Every Day is Sunday

We didn’t really know what to expect as we boarded the plane to Rwanda.  What would the country look like just 15 years after the genocide?  At the very least, we guessed that Rwanda would not be an easy place to travel.

We were surprised from the first moment we stepped out of the plane.  The place was absolutely spotless.  Unlike Kenya or Tanzania, there was no garbage lining the streets, no abandoned construction sites, and no rusted-out cars on the side of the roads.  We learned that the Rwandan government requires its citizens to devote the last Saturday of every month to “community restoration.”  Every month neighbors help neighbors mend fences, paint buildings, and pick up trash.  In addition, the Rwandan government banned plastic bags because they were contributing to litter and so the shops use only paper bags.  As a result of these policies, Rwanda is an incredibly clean country.

It was also exceedingly easy to move around.  The buses ran on an actual schedule, which was a nice change from other countries in East Africa where the buses only leave when they are full (which, as we saw in Tanzania, meant 16 passengers for a 12-seater car).  Most of the roads in Rwanda were paved, and even had yellow lines separating the flow of traffic!  We spent a week cruising around the city on Moto-bike taxis, which would take you anywhere for 50 cents. Helmets are mandatory, so don’t worry moms, we were safe.

Getting around was so easy, we decided to hit the “New Cadallac” nightclub, one of Kigali’s hotspots.

The music was good, even if the place was more than a little cheesy.  The first thing we noticed was the floor-to-ceiling mirrors that covered the entire club.  The mirrors were a huge hit with Rwandan men – they seemed to prefer dancing with their reflection over any of the women in the club. You could almost hear them saying “Man, I’ve got sweet moves” as they grinded with themselves.

Although not particularly interesting, we have to mention that Rwanda has the best internet connection in all of East Africa.  It was an absolute pleasure to surf the web and not wait 5 minutes for an email to open.

Overall, we found Rwanda to be the easiest country in East Africa to travel.  It’s certainly not what we expected from a country that just 15 years ago suffered as its government perpetrated brutal crimes against humanity.

We had a difficult time explaining the gap between our expectations and our actual experiences.  Luckily we met Stratton, a Rwandan who works at the International Criminal Tribunal of Rwanda (the ICTR was established in the 1990s to prosecute those responsible for the genocide).  We mentioned our surprise that Rwanda was such an easy place to visit, and he told us something that helped put our entire experience into perspective.

Unlike targeted or random acts of violence, genocides are spearheaded by a government that provides funding, coordinates violence, and convinces ordinary citizens to turn on their neighbors, friends and family.  Although it is counter-intuitive, Stratton explained that genocide is only possible in societies where the citizens respect the knowledge, power and authority of the government. 

Rwandans tend to be rules-oriented, respectful of authority, and organized.  It is these very traits that enabled the Hutu government to carry out its disastrous plans against the Tutsi in the 1990s.  Just as an obedient German population internalized anti-Semitic propaganda and heeded their ruthless leader’s call for the extermination of Jews, an obedient Rwandan population accepted the demonization of the Tutsis and acceded to the government’s call for their extermination.

The Rwandans’ healthy respect for authority, which had disastrous consequences in the 1990s, still exists and carries over into their everyday activities.  It helps explain why the cities are clean, the buses run on time, and the Motos observe the rules of the road.  Stratton’s explanation helped us understand the incongruity between Rwanda’s recent history and the fact that Kigali seemed to be such a peaceful, comfortable, and orderly place.

Armed with his persuasive explanation, we used the rest of our time in Kigali to learn about the genocide and leave with a good idea about the horrible events that took place in Rwanda less than 20 years ago. 

We started with the genocide memorial, which gave us some insight into the roots of the conflict.  As many know, the majority tribe in Rwanda (the Hutu) carried out genocide against the minority tribe (the Tutsi).  The roots of the conflict were sown in colonial times, when the Belgium government started to give preferential treatment to the minority Tutsi than switched allegiance to the Hutu.  When Rwanda gained its independence, the new Hutu government was afraid of the opposition party formed by the Tutsi and waged an intense propaganda campaign against the Tsotsis – whom they called “crocodiles.”  After decades of propaganda, the government organized death squads and encouraged people to turn against their neighbors.  These death squads led to the brutal and savage death of millions of Tutsi people.

