Kenya - The Black Continent...

Remember that I ended my last entry with "... travelling is like blood, and we travellers are like blutlusting vampires, always thirsting for more and more... fresh, sweet, seductive, inspiring new blood!!!", how right these words are! After I've travelled almost whole Southeast Asia, parts of the Middle East, India & Nepal, East Asia, Northern America and most countries in Western Europe, I couldn't help myself but to venture out to a completely new part of the world, where I haven't been before - Africa. The Black Continent!!!

Well, I have been to Northern Africa like Morocco and Egypt, both countries of the so called islamic influenced "Magreb". But this time I wanted to see another face of the black continent, the Africa farther south and decided to head to East Africa: Kenya, Tanzania & Uganda. I only had like 2weeks, a way too short but enough for a first glimpse.

My last journey to Southeast Asia in Jan/Feb 2007 was for closing a chapter... and three months later I am heading out again, ready to open a new chapter...

- Kenya - The real Africa -

"I had a farm in Africa at the

Women at the Indian Ocean
Mombasa

foot of the Ngong Hills. The Equator runs across these highlands, a hundred miles to the north, and the farm lay at an altitude of over six thousand feet. In the day-time you felt that you had got high up; near to the sun, but the early mornings and evenings were limpid and restful, and the nights were cold... (...) In the highlands you woke up in the morning and thought: Here I am, where I ought to be." ("Out of Africa" by Karen Blixen)

Everyone who watched the movie "Out of Africa" will remember the magnificant scenery, the beautiful music, the wildness and seemingly endless wide praire. And the ones who haven't watched the film but have read the book and taken the words of Karen Blixen into their hearts and mind where they paint vivid pictures of Africa that evoke dreams of having an own trip to that part of the world - just to see the scenes that the author describes so skillfully in her book with the backdrop of East Africa with its beauty and splendor - will come to Africa with a certain image of it.

In fact, thousands trek to Africa, East Africa in particular and wander around the farm of Baroness Blixen, pay the 200 shillings to see the house or venturing into the wildness on safaris.

And in fact many travel and safari companies recommend that one should read "Out of Africa" before coming to Kenya. They tell their customers that the book represents real Africa, the real Kenya.

The visitors come, and surprise surprise, they don't find what the book was about, not if they wander the streets of Nairobi, here and there on their way to Karen they get a glimpse of the former glory of the colonial empire, but these are images that have been fading for some time.

And then, there is the another image that people have of Africa. The pictures of dying people, skinny children, droughts, HIV, war, crime, genocide... which we saw so many times while sitting on our coach and watching the news on TV.

I think, like everything in life, nothing is just black nor just white, the truth and reality is somewhere inbetween. I am sure that travellers who come to Africa will see both images, if they really want to... and maybe they can discover even more images of Africa. Anyway, I will see with what kind of image I will return to Germany.

And what? You're asking if I gonna see the real Africa? Well, I have no idea. I don't even know if there is a "real" and a "not so real" Africa, the only thing I know that I am in Africa, isn't that enough for the start? So, let's go and see!

"Off in the distance, Nat King Cole was singing "South of the Border." The song was about Mexico, but at the time I had no idea. The words "south of the border" had a strangely appealing ring to me. I was convinced something utterly wonderful lay south of the border." ("South of the Border, west of the Sun" by Haruki Murakami)

- Mombasa - This is Africa -

Africa welcomed me with a beautiful sunny day. When I stepped out of the plane, the sky seemed to be endless blue and full of adventure. Immigration took me 2hours and when I passed the exit gate of the airport, I was immediately surrounded by hords of friendly taxi drivers offering to get me into the city for a "good price" like 12USD, 1/5 of what a teacher earns in Kenya. It took me a while to get rid off them and I bumped into a guy from Dubai. His name was Omar and he was on holiday, visiting his relatives in Kenya and to hunt, as hunting is strictly forbidden in the Arabian Emirates, and he noted that "in the Emirates you can't even shoot a fucking rabbit without getting into jail!" and when I asked him where his guns are and if hunting is allowed in Kenya he answered "Guns are easy to get, and a permission to shoot whatever you want as well... this is Africa, you know... Africa!"

