The response to my “Swahili Primer” in the last blog was absolutely great. All the closet Zulu fans and Xhosa queens came out of the woodwork at the same time. I immediately got questions about Xhosa terms (uQabandini, said with a full-palate click to the front of the mouth and meaning someone who hasn't been to 'school' but still holds strong opinions), and reams of comparisons between Swahili and the dominant local language in South Africa .
Hey guys, I didn’t realize how tsotsi-literate you all are! The only negative response I got was from The Imp, here in Nairobi , who said my blog should carry a disclaimer to the effect that I either accept NO responsibility for my butchering of the Swahili language, or that I accept FULL responsibility for same. Too late now I guess but hey, I’m trying my best.
But what I have realized is that I wrote the Swahili primer at the very end of a writing day and there was a whole lot I left out – some of the most important stuff actually. So here is a little more complete version of Swahili 101 - but is actually only about just three words in Swahili … but three that are absolutely indispensable to know!
First things first, though: The DISCLAIMER … I hereby accept no responsibility whatsoever for any inaccuracies found in this text. This, because I have not just ONE, but TWO Swahili speakers who have checked my opinions and have edited my obvious errors. Having said this, let me blaze away and make a complete Swahili fool of myself, using, as I have, my sub-editors’ remarks as entirely discretionary input …
Of course, I do also have a marginal excuse in noting that Swahili is actually a very ‘hybrid’ language and is infused with Arabic, Portuguese, Persian, a little German, and quite a bit of English. Swahili is a lot less ‘pure’ than the Bantu languages of Zulu and Xhosa found in Mzansi, in the sense that there was little to infuse the Bantu with down there. Of course, the Zulu found on the streets of Jozi is an entirely different matter (which is why I referred to the tsotsi-literacy of some of you!).
Blundering Introduction to the First Edition:
Swahili is one of the most widely spoken of all African languages (probably followed by Zulu and its variants) and is probably accessible to near 100 million people in the East Africa region alone. However, it is the mother tongue to less than 20 million people. It is the regional lingua franca with roots that can be traced back to the first millennium AD! It is found in use throughout East Africa (Kenya, Tanzania, Uganda, Rwanda and Burundi) but is also spoken to the north - in parts of Somalia and Ethiopia - and as far south as northern Mozambique and Zambia.
The true Swahili people – mSwahilini – are people from “Coast” (province) - as opposed to the coast. The word ‘Swahili’ itself actually derives from the Arabic word for ‘coast’ and the language was originally the main means of communication between the coastal peoples – since the 700's - starting with a few boats landing at Zanzibar.
Today still, the most pure Swahili is considered to be found among the Zanzibaris, thereafter within greater Tanzania, followed quite a way later by the Swahili found in Kenya - with Nairobi Swahili considered to be ‘Sheng’ (Swahili slang) rather than true kiSwahili. I guess Nairobi Swahili is somewhat akin to Jozi isiZulu (hardly the stuff of high literary lexicons and dictionary discourse)! If truth be told (popular Nairobi expression), a journalist can run into trouble with his Tanzanian editor for an over-reliance on Nairobi Swahili!
Interestingly, the Swahili alphabet – formalized in the 1930’s – includes all the letters of the English alphabet except for ‘Q’ and ‘X’ – funnily enough, exactly those letters that are found so commonly in the Xhosa alphabet! Excuse the cultural stereotype, but it seems that the fabled Xhosa penchant for petty pilfering might have played a part here: seeing that mSwahilini were not using the ‘Q’ and the ‘X’ the Xhosa people thought they might look after the letters and place them in safekeeping for the Swahili!
The First ‘S’:
The word “sasa” (transliteration: saa-saa), in true Swahili, means ‘now’, as in “kuja hapa sasa!”, or “come here now!”. But in Nairobi sheng it denotes so much more. The first alternate (short) meaning is closest, I suppose, to the South African use of "Howzit?” and it might well be used when answering a phone call …
The phone rings. You ‘pick it’ (Kenyan for ‘answer it’) and say:
“Sasa?”
The response you are most likely to get is:
“Poa sana ” (transliteration: a ‘breathy’, ‘percussive’ poh-ah saa-na meaning "very good")
And the self-same question follows, again:
“Sasa?”
To which you'll get a:
"Poa-poa sana" if your buddy is really feeling good today.
Another, slightly more correct use of "sasa" is to say "now ... " but in a more 'open' sense.
It's used like:
"Now ... as I was saying"
As a means of re-opening a subject - perhaps a sensitive one - it is spoken softly and has a gentleness and un-intrusive subtlety that is very charming.
The Second “S”:
“Sema” (sair-mah) in proper Swahili means to 'speak' or to 'say something', yet it is used in a very similar way to “Sasa?” It is a more informal greeting than “Mambo?” and it means “What do you have to say?”, or “What’s up?”
Again, as with “Sasa?”, it essentially boils down to “How are you?” and again, the usual “Poa sana ” - or maybe a more moderate "nzuri sana" - is likely to follow.
