Settling-in Nairobi, Kenya

I was very nervous, but also excited, as my plane touched down at the Jomo Kenyatta Airport – so named after the first president of Kenya after it achieved independence from the British in 1963 – in Nairobi on Friday, January 5th. As we landed, I saw no modern skyscrapers as in Johannesburg, or mountains and sea as in Cape Town, but open country. Upon my ride from the airport, I immediately felt I had landed in a developing country, but one that seemed beautiful, exotic and chaotic all at once. Giraffes wandered in a field just off the airport highway, the same one that leads to Mombasa on the coast, a two-lane road without painted lines and in bad need of repair. Cars were backed up for miles on this Friday afternoon, which gave hundreds of young men the opportunity to approach my car window and hawk peanuts, belts, even neon road signs (should I have been in need of one). Men on dilapidated bikes weaved in and out of the traffic, which itself formed a snake-like line. Women sold goods in informal shops set up along the roadway. With my windows down, even with all the exhaust, the air seemed fresh and I could smell the smell of wood burning fires – a distinct smell to me that I first identified in Tanzania last summer, and identify with Africa.

After winding our way through the streets of downtown Nairobi, I made it to the guest house where I will stay through February (pictured here), a modern house owned by a very interesting, and somewhat eccentric, couple named Simon and Karen (both of British descent). The house is located in the northwest part of Nairobi, in a very nice, green and quiet neighborhood called Rosslyn, near the United Nations compound and the MDG (for Millennium Development Goals) Centre where I will work this year, and just across the street from a large housing division for American embassy workers. Simon, who was born in Kenya but attended boarding schools and university in England, is an architect and built the home. It has lovely gardens and verandas, 3 dogs, 1 cat, 4 geese, 1 guard, 1 gardener and 2 wonderful domestic workers named Joyce and Wambui, who wash and iron my clothes to perfection. I am the only guest staying there and after I arrived and began finally – after 2 ½ months – to unpack, they asked me to join them for dinner. I felt disoriented that evening: I had been dropped off in, what felt like, the middle of nowhere; I had no idea how to get around and buy my own supper should I have wanted to do so; I had lost the “First World” comforts of Cape Town; and I then sat down for a dinner of sheperd’s pie with two complete strangers, as a guest in their house.

On Saturday, I think Karen felt a bit sorry for me after I went out with a driver to explore Nairobi and arrived back after only a few hours, still a bit disoriented and confused about life in Nairobi. So she immediately invited a few people over for drinks and to meet me. Christophe, a French guy working at UNHabitat, and Christina, an Italian working at the UN Environmental Program, came over and then, also probably feeling sorry for me, invited me to join them for dinner. We had dinner at a very good Asian “fusion” restaurant with other UN and NGO people from all over the world living in Nairobi. That evening – getting out for dinner, meeting very interesting people, and having interesting and, for me, different conversations – made me excited for the coming year.

I also had my first brush with the Kenyan police as, on the way to dinner, Christina, driving a borrowed car, was pulled over randomly by a policeman carrying a very large semi-automatic rifle. He shined a flashlight on me, sitting in the back seat without a seat belt – when there was not one to put on –and started to intimate that some sort of fine would be due to him because of this. Christina handed him her UN identification and he immediately let us go. I am told that if she had been driving her car, with the red license plates of a UN official, we would not have been pulled over in the first place.

The next morning, on Sunday, I went for a run in the neighborhood. Unlike in Cape Town, I now see mostly black Africans when out and about, including, while out for my run, several Masai, the men with large holes in their ear lobes, wearing colorful red and purple robes and carrying clubs. Even though it is summer, the weather is very mild in Nairobi because of the altitude, so running was pleasant. That afternoon, Karen and Simon invited Christophe and Christina back over for lunch, along with two other friends of theirs, a British expat couple, the husband of which, like Simon, is a long-time Kenyan architect. We sat on a veranda, talked, drank wine and nibbled on bread, cheese, paté, fresh vegetables and fruits for hours that afternoon. And we discussed everything – from Kenyan politics (lucky for me to witness, this is now a presidential election year here in Kenya, so there will be plenty to discuss) and government corruption, to Somalia and America’s role, to Kenyan safari parks and Mt. Kenya, to Kenyan literature and development work.

The next morning, Monday, January 8th, after I sat down for the daily breakfast with Simon and Karen – set out each morning by Joyce or Wambui on an outdoor veranda (situated on the left side of house, in the picture): freshly sliced fruit, granola, toast, and an assortment of jams, teas, coffee and newspapers – my driver took me to the MDG Centre, just next door to the U.N. I felt very thrilled to be working in Nairobi for the year!