After the memorial, we went to see the Ntarama church where several thousand Tutsi had sought refuge to escape the brutality of the Hutu death squads.  Even though his congregation was made up of Hutus and Tutsi, the minister of the church chose not to protect his congregation.  He told the Hutu that Tutsi were hiding in his church — 3,000 Tutsi (mostly women and children) were slaughtered in his church.

As you walk into the church you see pieces of clothing and toys strewn across the pews. Along the back wall, were rows and rows of human skulls and bones.  You could see that many of the skulls had been cracked by blunt objects.  It was similar to pictures we have seen in books about the German concentration camps during the Holocaust.

We left Kigali with mixed impressions.  On the one hand, Rwanda seemed so advanced compared to other East African countries that it was hard to imagine that this type of brutality occurred just fifteen years ago.  On the other hand, we figured there’s probably more going on below the surface than we were able to discover in our short visit.  The locals told us that government’s policies are designed to hide the poverty that is pervasive in the country.  The roads of the cities are good, but there is no infrastructure in the rural areas.  We decided to head out of the city to do our own investigation.

As you may have gathered from our previous entries, the people in Tanzania like to take advantage of tourists.  We learned in Arusha that this behavior is pathological.   

As “muzungus” (tourists with white faces), we expect to pay a premium on services.  We’re ok with paying a 10% or even 15% surcharge.  But throughout our time in Tanzania we kept meeting people who wanted to charge us a 200% - 1000% premium.  The taxi drivers demanded 10,000 shillings for 2,000 shilling fare.  The hotels wanted 100,000 shillings for rooms that cost locals 35,000.

The icing on the cake came at the Old Arusha Hospital.  We stopped by the hospital for malaria tests – we wanted to make sure that Jeff was cured and that Erin was still all clear.  The woman at the reception desk told us that the price of the test would be 2,000 shillings each (about 2 USD).  No problem. 

A nurse came out to administer the blood test.  After 15 minutes he gave us the good news: we were both malaria-free!  “That will be 10,000 shillings each,” he said.  We laughed.  We told him that we knew the price was 2,000 shillings.  He protested and promised that the normal price was 10,000 shillings.  We laughed some more…even the nurses at the hospital were trying to rip us off!  We paid him the 4,000 we owed and left.

Although it’s a beautiful country, the next day we were very happy to board the plane out of Tanzania.  Next stop Rwanda!   

From Mt. Kilimanjaro to the Serengeti, Tanzania has an extraordinary array of natural beauty and many different sites to enjoy.  At the top of our list was the Ngorongoro Crater, the world’s largest unbroken, unflooded volcanic caldera.  Formed more than 2 million years ago when a giant volcano exploded and collapsed on itself, the Crater became a “natural enclosure” for a wide variety of wildlife.  Because the floor of the Crater has been largely untouched by humans, visitors to the Crater get a rare glimpse into the pristine African wilderness.

But holy s*** is it expensive!  Apparently nobody appreciates the beauty and value of the Crater more than the Tanzanian government.  They charge $50 a person to enter the “Conservation Area,” and then another $200 for every vehicle that descends to the Crater floor.   If you add-in the costs of hiring a vehicle and a guide, it can be a prohibitively expensive venture.

Erin had been in contact with the Serena Hotel, which is perched on the rim of the Crater, and they told her that we could join a Crater safari group for $100 per person.  When we arrived at the hotel, however, we discovered that no such deal existed and we had to arrange a safari on our own.  Luckily, we met a really nice couple from Australia.  They had already paid the vehicle fee and they offered to let us join them in their truck.  We gladly accepted their very generous offer, paid our $50 each park fee, and the four of us set out in the early morning for the Crater floor.

Things seemed too good to be true because they were. The park service guard at the gate stopped our car and told us there was a problem.  Since the Australian couple had paid the vehicle fee, and we weren’t traveling as a group (we weren’t listed on their vehicle permit), we had to pay another $200 even though we were only taking one vehicle to the Crater floor.  Sounds absurd, right?  But wait, it gets worse…

We asked to speak to his supervisor, and he told us to drive to the Park Service headquarters.  The Australians were incredibly nice and they waited as we drove 25 minutes back to headquarters.