“Sema?” has to be distinguished from “(Una) Sema nini?” meaning “You say what?”, which is a more direct question relating to what was just said, or to someone’s opinion of something.
My best was when I asked one of my researchers “Sema nini?”, to which she replied:
“Hakuna story” (“There is no story”).
These days I borrow her phrase when it's appropriate - and it seldom fails to raise a laugh.
By way of a small aside, you have to be careful when using variations of the "Hakuna" story ...
Hakuna matata ("no wurries")
Hakuna matatu ("there is no taxi")
Hakuna matako ("there is no ass")
Hakuna Mutoko ("Kiss FM's Caroline Mutoko is not on air")
Just a little laugh. But now for the ‘clincher’ of the ‘esses’:
The Third “S”:
The third “S” – “Sawa” (saa-waa) - is probably the most commonly used word in the Swahili language. Quite simply, it means “Ok”.
Any conversation will be infused with numerous uses of “sawa” along the way and if an arrangement has been made, the conversation will end with “sawa?” (“Ok?”), followed by the affirmative “sawa-sawa!” (“Ok-Ok!”).
In fact, it often closes a conversation or initiates departure, whether or not there has been any intervening arrangement. It is often just a warm, informal affirmation between friends and also suffices for the more formal “Kwa heri” (“good-bye”), which is seldom used.
The term, and its affirmative reply, are accompanied by many smiles and nods!
As a last rejoinder, I have to mention a rather risqué Bongo-Flava tune that made Tanzainia's Professor Jay famous in East Africa. Sung in Swahili obviously, it does the rounds in the clubs but is heard less often on radio, for reasons you’ll get …
It has a chorus consisting of two very short lines:
“HAPO vipi?” (“How is it THERE?”)
“HAPO sawa!” (“THERE is COOL/OK!”)
The sound of everyone singing it booms above the sound system (with “Sawa” being drawn out and sung as “Saaaaaawaaaaaaaaa!”).
The meaning is clear when the last line is accompanied by vigorous butt-wiggling and coy giggling on the part of the gals. Need I say more?
I have said it before and I shall go forth effusively again: The WAY the language is spoken, its syblent sounds, and the people that speak it, are all beautiful. Sheng commands my respect as a language that is highly dynamic, widely-used and highly descriptive and I’ll end this piece talking about a truly magnificent use of sheng on the streets:
The term “Mambo mbaye” is used in two completely opposite senses, depending entirely on the WAY it is said. Literally, the term means “Bad news”, but when applied to subjects like the quality of music, aesthetics (human or otherwise), or perhaps to the quality of THC, it takes on the same meaning as the term “wicked!” did in the UK some years back.
It takes this meaning only when the emphasis is placed on the second word, “mbaye” (“bad”), to which the affirmative reply might be “mbaye sana”, again with the emphasis on the second word.
What you're saying here is actually, "this is really good shit!"
When the emphasis is placed equally on the two words, it is to be understood more literally, as in “BAD NEWS”. Again, the reply could be “mbaye sana” but both the words will be spoken in a ‘level’ way, agreeing fully (kabisa) with the observation’s originator. A third, even greater agreement will, in fact, be had by the third-and-final inclusion of the agreement, “Kabisa!” ("Fully!"), in the comments.
And here, of course, the reference might be to a female predator trawling for customers at a downtown club. And, in this case, there will REALLY be NO joke contained in the reference at all!
More on this subject later …
Amani na mapenzi.
B-)
Showing posts with label matatus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label matatus. Show all posts
Salaam Mombasa!
Boxing Day 2008, Nairobi.
Everyone’s in Mombasa. As Cape Town is to Jozi, so Mombasa is to Nairobi. And right now, as in Jozi, the streets of Nairobi are empty. Not a jum in sight. Driving is a pleasure. And even on the open road it’s not the usual split-second struggle for survival either. Everything is pretty chilled. Hakuna Mutata.
In the company runaround vehicle that I’m using (a little Suzuki 850cc that goes like the blazes), it now takes me 5 mins to drive to and from the Nakumatt Ukay (open 24/7). Normally, during the business week, you can expect to take at least 15 minutes on either of the routes, to or from (but not necessarily going both ways).
Today I went all the way downtown looking for a particular CD shop (a shop that sells mainly East African product rather than the top-twenty selection at the mall). I found the store (Kassanga Music) closed, with its steel roll-a-door securely locked. But I managed to do the return journey, to and from Westlands, in 15 minutes (including the time it took me to stop the car and take a few of these snaps). If it weren’t for the holidays, this would be a complete fiction. I was even able to pull off the road and take a snap or two without being threatened by matatus or other oncoming traffic. (I have just noticed that the streets in these pics are entirely deserted (an entirely uncommon sight)!)
