The Final Chapter

One week.

That’s all the Kenya that’s left for me. It’s beginning to get weird to do things that have been normal for the past four months and to think that there’s so little time left of doing them. I’ll say my goodbyes at the end of this post.

First, it has been an odd mix of eventful and lack thereof in the past month or so. After my last post, I went to a regional meeting for two days with about 25 ActionAid people. They, including Francis, had been there for the entire week, but Teresia and I headed there on Thursday with the intention to stay till the end of the meeting Friday afternoon. However, Teresia had to leave for a meeting in Nairobi, so I ended up staying by myself. Fortunately, I already knew a lot of the people as Charlotte and I had met them on our first visit to Isiolo in November. Although the meeting in itself did not provide me with much new/useful information, it was however an interesting study in management and coordination.

I spent the weekend writing the weekly paper for my distance-learning class and returned to Naro Moru and the ActionAid office on Monday. Most of the week was spent in the office with Francis working and me – well, I got to do a lot of reading. Thursday night I packed all of my things as I got ready to leave Nanyuki for good. Friday I left for Nairobi, ran an errand in the city and had lunch before heading to the airport to pick up the rental car as the first step in the imminent arrival of cousin Marie. After getting the car I could not have been more relieved to find it equipped with automatic gear. I had braced myself for the challenge of driving a manual, so the relief was great! The Toyota Corolla was in great shape and I certainly felt more confident about this car than the last one. My trusty taxi driver waited with me and helped inspect the car as I had asked him to drive in front of me from the airport to the hotel. I had picked a hotel close to the airport to avoid going through the city and as we headed back in the Friday afternoon rush hour, I was so glad I had made that decision. Everything went fine and I was only slightly trembling when we reached the hotel.
Saturday morning I headed back out to the airport and spent the better part of 30 minutes trying to find a parking space. I don’t understand what all those people were doing there at 6.30 in the morning! After some inpatient waiting, I finally got a space although Marie had already landed and now ended up waiting for me. We found each other and made our first wrong turn trying to get out of the airport and on to the new bypass going north. Soon though we were on the right track and I delighted in the fact that I once again was with wonderfully familiar company – and that I was driving myself around. I never thought I would enjoy driving again so much.

With both me and Marie in the car there would be no chance of loud music not being played.

As I had left most of my luggage in Nanyuki, we started with lunch in the burning sun in town(with red skin to show for it subsequently), then headed to the house, picked up the bags and cuddled the new family puppy before headed to Ol Pejeta Conservancy. You might recall that Charlotte and I visited the place with Francis in late January. I really liked the place and had booked us a permanent tent at Sweetwaters Tented Camp within the conservancy. After paying the fees at the park entrance, we took a detour on the way to the camp as we spotted a herd of giraffes off the path we were supposed to take.

We even came across a lone elephant next to the road as we approached the camp. Perfect start to the first day. Upon arrival at the camp we were greeted with a glass of juice and a warm, wet towel. The raised tent was awesome with a bathroom three times the size of the one in my apartment (it is pretty small, but still) and a balcony with a slightly obstructed view of the waterhole.

A view from the entrance of the tent.

The water hole is visible behind the front row of tents.

Dinner was a feast and when we got back to the tent, we had been provided with hot-water-bottles under the covers of the bed, which during the cold night turned out to be there for a reason. We spent Sunday and Monday heading out in the park in the morning, coming back for lunch, hanging out by or in the pool

By the pool, overlooking the water hole and Mt. Kenya while putting finishing touches on a school paper.

and then going out again in the late afternoon before coming back for dinner. We adamantly searched the vast lands for lions, but as we had chosen to go by ourselves rather than take a guide, we did not quite manage. Instead we had a blast just touring the space in the company of zebras,

warthogs,

ominously looking buffalos (those things are scary),

various gazelles,

a few rhinos(Marie is an excellent rhino-spotter)

and several elephants. We came upon elephants in all areas of the park with a few significant experiences to tell: in one of the far corners we came upon a large herd of about 15 elephants strolling quietly along,

and two nights in row a small group came to the waterhole in the camp where we were 2 meters from them(there was sort of a fence between us) as they feasted on the prickly acacia-trees in the dark. They sure are impressive animals.

I had asked the hotel to make a cake for Marie on her birthday and much to her embarrassment and my delight, the sweet staff brought us the cake on Monday night to their singing of birthday songs.

Tuesday morning we went into town to get supplies for Wednesday’s road trip before heading to OLPHEC, a children’s home and school I’ve previously visited a couple of times. We met with the priest and were put in front of the kids for an official greeting and appreciation of our visit. They did a couple of songs before being dismissed back to their classes. Being with the priest is always inspirational and we both left wishing we could do more.

