Tuesday, February 23.2016

I owe a debt of gratitude to Levi Hutchins.  My alarm went off at 8am (his only worked at 4) and I think I started to hear it around 8:10.  I was still a couple minutes late to breakfast with John at 9. 

My first problem began when I looked at the shower.  4 knobs!  Really?!  That was a 10 minute learning curve. Once you figured out how the “hot” worked, it was a breeze.  The European influence was a little more prevelant here – when I stood facing the shower head, my right shoulder was touching the wall and my left shoulder pushing out the curtain.  Every time I turned, the shower curtain opened. The water was hot and never ran out, so who cares?

I started writing this while I was waiting for our lunch, but now I’m sitting in bed watching TV. Twenty-five stations are made up of 5 soccer channels, 5 music channels, 5 really poorly English-dubbed soap operas, Spiderman, and 9 news channels from around the world.  You’ll never guess what I’m watching.  Back to our day.

This English dubbed soap opera just made me laugh so I
thought I'd share it.  It's only 12 seconds.

Breakfast was good and the ride to the Safari Park Hotel took about 15 minutes.  Traffic was light and the only bump in the road was a speed bump in the middle of the highway – yes, it was there on purpose.  John commented on how nice the roads are.  My response was, “That’s all going to change on Thursday.”  The potholes in Kisumu and Maseno are legendary.  They are well beyond “teeth-chattering.”  “Stress-fracturing” might be more appropriate.  Yes, Karen, I know that’s not a word.

It’s a beautiful hotel, but not beautiful enough for $300/night.  Again, to put int in perspective, when we go to Maseno, it’s $25/night.  Despite the glaring differences between the two cities, John continues to be excited about that part of the trip.  It’s always a blessing to come here with friends, and the added gift of watching their faces as they share in new experiences is simply fabulous. 

The Jambo Room was surrounded with lush, green plants, and two large wooden entranceways adorned with carvings of animals. When we entered the space dedicated for the summit, it was a beehive of activity.  All of the frames were up for the vendors with booths, but there was still quite a bit of work to be done.  When we got to John’s (QualiCeutics) booth, we had to do some rearranging and set up work, so it was VERY good that we were there early.  They had to go get some additional items so we’ll be heading over at 7am tomorrow to make sure it meets with John’s approval.  While we were working, some of the organizers came over and introduced themselves and talked a bit about our trip in and the summit itself.  It was nice that John was able to put faces to the names he’s been dealing with leading up to the event. We had several strangers approach us as well.  They, however, were just looking for work; “Can I help you set up your booth?” “Would you like me to man your booth while you walk around?”  I’ve got to give them credit, they’re just trying to make a living.

The ride back to the Hilton was much more exciting.  The traffic was heavy and there was lots of weaving.  More busses than matatus, but they were similarly adorned with all kinds of logos and personalized messages.  I never felt like we were going to get into an accident, but it was enough to make me start to feel nauseous.  I was happy that we were stuck in traffic for a few minutes.  The lane next to us started moving, As the space next to us opened up, I turned toward John and through his window I saw an interesting logo – “San Diego Comic Con.”  I instantly started feeling better and, oddly enough, wished Kevin was here to see it.  The moment was so quick that I never got the chance to take a picture (even though I was ready this time).  Oh well.

We got back to the hotel and went right out to reactivate the sim card in my phone.  The office for Safaricom was within walking distance, but it wasn’t an easy find.  Once there, I was placed in a cue for about 30 minutes.  The cue was unusual; it was two rows of resin chairs.  When someone got up from the first seat, everyone moved down a seat.  It was rather comical, but was a good indication as too how long we’d be waiting.  I finished up shortly after John returned from a very short shopping expedition.  He had forgotten a black belt for his suits and was trying to hunt one down.  On our walk back to the hotel he told me about his experience.  The only part that really stands out was his comment, “I think it’s a woman’s belt.  I have to use the first hole.”  He showed it to me while we sat down for lunch.  He’s right.  It’s a woman’s belt.  I tried to make him feel better, “Maybe it’s a small boys belt.”  “Nope,” he replied. “It’s definitely a woman’s belt.”  Yes, it is.  It will do the trick.  We don’t want his trousers dropping to the floor during his presentation, but it would certainly change up the “Questions and Answer” portion.

