Six Day Itinerary

If you needed any more enticement to come and visit us, here is the rough itinerary that I’ve put together for my bro and S.C. (she was our babysitter when I was 2 and basically part of the family now).  They are only in Kenya six days, so we have to make ‘em count.

Day 1 (Sunday): Chill
Play it cool because guests arrived around midnight.
Driving tour of the city
Blankets & Wine.  African Music

Day 2 (Monday): Karen
National Park of Kenya has the elephant and rhinoceros sanctuary within it. 
Giraffe Center
Lunch at Talisman, Osteria, or other delicious Karen location.
Karen Blixen Museum

Day 3 (Tues): Downtown/Kenya History Day
Kenyatta Mausoleum
National Museum
Uhuru Park
Markets
Railway Museum
(Maybe get an urban guide for this)

Day 4 (Wed): Naivasha Day
2 hour drive up rift valley to Naivasha.  Famous for hippos and other animals.
Rift valley viewpoint
Maybe stay overnight.

Day 5 (Thurs): Reality Day
Kibera tour
Masai Market at Junction

Day 6 (Fri): Whatever we missed or want to return to.
Brown’s Dairy?
Possibly stop by synagogue for services?

Depart Fri Late

They’re gonna have a blast!

Rosh Hashana in the Heart of East Africa

So, you might have wondered what happened to me… no, I didn’t fall off the planet.  I’ve been busy with the Jewish New Year, a couple of migraines, a sick hubbie (who seems be on the mend) and you know… life.  But a lot has gone on over the last… nearly week.  On Wed evening we began the celebration of Rosh Hashana here at the Nairobi Hebrew Congregation.  A few mitigating factors made the evening a bit less-than… if you know what I mean.

First, I was working on my first migraine headache of the last few days.  Two more would follow.  Also, J was in rare form, too excited to sit and listen in services and so we did much more admiring the synagogue grounds (which are lovely, BTW) than sitting inside.  Then, DW arrived directly from Mombasa and so he was hassled by the guards a bit more than was deserved.  Luggage will always spark the security-conscious mind.  He was not in the mood.  And finally, the communal dinner, for which we had paid ahead of time, seemed too much like a show for the Israeli Ambassador, who was in attendance, than a true coming together of the committed synagogue attendees.  We were asked to move twice to accommodate different groups that had to sit together.  Ugh.  I have no patience for that kind of B.S.   When I finally threw up half way through dinner, we hit the road.

Thurs morning was much more enjoyable.  Leaving J at home with Lydia was a god-send.  I was finally able to concentrate on the prayers and even meet some new people.  DW was fully-rested and in a much better mood.  NHC is an Orthodox congregation which I call Orthodox-lite meaning that the place is set up with women sitting to the sides and women don’t have any formal participation in service leading.  But you can tell that the community itself isn’t orthodox-observant.  Married women do not cover their heads and many men had their cell phones visibly strapped to their belt loops during the service.  One man even answered a call on the Bima!!  (OK, so he’s a cardiologist and it might have been important, but still.)  The community is bound by the architectural decisions of 50 years ago and by a (in my mind, false) sense that orthodox services are the most authentic way to pray. 

The liberally-minded Orthodox rabbi who has newly arrived in Nairobi asked me to offer a few words to enliven the service.  At first, he encouraged me to stand at the center bima to deliver them.  But after another woman had done exactly that, the rabbi took some flack and asked me to stay in the women’s section and speak from there.  I get it.  There’s always going to be a proverbial Mr. Cohen in the back protesting any type of change.  (No offense to any progressive Mr. Cohens out there.)

Anyway, by Fri morning’s service, I had definitely gotten my groove on and was fully in the New Year swing of things.  I had eaten my fair share of apples and honey and was starting to feel really settled here.  The services weren’t exactly as I would have hoped.  The shofar-blowing was probably the worst in all of Africa.  I never like to feel like a second class member of the community.  But with the familiar words of the piyyutim flowing over me, I felt at ease. Hopeful. Thankful. Calm.

What Are We Eating in Nairobi?

Today marks four weeks since arriving in Nairobi and as any reader of this blog knows, I’m quite pleased with our life here in the city.  If you come from my family, I’m sure the number one burning question is: what are you eating?