This ‘roundabout’ is the first of two I take on while driving to town on the Uhuru Highway. This is actually the view of this roundabout as you come out of town (you can see the slightly uphill gradient). The second roundabout is smaller, and leads onto University Way, past the University of Nairobi, and is one of the main routes into ‘uptown’ as well as ‘downtown’ Nairobi. From this second roundabout I can now find my way through most of Nairobi Central.
You can’t see it in the picture, but somewhere in the mass of billboards there is one from S.A. Tourism calling Kenyans (or tourists currently in Kenya?) to Explore the Possibilities of South Africa, featuring a Kenyan woman smiling in front of ‘The Mountain’ (as seen from Blouberg, of course). A few people have commented on it already and it’s a little source of nationalistic pride for me right now.
There is actually a lot of respect here for South Africa, and South Africans. South Africa is recognized as the ‘powerhouse’ in commerce and the arts, and South African music features quite heavily on the microwave media, and on radio. Before his untimely death, Lucky Dube was clearly a hero of the Kenyan people and he is played often on Metro, the local reggae station. And Rebecca Malope, along with other gospel-ites, feature prominently on local TV.
However, parallel with the respect that Kenyans have for S.A., there seems to be a definite ‘suspicion’ of South Africa. I’m sorry to say that I can’t always allay the fear that Kenyans seem to have for what they see as something of a South African ‘mentality’. If one thing is clear; 45 years of home-rule independence has left a mark here that South Africa can only hope to achieve in another 25 years! (And Kenyans REALLY can’t believe that Jacob Zuma is even allowed to stand for President of the country).
The biggest concern that Kenyans seem to have is the xenophobia thing that was very widely reported here. And I think it worries Kenyans because they themselves have experienced ‘xenophobia’ in the form of tribalism, post-elections, at the beginning of the year. They know just how ‘real’ internecine violence actually is, with I-don’t-know-how-many “I.D.P.’s” (Internally Displaced People) yet to be ‘repatriated’ and living in tents (a year later!) all over the country.
But even without the suspicion of South Africa, and despite the cool pic of The Mountain, dude, I can’t imagine S.A. Tourism having much pull here. Yes, the youth are expecting more from their country, but Kenyans on-the-whole, seem pretty satisfied with their lot. And, anyway, who would want to go anywhere else when the President himself goes on holiday to Mombasa (and delivers his Christmas Address from there: dominated by repeated pleas for Kenyans to drink moderately over the season).
The plea/s was/were probably quite necessary because, clearly, Kenyans need little excuse to have a good time. I first saw this mentioned on the Internet and it has proven to be very true. I have been to clubs and pubs, both uptown and downtown. Everywhere, people are having a good time. The drinks are flowing but I have yet to see any form of violence break out. At one place, last week, there was a guy complaining bitterly about the fact that he had left his beer on the shelf and had come back to find it gone. Bitch and moan, bitch and moan. That’s as far as it went and it’s the only local incident of any kind I have seen.
On the other hand, at one of Nairobi’s main spots, a night or two ago (whenever I was there) there was a Christian Somali couple (who speak a Swahili variant), drunk as Lords, having a marital tiff outside the club. The passing police saw the commotion and stopped, climbing slowly out of their old teal Land Rover. For about five minutes they just watched the scene unfolding, outside and inside the taxi that the couple had hired. When things looked like they were getting worse between the two, the cops started to intervene. The long and the short of it is that the cops landed up slowly ushering them both (with extreme care and caution) into the Land Rover. She, by far the worse for wear, got to sit in the dog box in the back. He got to sit as a passenger. The doorman at the club told me they were being taken to the station to take it easy for a while….
It was evidently the bombing of the US Embassy in ’98 that really got the local police force armed to the hilt and word has it that they are on high alert right now – expecting a possible – but unspecified - terrorist attack. But despite their threat of clear and present danger if you fuck with them, most of the time they seem fairly chilled.
Here the police are Maintaining peace: without it there can be no future.
The club I was at during the Somali incident, Madhouse, caters mainly for locals and features a wide mix of music genres in the night’s offering. The pop-dance material of Beyonce, Madonna or Cher drives the audience wild but it’s the Tanzanian Bongo Flava - or Arabic-inspired - tracks that create a frenzy! And I have to admit that East Africa’s indigenous sounds are talking to me. More and more. So much so that yesterday (27th December) I went downtown to find some Bongo compilation CD’s. No CD’s to be found, but for Ksh150 (less than R20 at today’s exchange rate) you can get a pirated DVD featuring a mix of videos of all the current chart-toppers.
The downtown streets are lined by only two types of shops. The first being shops selling mobile phones and electronic goods (run by Indians or Pakistanis). The other being shops that sell pirated music (run by black Kenyans)! Here and there one does find what we call a spaza shop on the downtown streets (also run by locals). In downtown Nairobi these shops will sell lots of different (often Indian) snack foods, along with some fresh fruit and the occasional stash of miraa (khat). (The Indian influence here is so strong that many Kenyans think samoosas are a Kenyan invention!) You don’t see it often, but chewing miraa downtown is more socially acceptable than in Westlands, as evidenced by this brand new sign outside the mall. (And it’s evidently the chilled folk of Meru, at the base of Mt.Kenya, that are famed for their “chewing”).
