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Published: December 19th 2006
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The event was called "A Village Christmas" and, in our determination to get into the holiday spirit despite the African heat, my friend, Jocelyn, and I decided we would go where no white man has ever gone before - downtown Nairobi after dark.
Memorial park (named for the 1998 Hilton bombing) did not disappoint. The tasteful holiday decorations and free "white coffee" (local favorite - powdered coffee with hot milk) made us almost forget that the concert started 2 hours late. Finally, the first musical act took the stage to great applause - a Christian Rap band ("JC - you so fresh!"
cring) followed by an experiemental jazz ensemble doing some kind of holiday music jam thing. Yet another unsuccessful attempt in this post-colonial country to create something original by mixing African and Western styles. Cursing the British, we headed for the exit.
At the park gates, we paused to consider our options: we could call a cab and go to a familiar Expat restaurant or walk to one of the many nearby Kenyan restaurants and try something new. The night was warm, encouraging the latter, but now, which way to go? My nose was starting to get a
Downtown Nairobi
One of the biggest cities in Africa. (I didn't take this photo - remember, camera stolen!) little runny and Jocelyn's eyes were beginning to bother her when we noticed some people walking by with their noses and mouths covered. One person nonchalantly murmurmed "they're tear gassing the slums. better walk with your back to the wind." Oh yes, tear gas - hate it! Decision made. We fell into the stream of people and proceeded to the nearest, enclosed restaurant that wasn't playing loud music.
Once inside, we settled into our seats, ordered some drinks and congratulated ourselves for trying to do something cultural, even though the concert wasn't what we expected. As the restaurant began to fill up, I went to move my purse under my chair but TOO LATE! 😱 It had already been stolen. There were only 2 other people sitting in our area, but, apparently, a couple walked in, sat down at the table behind us, and then promptly got up and left...most likely, with my purse. I alerted the wait staff to the theft who, strangely suggested that maybe the friend I was with actually stole my purse. (???) Confused at this suggestion, we sat down and quickly ate our dinner (of course! do I ever skip a meal??) as I
R E W A R D !
Versatile, comfortable, suede-sole dance shoes. (Size 9) Last seen at Berber's restaurant. did a mental tally of the stolen items in a mild state of annoyance:
*my camera
*my phone
*credit card
*2,500 shillings (about $40)
*MAC spice lipliner
*keys
Then, I realized there was one more item that hadn't come immediately to mind - my CUSTOM MADE SALSA DANCING SHOES!!! Yes, they were in my bag - I was hoping to meet up with some friends later that night for dancing. But now, my shoes, useless to anyone, but priceless to me had been hijacked! I felt violated....and angry. I left the restaurant frantically and started searching all the trash bins in the vicinity while aggressively examining everyone who walked by and yelling outloud to no one in particular "TAKE my money, take my phone - but don't take my shoes!!" I noticed street people started scrambling to get out of my way and suddenly I realized I had become one of the "crazy, dangerous" downtown people to avoid. This, for some reason, comforted me. But before long, the search was called off and Jocelyn, kind soul that she is, eased me into a cab and accompanied me home while I waited for my house guest to return and unlock the door.
There is no happy ending here. There is no shoe reunion to write about. I am shoeless, phoneless and wearing lipstick without lipliner. Too bad this has to be my first post from my new "home," but it is what it is.
For the sake of my Kenyan friends, I will now say just a few nice things about Nairobi: greek yogurt is available in specialty markets; salsa dancing is good; horseback riding is fantastic. Oh, and my job - my job is GREAT and exciting and challenging. But my job really takes place really in Sudan and the refugee camps along the border, so that doesn't really count.
Anyway, I'm leaving this city of shoe thieves and going home for the holidays. I can't wait to sit on the couch, watch movies and eat mom's (parasite-free) cooking. Hope to see most of you while I'm in the States. And, if you're wondering what to get me for Christmas, see list above!
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fabi, a friend from a third world home
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I got you that present for x-mas FIRST!!!
Erica, I know how do you fell.....I already got you a pare at the Colon Teather shop!!!..my friend Gary from NY is visiting me so he ´ll bring it to you soon...!!!..Girl you are a brave little crazy downtown girl at any downtown city in this world!!! XOX Fabi