An opportunity taken

On Friday, I had the opportunity to do something that I have wanted to do for a long time. Since I didn’t know when I would get the chance again, I decided to take the afternoon off for an excursion with some friends. The excursion ended up being entertaining, educational, and eye-opening, an experience I will remember for a long time.

I have a friend here in Nairobi who is volunteering at a local school. The school is a one room facility, in the middle of Kibera, attempting to educate 80+ students, ranging from nursery school to grade 6. Through her own motivation and network, Cat (my friend) had organized for the construction of a second floor on top of the one-room facility, a small expansion that could have a huge impact. The addition created two extra, smaller classrooms in addition to the ground floor. Friday was the “grand opening” of the new addition.

For those of you that do not know, Kibera is the largest and most well known slum in Nairobi. It started as a settlement on either side of a main railroad line in the city. Today it is a city in and of itself. No one knows exactly how many people live in Kibera; estimates range from 600,000 to 1.2 million people in an area of land smaller than New York’s Central Park. Generally the population is considered to be one million—a very large number.

A view of Kibera

If the name “Kibera” sounds familiar, there is a reason. Kibera was featured prominently in both the book and the movie “The Constant Gardener.” The movie was actually filmed on-location Kibera, so some of the pictures may look vaguely familiar.


A view from the school's new second floor window

After getting off a matatu (local bus), we walked down a road that leads into Kibera. Then, as is usually the case, we took what seemed to be a random right, and headed down a foot path towards the railroad line. We walked for 15 to 20 minutes, through crowded paths lined with shop fronts, homes, and people—lots and lots of people. There are no roads here; everything is pedestrian. And there are no path signs; everything is by memory.


Walking through Kibera

We crossed the railroad, jumped over muddy currents flowing through the paths, ducked under doorways, and made countless turns. Finally, we turned a corner and saw the school, or, more specifically, we saw the kids at the school. Immediately, you become overwhelmed with the commotion, and all thoughts of the outside world instantaneously flee your mind.


The active railroad runs through Kibera

Kibera is an amazing place, which cannot be imagined; it has to be experienced to be believed. Living conditions are rough, yet over a million survive. In the middle of it all, I witnessed a small room, affected by the local environs yet cut-off from the outside world, which housed a community of kids, excited and willing to learn by any means possible. As with most of my prior school visits in this part of the world, the children always seem to be a source of inspiration.


The school's current classroom

The afternoon celebration was entertaining and enlightening, organized and chaotic, happy and sad. But most of all, we (me, and my other friends in the group) were honored to be part of Cat’s experience, and thrilled to see her school where so much of her attention has been focused.

For the most part, I will let the pictures speak for themselves.


Kids near the school entrance


Waiting outside the school's front door


Cat and teachers cutting the ribbon to the second floor


In the square with the kids


Jen with her new friends

Returning to a favorite place

One of the amazing aspects of living here is your proximity to spectacular places like the Masai Mara. One is able to see giraffe on your way to the airport from Nairobi’s city center. Imagine what you can experience just a bit outside the urban sprawl. My definition of wildlife used to be squirrels, raccoons, mice. Clearly, I need to adjust that definition.

Even though I have been to the Mara before, I jumped at the opportunity to return to the fabled bush. I decided to join some friends on a weekend trip—you know, just a quick jaunt to the Mara. In contrast to my prior visit—a relatively well-funded excursion—this more recent journey was definitely budget conscious.

We drove from Nairobi to the Mara.


Giraffe on the plains

For those of you who are not familiar with Kenya, the distance from the city to the Mara is not all that great—similar to driving from New York to Boston in the U.S. of A. At least that is how it appears on a map. In reality, the trip takes nearly three times as long, especially when driving at night (which, of course, we did).