As Omar told me that his cousin will return within 5min with a car to get him into the city and that I could just have a ride with them, I decided to wait with him. But then 5min in Africa time are approximately 30min for us or 50 real minutes. Anyway, his cousin finally showed up and we drove into the city. On the way they rolled a joint and smoked it in the car. "You want a puff, man? Stuff like this calms you down! You know, you are in Africa now!", I kindly rejected and Omar pulled a little pack out of his pocket and gave it to me, "just in case you wanna smoke some later!" When we arrived in Mombasa I said goodbye to Omar and his cousin, they wished me good luck for my journey, and "Remember you're in Africa, so be careful... this is Africa!" they said and drove off and away - leaving a puff of Marihuana smoke in the air.

So I was standing there at a busy junction somewhere in Mombasa, among a crowd of black people rushing and passing by in all directions and when I looked around myself and realized where I actually was, I said to myself: "Ohh my god, I am in Africa!"

- Mombasa - Boy, you are in Africa -

I wasn't sure where to go from now, straight to Tanzania and Zanzibar? Nairobi and then on a safari? or Kilimanjaro? or Lamu? So I checked out the buses and found out that there were no buses leaving anymore on the same day so that I had to stay a night in Mombasa before moving on the next morning. I walked through the city and checked into a hostel right next to the bus company from where I wanted to take a bus to Lamu Island in the north of Kenya close to the Somalian border.

The "New people's hostel" wasn't a very inviting place but convenient as my bus was leaving at 6:00AM in the morning, so I got myself a large and pretty clean double room with own bath and a balcony facing the street for 7USD. When I signed into the guestbook of the hostel I checked if some other travellers were currently staying there, but I was the only one. A day before my arrival, 2 Canadians and an American (called Grace) stayed in but had already left, I've just missed them a few hours.

So, I ventured out into the city by myself and bumped into Roger, the driver who was driving Omar, me and his cousin from the airport. I was chatting with him when a white guy came along and Roger introduced me to him. He was a middle aged German, who had been living in Kenya for several years. His English was awful as he kept mixing German and English words together, so that I was wondering if anyone in Mombasa actually gets what he was saying! Anyway, it turned out that his German was even worse... with an heavy Saxon-accent, which is in my personal opinion the worst German accent of all and so hard to understand. As I told him that I was on my way to the seaside he offered to show me the way through the old city. Now and then he stared at me and said in English: "Boy, you are in Africa! Keep it slow and be careful, many bad black boys! Be careful of black boys!" I wasn't sure of whom I should be more scared of, the "bad black boys" I haven't met yet or that "white Saxon guy" with his strange German accent?!

Anyway, his and Omars words somehow left an impact on me and when I walked through the city alone I from time to time checked if anyone is following me or if someone could jump out a small alley for robbing or killing or eating me alive - and no, I am not kidding.

So I had a day to spend in Mombasa. As it turned out, Mombasa was a quite interesting place. Kenya’s second largest city has a laid-back attitude, where locals dressed in traditional Islamic garb move as slowly as possible in the blistering heat. The Arabic influence is quite evident in the dress, architecture, and food of Mombasa. In additon Mombasa has a lot Indian influences as well, and most businesses are run by Indians.

I took a stroll into the Old Town to get a taste of Swahili culture and street food, then visited the historic Fort Jesus but didn't enter as they wanted me to pay like 12USD, so I played some football on a field next to the Fort with the local kids instead - for free.

As Mombasa lays at the Indian Ocean, I got a Tuk-tuk to get me to the sea for a walk along the beaches and for some nice photos, some fruit juice and a glimpse on all the fancy hotel ressorts, before heading back to my hostel where I sat on the balcony the whole evening, watching the busy life on the street while listening to some music and feeding myself with chocolate biscuits and cigarettes.

- Mombasa - On road to Lamu -

If you have ever travelled in Eastern Africa, then you have no doubt heard of the island of Lamu. Among travellers here, it has an almost legendary status. It’s the Kathmandu of Africa, an idyllic island where multiple cultures cross. It’s Africa meets India meets the Middle East meets the Western world.

The only problem is, it is a kind of hard to get to - at least that's what other people say. Yeah, sure, you can fly there for a few hundred dollars from Nairobi or Mombasa. But if you want to travel there overland by public transport, the way the locals travel, then you might "end up in having a bit of an adventure!" As I was in an avdenturous mood, I decided to check it out - and I actually never mind a bit of an adventure.

