When the weekend arrives I welcome the opportunity to meet with friends and sample East African cuisine. In many ways this experience can easily be paralleled to dining in the UK, yet at the same time they sit worlds apart… probably because they are worlds apart!
See this as a step-by-step guide to eating out in Kenya; this information could be extremely valuable as you may end up in a Kenyan restaurant when you least expect it.
Time. Like most things in Africa, eating must be given the upmost respect concerning time. Hence, if you plan to eat out in Kisumu, I would recommend ordering roughly two days in advance to avoid any unnecessary waiting. Otherwise you could be waiting a while! The indefinite continued progress of existence aka time; isn’t a huge issue to most here as proceedings tend to happen eventually. Be smart – order early.
Cold. When you order a drink, always, always remember to ask for it to be delivered ‘cold’ (that’s baridi in Kiswahili). Otherwise you will end up with the inevitable look warm, I’d-rather-dehydrate, bottle of Coca-Cola or beer. And who would want that?! But seriously, why is there even the option of taking these drinks warm. I will never know.
Tap Water. Do not even go there if you value life in any shape or form.
The Bill. If I could make up a proverb, it would probably be: “A wise man always cross-references the bill with the menu.” I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been ‘done in’. It’s almost like a game and your role is to catch-out the restaurant. When you do, everyone laughs (like the end of an episode of Thunderbirds), then you pay the actual price. Easy.
Enjoy your meal. Love you Kenya.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Obama's Head keeps me dry...
Allow me to introduce you to the rainy season. Generally between April and June, Kenya experiences torrential rain fall, on a daily basis! For the local farmers who are desperate to grow profitable crops, the formation of dark clouds will bring tears of happiness to their eyes. For everyone else, life becomes nothing short of a disaster! This country was not built to deal with heavy rain and hence hours of hammering rain on sheets of rusted tin tend to take its toll.
‘It’s the rainy season… it happens every year,’ one man informs me. ‘I didn’t think it rained in Africa,’ I would reply.
‘El niño is coming…’ another woman screams as she sprints past me with a plastic bag tied over her head. Is he a Politician…? I wonder to myself, whilst drawing out my Lonely Planet guidebook.
Driving becomes an art form when the rain arrives. The dust turns to mud and the public transport becomes unhealthily over-populated. The combination of mud and window condensation transforms the main road of Kisumu into the first stage of the annual Safari Rally. I believe my matutu completed the distance with one of the fastest times yesterday… One must become accustomed to the proverbial African rainy day. Surely not that difficult coming from N. Ireland!
Despite the inconveniences brought by hailstones the size of small golf balls, the Kenyans always seem to find the funny side. Water dripping onto a brand new laptop or the commute home being delayed by two hours can’t be anything but funny… can’t it?
When buying an umbrella this week with a head shot of Obama on top, the guy at the till exclaimed, ‘This is our President…’ Now that I think is funny! I quietly corrected him and was on my way to join the second stage of the Safari Rally.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
So good they named it twice…
Kenya boasts a vast range of public transport options. This spans, in my humble opinion, from the unsafe to the very unsafe, yet in a strange way it makes travel exciting! You couldn’t write some of the things they come up with here. Many of the common modes of transport find themselves with double-barreled, onomatopoeic titles. For example, the Tuk-Tuk, which can only be described as a three wheeled motorbike with a hood. They say it’s called a Tuk-Tuk due to the machine-gun like sound it makes… tuk tuk tuk tuk tuk tuk tuk… that is comically rather accurate (and noisy).
The double-barreled titles continue with the bicycle which is addressed in kiswahili as the Boda-Boda and the kind of travel most associated with the village. The Boda-Boda, for me, is easily the most dangerous way to travel around town, especially as other drivers do not refrain from nudging the rear wheel if it happens to be impeding their journey! As well as holding little or no respect on the road, the Boda-Boda is slow and often more expensive!
This leads me to the motorbike and my dream of one day learning to ride one. Affectionately known as the Piki-Piki in East Africa, the motorbike is a must have commodity. In Kisumu, at least, I give this mode of transport top marks for its availability (at any time of the day) and general cost effectiveness (not forgetting the coolness factor). However, it’s the thrill of being whisked off through the dusty suburbs of Sub-Saharan Africa with the wind blowing in ones hair and the satisfaction of not having every inch of personal space invaded, much like on the matatu!
After seven months of testing the exciting modes of transportation, I thank God he has answered prayers and watched over my safety! He is faithful – that’s for sure!