The road to the Mara is widely known as the worst road in Kenya. I haven’t traveled on all of the Kenyan roads, but I can say that this was the worst road I have traveled on—ever. In fact, for the second half of the trip, we were more bush-whackers than road-warriors, when the definition of road and off-road merged into one. As with most weekend trips, our group was supposed to leave a little early on Friday, in order to arrive in the Mara before sundown. (We would realize later why sundown was an important variable in the equation.) Due to various issues with work, and food, and petrol, and exchange rates, we didn’t make it out of Nairobi until 5 pm, just in time for Friday afternoon rush hour. Not a great beginning.


Sunrise in the Mara

For the first have of the trip, everything was fine. We were on tarmac roads, with a quite a bit of construction going on, but nothing to make us think of the “worst road in Kenya”. The sun had set long ago, and the sight through the windows was complete darkness, save for the occasional fire started by Masai or other rural inhabitants.

Once we hit Narok, largely a massive truck stop that had morphed into a town, the smooth sailing was over. In fact, so was the road. Just beyond Narok’s outskirts, we turned into the bush, and would be bush-bound for the next three hours, bouncing over rock, wading through rivers, and kicking up dust all the way. We got really worried when the driver kept rolling down the windows and sticking his head out, in an attempt to stay awake.

The bush beating seemed to take forever. We found out later that we had to take the long way. We didn’t even know there was a choice—we certainly would have opted for the shorter route. As it turned out, the shorter route was also a much more common track. In fact, it was particularly favored by elephants. Elephants are very easy to spot during the day, not so easy at night. And even though we were in a relatively large van, we were no match for an adult with two, large ivory tusks. So, to be safe, we had to avoid accidentally startling elephants at night. Wise move. Evidently it was illegal for tour guides to be arriving in the Mara much after sunset. Now we knew why. Whoops…

The rest of the weekend proceeded as planned. We saw lots of game (although no cheetahs), woke up early for a beautiful sunrise game drive, and taught the Masai guards how to make s’mores (well, after the Masai taught us how to build a proper campfire). Life is good.

A few photos from the Mara:

Still here in Nairobi...

Well, I am embarrassed at the length of time it has been since I wrote last. My intentions were to keep everyone updated on life here in Kenya. Oh well. Isn’t there a saying about “good intentions?” Instead of writing one massive post about everything that has happened, I will try and write a few notes over the coming week, and post them periodically (the important word in that sentence was “try”).

First off, I am still here—Nairboi, that is. Once again, I was asked to extend my trip until mid-December. It seems as though I always come back from Africa right before Christmas. I think my family is getting tired of African Christmas presents; I may have to get really creative this year. There are a couple of weddings that I will miss (Amy and Carolyn—again, I am sorry. I hope you two will understand.) But I am very excited about the coming months.

I was asked to extend my trip primarily due to the newest project on which I have been working. This new project is in conjunction with one of the big multi-lateral organizations, and is a bit more finance focused than some of the other projects. The multi-lateral wants to set up a financing facility here in the region, and has quite a few partners interested in being part of the program. We were doing some due diligence and research here on the ground, to define the parameters of the project and propose a structure for the financing facility. (This project is still in the conceptual phase, so I have to be a bit vague at this point.) The initial research phase of the project was funded through the end of September. A few weeks back, the project stakeholders showed enough interest to potentially extend the research/pilot phase for a couple of months, and I was asked to extend my stay here until mid-December. If this project doesn’t continue, there are plenty of other projects that could use some extra help, so I was confident and enthusiastic enough to stay around and see what happens. Early this week, I should have a clearer idea of the work to be done over the coming months.

When I last wrote, I had just been asked to write a business plan for a group of dairy farmers in western Kenya. That was finished long ago. Rumor has it that the group was very excited about the proposal, and is working towards meeting the various targets that we outlined in the document. In fact, just last Thursday, I saw some of the field staff here in the Nairobi office, and they were all smiles. The farmer group is holding a big stakeholder meeting at the end of October, and will vote on different actions to take that will move the group closer to meeting its goals. It is fun to see your work and recommendations in action. I was invited to the meeting; I will try to attend if possible.