The biggest difference between Kenya and that place I call home, is that this is a highly literate society (despite the bad grammar on the sign). I get no less than three English language dailies delivered to my desk every morning (and that excludes the Nairobi Star). There’s the popular Standard – akin to where The Star or Argus are today – using popular English, but without colloquialisms. Then there’s the Daily Nation, which I consider to be good press. If I can only get to one paper during the day, this is my choice. There is also the Business Daily, printed on heavy Financial-Times-type paper and covering business in the whole East African region. Lastly, there’s also The East African, a Sunday weekly that reaches me on a Monday. All of S.A.’s big fashion fortnightlies and monthlies are on the supermarket shelves here, as are many of our stores to be found in the malls (Mr.Price, Standard Bank (Stanbic), Safaricom (MTN)). But Tusker Beer will beat any of SAB’s brands, any day. Often consumed warm by locals, I think it’s the only beer I have ever actually enjoyed!
Christmas Eve was spent at Jane’s place where she held her annual Christmas Eve party for friends and selected clients. Catered largely by her two sons (both of some culinary bent), we had a great spread of traditional Christmas fare, and a layout of sweets that defied choice.
As I left, I was presented with my Christmas gift from Jane. I nearly collapsed with joy at the combination Maasai blanket and Maasai carving (paperweight?) presented to me. With Jane being a Scotswoman, there’s something of the genes in her choice of blanket. But both artifacts will be treasured!
At the party I got to know my fellow Research Director (for Francophone West Africa), Jaime Laia; Jaime is from Portugal, speaks English, Portuguese, Spanish and French. His girlfriend, Melissa, works for the U.N. and speaks no less than six languages (but not Swahili, I gather). But most interesting for me was to find out that Jaime was a professional musician about five years ago! He owns an American Stratocaster guitar, a Gibson Les Paul guitar and has an array of classic guitar amps. Once we got talking, the joke quickly circulated that Jane has just lost both her new Directors (Jaime only started in March) to professional music.
So what will happen now? Apart from Jaime and I as potential band members, there’s Scott (educated at St. John’s, Johannesburg), Jane’s eldest boy, who can sing (I heard him privately belting out some Seal at the party)! Never mind Jane herself, who was singing with the Bob Marley CD in her car, all the way to Naivasha a few weeks ago. (Jane checks in at work around 10.00am, twice a week, after she’s been to her Latin dance class). If I get to work before 9.30, there’s almost no-one there! But they all work late to make up the time. Flexi-time has another meaning here.
But having been here for nearly a month now, I am probably slightly qualified to comment on the weather: it is incredibly invariant, with warm, but not hot, days, and pleasantly cool evenings. I actually couldn’t imagine a more perfect clime. One is tempted to wake up and say “Oh no, not another fucking beautiful day!” The sky almost always looks full of bulky clouds but it doesn’t move to rain. Not till ‘rainy season’ anyway.
Amani na mapenzi
B
Everyone’s in Mombasa. As Cape Town is to Jozi, so Mombasa is to Nairobi. And right now, as in Jozi, the streets of Nairobi are empty. Not a jum in sight. Driving is a pleasure. And even on the open road it’s not the usual split-second struggle for survival either. Everything is pretty chilled. Hakuna Mutata.
In the company runaround vehicle that I’m using (a little Suzuki 850cc that goes like the blazes), it now takes me 5 mins to drive to and from the Nakumatt Ukay (open 24/7). Normally, during the business week, you can expect to take at least 15 minutes on either of the routes, to or from (but not necessarily going both ways). Today I went all the way downtown looking for a particular CD shop (a shop that sells mainly East African product rather than the top-twenty selection at the mall). I found the store (Kassanga Music) closed, with its steel roll-a-door securely locked. But I managed to do the return journey, to and from Westlands, in 15 minutes (including the time it took me to stop the car and take a few of these snaps). If it weren’t for the holidays, this would be a complete fiction. I was even able to pull off the road and take a snap or two without being threatened by matatus or other oncoming traffic. (I have just noticed that the streets in these pics are entirely deserted (an entirely uncommon sight)!)
This ‘roundabout’ is the first of two I take on while driving to town on the Uhuru Highway. This is actually the view of this roundabout as you come out of town (you can see the slightly uphill gradient). The second roundabout is smaller, and leads onto University Way, past the University of Nairobi, and is one of the main routes into ‘uptown’ as well as ‘downtown’ Nairobi. From this second roundabout I can now find my way through most of Nairobi Central.You can’t see it in the picture, but somewhere in the mass of billboards there is one from S.A. Tourism calling Kenyans (or tourists currently in Kenya?) to Explore the Possibilities of South Africa, featuring a Kenyan woman smiling in front of ‘The Mountain’ (as seen from Blouberg, of course). A few people have commented on it already and it’s a little source of nationalistic pride for me right now.