We sat down with the supervisor and calmly explained that we had paid our $50 park fee, our vehicle had the proper $200 permit, and so there shouldn’t be any problem.  The supervisor replied that even though there were no “official” rules against joining another group, he had personally initiated a policy that only people traveling under the same paperwork may share a vehicle.

It became clear that we were dealing with a corrupt official.  But even if we were inclined to pay his $200 USD ransom, we didn’t have that kind of money on us.  We beseeched him to please grant an exception in our case so that we could see Crater before we left Tanzania.  “No money, no Crater,” he said callously.  

We tried a new tactic.  We demanded our initial entrance fee back and told him we never would have entered the park if we knew about his “policy.”  Surely he’d let us go down in a vehicle that had already paid the $200 vehicle fee, rather than give us back $100, right?  Wrong.  He produced our $100. 

This is when we started to recognize a trait that separates the Tanzanian rip-off artists from those in other countries.  In Kenya, for example, you’ll come across people who try to get more money out of the tourists with white faces.  But if you confront the Kenyan with a little local knowledge and ask him for the real price, he’ll usually smile and give you the local price.  In Tanzania, by contrast, they get indignant when you ask for the real price.  They would rather lose the business completely than allow you to pay a fair local price.

Crushed and frustrated, we took our $100 refund and stormed out of the office.  We told the Australian couple to go on without us.    

We found a quiet place to contemplate our options and have a serious heart-to-heart.  On the one hand, we couldn’t bring ourselves to give our hard-earned money to this corrupt official and his corrupt system.  On the other hand, we had traveled so far to see the Crater floor, and we didn’t want to leave when we were so close. 

After much back-and-forth, we reluctantly decided to pay the corrupt official his bribe.  We hated to give this evil man our money, but it was worse to let him ruin our day and prevent us from seeing this natural wonder.  We called a local guide, paid all the necessary fees and charges, and started down the rocky road of the Crater.  As we were heading down the descent road, tears of frustration and anger streamed down Erin’s face.  Things were grim.

And then we saw it.

It was as if we’d been transported back in time to witness nature in its most pure and raw form.  The yellows and greens of the landscape were brilliant against the pale blue sky.  Predators and prey moved in their ancient dance within the small confines of the Crater.  It was a truly magical place. 

We caught a glimpse of the elusive cheetah moving along the grass looking for its prey.

And then came across a HUGE male lion lying in the grass, and his pride not too far away. 

There was something about the Crater that made the stripes on the zebras seem brighter and the tusks on the elephants seem longer. 

Elephant with impossibly long tusks

The tranquility of the Crater was all-encompassing.  The trials and tribulations of the previous few hours melted away completely.  We turned to each other and smiled in agreement: the glory of nature overcame the feebleness of man.

We’ve talked about climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro for almost two years.  It is the largest and most imposing peak in Africa, and the view from the summit is supposed to be unparalleled.  Also, being able to say you climbed Kili is pretty darn cool. 

 About a week before we were supposed to head to Tanzania, Jeff started to feel under the weather.  He was sluggish, tired all the time, and his body ached.  “I think I may have Malaria,” he said on more than one occasion.  “It’s all in your head,” was Erin’s typical reply.  Finally, she took him to the clinic to prove it.

The Malaria test came back and — that’s right folks – they found parasites in Jeff’s blood.    Nooooo!  Malaria strikes 1/2 of the Wertkinborns! And Erin feels like a real shmuck [her words].  Needless to say, our Kili climb was off.

Undeterred by a little malaria, we followed through with our plan to travel to Moshi, the town in Tanzania that serves as the jumping-off point for Kilimanjaro climbs.  It was a treacherous bus trip on hazardous roads.

Luckily, we arrived safely and immediately relaxed when we looked out the window of our hotel room and saw this amazing view of Kilimanjaro.

There’s not much to do in Moshi except get ready to climb the mountain, and since we weren’t climbing we decided to take a walk through the coffee fields and into the local village.

We were WAY off the tourist track and collected quite a following of children who seemed content just to follow us around.  We felt a little like pied pipers as we walked through the village with about 10 children in tow.  The were polite and very cute, and so before we said goodbye we stopped at a small shop and bought them all sodas.   