So let me keep it short at the moment. Suffice to say I am still here, alive and well, and as always, enjoying my time here in Kenya. I have many other adventures and projects to write about, so keep checking your Inbox and the website for more stories and photos. Hopefully they will be coming soon.

Oh, one more thing…How ‘Bout Them EAGLES!!!

New Projects, New Experiences

As always, things continue to change for me here in Kenya. The Millennium Village project is now officially over. We submitted our report, and wrapped up.

Since I was a free agent, many of the other business advisors were asking me to help them with their projects. I was being pulled in many different directions, and that began to drive me crazy-I couldn't work this way for the next month.

So I sat down with the country director, to discuss my “free agency” and figure out what he wanted me to focus on, and more importantly, on which projects he wanted to charge my time. The director decided he had numerous projects that could use my help, and actually took me up on my offer to extend my stay here at the Nairobi office. Instead of returning home on September 1, my flight home is now scheduled for October 1...tentatively.

At the moment, I am working on a dairy development project here. Last week was spent traveling in western Kenya, meeting with a couple of farmer dairy groups, in various beginning stages of forming organizations. These rural farmers have historically sold their milk to local sellers (“hawkers” as they are called) or a handful of bigger processors-depending on the village. The process of selling milk, without any bulking or cooling facility, is tedious, time consuming, and unpredictable. Believe it or not, a relatively large portion of milk is wasted each day (moreso in some areas as compared to others) because the market is just not developed. Kenya is a milk-deficit country. Demand is higher than supply nationally; yet in some areas, significant quantities of locally produced milk is thrown out, or as the farmers say, “thrown to the dogs.”

My company is providing the business technical assistance to the farmer organizations, and we are working with a good partner on the ground that provides the livestock management technical assistance. Together, we can incorporate both sides of the business in one coordinated effort.

My experience so far with rural farmers is one of inspiration; these farmers are extremely perceptive, know their farming business, and have been burned in the past by failed donor programs. What they lack, by their own admission, is business management expertise. Our (my) mission over the next couple of weeks is very simple. We spent last week meeting the groups on a fact-finding trip. We are now putting together a business plan, or a blueprint, of various costs that will be incurred in the farmer organization, and the number of members, and the corresponding volumes of milk, required to sustain the organization. We will then return the blueprint to the group, and present our findings. It will be up to the groups to decide if they can meet the membership and volumes proposed in the plan.

The business case is this: if farmers can organize, group their milk together in a centralized place, a significant volume of milk can be found in one place every day. Processors, or big buyers, will be more willing to make one stop, for a decent amount of milk, instead of doing the current bus-stop routine each day, going from farm to farm to pick up 10 to 20 liters per stop. It would be much more efficient to make one stop and pick up 3,000 liters.

The farmers will also have better bargaining power, have more time to spend on the farm caring for the animals, and receive a constant, consistent source of income, among other benefits.

The business case is clear, and it has worked successfully in other areas. I have found the main issue to be one of motivation. As in any “development” work, the people on the ground have to be motivated on their own, with a desire to make the business work. This program is completely farmer-funded; there is no donor promising equipment, or aid, or any sort of handout. Farmers are paying dues to the association at minimum, with the extra possibility of share purchases for equity ownership in the business. This farmer-sourced funding will provide the initial capital required to fund the organization.

A textbook example is a comparison of two groups that we met with last week. They were exact opposites. One group had been brought together by a local leader (who I believe has political aspirations). The farmers we met with were not sure why they came together, had no evident motivation of their own, and were looking for “help.” It seamed that their leader was forming the group in an effort to attract outside help from various NGOs. Many of the group members, it appeared, were simply following the leader without really knowing why.

On the other had, the second group was well formed, with a clear leader on the ground that the farmers respected. This leader was, in fact, a dairy farmer himself. He may not have had the most cows, nor produced the most milk, but was capable of bringing farmers together for the right reasons, and generating the necessary motivation and moral within the group. These farmers were telling us what they wanted to do; they explained problems they were facing, and gave us possible solutions to the problems. They were happy. They were excited. They were in charge. And they were very serious.

