Advertisement
Published: March 6th 2012
Zawadi and crew
Jambo! Join us for a sail!I asked God to put me in the presence of “Godly” people. People who could help me to see and know Him. People who could inspire me to think and act in ways which would lead me to be as He intended. I didn’t expect to find them on a short touring type trip to a country ravaged with violence, poverty, and corruption. I didn’t expect to notice them in short encounters. But yet they were there, revealed in many tales. Tales of wisdom, generosity, heroism, and persistence. So here I begin yet another travel blog. Yes, this one is filled with amazing sights and fun experiences. But also, this one contains a few tales which should be told. After all, there is much beauty and goodness in the world and it is indeed good to notice and remember it.
This trip to Kenya, my first time ever in Africa, was divided into two stops: Mombasa and Masai Mara, with short stays in Nairobi in between. Flying solo to Mombasa, my mind was filled with a mix of excitement and fear. In a Bangkok airport layover, I encountered doctors who earnestly advised me to ASAP purchase and
Karibu!
Warm breeze on the veranda, grilled fresh snapper, katchumbari (tomato, lime, chili concoction), and friendly faces. After 23 hrs of travel, welcome indeed! consume the malaria prophylactic which I had previously rejected. Later, in the dark of the plane from Bangkok to Nairobi, in serious conversations with my seat mate, I was advised to forego the malaria prophylactics which could mask the onset of malaria. This traveler was wise and well experienced in the ways of Africa having spent years in violent places working to train troubled African youth. The conversation moved into warnings for my safety in a country where people are murdered for as little as the price of 4L of gasoline. The sterility of my Korean home was beginning to seem like a beacon in the night. Too late, I’m committed. It didn’t help that my Kenyan airline flight was in a worn plane badly in need of refurbishment and filled with characters who looked as ragged on the edges as the upholstery and carpeting of the plane in which I was cramped.
The first thing I learn upon arrival in Mombasa is that the boulevard leading to the airport is reverently named “Obama Avenue”. Relief. They like Americans. Arriving at the oceanside home of my hostess, Sabine, I am greeted by my Seoul friend,
Edith
I'll never forget her beautiful smile. Fred, our housekeeper, Edith, and a passion fruit/mango smoothie on the breezy veranda. A short “snoozette”, walk into the town of Nyali, fabulous fresh fish dinner, and early to bed dissolve the anxiety of the trip and set the tone for the rest of my Kenyan stay.
The Tale of Henry and Edith
Edith has an electric smile, makes magic out of fish, herbs, and vegetables, and can turn your muscles into butter with her talents of massage. As a housekeeper for Sabine, she exudes a quiet strength and graciousness befitting someone raised with the confidence of royalty. Ask her about her children and she will likely speak with pride about their character. Values of treating others with respect and doing the right thing when confronted with difficult choices are the things most important to impart to them. She is married to Henry, a charming vociferous home manager who has a passion for cooking, physical fitness, and an even greater passion for counseling those who are downtrodden, confused, or seeking wisdom in decision making. It doesn’t take long to discern that he has a natural talent for leadership combined with a strong desire to learn from the
wisdom of others. When asked what his favorite books are, he’ll tell you “self help kind of books, like those written by Steven Covey”. Why? “Because I believe reading these will help me to counsel others. There are a lot of people in need out there and I really feel it is important to talk with them and help them to work through their situations.” In an effort to become a better parent, he has asked his daughter to write a letter to him outlining “10 things she doesn’t like about me” and then later discusses it with her. Courageous! Both Henry and Edith exude quiet humility. These 2 people, whose primary jobs are to serve others, have reminded me that in serving and caring for others, there is an opportunity to truly change the world for the better, 1 person at a time. No matter your socioeconomic level.
The stay at Sabine’s was filled with new adventures every day. There were visits to exquisite seaside homes of friends, tours of “Old Mombasa”, shopping the little town of Malindi, sailing and snorkeling the Indian Ocean, and a delightful foray into a wildlife preserve which Sabine manages. Each
Baobab tree
Mombasa area is famous for this fantastic tree. So much character in it's spindly gray silhouette. experience so different from my Korean, Chinese, and American homes. Just traveling the roads around Mombasa is an education in itself. There are the crowded and ubiquitous “matata matatus” (troublesome bus taxis) whose drivers apparently own the road. Towns are clouded with dust choking air. And so many people, any time of day or night, walking alongside the road. There are mothers with babies slung in colorful scarves against their bellies, women balancing heavy loads on their heads, bicycles precariously loaded with pineapples, shoeless tiny children walking hand in hand, men in loose, colorless clothing, and happy groups of uniformed school children. On our adventuresome visit to a remote seaside home in Marareni, we find ourselves backed off of the coconut bark covered sand path and stuck, wheels spinning, in the sand. No worries. Several “Samaritans” appeared out of the hot bushes to lend us a hand and bumpety bump we’re on our way. Later, at a roadside stop to buy mangos, before ever opening our doors, we’re inundated with volleyball sized green watermelons thrust into the passenger and driver windows. How to buy just one with all those pleading round faces peering in at you? Probably the most unique
Sabine's house
Front entry drive. and incredible experience was a visit to the restored limestone quarry, “Haller Park”. Sitting in the back of Sabine’s truck, past a guard and a heavy gate, nearing dusk I enter the Jurassic Park type preserve. Through a mysterious series of passages in the jungle, we wind our way to the spot where the giraffes reside. Soon, I find myself hand feeding 8 giraffes out of the back of the truck, dodging long necks and heavy heads, and wanting to poke myself to believe it is all real. Check out the photos and captions to learn more about this amazing “Haller Park” experience.