We were about to call it a day and head back to our hotel we heard some kickin’ music coming from down the road.  The music was shockingly loud against the stillness of the Tanzanian coffee fields.  It was so out of context that we just HAD to investigate, and so we followed the music to its source: a secondary school. 

As we walked down the driveway of the school, one of the teachers approached us and explained that the 10th grade girls had just won the local netball championship.

To celebrate their victory, the headmaster granted their request to hold a dance on school grounds and allowed them to invite the 10th grade boys to the party. 

It was the first time the school was hosting a co-ed dance. “Last week,” the teacher explained, “the 11th graders celebrated their football victory by slaughtering a goat.” 

The teachers insisted that we come and join the kids in the celebration.  We looked at each other and shrugged.  Why not?  We ARE always looking for a good party. 

So we crashed a Tanzanian high school dance.

The hip-hop music was blaring as we walked into the hall, but as soon as we took three steps the music went low and the students stopped dancing and stared.  We were the center of attention – it was like one of the bad dreams when you show up to the school dance in just your underwear and everybody just stares at you.  Luckily, the teacher quickly introduced us as visitors from America and the students welcomed us with warm smiles and invited us to dance with them.  Once the girls saw that the white girl had some moves, they pushed Erin into the middle of their little dancing circle. 

We danced, hung out, and watched the kids enjoy their day.  We were happy for the rare glimpse into the everyday lives of these high school kids. But feeling almost as awkward as we did at our own high school dance – 15 years ago -  we slipped out the back and walked back to our hotel like high school sweethearts

According to our Lonely Planet guidebook, the nickname for Nairobi is “Nai-Robbery.”  Like many other descriptions in our East Africa guidebook, this description of Nairobi misses the mark.  We’re not saying that Nairobi is crime-free, but we felt just as safe walking the streets of Nairobi as we do walking the streets of Washington DC.  Just as there are certain parts of our nation’s capital that you wouldn’t want to visit at night, there are certain parts of Nairobi that are best avoided after dark.  In and around central Nairobi, however, we felt secure on the streets.

We were in Kenya’s capital city to visit an organization whose mission is to fight malnuitrition and assist local farmers.  The project teaches farmers how to grow and cultivate pest-free bananas, helps the farmers organize into collective, and then assiste the farmers in marketing their crop and establishing relationships with commercial buyers and exporters.  The aim is to create a sustainable collective - one that can prosper long after they stop receive assistance.  

Without a doubt, the highlight of our visit was traveling to Thika (an area just outside of Nairobi) and seeing the positive effects of the program on the local community first-hand.  Our excellent guide, Wangari, started us at the beginning: at the nursery where the farmers pick up pest-free banana plantlets. 

Nursery of banana plantlets

We went on to observe three different groups of banana farmers at three different stages of their own development.  The first group was newly formed and still working on solidifying their group and mastering the basics. 

The second group was more well-established and had already experienced some of the benefits of their farming enterprise.  The final group was highly organized, well-established, and had even constructed a computer learning center and bio-fuel annex.  This last group helped us realize the true potential of this banana project.  Not only does the program help to fight malnutrition by improving crop outputs, but its work also helps strengthen communities and develop sustainable and profitable businesses. 

One common thread emerged as we introduced ourselves to each group of farmers: none of them could pronounce Erin’s name.  Even when we spelled it, they just couldn’t put the “E” and the “r” together to produce the right sound.  Wangari decided that the best solution was to give Erin an African name.  Erin was re-named Makena, a common name in the Kakuro tribe which means “full of joy.”  We thought it was a perfect name and Erin introduced herself as Makena for the rest of our time in Kenya.

After all that talk of bananas, we were hungry for some meat.  To remedy the situation we took a trip out to the famous Carnivore restaurant in Nairobi.  Carnivore got its fame by offering every kind of meat available on the menu.  We opted for the crocodile and ostrich, but passed on the zebra and giraffe.  The ostrich was good, but the croc was delicious.

Just by luck there happened to be a huge reggae concert being held on the grounds next to Carnivore.  Of course we had to check it out.  Our first big music concert of the trip!