As with any program, issues certainly exist. Risks are evident. But I was at least motivated by the people I met, and look forward to putting together a plan that the groups can use for their formation and planning.

During the last two weeks in August, I had originally planned to return to Tanzania and visit the many friends made during my stay in 2004; included in that trip was a stay at the school where I taught. However, due to various reasons, included work permit issues, that trip has been postponed until the last two weeks in September.

Instead, I will be managing an eight day business training seminar for winners of a national youth business plan competition. Specifically, I will oversee the seminar for the local winners in and around a town called Nyeri, near Mount Kenya, in those last weeks of August. This will be something completely different for me, and I am very much looking forward to it. The business plan competition was co-sponsored by TechnoServe, the Ministry for Youth Affairs, and various private sector companies, including Lenovo. (Note: the term “youth” here apparently refers to anyone aged 18 to 35. The really good news is that, in Kenya at least, I am still a youth!)

That is about it for now. Hopefully, you can tell that everything is good here. The experiences are new, exciting, challenging. Even my past dairy experiences in Zambia are paying dividends today.

An Interesting Week

Last week was very interesting--a week of changes and transitions, unexpected events, and beautiful sights.

It all began on Monday morning with a simple morning meeting. We were wrapping up the Millennium Village project, and this meeting was a progress update, and assessment of what was remaining. William, the business advisor on the project, and I knew that most of the facets of the project were completed on our end, and it was a matter of putting together the final deliverable. The others in the meeting agreed, and we all decided how to package the information. The project was rapidly coming to an end, one month early.

William was rolling on to a dairy project. It just so happened that the dairy team was having a two-day offsite meeting at Lake Naivasha with all of the field staff. The offsite was another progress update of sorts, mainly a chance for all those involved to come together, agree on what was remaining in the project, and how best to accomplish those tasks. The country director told William that he should plan on attending the offsite. Unexpectedly, the attention turned to me. The country director asked what I was working on, other than the Millennium project. My response was, “Not much.” I mean, I had a couple of small papers I was writing for the horticulture team, but my consistent focus had been the Millennium Village since arriving.

“Well, maybe you should come with us to Naivasha,” said the country director. He and William were going to find out if there was room in the budget for me.

Later that day, I was told that I was indeed going to the dairy offsite, and that we would leave Wednesday morning. Back to cows!!! I had a feeling that this would lead to a longer term project, but I wasn't certain. I checked the computer to see what documents I had from my prior project in Zambia. These might come in handy to refresh my memory.

Tuesday evening, on my way out of the office, I ran by the country director. Someone had told me that I should be ready to leave the office at 7:30 am the following morning, and I wanted to confirm. The director said that he and a couple of others were leaving at 7:30 to visit another project, and that he would then be dropped off in Naivasha to meet the dairy team for lunch. I had two choices-to leave early and visit the other project, or to leave later with the rest of the dairy team and go straight to Naivasha. Since I wasn't all that busy, I was all for leaving in the early group. The director agreed, saying that I might be some help on this other project.

In hindsight, that turned out to be a great decision. In the car ride, I find out that this other project is a farm, near Lake Naivasha, that is looking at a new project and the related financing. This meeting was to meet the owners of the farm, look at the operations, and get a general feel for their seriousness and commitment. I read the preliminary document that had been prepared by TechnoServe, made some comments, and looked forward to seeing the place.

And what a place it was.

We pulled into the farm, which was massive, and were greeted by some steep stone stairs, and Panther sitting on top of the stairs. Panther, we were told, was a family dog, a mix of local breeds, and the only remaining survivor of leopard attacks. The family had lost 8 other dogs to leopards. I began to think...this could be really interesting. Leopards?

