventually work themselves out. Such was the case with our stranded cab ride. As we sat on the side of the road wondering what to do next, a flashy car with a Dutch driver cruised by. Seeing us standing on the side of the road and looking pathetic, he decided to give us a lift. He was heading in the opposite direction from the game park, but by then we were just happy to find a way back to civilization so we could make a new plan of action. It turned out our driver was the manager of one of the multi-million dollar hotels at nearby Diani Beach. He offered to let us stay at one of the all-inclusive resort hotels for a fraction of the price.
Fed up with budget travel, we took him up on the offer. At first I felt entirely out of place. Not only was the hotel extravagant, but Diana is almost exclusively the tropical resort of choice for Germans (Italians, on the other hand, make their way north of Mombasa to Malindi). Many of them did not speak English at all and even the menus and signposts were written in both German and English. With very few exceptions, everyone in the hotel was over the age of 50, and some were quite demanding and bossy. However, the hotel itself was amazing. Swimming pools, the first air conditioning I have encountered in Kenya, an incredibly comfortable bed, and hot running water complete with actual water pressure were just some of the perks. I have a newfound appreciation for all-inclusive hotels; it means all you can eat and drink all day long without having to leave the comfort of the hotel, and most of the time you can just stay in a lounge chair. In fact, many of the coastal tourists fly to Mombasa, immediately hop on a private bus, drive straight to the beach, then never leave the hotel again until it is time to go home. I loved reaction on the valet’s face when we walked to the road with our luggage and boarded a matatu back to Mombasa.
Another perk was my Swahili. Western Kenya is off the tourist route and most of the wazungu here are doing some kind of development work. Speaking Swahili gets a reaction but it’s not unusual to come across a white person who knows a bit. On the coast, and particularly in a resort hotel, nearly everyone is a tourist and Swahili is spoken by very few of them. Being able to talk in Swahili to the reception and staff of the resort hotel got a very positive reaction and made friends quickly. Also, as opposed to Western Kenya where Swahili is a second language and the local tribal dialect comes first, coastal Kenyans speak Swahili as a primary language and the fact that I could speak “mother tongue” was much appreciated.
We had such a great time at our resort hotel that after our two days were up Jana offered to cover two more.
Her parents had done some research online and found a place at Baburi beach for a bargain.
We decided to make our there, where the nearby nature trail I visited with Zelda last August would finally provide the wildlife viewing Jana had been waiting for.
Our next two days at yet another all inclusive hotel were as great as the first two, and I began starting to feel pretty worthless, and not at all in a bad way. I’ve never understood how great it is to just sit on a lounge chair under the hot sun on the beach and not move for hours at a time, but now I’m convinced there’s no better way to recharge. Thirsty? If you can manage the effort to look up and speak a few words a cold beer is on its way. Hungry? Well, there’s a snack bar with pizza if the buffet full of delicious food from the most recent meal wasn’t enough.
Remarkably, I did manage a bit of activity during my last few days. I went diving in the Mombasa National Marine Reserve, my first dive trip since getting certified last August. What a blast. The reef was spectacular and I got close enough to touch (though I didn’t) sea turtles, thousands of beautiful reef fish, a sting ray, and even a few creepy stonefish. I included the link so you can see the thing. It matches the reef so well you can’t even see it. The only reason I noticed is that is was pointed out by my guide. Also, it is the most venomous fish in the world. Why God created a creature that was both completely camouflaged and highly lethal is beyond me, but luckily I didn’t bump into it.
I also went back to Heller Park. I’m sure I wrote about it in August so I won’t go into it again, but this time I did manage to feed the Giraffes and it was hilarious watching sneaky moneys make a run for the giraffe food and cram as much of it as they could into their mouths before being chased away. I actually saw the same type of money reach through a window at one of our beach hotels and grab a handful of food off someone’s plate before running away as fast as possible. I wish I could have a mischievous monkey for a pet.
One night there was a raffle at the resort hotel. Only one person would win and there were over a hundred people. I asked what the prize was and the woman wouldn’t tell me, but when I suggested it may be a safari of some type she just smiled and kept her mouth shut. Since I assumed it was a safari or a travel package and I was certain I wouldn’t win, I was totally shocked when they called my number. Luck like that doesn’t come around too often. Beaming, I walked to the stage to receive my prize, where it was obvious I was getting a gift wrapped bottle of wine. Assuming a certificate of some type must be inside the wrapping, I opened it up to discover that all I had was a cheap bottle of white table wine. For over 100 people, most of whom were paying big bucks to stay at the hotel, I thought the gift a bit disappointing. What a pity to use up all my luck on a wine bottle. Next time the raffle is for a Porsche or Mountain Bike you better believe I don’t stand a chance...
...Or so I thought. On my way back from Nairobi I won a raffle again. Two raffles in less that a week! This time it was for a free bus ticket in luxury (sarcasm here) Akamba bus lines! I was the only person in the entire bus to win. What are the odds of that happening twice? Unfortunately, I had to use it within three weeks and never got around to it, so both prizes were pretty much a letdown and my luck has surely run dry by now.
Although I had a great time at the beach resorts there were several things that bothered me. On the coast sex tourism is huge, and child prostitution is a big reason that many tourists make their way to Kenya every year. I’ve been told it is at it’s worst in Malindi, but even in Bamburi I couldn’t walk to the beach at night without being harassed by a prostitute. Stranger still was that it was very common to see middle-aged European women with very young Kenyans. I spoke to some of the coastal PCV’s about this and apparently there is quite a market for young Kenyan men to sell themselves to older European women. In fact, one of the coastal Peace Corps Volunteer’s Kenyan friends does this regularly and is doing quite well for himself financially as a result.
Another slightly less disturbing thing was the performance put on every night at these hotels. I watched a bit of a “traditional Masai jumping competition” and some of the coastal tribes in traditional clothing dancing around to music. It struck me that the displays put on were more along the lines of what tourists would stereotypically expect Kenya to be like than the way it really is, and it made me a bit sad to think that the impression of Kenyan people given to beach tourists is limited to poolside performances staged to meet their inaccurate expectations.
So all in all my time with Jana was a bit stressful at times but a lot of fun. It also left me with so much to write about that I’m still over a month behind. Once Jana left (just for good measure her flight was delayed by a day and a half) I made my way South to work with a Peace Corps Volunteer for some time, but I’ll save that story for the near future as I frantically work to catch up over the next few days.
<< Home