It is with a tripping heart that I came once again to Nairobi. I had so much to do, so little time in front of me and so many variables out of my control. I landed in the early morning, with a clear sky that let me look at the dry lands separating the Ethiopian border with Kenya.
I stumbled upon the British Institute in Eastern Africa almost by accident. Lost between cosy houses in sleepy Kileleshwa, I did not have specific expectations about the place I was going to stay at. I was far from expecting that it would be the complete opposite of my former stay in Kenya in terms of social life…
Upon my arrival, I already headed to the office, trying to make those three weeks as productive as possible. Meetings, waiting in dusty ministries, bureaucracy: I paid myself a guided tour in the dark sewers of the Kenyan state. In all fairness, I was pretty impressed by how professional and helpful civil servants prove to be, especially given the bad press state officials tend to receive.
Work went so well, I almost couldn’t believe it. The students I hired worked real hard, the colleagues at the Ministry always went the extra mile and all stakeholders were really cooperative. I honestly did not expect to get that much done!
I sadly did not manage to do much of tourism – I missed a trip to the white beaches of Mombasa, since almost every day was a work day. Yet, I used the 24 hours in a day wisely, by sleeping an average of 4 hours. Let’s say that the tremendous amount of sun helped me to change my lazy swedish sleeping habits, not without mentioning the hectic social life that kept me up at night. I stayed long hours on the porch, sipping delicious beverages with my BIEA colleagues, sometimes up to the time the morning guards came to work…
My work took me to both the extreme western part of the country, only at a couple of kilometers from Uganda. My busy schedule made it such that I had to rearrange the proposed time plan, so that I travelled on my own with dodgy shuttles throughout the country, without the assistance of the provided drivers at the Ministry of Agriculture (to the greatest surprise of my Kenyan counterparts: What? You are a mzungu, you can’t travel like that!). The craziest part was definitely coming back from the drylands of the Eastern province, where we managed to fit 26 people in a 14 seater with tyres to the thread, driving at 120km/h with the door open to fit more in, while playing loud reggae music. I almost got attacked when I came back to the dodgy bus terminal, but my inner monster scared that wacko… I also got robbed on another occasion (my phone got lost, as they say in Kenya), but I couldn’t care less…
Kenya was beautiful last time I was there, but this time, it came to life. I met extremely kind people on the farms, competent and smart students, and amazing expats in my social spheres. John, this hilarious 6’5 » kenyan, Hugh and Dave, those british knights of the Ice, Abby, Roopa, Jennifer and Sandra, smart and beautiful american girls and Amanda, this curious and talkative swedish girl I met on a mango farm. I came to love those folks in a matter of days, it was so sad I had to leave already. And I got to hang out with my lovely german host sister Christina, because the world is a ridiculously small village.
I will never forget my time there and I just can’t wait to get back. Sorry Mom, it seems I won’t settle for real in Montréal anytime soon…
Thanks to Roopa for some of the pictures!