The Tale of Sabine
As my hostess for 6 nights, Sabine warmly welcomed me, sight unseen, into her home as a guest. A quiet, peaceful demeanor and sweet smile hide the fact that she is a cancer survivor and CEO of a major foreign company in Mombasa. She adheres rigidly to a special cancer fighting diet and lives with an emphasis on simplicity and care for animals. Nightly, she returns home after a long day, immediately cuts up several bananas, and quietly moves outdoors to a large tree in her backyard.
Asante sana!
Who knew that giraffes were so polite? They kissed Sabine before departing. The 2 male giraffes patiently waited til all females were safely on their way before loping off behind them. 3 little bush babies descend out of the darkness, down the tree, and snatch bananas out of her hand. Extremely rare behavior for these timid, nocturnal animals. I learn that bush babies aren’t the only unusual animals which Sabine has befriended. She once had a pet hippo who so loved the sound of her voice that he would come running even if he heard her over the phone. And heaven help the person who dared speak in a harsh tone toward Sabine in his presence! At least one such person was chased, running for his life. I personally witnessed giraffes dip their heads to her and lean their cheeks against hers as a way of saying “goodbye”. I also witnessed another hippo sit transfixed, gazing at Sabine, for approximately ½ hour just to hear her talking to her. Oryx (a species of antelope) have been known to linger at her parking spot in attempt to communicate their concerns to her. Suffice it to say, Sabine has a gift with animals. It is with equal affection that she speaks of her family, crediting her grandfather, many years ago in Switzerland, with planting the love of animals in her. Through her, I
Sailing
Captain Ali and Juma - the crew of the Zawadi dhow. am reminded that ALL creatures have a spirit and that as such should be treated with respect and understanding.
Of the many wonderful experiences I enjoyed while in Mombasa, probably the one I most loved was sailing the Indian Ocean in Fred’s little dhow, named the Zawadi (“gift” in Swaheli). The weathered, coarse appearance of this little boat belies the joy it provides to its occupants. Quietly, smoothly it breezes through the warm ocean. A rusty anchor, canvas sheet, fat hemp ropes, and large crude cleats make you feel as though stepping back in time. Indeed, maneuvering to “come about” requires Juma, our sailing assistant, to walk to the bow, loosen the mast, and wrap the sail around it to the other side. A slow process that makes our little Bay View sunfish feel like a sleek, high tech sailing wonder. Nonetheless, life just feels good when out on the Zawadi with the warm breeze, blue water, quiet friendly conversation, occasional singing of Kenyan songs (“Jambo bwana…”), and tales of the sea from our captain, Ali.
The Tale of Ali
Tall, thin, kali (“fierce” in Swaheli), and deeply kind, Ali recants
many stories in mixed Swaheli/english and brings joy every time we see him. He often comes to Sabine’s home to say hello, help us to buy fish (he has connections to the best, freshest fish in Mombasa), and organize our outings. His mother passed away 3 weeks prior, and now, in accordance with tradition and his Muslim faith, is hosting every day and night, for 40 days and nights, between 14 and 30 relatives who are there to “help”. Clearly, he is deeply saddened over his loss. I also learn that during the last year his modest home was broken into by thieves and he and his family were badly beaten. Yes, he has experienced much. From his many tales, I have come to believe he is a sort of “hero on the sea” – a true fisher of men who would be lost at sea. He once rescued 9 people who were stranded on a reef with the tide going out and in danger of being washed into the deep sea. He has also rescued people off of a capsized boat, a non-swimmer who was washed away in his tire ring, and even several people during the killer tsunami
Bush Baby
"Handless", appropriately named, was one of 3 regular dinner time visitors to the tree just off the veranda at Sabine's. of 2004. As Ali says, “This was very real trouble. Big trouble.” I suppose in a way, he even rescued my friend Fred by opening up the use of the ocean for her during her prior 3 year tenure in Mombasa. Indeed, when Ali is with you, you are safe. I am thankful to have met this devout, but non-radical African man who reminded me that someone so different from me and with a very tough exterior can be a friend and have a heart of gold.
Feeling as though I’ve been totally blessed to have experienced this part of Africa as a foreign resident might, I now must move on. I’ve been told “You can’t come to Kenya and NOT experience Masai Mara”. So off to Nairobi go Fred and I. While the Masai Mara game reserve might embody the wild, natural side of Kenya, the Muthaiga Country Club, where we spent the night in Nairobi, embodies the British civilized side of Kenya. This stuffy old club is full of rules, rules, rules. No money, computers, cell phones, cameras, flip flops, shorts etc… are to be seen. But it is so rich in history
Noritet and I
This lovely Masai woman and I had an instant unexplained connection. Her smile was warm and her presence peaceful, despite the fact that she has 6 children and spends her days beading on the beach to help earn money for her family. and tradition that you can almost smell the stories oozing out of the dark wood appointed rooms. And abiding by these rules affords all who are there a sort of escape from our hectic, complicated life outside the club. Even the glass encased old stuffed lion, shot in 1905 by Lord somebody, adds to the “escape” from the world environment. Where else can you dine at breakfast with white linen, roses, and 95% of the patrons wearing khaki safari clothing?
In the morning, we battle the Nairobi traffic to make our way to Wilson airport where we’ll catch our small Cessna out to the next leg of my African adventure, Masai Mara. Check out the next segment of my “Alleluia. Tales of Kenya” blog and enjoy some photos from the wild side of Kenya!
Advertisement
Tot: 0.091s; Tpl: 0.013s; cc: 12; qc: 33; dbt: 0.0447s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