The house was built into the side of a large hill (some might call it a small mountain). I should mention, Lake Naivasha and this house are in the middle of the Rift Valley, so the landscape is incredible. We climbed the stairs and entered the living room, which was set up for tea and coffee. All of us introduced ourselves, shared some stories (including the story of the dogs), and “talked business.” The family room was sprinkled with various farm products--almost like a show-and-tell. Amazingly, a bookshelf had be laid out with some homemade dairy products: cheeses, butter, strawberry jam, yogurts, etc. These were all on display for us to taste, and take home. I had never tasted homemade yogurt before, but after that strawberry yogurt, it will be very hard to buy any mass produced yogurt again.

Then the owners said we should go and “see the farm.” We climbed back down the stairs, with the faithful Panther leading the way, and got into the pick-up. The owner and our director were in the cab, and the rest of us got into the back of the pick up, and held on. We drove and drove and drove. No roads, a spattering of trails, and a ton of bush driving. We spent probably two to three hours driving around the farm, and I have a feeling we saw only a small fraction of the place.

Any time you live outside of the major cities in Africa, one of the main issues you have to face is water. Getting access to water is a problem; it is not like you can just hook up to a municipal water supply. So one of the focuses of our farm tour was the water source, and what the family had done to secure the source.

The owners had built a spillway and dam combination on a local river. The dam slowed up the river and created a pond. The side spillway was adjustable, controlling the flow of water diverted to a second pond.

The diverted water from the dam-spillway combo ran to a second pond that was the actual source of water for the farm's irrigation. The owners showed us the pumping station that they had built themselves; in fact, most things on this farm they had built themselves, including the house. The pumping station and pond provided the water for irrigation; most of the water used for household consumption was provided by capturing and storing rainwater.

The pond was situated in such a convenient location that hippos had taken up residence. Hippos aren't really a bother, we were told, except that they can demolish fences on the farm. Most fences that are secure enough to contain cattle are no match for a three ton beheamoth. Not to mention the fact that they are very dangerous. But when it comes to the crops, hippos don't really do any damage.

More damaging were the wild pigs and warthogs that stroll on to the farm. Both the pigs and the warthogs burrow under the fences, and ravage through the crops, digging them up along the way. At one point, the farm was growing lots of potatoes, but the owners got tired of feeding the pigs, and gave up.

We continued exploring the farm, seeing cattle, cranes, secretary birds, ibis, and beautiful vistas left and right. It was an incredible afternoon, and I was very glad I decided to tag along. We were a bit late getting to Lake Naivasha and the dairy meeting. We had not anticipated a three-hour tour of the farm, but none of us wanted to cut that short.

Lake Naivasha turned out to be beautiful as well, although most of the two-day affair was spent in a conference room. But that is a story for another day.

On Friday, after returning from Naivasha, I spoke to the team leader on the farm project. It appears that she could use my help. So, going along for the ride was a good move for many reasons; it looks like I will end up working on this project, which should be very interesting and challenging. Hopefully that was not my last visit to the farm.

Nakuru National Park

A couple of weekends ago, a few of us decided to take advantage of a Friday Kenyan holiday, and use the long weekend for a safari in a national park. Since most of us are on a budget, we opted for the camping (read: cheap) option.

Thursday afternoon, we headed northwest from Nairobi towards Nakuru National Park. The drive was four hours through some of the most scenic landscape on the continent-namely the Rift Valley. It was this route, the story goes, that inspired The Lion King. We were told that the Disney artists actually came and took photos of the Rift Valley, and translated them into drawings for the movie. We even saw the peak upon which, in the movie, Mufasa tells Simba “this will all be yours someday.” Impressed? I thought not.

To continue the movie trivia, we drove pass another famous spot along Lake Naivasha. Hell's Gate is a well-known spot for hiking and mountain biking, with some good views of wildlife (the non-dangerous variety). This is also the spot where Tomb Raider 2 was filmed, for all you Lara Croft/Angelina Jolie fans out there. However, I have yet to visit Hell's Gate; any further descriptions will have to come later.

In addition to the majestic scenery, the ride took us on some of the most decrepid, pot-hole infested roads ever traveled.