There is actually a lot of respect here for South Africa, and South Africans. South Africa is recognized as the ‘powerhouse’ in commerce and the arts, and South African music features quite heavily on the microwave media, and on radio. Before his untimely death, Lucky Dube was clearly a hero of the Kenyan people and he is played often on Metro, the local reggae station. And Rebecca Malope, along with other gospel-ites, feature prominently on local TV.
However, parallel with the respect that Kenyans have for S.A., there seems to be a definite ‘suspicion’ of South Africa. I’m sorry to say that I can’t always allay the fear that Kenyans seem to have for what they see as something of a South African ‘mentality’. If one thing is clear; 45 years of home-rule independence has left a mark here that South Africa can only hope to achieve in another 25 years! (And Kenyans REALLY can’t believe that Jacob Zuma is even allowed to stand for President of the country).
The biggest concern that Kenyans seem to have is the xenophobia thing that was very widely reported here. And I think it worries Kenyans because they themselves have experienced ‘xenophobia’ in the form of tribalism, post-elections, at the beginning of the year. They know just how ‘real’ internecine violence actually is, with I-don’t-know-how-many “I.D.P.’s” (Internally Displaced People) yet to be ‘repatriated’ and living in tents (a year later!) all over the country.
But even without the suspicion of South Africa, and despite the cool pic of The Mountain, dude, I can’t imagine S.A. Tourism having much pull here. Yes, the youth are expecting more from their country, but Kenyans on-the-whole, seem pretty satisfied with their lot. And, anyway, who would want to go anywhere else when the President himself goes on holiday to Mombasa (and delivers his Christmas Address from there: dominated by repeated pleas for Kenyans to drink moderately over the season).
The plea/s was/were probably quite necessary because, clearly, Kenyans need little excuse to have a good time. I first saw this mentioned on the Internet and it has proven to be very true. I have been to clubs and pubs, both uptown and downtown. Everywhere, people are having a good time. The drinks are flowing but I have yet to see any form of violence break out. At one place, last week, there was a guy complaining bitterly about the fact that he had left his beer on the shelf and had come back to find it gone. Bitch and moan, bitch and moan. That’s as far as it went and it’s the only local incident of any kind I have seen.
On the other hand, at one of Nairobi’s main spots, a night or two ago (whenever I was there) there was a Christian Somali couple (who speak a Swahili variant), drunk as Lords, having a marital tiff outside the club. The passing police saw the commotion and stopped, climbing slowly out of their old teal Land Rover. For about five minutes they just watched the scene unfolding, outside and inside the taxi that the couple had hired. When things looked like they were getting worse between the two, the cops started to intervene. The long and the short of it is that the cops landed up slowly ushering them both (with extreme care and caution) into the Land Rover. She, by far the worse for wear, got to sit in the dog box in the back. He got to sit as a passenger. The doorman at the club told me they were being taken to the station to take it easy for a while….
It was evidently the bombing of the US Embassy in ’98 that really got the local police force armed to the hilt and word has it that they are on high alert right now – expecting a possible – but unspecified - terrorist attack. But despite their threat of clear and present danger if you fuck with them, most of the time they seem fairly chilled.
Here the police are Maintaining peace: without it there can be no future.The club I was at during the Somali incident, Madhouse, caters mainly for locals and features a wide mix of music genres in the night’s offering. The pop-dance material of Beyonce, Madonna or Cher drives the audience wild but it’s the Tanzanian Bongo Flava - or Arabic-inspired - tracks that create a frenzy! And I have to admit that East Africa’s indigenous sounds are talking to me. More and more. So much so that yesterday (27th December) I went downtown to find some Bongo compilation CD’s. No CD’s to be found, but for Ksh150 (less than R20 at today’s exchange rate) you can get a pirated DVD featuring a mix of videos of all the current chart-toppers.
The downtown streets are lined by only two types of shops. The first being shops selling mobile phones and electronic goods (run by Indians or Pakistanis). The other being shops that sell pirated music (run by black Kenyans)! Here and there one does find what we call a spaza shop on the downtown streets (also run by locals). In downtown Nairobi these shops will sell lots of different (often Indian) snack foods, along with some fresh fruit and the occasional stash of miraa (khat). (The Indian influence here is so strong that many Kenyans think samoosas are a Kenyan invention!) You don’t see it often, but chewing miraa downtown is more socially acceptable than in Westlands, as evidenced by this brand new sign outside the mall. (And it’s evidently the chilled folk of Meru, at the base of Mt.Kenya, that are famed for their “chewing”).