Everyone that knows me (or reads this blog) knows that up until now, I’ve really avoided Nairobi like a plague.  Walking around today actually easier than walking through Kisumu.  The city seems less congested with people.  John’s perspective was a bit different; he thought there was a lot of foot traffic.  When John was walking alone, he was aware of eyes on him, but it was only a few of the younger men he saw.  Most of the glances I got were not as concerning.  I get the, “look at the size of that freak” look.  In fact, when we were going to the pool restaurant for a bit, a woman next to me in the elevator had her back to me when we entered (her focus was on her cell phone), but when the doors opened to let us out, she went wide eyed and burst into laughter.  “Oh,” was the only word she uttered.  We had a brief exchanged and shared in the laughter as the doors closed.  John certainly got a kick out of it.

He enjoyed a BLT while I continued to ask questions about his work.  I had a chicken and avocado salad.  Don’t look so surprised.  Both were very good.  We grabbed a coke to go and wandered back to our rooms to do some work before tomorrow.  I was thrilled when they gave us a glass of ice with the soda.  A. GLASS. OF. ICE. I'm getting spoiled.  

The timing of our meals went a bit haywire this afternoon.  We had lunch at about 4, so our planned on dinner at 7:30.  As it turned out, we left the hotel at 7:30.  We asked the bellman outside where to go for dinner and he made a few suggestions.  We had a pretty animated exchange of ideas.  He suggested we go to Trattoria.  I asked him if the food was good.  “Oh yes, very nice.  Very good.  Very OK.”  While standing in front of him, I turned to John and said, “Understand that his is how every Kenyan will answer anything you say to them. ‘I am bleeding to death.’ ‘Okay, very nice.’”  The bellman laughed out loud arching his back.  We joked a bit more before e gave us walking directions to the restaurant. “Five minutes,” he said.  Once again, “John, if a Kenyan ever tells you, ‘Five minutes’ or it’s going to take 20.  If they say, ‘it’s just he-ya’ or it’s just they-ah,’  you’re not going to make it.”  That elicited another belly laugh.  I’m sure he’ll ask us how it was tomorrow…. He was already gone when we returned.  He was right, though.  It was more like a 10 minute walk, but well worth it.  John had a chicken dish with a mushroom sauce.  I had the “rump steak” (insert joke of your choice) with potatoes and string beans (Karen’s favorite).  We each had a beer (White Cap) while we talked about tomorrow’s events.  There was much to discuss because there will be times when I’m covering the booth for him, but I certainly can’t speak about his business.  We agreed on a strategy that I’ll elaborate more on tomorrow… assuming it works.

We finished our beer and food, decided against desert, and started our walk home.  This walk was a bit different.  The shops along the route had all closed so the lighting wasn’t so hot.  It was 9:30, so in the words of Whodini, “the freaks come out at night.”  I can hear everyone Googling now… hopefully the page is still up from the Levi Hutchins reference earlier – that’s how I found him!  So these two white guys are walking along a poorly lit street in Nairobi.  The punch line comes later.  Almost immediately after breaking the threshold of the restaurant, two women approached us asking for money for them and their baby.  The baby was a bunch of poorly wrapped towels.  John shook his head and said, “no.”  I did the same.  They followed nonetheless.  I turned to John and said, “Wow, they’re still following us,” then turning to the woman to his left and said, “you’re going to be walking for awhile.”  Although that made John laugh, it did nothing to discourage the woman.  Her friend was walking behind us, but closing the gap.  Finally I had enough. “Suduru! Tokeni hapa!” I yelled.  Well, it wasn’t really a yell, but it was serious enough that they immediately turned around and walked away.  Oh, BTW, that pretty much means, “get lost.”  The literal translation is “Provide space!  Move from this place!”  “Get lost” sounds more ominous.