One of the older classes at OLPHEC

Marie talks to one of the teachers, who is a former student at OLPHEC.

Wednesday morning we got our lunch-boxes from the kitchen and got on our way. To avoid rocky roads, we went to Nyeri to go to Nyahururu instead of cutting across at Naro Moru like Charlotte and I had done over Christmas. The road was excellent – at least some of the way. Out of the blue, seemingly, it became a nightmare of potholes and rocks. I have no idea how long it went on for, I just know it was ridiculously annoying and I started to doubt whether we would actually make it to Naivasha before night fall if the entire rest of the way there would be that bad. It had been our intention to stop for lunch and a walk at Thompson’s Falls, but when we finally got there we just wanted to keep going in case the road would continue in that condition, so once again Thompson’s Falls was a miss. Fortunately the road improved as we came out of Nyahururu and headed south into the Rift Valley.

Enjoying our lunch in the Rift Valley - although the fold-out table of Olsen-family fame is clearly missing.

A few hours, a wrong turn, a break to study the map then ask for directions, a close encounter with a speed bump and another patch of rocky and very sandy road later we arrived at Crater Lake camp in late afternoon. The poor car really deserved the break and after close inspection did not seem to have suffered as badly as we thought. The friendly staff took us down the 100-and-then-some steps to our wonderful tent overlooking the crater lake.

The Crater Lake tent.

View of Crater Lake.

Thursday morning we met with one of the guides and went for a walk around the rim of the crater.

A view of the crater from the highest point.

A giraffe hangs out by the shore as the camp sits peacefully on the opposite side of the lake.

It really proved to me how insanely out of shape I am as I struggled to climb the rocks to the highest point, but the view was gorgeous and by the time we came back down a couple of hours later, I felt really good about having gotten some serious exercise for the first time in months. After a few hours by the pool we went back to the tent to change, just to find that a group of monkeys had raided our snack-bag.

This one may or may not be one of the culprits in the tent raid.

The cheeky bastards had run off with our marshmallows although the stolen tissues had been abandoned in front of the tent. We cleared up, hid the food and met with a different guide who took us around the small reserve in which Crater Lake is placed. We walked around the lake, looked at the lone hippo living there and came across a herd of giraffes hanging out in the forest.

Find Holger/Where's Waldo?

They seemed fairly used to humans and curiously watched us as we passed by them in close proximity. Outside the crater we encountered zebras and gazelles and kept a safe distance to a buffalo herd headed for the water hole. It felt so good to have walked around after several days of sitting in a car – and I slept really well that night.

Friday morning we headed to Hell’s Gate, another national reserve close by. It gets its name from the gorge that cuts through the park and most likely just as much from the intense geothermal energy roaring in the underground. Inside the park are several power plants that emanate white smoke from chimneys hidden in the hill sides.

See the white weird-looking lines in the middle of the picture? Smoke from the powerplants.

We parked at the ranger station after a short trip down a dangerously steep slope of a road and were presented with the route options: 1, 2 or 3 hours. We soon agreed on the three hour walk, “since we’re here anyways”. It was not a mistake, but it sure as heck was hot and hard. I was really happy I had packed Charlotte’s extensive First-Aid kit in the bag even though we fortunately didn’t have use for it. There was some climbing up and down rocks with a bit more of a drop that I would normally have liked. But our guide was very pro and accommodating and we all made it to and from without injuries.

Had to document one of the drops we conquered!

The trip was worth it to walk in the gorge where one could easily imagine the power of the water after heavy rains and to see the boiling water coming from the ground.

Out of the gorge and into the canyon.

Watching a boiling pit.

On the way back we stopped at a nearby lake to look at the pink sea of thousands of flamingos congregated there.

Back to camp, the rest of the day was spent at the pool before a walk up to the rim to watch the sunset.

Saturday morning we climbed the stairs to the top(thankfully, the staff carried the bags) and headed towards Nairobi. When I had originally planned the trip I figured that ending in Naivasha would be good because it is closer to Nairobi than Nanyuki. However, what I had not taken into consideration was the fact that Naivasha is on the complete opposite side of the city of the airport. I had sworn to never drive in Nairobi, but there was no way to escape that. As Marie’s flight was not till midnight, we had time to kill and opted to do the rightfully mzungu thing and headed to Westgate Mall – the most American thing in Kenya. We did some shopping, had lunch and awesome ice-cream and finally braced ourselves for the drive across town to the hotel. I was very grateful to have paid attention when others had driven me around on previous occasions, and we managed to make it through the four or five major roundabouts from Westgate to the hotel without hurting anyone including ourselves and the car. It’s really all about going with the flow – and possibly a quiet prayer to the traffic gods doesn’t hurt.
We hung out at the hotel bar and had dinner before heading to the airport. I hate driving in the dark, but we managed fine and eventually had to say goodbye. I had chosen to wait and not return the car until Sunday morning, so there was a lot of back and forth to the airport between Saturday night and Sunday morning, as it may have been a subconscious excuse to get to drive some more.
It was completely awesome to have Marie with me for the week. Being used to travelling alone, I have been pleasantly surprised by my co-vacations over the past year as to how great it really can be to travel with someone you love.