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Kenya Days 8 - 10
Day 8
I arrived in the office by 9 and was thankful that Peter had a number of things for me to get on with that would last for a couple of weeks. I was just desperate to get stuck into something which would benefit the office. I was preparing the end of 4th quarter report which would be sent through to Nairobi and then to London. This was an opportunity to learn about every aspect of the office so I kept my head down. In the evening I accompanied Peter to a local radio station were he discussed the law surrounding civil marriage and also how it clashed with customary language. It was presented in the local language ‘Luo’ so I was unsure what exactly was being said. Before bed I got skype up and running and spoke to Mum, Joy, Dave Thompson and the HSBC help line as they had blocked my card… typical.
Day 9
Today I arrived at the office as usual and continued to work on the end of quarter report. I am starting to get into routine and am familiar with my surroundings. Today the office went for lunch together which was unusual yet a good bonding time. It was also nice to get outside the office for a while. We took an extended lunch break. After work I filmed a few things on my camera and spent much of the evening working on my first video diary which I plan to post online within the next week. I am quite isolated in the evenings but don’t mind because I have the internet. I called both Granda Nevin and Workman over Skype to check up on how they were. The connection was poor but all seems well.
Day 10
I woke up knowing tonight I would probably be moved to a smaller room in the apartment for the return of the Australian group. I spent a majority of the day analysing the Matrimonial Causes Act which we are using to present a radio programme in a couple of weeks time. It makes up 61 pages in ‘Word’ and 19000 words. Needless to say I was still reading through the early sections by the end of the day. It’s good to get stuck into some legislation as it feels like I’m getting involved in real legal work. By the end of the week I should be an expert in matrimonial law. There is very little food in my cupboard so a trip to the supermarket was needed – I’m unsure what to buy. Also I’m sure by June I will be sick of rice.
Kenya Day 7
After a good nights sleep I got out of bed around 8 and prepared to go to church for the first time. I met Peter and attended his place of worship, which is called ‘Chris Co’. I think there are a number of these churches throughout Kenya. First impressions were generally quite good although it’s difficult to judge initially.
The service lasted three and a half hours, which was long enough when battling the midday heat. The first hour was praise led by the full band and sound system supported by the 8 on-stage singers who had a mic each. Ballywatt would have been embarrassed to see the equipment. Most of the songs were in Swahili so I was unable to sing along, although the odd UK contemporary made it onto the play list.
The praise was somewhat dragged out but in many ways this seemed to be justified by the energy created from the congregation. At a point everyone was performing air guitar and giving high fives. Generally most started to dance and clapping was a prerequisite. It made me laugh but strangely I quite enjoyed it for someone who was never big into praise at the best of times. The church is of course embedded in the charismatic bracket and that sits fine with me as I don’t seek some backward, dead, establishment.
Apart from the praise, everything was spoken in English then translated (this explains to a certain extent the length of the service). During the sermon the constant translation is difficult to get used to and the talk wasn’t in my opinion overly brilliant. Then again I didn’t experience much prosperity gospel, which I had been so keenly warned about and to be honest had anticipated.
After the service I went back to Peter’s for lunch and watched a film. I bought the meat for the meal and it was filling. I returned home and worked on my computer a little, then hit the sack.
The service lasted three and a half hours, which was long enough when battling the midday heat. The first hour was praise led by the full band and sound system supported by the 8 on-stage singers who had a mic each. Ballywatt would have been embarrassed to see the equipment. Most of the songs were in Swahili so I was unable to sing along, although the odd UK contemporary made it onto the play list.
The praise was somewhat dragged out but in many ways this seemed to be justified by the energy created from the congregation. At a point everyone was performing air guitar and giving high fives. Generally most started to dance and clapping was a prerequisite. It made me laugh but strangely I quite enjoyed it for someone who was never big into praise at the best of times. The church is of course embedded in the charismatic bracket and that sits fine with me as I don’t seek some backward, dead, establishment.
Apart from the praise, everything was spoken in English then translated (this explains to a certain extent the length of the service). During the sermon the constant translation is difficult to get used to and the talk wasn’t in my opinion overly brilliant. Then again I didn’t experience much prosperity gospel, which I had been so keenly warned about and to be honest had anticipated.
After the service I went back to Peter’s for lunch and watched a film. I bought the meat for the meal and it was filling. I returned home and worked on my computer a little, then hit the sack.
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