I took a different tactic with the next group that picked up where the ladies left off.  A group of 5 boys.  Began following us asking for money for bread.  I didn’t think they were drunk because their English was pretty clear.  Also, a couple of them were probably 12 years old.  We said, no, they continued to follow.  Interestingly enough, it was one of the twelve year olds that said, “Is it okay if we rob you?”  Strike one.  I chose not to correct their procedural shortcomings.  Instead, I turned around and laughed at them.  Now, this would not have been my posture if any of them were more over 5’5”.  Regardless, we just kept walking.  “Oh you think that’s funny?”  Asked the twelve year old.  He had to repeat the comment several times before I turned my head to acknowledge that I heard him.  We were getting close to a well lit corner that was a resting spot for 3 or 4 taxi drivers who were standing outside their cars chatting.  There were security guards about every 15 feet protecting storefronts, but they wouldn’t have lifted a finger to help us.  The cabbies, however, would.  These kinds of punks are bad for business and most adults don’t tolerate bad behavior from youngsters (the oldest one in the group may have topped off at 19).  I stopped under what appeared to be the only streetlight and turned around abruptly squaring off in front of them.  John stopped just behind be and stood next to a security guard.  When I turned around, three of the boys took a couple big steps back and their eyes got pretty wide.  I don’t think they were expecting me to do that, and although my size is fairly static (stop laughing), I am apparently much larger if your standing a foot away from me.  After they emptied their lungs from the gasp they took, I asked them what they wanted.  

“Money for bread.  We ah hungry.” 

I said, “What do I get out of this?” 

The 12 year old said,  “We will pray that God showahs you weeth belesseengs,” clasping his hands together in prayer and bending down on one knee.

“He already has,” I responded.  Strike two.

“We will seeng you songs.  I’m a musician; a  seenga,” the eldest said.

“Okay, what do you seeng?”

“I seeng heep-hop.”  Strike three.

“Oh,” I said. “That’s too bad.  Hip-hop gives me a headache and makes me feel nauseous.  Sorry fellas, you lost your chance.” 

I turned and walked toward John and out of the corner of my eye, saw them walk away looking somewhat defeated.   I envisioned the 12 year old saying, “I told you that you should have said Country music.”

At that point, we were probably 50 yards from the hotel, so we walked in and grabbed a coffee to go, went up to the executive lounge and recounted the evening’s festivities.  John said that he never felt intimidated and was pleased that I got rid of the ladies.  I’m not sure what he thought when I stopped walking and confronted the boys, but it all worked out pretty well.  Andrea was not terribly pleased with me when I relayed this story to her.  “It’s a good thing they didn’t kill you, because I’m going to.”  She’s joking.  She won’t really kill me...  Yeah, I’m pretty sure.  Facetime is a wonderful thing!  When Jim and I started traveling to Kenya 10 years ago, the best we could do is speak over a satellite phone; taking small steps as we talked to account for the movement of the earth.  It does wonders for my state of mind to be able to see the people you love while you talk to them, and it means a lot to have your family be the last people you speak to before falling asleep.  That’s where I am now.  I talked with Andrea and Katie, then I FaceTimed Karen  Her first comment was, “Yo!  You have a king size bed?!  Mr. Osler’s going to be so surprised when you get to Maseno.  You should go unscrew his toilet seat and take it.”  In every jest a little truth doth lie.  I’m am incredibly blessed with a family that can always make me laugh.  It’s 4:30pm back home so I’m hoping that after I post pictures and short video I’ll be able to speak to Kevin; assuming he’ll be done work at 5.  That will be 1am for me.  Yes, that’s very disappointing when I’ve got a 14 hour day ahead of me.
I hope you’ve enjoyed today’s blog.  It was filled with a lot, but I’m still coming up short on pictures.  I’ll try harder tomorrow… lot of action photos of John!  See you soon.