I might as well admit to my blatant naïveté right away. I really thought things would be different this time around for the internship, but yep, you guessed it: I was wrong yet again. When I was on the ActionAid retreat I had briefly met with the people in charge at Mwingi to say hello and confirm the dates of my arrival. We agreed to talk more about the shape of the three weeks once I got there. Since that meeting, I had heard nothing more from them – and Teresia, who was in charge of finding housing for me, had not either despite numerous emails from both her and their team leader. I had packed to leave Nanyuki, so I was ready to go to Mwingi on that Sunday after Marie left, but as I had not heard anything on Saturday night, I texted Teresia and we agreed that I had better come back to Nanyuki to sort things out. So I hauled all my things with me and went “home” Sunday. I went straight to Kongoni and confessed that I would be perfectly fine staying in Nanyuki. I know the town, I feel at home and it’s familiar. It was almost a relief to not have to start over again three weeks before departure, and I think Teresia was happy to not have to deal with the Mwingi people who seemed to be having some internal issues. I stayed the night at Kongoni and met with Francis on Monday. We agreed that we would plan day by day and he would tell me if there was anything interesting going on at the office so I would not waste my time going there for nothing. As he had nothing going on during the week, we agreed that I would join him on Saturday for a sponsorship event.

Two men fetches water from a river near their homes.
They each have another two containers on their bikes.

So Saturday morning we headed to Chaka and spent most of the day with a large group of kids there. Most of them are sponsor-kids so the day was about having some fun and for them to write letters to their sponsors in the UK. 

The kids write their letters while the guy in the white hat is entertaining them.

Once they were done, they had a few competitions on the football field – one of which I was forced to participate in.

After the kids had their dance competition, the adults were up and although I desperately tried to hide and decline, the continued shouts of mzungu eventually forced me to join. Afterthe first round of careful trotting in place, I decided that I might as well give the kids something to tell their friends about and went a little dance-nuts for a couple of rounds before being declared the winner over Francis in the finale. I know that video footage exists, but sure hope it never goes public. I guarantee you it is not pretty!

The girls give it their all in the dance competition.

So here I am staring down the last week in Kenya. I feel like a novice and a veteran, like I’ve been here forever but just arrived. Although I am ready to go, I also feel like I could have stayed longer – though the circumstances would have had to change for that. But Kenya now holds a special place in my heart and I am certain that this will not be goodbye but rather see you again.

Before leaving I want to give thanks to a number of people who made a difference for me in the last five months. So thank you:
Charlotte – for being a great travel companion and everything else associated with the first two and half months.
Teresia – for being awesome, flexible, helpful, caring and the person to call for anything and everything.
Francis – for being the best guide to all things Kenyan, for going out of his way to make us happy and for being willing to discuss the bigger picture.
Maggie, Elvie and Ivan – for being the best Kenyan host family one could wish for and for always having open doors and a bed for me sleep in.
Dorcas – for the food, the clean clothes, the making of the bed and for being the sweet woman she is.
Rachel – for being willing to listen to and share in the hardships and annoyances, for being the best back-yard neighbor and for peanut butter sandwiches in times of need, American cookies and secret pizza.
David – for hours of cross-Atlantic Facebook-conversation to distract me from boredom and school work.
Marie – for coming to share a piece of Kenya with me.

If I could name one, and only one, thing that I would miss about Kenya, I think I would have to say the space. Those open plains get me every time. But seeing as I am the boss of this list, I decide that I can name more than one thing I will miss: the warmth of both the weather and the people, the hospitality, the smiles, the handshakes, certain elements of the food and having found a new place in the world where I can see myself living someday in the future.

That said, there are certainly things I miss and look forward to at home too. Just to mention a few: washing clothes in a machine(my socks have not felt clean since week two), food variety, eating fruit and salad without fearing diarrhea, decent public transportation, rugbrød, not living out of a bag, fast and reliable internet, being able to walk outside after dark, not having dust and dirt everywhere, changing seasons, my bed, my bike, though I never thought I’d say this, but going for a run and last but definitely not least, my family and friends.

One last thank you is in order and that goes to you reading this blog. Thank you for giving me a reason to write this, it has been my pleasure to find an audience to share my thoughts and observations with and I look forward to seeing you all soon again.

Tutaonana baadaye.