The biggest difference between Kenya and that place I call home, is that this is a highly literate society (despite the bad grammar on the sign). I get no less than three English language dailies delivered to my desk every morning (and that excludes the Nairobi Star). There’s the popular Standard – akin to where The Star or Argus are today – using popular English, but without colloquialisms. Then there’s the Daily Nation, which I consider to be good press. If I can only get to one paper during the day, this is my choice. There is also the Business Daily, printed on heavy Financial-Times-type paper and covering business in the whole East African region. Lastly, there’s also The East African, a Sunday weekly that reaches me on a Monday. All of S.A.’s big fashion fortnightlies and monthlies are on the supermarket shelves here, as are many of our stores to be found in the malls (Mr.Price, Standard Bank (Stanbic), Safaricom (MTN)). But Tusker Beer will beat any of SAB’s brands, any day. Often consumed warm by locals, I think it’s the only beer I have ever actually enjoyed! 
Christmas Eve was spent at Jane’s place where she held her annual Christmas Eve party for friends and selected clients. Catered largely by her two sons (both of some culinary bent), we had a great spread of traditional Christmas fare, and a layout of sweets that defied choice. As I left, I was presented with my Christmas gift from Jane. I nearly collapsed with joy at the combination Maasai blanket and Maasai carving (paperweight?) presented to me. With Jane being a Scotswoman, there’s something of the genes in her choice of blanket. But both artifacts will be treasured!
At the party I got to know my fellow Research Director (for Francophone West Africa), Jaime Laia; Jaime is from Portugal, speaks English, Portuguese, Spanish and French. His girlfriend, Melissa, works for the U.N. and speaks no less than six languages (but not Swahili, I gather). But most interesting for me was to find out that Jaime was a professional musician about five years ago! He owns an American Stratocaster guitar, a Gibson Les Paul guitar and has an array of classic guitar amps. Once we got talking, the joke quickly circulated that Jane has just lost both her new Directors (Jaime only started in March) to professional music. So what will happen now? Apart from Jaime and I as potential band members, there’s Scott (educated at St. John’s, Johannesburg), Jane’s eldest boy, who can sing (I heard him privately belting out some Seal at the party)! Never mind Jane herself, who was singing with the Bob Marley CD in her car, all the way to Naivasha a few weeks ago. (Jane checks in at work around 10.00am, twice a week, after she’s been to her Latin dance class). If I get to work before 9.30, there’s almost no-one there! But they all work late to make up the time. Flexi-time has another meaning here.
But having been here for nearly a month now, I am probably slightly qualified to comment on the weather: it is incredibly invariant, with warm, but not hot, days, and pleasantly cool evenings. I actually couldn’t imagine a more perfect clime. One is tempted to wake up and say “Oh no, not another fucking beautiful day!” The sky almost always looks full of bulky clouds but it doesn’t move to rain. Not till ‘rainy season’ anyway.
Amani na mapenzi
B
Hello Nairobi: 3-8 December 2008
It's the total madness on the roads that struck me first. Where there are dividing lines between traffic lanes (which are rare) they are treated merely as 'guidelines' as to where the traffic should go. For the rest, it’s a complete free-for-all, with (you guessed it) the minibus taxis (matatus) being the worst offenders. It's common for the vehicle you are driving in (whoever owns it) to have a bump, or at least a scratch, even on both sides – witness to the multitude of near-accidents everyone encounters on a daily basis (acquiring a new scratch or minor ding on the way to work does not count as an accident).
The redeeming feature of drivers here is that they are mostly GOOD. Everyone seems to drive with the 'third eye' on high alert and seems able to avoid collisions with vehicles coming from any direction – especially, it seems, from the left-rear (they drive on the left side); defensive driving is a must.
The main road from the airport is wide but traffic builds at the seemingly incessant line of 'traffic circles' or 'roundabouts' (as they are called here) on the route. Unlike regular roundabouts where the rule is to yield to your right, and enter accordingly, that rule doesn't seem to apply here. Local officials have decided that it's best to have traffic lights controlling the traffic entering and exiting the circles. No one obeys. But at rush hour there are pointsmen controlling the circular traffic and it is common to sit for five to ten minutes (and I mean a real ten minutes) waiting your turn to enter the circle. In
To traverse the fifteen kilometres from Jomo Kenyatta International Airport to my office took over an hour, between 7.30 and 8.30am!
But the traffic is hectic just about any time of night or day. Just like in SA, the congestion stems from a mini-boom that the locals have experienced over the last few years – bringing many more cars onto an already inadequate road system. I am toying with the idea of buying a second-hand Vespa in the New Year, just to get around on during the evenings and weekends. But, I am told, bike is spelled D.E.A.T.H., especially seeing that crash helmets are only somewhat compulsory. In the upmarket suburb where the office is situated, there are few sidewalks and one is often forced to walk in the face of haphazard oncoming traffic. It's common enough to have a near brush with a motorcycle coming the wrong way down a typically congested road. The riders do, at least, give a little toot on the hooter just before they pass – a small (but big enough) warning not to suddenly attempt a crossing.