So the group (four of us, plus our tour guide and our camp manager/cook) arrived in Nakuru right after sunset, and pulled into the campsite which was just past the entry gate. What we saw immediately made me fell very inadequate, and maybe a bit jealous. The only other group in the campsite was a logo-splattered caravan of Nissan 4x4's, complete with rooftop tents, bush bars, fog lights front winches, and generators. These guys were hard core. Here we came in our vintage-90's Toyota van, with rear wheel drive, and rented Tents-in-a-Bag. Hmm...

Still in awe, we set up camp around a fire pit. There were some logs to sit on, but they were quite scattered about. Not wanting to shout at each other in the dark, some of us in the group struggled to roll the immovable logs closer to the fire pit. (I say some of us, because it wasn't me. I was too busy laughing at the rest of the group and trying to take pictures. Obnoxious, I know.) The log rolling proved to be a big mistake; you will soon find out why. After the logs were set, we put up the tents relatively close to the fire pit, for warmth and light. Miraculously, the tents went up relatively easily.

It wasn't too long after dinner that it started drizzling, which in short order turned into heavy raining. That put a damper on the fireside chat, so we decided to pack it in. The noise of the rain on the tents was quite peaceful, and the night passed without incident.

I woke before the sun rose, to the noise of David, our camp manager preparing breakfast. It was early-six or so-and other than David, I was the first one up. The light from the fire cast shadows on our tent, specifically shadows of ants marching all along our tent. They were crawling along the seams, probably because there was a small overhang that protected them from the wet rain and dew. The ants were on all four sides of our tent, and it was an eery sight-something out of a nature show. The shadows made the ants seem bigger than they were.

I quickly unzipped the opening, and strategically emerged from the tent, trying to prevent being showered with ants. About thirty seconds later, I started feeling the pain of bites-first on my legs, then on my stomach and back. I jumped up and down, and rolled up my pant legs to find numerous ants gnawing on my presumably tasty skin. I took off my shirt and started picking the ants off of my stomach, back and neck.

The ants were not only on our tent, but in it as well. Evidently we had slept with the ants crawling around our inside our tent, undisturbed, warm, and protected from the rain. Undisturbed, that is, until we started moving. The fact that a small herd of zebra were having an early morning graze in the field not twenty yards away was overshadowed by the unexpected attack.

David told us that these were the dreaded Siafu, or Safari Ants-a notoriously aggressive variety I remember seeing on The Discovery Channel. These ants can kill goats, chickens, even human babies if left unattended-they are that aggressive.

And they hurt like hell. The Siafu aren't poisonous, but they sure pack a punch, especially the big soldier ants. Ouch. We eventually determined that many of the logs that we moved the previous night happened to be home to the Siafu. Between us moving the logs, and the rain, the Siafu were especially active, some might say vengeful.

I was slightly pleased to see the hard-core group on the other side of the campsite picking ants off their legs as well. All that cool gear won't protect you from the smallest nuisances. While it made me feel better to know that we weren't the only ones being eaten, that fact did little to alleviate our troubles.

We quickly ate breakfast, trying to stay moving all the while, and left for a game drive. As we were pulling out of the campsite, we were still picking off the last remaining Siafu.



The rest of the trip was filled with game drives, my first since being in Tanzania in 2004. Nakuru National Park is basically the area around Lake Nakuru, a natural soda lake home to tens of thousands of flamingos. It is an amazing sight, and a deafening sound. At certain places in the park, you can get out and walk up to the shoreline, mere yards from the immense flocks of flamingos eating algae from the lake.

Nakuru is also home to a largely successful breading program for both white and black rhino-very rare sights in most other parks. We saw so many rhinos, that they became a non-event by the end of the trip. We even saw a couple of baby rhinos, evidence of the successful breeding and anti-poaching programs in Nakuru.

The second night, as we were fixing dinner, a drunk South African approached us from the hard core group, holding a half empty wine glass. (Yes, they even had wine glasses. We were drinking out of plastic cups.) I asked, “Where are you guys headed?”