Here’s the truth: we’re eating a lot like we ate in the U.S. with far fewer salads.  Our house is vegetarian + fish with tilapia being the mostly readily available.  We are eating rice and vegetable stews of various types.  We eat tofu in stir frys and variously concocted soups based on whatever looks good in the store.  I made a veggie lasagna that lasted a while.  Breakfasts consist of eggs or oatmeal or yogurt or Kenya-ized cheerios (not the same as the real deal).  I roast veggies.  The shops are well-stocked with TVP and other meat substitutes, catering to the huge Indian population that eschews meat products. 

As for local foods, I’ve had ugali once with Lydia and I hope she’ll show me how she makes it the next time.  Ugali is a congealed maize block that is eaten with seasoned beans.  It’s more of a canvass for whatever else you are having, but it certainly sticks to your ribs.  Indian food is also “local” given the long history of people here from the subcontinent.  But I can’t say that we’ve experienced too much of it given time and money constraints. 

Eating out for dinner is generally tough because it requires braving the streets, dealing with a tired kiddo, and by the end we wonder why it’s so expensive.  Also, prepared food is a bit harder to come by, encouraging me to get creative even when I’m not in the mood.

J is (thankfully) still a very adventurous eater, willing to try virtually anything we put in front of him.  (So far he is resolutely against fresh tomatoes and avocado… but hardly anything else.  Doesn’t he recognize his Tucson roots?)  There is an overpriced, but very yummy restaurant nearby called Artecaffe (pronounced Art-caff by the locals), owned and run by Israelis.  They also have a bakery with some of the best breads, pita, and pastries in this city. 

Long story short, we are eating very well, thanks for asking. 

Kenyatta On Trial

Uhuru Kenyatta, Kenya’s current president, has been indicted by the International Criminal Court (ICC) for “orchestrating deadly violence” after the 2007 election.  His trial is set to begin in November.

There are so many crazy things about this situation.  First, that the Kenyans seemingly elected this apparent war criminal.  (Why is this shocking?  Americans did this too when we re-elected George W.  However, GWB probably committed war crimes against others.  Kenyatta is accused of war crimes against his own people.  Speaking of parallels, Kenyatta is also the son of the first president Jomo Kenyatta, like George W. is the son of George HW.)

Secondly, and equally stunning to me, is that this trial is actually going forward.  Can you even imagine an American president being indicted for war crimes?  (Certainly, a large percentage of them deserve it.)

Finally, what happens if he’s convicted?  This seems unlikely because the witnesses for the prosecution are dropping like flies citing security concerns.  Will someone detain him?  Will there be new elections? 

The ICC faces its own legitimacy issues not least from the fact that the U.S. is not a party to it.  Plus, so far its only open cases are in Africa, giving fodder to the critics who argue that it’s a biased entity. 

Insulated From Infrastructure

I mentioned in an earlier post that our grid power went out on Sunday around 8:30a and didn’t turn back on until around 6:30p.  When our power goes out (which it does almost daily), within seconds we can hear the large diesel generator rev up that serves our apartment complex.  It sounds like a large truck coming down our street.  Sunday was no different.  The generator revved up and power was back on immediately.  A barely noticeable interruption. 

However, this Sunday was different because the generator stayed on for so long.  Usually the generator is needed to fill a few minute gap in power.  On Sunday we started to speak louder over the generator (It is located right outside our kitchen window).  At one point during the day, DW asked, “How long will the diesel last?”  “Not forever,” I assured him.  By 5pm, the generator sputtered leaving silence.  We were out of power.

Being out of electricity in your home is something most of us have experienced.  It comes as a minor inconvenience so long as we have an alternative way to cook and a few handy flashlights and candles.  But since I didn’t know how long we would be without power, I started to worry about the food in our refrigerator and freezer.  I recognized that we wouldn’t have hot water for showers.  I wondered how long our cell phone batteries would last without being charged.  I sent DW out to get matches.

We are living in posh Nairobi where every building seems to have either a generator or an inverter (a battery system) to support our lifestyles during these power outages.  I didn’t even want to live somewhere without this cushion.  But most of the residents of Nairobi do not have this luxury, meaning that when the power goes out, it’s out.  In many ways, we are living insulated from our infrastructure. 

This notion is really an insulation from society itself.  We are aptly implored by the Rabbis, “Do not separate yourself from the community” (Pirkei Avot 2:5. thanks wikipedia). I believe that their statement had something to do with taking care of the public services.

