Thursday 11 November 2010

WATAMU Nov 10th
There are just so many contrasts in this relatively small area. The most noticeable is that between the hotels and the dwellings immediately beyond their boundaries. One all pools and bars and gin-slings and designer wear, the other mud walls, palm leaf roofs, corrugated iron reinforcement and the nearest clothing that comes to hand. There is the contrast between men and women, too. The men often hanging around in groups, while the women are mostly seen in or near the home with the children doing the domestic work. Young and old is another. The younger men are noisily obvious, tooting their motor-bike horns, hailing their mates and laughing ostentatiously. The older men sit quietly, smoking, talking, drinking tea and appear to be more at ease with themselves. Still further is the dichotomy of the creaking communication system on the one hand and the fact that virtually everyone over the age of 20 possesses a mobile phone on the other. The Kenyan people, with the possible exception of the Masai, who consider themselves superior to all others, are fiercely loyal to their country and their tribe and yet all the males are fanatical supporters of English football teams and the crowds for live games, beamed to small ‘cinemas’, can be huge. Replica football shirts are in huge demand and, had I known this, I could have virtually paid my way round the country with the cheap versions available on European market stalls.
One other striking feature, especially given my observations in the USA, is just how crowded all the roadsides are with pedestrian traffic. Whereas people in the US think nothing of driving a few blocks, here they think nothing of walking a few kilometres, even when the sun is at its zenith. Quite often this will be womenfolk carrying vast loads of shopping/wood/produce on their heads. Men don’t do that, apparently.
I enjoyed my first ride in a tuk-tuk today. Initially the taxi I was going to take to the hotel where, supposedly, internet connection is better turned out to be a motor-bike. It was only a mile and was 80p instead of £1.60 but with all sorts of farewell advice – ‘stay safe’, ‘don’t do anything stupid’, ‘don’t take unnecessary risks’, etc..- ringing in my ears, I felt that the relative safety of the covered conveyance was preferable to a helmetless pillion-ride.
I also shopped for supper. The Watamu supermarket is not badly stocked and the vegetables and fruit are superb. There are some brand names I thought had long since disappeared. Blue Band spread, VIM bathroom cleaner, Tizer, Consulate cigarettes and Mazzola cooking oil. In the process it occurred to me that by degrees I am adopting a vegetarian diet. I did counterbalance that positive health move by buying a small jar of Nescafe, having not had a coffee for 3-4 days.
All in all I was beginning to see how all the ex-pats manage so well. Wonderful climate, lots of in-house service, items in the shops, albeit all at a price and for the wealthy only. Then at 9.00 the lights went out. Which meant the kettle wouldn’t boil for clean water, which means gungy teeth. Yes, a generator will cover this but what a pain. That and corruption and things taking for ever. I guess the grass is always a bit greener.

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