“Cairo,” was the response. Cairo! Egypt!!! I wanted to get on my knees and beg him to take me along. In my mind, to drive from Cairo to Capetown (or Capetown to Cairo, as this group was doing) would be the ultimate adventure, filled with sights and experiences unparalleled anywhere else in the world. However, I refrained from any an all begging, and just said something stupid, like, “that's teriffic” or, even worse, “sounds like a great trip.” I have to admit, once again, I was really jealous...

The following day, we were going to eat lunch, break camp and head home. We came back from the early morning game drive, to see David in the camp with a wide-eyed look on his face. “The baboons!” he yelled, as we got out of the van. We looked around and saw nothing. Then slowly, among the shrubs and trees surrounding the camp, we began to spot what David was talking about. First it was one, then a handful, and then more and more appeared.

In all, we estimate a pack of 30-40 baboons had basically surrounded the campsite, waiting for an opportune time to sneak in and grab something. Most of the hard core group was out on a game drive, so the baboons struck their camp first. One grabbed a bag of what appeared to be marshmallows, and ran towards the shrubs. He then sat, turned and looked at us, and proceeded to eat the multi-colored marshmallows, one by one, until the bag was empty.

Another couple jumped up on a table, knocked over a couple of wine glasses, opened a bag of bread and started eating. We chased them away from the table, laughing a bit as we did so. The entire escapade was infuriating and histerical at the same time.

After the other camp had lost its entertainment value, the baboons turned their attention towards our camp. It was amazing to see how aggressive and fearless baboons are, and to see their very large teeth, which they were not ashamed to show. They would get right up close, and you had to be as aggressive as they were to chase them away. And they are smart. If you turn your back, they will come up behind you and grab something while you are not looking. That is how we lost all of our bananas.

And our bread.

And our garlic.

The one that took the bananas was on my watch. I was packing away one of the dismantled tents, and I turned to put the tent in the van. A baboon came down the tree right behind me, grabbed the bananas, and climbed right back up the tree, just a few feet beyond arms reach. I looked up at him, demanding that he return the bananas. He just stared back at me (it was definitely a “he”) and ate the bananas whole, one after another, peel and all.

The second night of our stay, another couple had set up camp in the campsite, closer to the site's entrance. They had brought a bright red tent that they had vacated that morning for a sunrise game drive. Well, the baboons had a field day with bright red play-toy. We tried to stop them, but it was no use. The baboons were relentless. We had a hard enough time trying to protect our own campsite, let alone an unattended one. They hopped on top of the red tent, jumped up and down, slid off the side, and did it all over again. Repeatedly.

Up.

Down.

Up

Down.

Up.

Snap.

The baboon on the tent fell to the ground with a thud and was dumfounded. He had no idea what happened, but the tent was destroyed. We were laughing; it was a very funny sight to see. After the tent was leveled, some air was trapped inside, creating a pillow-like bubble, that caused further intrigue.

By the time we pulled out, the troop was growing tired of the campsite and was beginning to move on. On the ride back towards Nairobi, most of us slept, looking forward to our first shower in a couple of days.

The trip to Nakuru was a memorable one. The game drives were spectacular, and full of animals, waterfalls, and beautiful scenery. However, most of that was overshadowed by the surreal events at the campsite itself.

Here are some more photos from the weekend in Nakuru:

More photos

Here are some more photos from the recent excursions to the Giraffe Center and the Elephant Orphanage. Hope you enjoy.

Kenya Update

After about a month living here, I am finally getting around to writing an update. I apologize for taking so long, but rest-assured, life is good. Nairobi is not the threatening, nerve-racking city that I once thought it was. In fact, the Kenyan capital is a vibrant, interesting town, if not a bit of an urban mess.