This discussion makes me think about the provocative article recently published by Slate titled, “If You Send Your Kid to Private School, You’re A Bad Person.”  (Not very subtle title.)  The author’s main argument is that if you take your children out of the public school system, you will have no incentive to improve the system.  You have no skin in the game.  While I don’t agree with the article (after all, I am a product of a parochial school system that gave me a very important identification with my religion), I can see the author’s overall point about insulating oneself from the public works that support a society.  If the failures of the system don’t hurt you personally, then why work to improve them.  If you don’t suffer from a weak electricity grid because you can rely on backup power, then you have no need to lobby for an upgrade.  As a legislator, if you don’t experience the lapses in power that plague your city, how can you truly understand the plight of the vast majority of people who do?  ((As an aside: this argument taken to its logical extreme also doesn’t make sense.  Do all legislators need to personally experience all conditions in order to represent the needs of people who do?  No, of course not.  You don’t need to have cancer to advocate for cancer research.  Empathy works too.))) 

As I mentioned, our power came back on just before dusk, around 6:30p.  The timing of the outage sure seems suspect to me.  If I was going to implement a planned outage, I would probably choose daytime hours on a Sunday.  Was this something intended or something accidental?  We’ll never know.

Honesty About Labor

(Never fear, this post will not be about childbirth.)

Today is not Labor Day in Kenya.  I don’t even know if they have a salute to Labor here.  However, in hiring Lydia, I had my first contact with employment.

I interviewed three highly qualified women who had recommendations recorded with the U.S. Embassy.  To begin each interview, I asked each woman, “What do you want out of a job?'”  In the U.S., I’ve been asked this question dozens of times.  Each time, I prepare an answer about self-growth, skill acquisition, or some other type of self-improvement that the job will afford me.  But this is not the kind of answer I received from the perspective nannies.  When asked, each told me their salary requirements and any other bonuses they expected.  At first I was put off by this response.  I wanted to know if they preferred childcare or home management.  But, upon deeper reflection, I think there is a real honesty in their answers.  They aren’t nannies because they love children (even though I’m sure they do).  They work to bring home a salary, to pay for daily needs, food, clothing, and school fees.  And so this is the true answer to my question. 

Am I delusional when I think that work can hold the key to self-improvement?  Or should I rethink my relationship with work?

Happy Labor Day!

Lovely Relaxing Weekend at Home

The weekend started out a bit more stressfully than it should have.  DW tried to return home in Fri PM traffic (not a good idea) to pick up J and me for a Fri night service and dinner at the synagogue.  There is a lovely Jewish community here in Nairobi with its own grounds, building, and even a new rabbi.  The Nairobi synagogue is apparently the only one in sub-saharan Africa outside of South Africa.  They have welcomed us warmly.  But getting there on Fri is just not the easiest thing to do.  Thankfully, we made the ~7km journey in just under an hour (I wasn’t kidding about the traffic). 

Dinner was potluck and homey.  J got very excited and fell down a few steps.  Within seconds, he had recovered.  The new rabbi and his wife seem like they could become friends.  Breathe.  Relax. 

On Saturday, we set out for Karen, a suburb of Nairobi, that is very lush and green and dotted with large single and multi-family homes.  A real retreat from the urban crush of Nairobi center city.  We had lunch at the gorgeous and delicious Talisman Restaurant that even had a play area for J.  Truly a heavenly spot.  (If you need any enticing to visit, we’ll take you to Talisman.  Reason enough to get on a plane.)

I also tried my hand and nerves behind the wheel for the first time.  If the switch to the left side of the road wasn’t hard enough, the roads are pocked with the damage left from heavy rains, the traffic is unpredictable at best and downright terrifying at worst.  I had to watch my mirrors just to be sure that I still had all four wheels on the road.  But at least I can take the car if I have to now.  DW will be away two days this week, so the car is at my disposal.

On Sunday, we hosted friends M/E & T for brunch.  Waffles and fruit.  For most of the day, our apartment ran on the power from the backup diesel generator until that ran out (fodder for another post entirely.)  We are cautiously eating salads again, taking all possible precautions.

I truly value these weekends that we spend as a family.  When we were back in the U.S. it felt like we were either prepping for DW’s next trip, he was away, or he was back but jetlagged and recovering.  It was very hard to collectively catch our breath.  Maybe I should just value that stressful time because it now gives me a better appreciation for what we have.