Apart from the four main TV stations, and the satellite TV option for the rich, radio has a special place inNairobi
But the traffic is hectic just about any time of night or day. Just like in SA, the congestion stems from a mini-boom that the locals have experienced over the last few years – bringing many more cars onto an already inadequate road system. I am toying with the idea of buying a second-hand Vespa in the New Year, just to get around on during the evenings and weekends. But, I am told, bike is spelled D.E.A.T.H., especially seeing that crash helmets are only somewhat compulsory. In the upmarket suburb where the office is situated, there are few sidewalks and one is often forced to walk in the face of haphazard oncoming traffic. It's common enough to have a near brush with a motorcycle coming the wrong way down a typically congested road. The riders do, at least, give a little toot on the hooter just before they pass – a small (but big enough) warning not to suddenly attempt a crossing.
Apart from the four main TV stations, and the satellite TV option for the rich, radio has a special place in
On Saturday there was a reggae festival at Uhuru Park. I didn't go, but got to watch some of it live on TV. With some surprise, I noticed there were very few dreadlocks in evidence among the audience. Wondering why, I was told that the Mau-Mau used to wear dreads as a sign of their complete rejection of the accepted values of the time and today dreadlocks are still a little extreme for conservative Kenyan society. I was later to learn that the Mungiki 'gang', a group of mainly Kikuyu outlaws and extortionists, wore dreadlocks and just prior to my arrival in Kenya, an order had been issued to shoot Mungiki on site. You didn't want to wear dreads and get mistaken for the wrong guy.
On Friday night I attended a formal (black tie) function at the Kenyatta International Convention Centre. Ironically, here in deepest, darkestAfrica , I wore a tux for the first time since my wedding! It was the gala evening for the 'Warrior Awards', given by the Marketing Society of Kenya to companies which have excelled in promoting their products here (the award itself being a stylized – chrome plated! - version of the tall Maasai warrior). The event was long and tiresome (as these events always are) but I was absolutely stunned by the elegance and beauty of the women I saw there and I was entirely unprepared for the lighter, often radiant, skin tones, the far finer features of the women I saw. I was used only to dusty dark skin and broad features.
On Friday night I attended a formal (black tie) function at the Kenyatta International Convention Centre. Ironically, here in deepest, darkest
On Thursday, just hours after alighting my plane from O.R.Tambo, I had a business meeting with 'Rachel Z' – a JAP (Jewish American Princess) – recently settled in Nairobi Sudan Darfur . So we're having a second meeting this week and I will be attending a security briefing from the U.N. High Commission on Refugees week after next. I guess it's Darfur here we come soon.
There are no fewer than four cellphone operators here, with an amazing array of offers and tariff structures. One operator offers a flat-fee cost structure, whether you are calling at peak or off-peak times. Another offers a variable structure but with SMSing costing the equivalent of 5c a time. The dominat operator is Safaricom, of parent company Vodac/Vodacom.
There are no fewer than four cellphone operators here, with an amazing array of offers and tariff structures. One operator offers a flat-fee cost structure, whether you are calling at peak or off-peak times. Another offers a variable structure but with SMSing costing the equivalent of 5c a time. The dominat operator is Safaricom, of parent company Vodac/Vodacom.
All the cell networks are automatically enabled for international dialling – attesting to the extent to which Kenyan has an 'international' feeling about it – and the international connection doesn't cost you that much more than the local one. Currently waiting for my company phone (a Blackberry that turned out to be the most godawful cellphone I have ever owned), I was presented with pre-paid airtime to the value of 1000 Shillings (about R100) to tide me over in the meantime. Lacking many locals I can phone for a chat, I made about ten calls to SA – amounting to more than twenty minutes of call time - and the airtime has only just run out!
Cigarette smoking is considered something of a social evil (which I guess it is) and is banned even in open public spaces. If you want to smoke, do it in your car or in your own home. Don't expect to do it in the street or in any public space, aside from limited and clearly designated smoking areas. I'll have to watch my Quit Smoking by Hypnosis DVD a few more times methinks. I tried in vain to find the cigarette kiosk at the local supermarket. I had to ask if they sold smokes and was directed to a dusty corner of the store where I found a selection of about five brands (Dunhill, Embassy and the huge local brand, Sportsman) next to an assortment of Chinese padlocks, key tags and nail clippers. Nowhere is there an ad or billboard for cigarettes to be seen. Needless to say, smoking is not big inKenya
Cigarette smoking is considered something of a social evil (which I guess it is) and is banned even in open public spaces. If you want to smoke, do it in your car or in your own home. Don't expect to do it in the street or in any public space, aside from limited and clearly designated smoking areas. I'll have to watch my Quit Smoking by Hypnosis DVD a few more times methinks. I tried in vain to find the cigarette kiosk at the local supermarket. I had to ask if they sold smokes and was directed to a dusty corner of the store where I found a selection of about five brands (Dunhill, Embassy and the huge local brand, Sportsman) next to an assortment of Chinese padlocks, key tags and nail clippers. Nowhere is there an ad or billboard for cigarettes to be seen. Needless to say, smoking is not big in
In the local shopping mall – not the new Westgate mall, but in the Sarit Centre – I paid a lot for two samoosas and an espresso (single). Good coffee is everywhere, what with Kenya
Many of the shops, and even the banks, stay open from 8.30am to 8.30pm and there are a number of branches in the Nakumatt chain of supermarkets that stay open 24/7! The area where I am staying (Westlands) is undergoing quite a lot of development and a brand new mall (Westgate) has opened just down the hill from me. The Nakumatt that comprises the principal tenant at the mall is literally a one-stop-shop and sells absolutely everything for the home. Just about the only thing it does not sell is motor cars (but the 24/7 Nakumatt Mega does!).