We also experienced another “first” on this trip: we went to the gym.  Drawing on our squatting skills (see Buzios Entry), we found our way into the Stanley Hotel in downtown Nairobi.  Although we were staying in a dumpy hotel across the street, we took advantage of the Stanley’s pool, internet, and gym.  Man, we are out of shape!  As we stood in the mirrors admiring our flab, we decided it’s time we started a push-up and sit-up regimen. 

And just in case you needed another example of how Facebook is shrinking the world . . . Our friend Seth Nickinson saw on Facebook that two of his friends (Erin and Austin Peck) were both in Nairobi at the same time.  Coincidentally, Erin, Austin and Seth all met at the same time while studying abroad at the University of Cape Town.  Seth linked them through Facebook, and Erin and Austin had a ten-year mini-reunion in Africa.  On Austin’s recommendation, we moved into the YMCA and spent a few days hanging out with him and his girlfriend Ann Elise.  Austin and Ann Elise had just returned from Northern Kenya where they spent three months living in a slum.  They had both recently finished their degrees, and escaped to Africa to record footage for a documentary on street kids who are addicted to sniffing glue.  They showed us a 3 minute rough-cut trailer with soundtrack – it looks amazing.

Finally, our trip to Nairobi would not be complete without a visit to Karen, a suburb of Nairobi.  “Karen” is named after Karen Blixon, a woman who came to Kenya from Denmark in the early 1900s and tried to grow coffee.  She became famous in Kenya for her kindness to the Nakuru tribe who inhabited the area, and became famous throughout the world when when Meryl Streep portrayed her in “Out of Africa” opposite Robert Redford. 

Karen Blixon's House

In Madison, WI, there used to be a bar called the “Flamingo” with a pink sign and a tacky interior.  The locals derisively called it the “Flaming-O.”  It was Erin’s go-to underage bar.

Because of Erin’s experience with the Flaming-O, we’ve studiously avoided any bar, restaurant, or casino with the same name, on the assumption that it couldn’t possibly be an establishment worthy of our patronage.  Our recent visit to Naivasha, however, has caused us to re-think our prejudice against all things Flamingo.

We left the water projects in western Kenya and began a road trip to Lake Naivasha, a popular weekend destination for those who live and work in Nairobi.  With Jeff’s friend Tal at the wheel, we passed through the Masai Mara area, home of the famous nomadic Masai tribe. 

We found our way to a wonderful guesthouse just off the small lake that Amanda recommended while we were in Ukunda.  We checked-in and had a nice conversation with our hostess Rosemary, a kind English woman who talked and talked and talked to us about the area.  Once settled, Rosemary suggested that we take a walk down to the lake.  A nice stroll down to the lake?  Why not?  Little did we know we were about to enter our very own walking safari. 

The giraffes and zebras were cool, but the highlight came as we approached the lake.  We saw hundreds of thousands of beautiful and graceful Flamingos covering the lake.  They were gorgeous. 

View of the lake - and the hundres of thousands of flamingos covering the lake

 After hanging out with the flamingos and zebras for a while, we traveled from our guesthouse to view the families of hippos and storks that live on Lake Naivasha. 

Lake Naivasha provided such a beautiful backdrop that Erin decided to take some glamour shots.  She got a pretty good one of Tal.

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Yes, ladies, he is single.  Please send all enquiries to our personal email accounts and we’ll judiciously pass them along.

Unfortunately, before we left Naivasha we were robbed for the third time since the trip began.  Unlike the first two times when the bandit was a dog (see Entries 5, 22), this time the bandit was a monkey who opened the door to the kitchen, grabbed a bunch of bananas, and climbed straight up a tree.  He ate them with impudence right in front of us

[Ok, we admit it, we got our own glamour shot by the lake]

You don’t have to spent too much time in East Africa to learn that one of the biggest issues facing the people is lack of access to clean water.  In countries like Kenya it is common woman and children to walk for two hours to a water source to collect water for their families, and then to walk two hours back to their village.  The task of gathering water often keeps children from going to school, and prevents women from developing and utilizing a skill that could otherwise benefit their family and community.

Through Erin’s connections in the development community, we hooked up with an organization dedicated to alleviating this problem.  We traveled out to western Kenya to meet up with Davila Langant, the local coordinator for a Washington DC-based organization that promotes clean water in Kenya through “water harvesting.” 