The TechnoServe office here is quite impressive, and highly regarded in the community. My specific Millennium Village project is going well, and I have a good support system within the organization. I finished a proposed-grain bank business plan, and am in the midst of researching the banana value chain in the western part of the country. At the moment, I am sitting in Kisumu, the major city on the shores of Lake Victoria. The weather here is much different than in Nairobi; it is hot, and the lake provides plenty of humidity. Right now, there is a electricity outage for the entire day. Evidently this was planned, although no one told me. They are “upgrading” the power grid, and today is one of a series of Sundays planned to be electricity-free. So I am stuck in the only major hotel here; it has a generator.

Back in Nairobi, we live in a safe neighborhood called Westlands (we being me and my two flat-mates, a Korean and an Italian). It is quite the international flat. Within our two-building complex, there are anywhere between five and ten of us TechnoServe folk living. The complex can be very entertaining and social. In addition, the apartment is situated along the Nairobi River, at the bottom of an impossibly steep valley. The walk up the “driveway” is absolutely brutal.


View from our apartment balcony

It didn't take me long to rediscover why I love it here. My first weekend in-country, I was petting baby elephants at an orphanage and feeding giraffes at a research center.


Beth petting an orphaned baby elephant

Baby elephant feeding

Giraffes looking for food

Feed Me Please!

A sign at the Giraffe Center

After the giraffe-petting, a group of us proceeded to get very lost on a “nature hike” that was completely devoid of any signage. Ninety minutes after enthusiastically embarking on an expected 30-minute stroll, having only seen lots of large insects, we finally stumbled upon a couple of guards at an entrance to an estate (a private, guarded neighborhood). Having no idea where we were, we tried to explain to the guards what we were doing. They laughed.

Evidently we had long left the confines of the nature park. The guards said we were 5 km from where we should have been, and where our hired driver was patiently waiting, tallying up his continually-increasing bill. We called our driver, passed the phone to the one of the guards, who proceeded to mockingly explain what had happened and where we were. Eventually, we got home-a bit later than expected, and our wallets a bit lighter-but we got home.

Getting lost

Just this morning, I attempted to run in Kisumu's hot and humid weather. I tried to get up before it got too hot, and the temperature was actually quite pleasant. About half-way through my anticipated route, I heard footsteps behind me. Multiple footsteps. Kisumu is a pedestrian and bike filled town, and there happened to be many people out at that time in the morning, most going to church (I assumed, this being Sunday, and Kenya being an intensely religious country). So the thump-thump of the footsteps behind me didn't make me nervous, but they kept getting closer. Finally, the footsteps were next to me, and I turned to find four boys smiling, running with me. They were probably about ten years old. I asked them where they were going, and, of course, they were on their way to church.

So we continued running together for a while. I was already drawing looks from the people on the street. I was the only white person in sight, and I was wearing shorts-which is rare-and showing my embarrassingly pale Irish legs. Needless to say, people were already staring. Now, the white guy with ghostly legs had four boys running with him. This motley group actually caused people to stop in their tracks. A group of girls on the other side of the street stopped walking and giggled. A couple of bikers skidded to a halt and watched us as we passed. The boys loved it; I was mildly entertained as well. At least it took my mind off of the mounting agony that was caused by the running.

And this brings us to the really sad part of the story. These boys were running care free. They were talking to each other, laughing, jumping about, not bothered by the act of running what so ever. I, on the other had, was becoming less and less entertained by the boys, and more ticked-off at my lack of endurance. I was sweating profusely, gasping for humid dust-filled air, trying not to think of how far I had to go. Yet my ego prevented me from not keeping pace with the boys. To make matters worse, two of the boys were barefoot, one became barefoot when he decided to carry his sandals (really flip-flops), and the fourth was wearing leather shoes. I felt stupid in my trainers and running socks.

Finally-finally-the boys had to go straight, when I was turning right. We all shook hands, said goodbye, and I sent them on their way to church. After I made sure I was out of sight of the boys, I stopped running, gasped for air, and decided to walk the rest of the way home. I was even looking forward to the ice-cold shower that awaited me in my electricity-free guest house.