And speaking of Swahili – or should I say, speaking Swahili – I learnt more of that language in 48 hours than I learnt of Zulu in 48 years! It is a gentle and somewhat poetic language. When someone hears you are not fromKenya you are immediately told "Karibu (Welcome) in Kenya ", to which you reply "Asante (Thanks)", or better still "Asante sana
Many of the shops, and even the banks, stay open from 8.30am to 8.30pm and there are a number of branches in the Nakumatt chain of supermarkets that stay open 24/7! The area where I am staying (Westlands) is undergoing quite a lot of development and a brand new mall (Westgate) has opened just down the hill from me. The Nakumatt that comprises the principal tenant at the mall is literally a one-stop-shop and sells absolutely everything for the home. Just about the only thing it does not sell is motor cars (but the 24/7 Nakumatt Mega does!).
And speaking of Swahili – or should I say, speaking Swahili – I learnt more of that language in 48 hours than I learnt of Zulu in 48 years! It is a gentle and somewhat poetic language. When someone hears you are not from
The natural environment of Nairobi
Despite the position ofNairobi
On Saturday, I took a walk around Westlands and found my way to the local craft 'market' where traditional African goods are sold from within disused shipping containers. The one mistake I made was to be polite and accommodating and found myself consistently having to refuse the invitation to bargain over (mainly) the price of hand made jewellery or Kenyan kikois. But in the process I did get to see some absolutely beautiful kikois. Being something of the 'national dress', kikois are worn as wraps or scarves, and this form of adornment imbues many of the women with a certain flair and sense of local urban street-style. Of course, there are kikois and then there are Maasai shukas. The Masai shuka (blanket, actually) is most often red, sometimes brown or purple, with some form of tartan or striped pattern on it. Stunning.
It's now Sunday evening and I have just returned from a trip toLake Naivasha
Despite the position of
On Saturday, I took a walk around Westlands and found my way to the local craft 'market' where traditional African goods are sold from within disused shipping containers. The one mistake I made was to be polite and accommodating and found myself consistently having to refuse the invitation to bargain over (mainly) the price of hand made jewellery or Kenyan kikois. But in the process I did get to see some absolutely beautiful kikois. Being something of the 'national dress', kikois are worn as wraps or scarves, and this form of adornment imbues many of the women with a certain flair and sense of local urban street-style. Of course, there are kikois and then there are Maasai shukas. The Masai shuka (blanket, actually) is most often red, sometimes brown or purple, with some form of tartan or striped pattern on it. Stunning.
It's now Sunday evening and I have just returned from a trip to
Elsamere once belonged to a married couple called George and Joy Adamson (remember them?). For those who don’t know, the couple used to keep a lioness called Elsa and once upon a time they made a film called Born Free, Kenya's filmic claim to fame. We had lunch in what was their last home in Kenya, on the shores of the lake. On the front lawn stands George's old Land Rover, looking the same as most Land Rovers you see on the road here still. Old George is long dead and gone but his Landie looks as fresh and new as when he bought it. It looks good but doesn't go so well because its wheels are cemented into the ground!
On the way toLake Naivasha , just before heading off the escarpment on which Nairobi stands, we came around a bend in the road and there, suddenly, lay the whole of the Great Rift Valley before us. What a sight! It was a clear day and it seemed like we could see all the way to Somalia and Ethiopia
A lot ofNairobi 's electricity comes from geothermal sources near Naivasha - where the earth's crust is thinner than anywhere else on the globe – and, I am told, one can literally boil an egg in the water that comes out of the hot springs hot springs that feed the lake because Lake Naivasha is not connected to the Great Lakes (Victoria, Albert, Edward) of the Rift Valley. All around the lake are white, plastic greenhouses that grow no less than 80% of the flowers sold in Europe ! The flowers that are cut today are sold the next day in Amsterdam hot springs
The lake has also become increasingly saline over the years, which has led to a problem with water hyacinth. But one man's problem is another man's opportunity: the hyacinth is a favourite of fresh water crayfish (would you believe!) and our lunch featured a good crayfish cocktail, but the taste lacked the 'bite' that the sea provides.
On the way to
A lot of
The lake has also become increasingly saline over the years, which has led to a problem with water hyacinth. But one man's problem is another man's opportunity: the hyacinth is a favourite of fresh water crayfish (would you believe!) and our lunch featured a good crayfish cocktail, but the taste lacked the 'bite' that the sea provides.
Over the way from Lake Naivasha Nairobi
Peace and Love.
Brian
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