The idea behind water harvesting is simple: you capture rainfall and use it for drinking water. It’s easy and economical.  First you construct special wide-mouth gutters on the roof of buildings to catch rainfall and direct it to a tank.  Then you build huge concrete tanks that can hold up to 100,000 liters.  Finally, you filter the water taken from the concrete tanks in sandstone.  The result is 99% pure water.

Step 1: Direct rainwater through gutters on the roof

Step 2: Build a huge concrete tank

Step 3: Filter the water in sandstone

Davila’s organization goes to churches, schools, community libraries, and other places where people gather, and provides the seed funding to construct the gutters and the tanks.  The organization insists that the community contributes 25% of the cost in order to create ownership for the project. 

We toured around several water projects and saw the amazing impact that this simple cost effective solution was having on the community.  We stopped by Kabungut Secondary school and met with the principal.  He told us that rather than spending their days fetching water, children were going to school and collecting the water for their household at the school.  We saw the same positive benefits at Silibwet community library and Umoja Children’s Home. 

Our most touching moment came at St. Mary’s Catholic Church in Kabungut.  Although the church had completed construction of the concrete water tank, they had run out of money before they were able to purchase a filter.  The filter was not very expensive by US standards and so we decided to donate the money for a filter right there and then.  They were so appreciative that they insisted on planting a tree in our honor in the garden, and then followed us out singing as we were leaving.  For our part it was such a small gesture, but for them it made a huge difference in their lives.

Not only did we get to meet with the beneficiaries of the projects, we also traveled to Silibwet so that Erin could meet with the Minister of Agriculture for the Bomet Central Division.  The Minister talked earnestly and candidly about the needs of the Kenyan people and what the Kenyan government is doing to help.   

But the highlight of our Bomet trip was accompanying Davila as he presented a check to the Kwenik-Ab-Ilet primary school.  With the help of the local community, the school’s chairman had raised the requisite 25% of the funding for the construction of gutters and a water tank, Davila’s organization was presenting the chairman a check for the remaining 75%.  They were so happy to be receiving the money that they invited members of the local community and held a full ceremony.  Even though we were only observing, the Chairman insisted that Erin give a speech commerating this special day. 

She nailed it!  She started strong by talking about how wonderful it was to see the community come together and invest in their children’s health.  And she finished with a sure-fire way to get applause from a group of Kenyans: she thanked them for sending us Barack Obama!

The chairman thanked us for coming and thanked Erin for her kind words.  He then uttered what we thought was the line of the week:  “We hope you will come back soon because when we see your face, we see assistance.”  Hilarious.

For the last 30 years people have tried to discern the meaning behind the cryptic lyrics of the Eagles’ song “Hotel California.”  After a week in Diani Beach, we think we have a pretty good idea…

After spending our days at Amanda’s primary school in Ukunda, we traveled to her house in nearby Diani Beach. She was lucky enough to do a lot of her work steps away from the white sandy beaches of the Indian Ocean.

Amanda in her "office"

In many ways, Diani Beach is a paradise. Eastern Kenya has an absolutely stunning coastline with miles of beautiful beach. One day we went out for a snorkeling trip and saw an amazing variety of sea life – dolphins, giant blue and red clams, octopus and the most colorful fish we’d ever seen.

Although the coral was not as vibrant as in the Great Barrier Reef in Australia, the color and variety of fish in Kenya was incredible. You don’t usually think of Kenya as a diving destination, but it was some of the best snorkeling we’ve ever done.

Diani Beach also has great local produce. Each day we stopped off at Amanda’s favorite fruit and vegetable stand to get supplies for that night’s dinner. If we remembered to order ahead, we could also pick up freshly squeezed passion fruit juice which was TO DIE FOR.

Although quite beautiful, there is also something surreal about Diani Beach. It has a small but vibrant ex-pat community who gather most evenings at a bar the locals called “Forties.” If you ever make it to that part of the world, you won’t be able to miss the bar. Just look for the one with two 16-foot camels parked outside.