The bus supposed to take about 6hours from Mombasa to Lamu (6USD). But always remember that Africa time is not real time - there's that fictional construct again - and nothing takes as long as it is supposed to.

I did catch the 6:00AM bus and it even left on time. The bus was quite ok, by far not as bad as I imagined, the seats weren't really comfy but at least I did have a seat. How many people can you fit on a single bus? Okay, take that number, multiply by ten and add another 15 then you might equal the number of people we had on the bus. It was infinitely crowded. People standing and sitting in the aisles, people sitting on other people's laps. I was glad that I had a seat at the window and not as the aisle as my neighbour had a very big fat ass pressed against his face, so I was ok, even though a chicken was running around between my legs making strange noises. For a second or two I was seriously tempted to grab that chicken and to throw it out of the window, but then I wasn't sure what the owner would have said and what the other passengers would have thought of me, throwing chickens out of a bus window! So I decided to leave that chicken alone and to have a nap!

I've read that the busride from Mombasa to Lamu is a nightmare, but it wasn't that bad at all. The road from Mombasa to Malindi is paved and after Malindi, it wasn't that bad as well. Now and then the road was not that good but nothing that I would complain about. Though the driver speeded like an maniac and seemed to relish hitting the bumps with as much force as possible.

When the driver wasn't speeding, he was stopping to drop off passengers and pick up passengers. But for some unknown reason the busride took longer than expected. The temperature inside the bus was getting hotter and hotter and hotter. The one bottle of water I brought for the journey was getting lower and lower and lower. I thought this was only supposed to be a 6hour journey. But well, Africa time.

I fell asleep and woke up when the bus stopped and two guys with military uniforms and very big machine guns get on the bus. The guy in the seat behind me provided the necessary information. “Those guys are just for protection. This bus goes very close to the Somalian border. And many times, armed bandits from Somalia come across the border to rob the busses. So from here to Mokoye we have to have an armed escort." "Great" I said and continued my nap.

From time to time I woke up and glimpsed out of the window. As we were getting closer to the Somalian border with all its current conflicts, I saw a fair number of Somalian people wandering around along the road through the savannah - probably refugees. I noticed the very unique beauty of those people and their appearance. Somalian women looked slim and tall, elegant and proud, they were wearing beautiful, colourful traditional dresses and had a black skin like ebony. How sad it was too see such kind of people on the run and I would loved to hear their stories, where they come from and why. And of course I would love to know and hear fom them how Somalia is like or was like!

For some unknown reason, the bus pulled off the main dirt road onto a small dirt road. Everyone on the bus groaned. What now? Again, the guy in the seat behind me informed me. "We have turned off the main road to go to the small village of...something...near Somalia because this bus company wants to pick up passengers there." Great, closer to the Somalian border with Somalian bandits which are just waiting for a bus like ours to pass by like a big fat stuffed turkey, ready to be surfed on a silver tablet for dinner. Great, I thought to myself and continued my nap.

We were about twenty minutes down this dirt track when we came to a massive military blockade. So, what now? Again, the guy in the seat behind me explained. "We are close to Somalia so they have to search the bus for smugglers. Everyone must get off the bus to have their bags searched for contraband." Great.

An half hour later we stopped again, this time in a tiny village somewhere in the vicinity of the Somalian border where I informed everyone who asked that I was German, but of Chinese origins. We took on a few more passengers and continued on our way. The friendly guy in the seat behind me informed me that it was only another hour or so to the boat dock for Lamu. "You mean an hour African time?" I asked the guy, and he was like "What? What is African time?!" and I smiled and said "Forget it, mate!".

After almost 9,5hours we finally arrived at the boat dock for Lamu. I jumped off the bus and on the next ferry which was already waiting for passengers. The ferry ride took another 15minutes and I was finally in Lamu. I jumped off the ferry and fought my way through all the touts, who were already waiting and trying to bring me to "their hostels" for getting some comission, but I walked straight to the hostel of my choice which was right at the boat peer anyway, with a balcony facing the sea.

I checked into a double room (10USD) with - as usual - my own bathroom, an own bed for my backpack and a kingsize bed for me and went on the balcony for a rest, I lit up a cigarette, opened a chilly bottle of Coke, enjoyed the view on the sea and said to myself: "So, this is Africa!"

To be continued… next - Kenya - The Swahili Coast...

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