Because its such a small community, everybody knows everybody else’s business. We sat at the bar with Amanda and her boyfriend Pepe and got the gossip on all the locals. From what we could gather, Diani Beach is the kind of place where people arrive for a 2 week vacation and end up staying 20 years. You might think they are attracted by the beautiful beaches – but we learned that they stay for the young, sexy Kenyan men and women.

Diani happens to be a premier destination for sex tourism. That’s right, rampant sex tourism (and you thought this post might be a little dull). It was impossible to go to lunch without seeing an “odd couple.” Sometimes it was a short, lecherous 60-year-old white man with a tall, stunning 20-year-old Kenyan woman. Other times it was a 55 year-old overweight white divorcee walking hand-in-hand with a young svelt Kenyan man (or TWO!). The “tourists” would find boyfriends or girlfriends for the day, week or even month. They’d hang out at Forty Thieves and cuddle like they were honeymooners. It was more than a little creepy.

[Pictures have been redacted to protect the reprehensible]

Observing the crowd at Forties, we got the sense that Diani Beach had a “Hotel California” feel to it. You can check-out any time you like, but you can never leave.

We stepped out of Air Force One and were met by Amanda, Erin’s friend and former colleague.  Amanda has been working in Kenya for almost two years as the project manager for an organization building a primary school and providing medical care for poor and orphaned children of Kenya.

Amanda was our guiding light in a country we did not know very well.  She graciously opened up her house to us and introduced us to her group of friends.  Amanda worked very hard: there always seemed to be an issue with the school employees to resolve, a government meetings to attend, or a school function to preside over.  In between all of that Amanda somehow found the time to help us have a great week.

Amanda taught us a lot about the challenges of working in Kenya.  Her personal approach, and the official policy of her organization, is to refuse to pay any bribes.   Unfortunately, many Kenyan officials move very slowly (or not at all) when there is no money to grease the wheels.  Even though Amanda has all the funding in place and hired a general contractor, she has been waiting for the government to issue the final construction permits since October 2008!

In the meantime, the school has been operating out of a temporary facility.  We spent a few days visiting the temporary school and hanging out with the kids.

Many of the younger kids speak only KiSwahili, and so we gravitated toward the older kids who spoke excellent English.  We were getting along great with the Standard 7 kids (13 and 14 year olds), and Amanda suggested that we take them all out on a field trip.  Even though these kids grew up in Kenya, many of them didn’t have the means to visit a game preserve and none had ever seen a live elephant.  We decided to remedy the situation by sponsoring a trip to the Elephant Sanctuary. 

It was not an easy trip to pull together.  Most of the kids walked an hour to get to school, and we asked them to come to school an hour earlier than normal.  The day finally arrived and we headed out on the vans bright and early.  The kids were so excited.  None of the kids had ever been on a school field trip before, much less one to see elephants! 

"King" James at the entrance to the Elephant Sanctuary

We arrived at the Elephant Sanctuary and we started to search for elephants.  We drove and we drove and we drove.  The elephants were nowhere to be found. 

We could see that the kids were a little disappointed, so we asked the van drivers to go down some less-traveled roads in search of the elephants.  The drivers obliged and we turned off the main path and headed down a dust road.  We made it about ½ mile down the road when one of the vans got STUCK in the sand. 

There we were, baking in the mid-day Kenyan sun, disappointed by the lack of elephants, and completely stuck. 

Well, if we weren’t going to see elephants, at least we get an adventure out of it!  We all got out and pushed.  A group of kids went out to collect some dry wood to put under the van for traction — and while they were foraging they got chased by warthogs!  It was a real group effort, and in a small way actually made up for the fact that we didn’t see elephants.  When we finally got the van out of the dust, the whole group got together and cheered.  It turned out that getting our van stuck – and unstuck – won the day!

We had such a great time with the kids that we couldn’t stay away.  We went back to the school for a school assembly where our kids were performing a play about preventing Malaria.  We helped with costumes and gave them moral support.

School Assembly under the Mango Tree

The school assembly was a success and the play well-received by the kids and the parents who came to watch.  Afterward Amanda gave a brief talk about the importance of mosquito nets and offered the parents top-quality nets for 70% less than they usually cost in the store. 

It was great to peak into Amanda’s world at the primary school and we left Ukunda with a great respect for the work she is doing.