WATAMU Nov 6^th

The flight from Nairobi, on Air 540, was fine save that the plane held 30 passengers at full capacity and was, therefore, shunted around a bit more by the inevitable turbulence. Any comparison with security in the USA or Britain is impossible and hilarious. I went through a door, straight from the pavement, at Nairobi Airport which said departures. A bloke took a cursory look at a print-out of my flight details. There was one scanning machine. I had forgotten to take my computer through separately but it didn’t seem to matter. Malindi Airport was something else. Bags dropped by hand at the door from the tarmac. Nicky Parazzi waiting right by the door to fetch me.  I suppose it was only an internal flight.

We did a couple of things in Malindi before the short drive north to Watamu. Nicky knows everyone, it seems, and has an ease and familiarity with Swahili and the African that I think is unusual. She talked non-stop, which she always has. I am still trying to get my head around the exact function of the Turtle Watch because Nicky’s explanations tend to go the roundabout route. Essentially it is coastal conservation in the widest sense with the turtles as the flagship. I do not think those on site at the Turtle Watch will develop much of a programme for me until Monday. Ideally I would like to accompany anyone who is doing fieldwork with a view to assessing its suitability for a small group of Wellington students. I suspect that much of the work on the impact of agriculture, tourism and climate change on the coastal environment and, especially, water quality, will bear fruit in a longer term than the week any students would have available. So I am going to try to assess the feasibility of a study based more on short term variables in the local ecosystem with a bit of practical/factual assimilation thrown in.

One thing I do appreciate, which I take for granted at home, is ease of travel. I am trying to sort out how to get from Nairobi to Gilgil ( location of Pembroke House prep school ) and back over the weekend of Nov 19-21. There is no train or bus. I am certainly not going to risk a drive, having been taken round the edge of the city at 9.00 this morning and seen matutu buses and taxis in full competition. There is not a flight, as it is only 100 miles. It is a conundrum and I may have to use the services of a driver.

I’m taking it all in at the moment. Much of it looks chaotic but it sort of works, even if it does so at its own leisurely pace. I’m about to switch off the light and will fall asleep to the sound of cicadas and distant dogs, the sweetish smell of warm dust and safe in the knowledge that the two geckos on the wall will deal with any mosquitoes.

WATAMU Nov 7^th

I was minding my own business in the Turtle Watch compound, where not very much happens at the weekend, when one of the staff dropped by to ask if I would like to assist in releasing a turtle. A fisherman had brought one in earlier in the morning. The watch will pay a fisherman for the turtle so that they are neither killed on capture nor chucked back into the sea when there is obvious damage to them. This was a huge male and it occupied much of the back of the jeep in which it was transported the short distance to the beach. It took four of us, one at each corner of a harness, to carry it across the beach to the sea. They are proper animals and this one was clearly keen to be returned to its natural environment, given the amount of flapping and flipper-waving that went on as we got closer to the waterline.

Nicks came round, just after I got back. She told me to get ready to go out to lunch with some friends and that I would need a hat and swimming things. I think this would be the first occasion I have travelled to a social event by boat. The venue was about 3km as the crow flies from where Giovanni’s boat is moored ( Giovanni is Nicky’s husband ). It was on the other side of the creek, however, and so it was 45 minutes plus by road. We waded out to the boat, went slowly across quite a shallow reef and moored just off a deserted beach. At the top of the sand dune, a very pleasant couple, Andrew and Errie, have built a beach house. It comprises a roof, an open plan sitting and dining area, no walls and a ladder up to the only bedroom. The view, over lunch, was the Indian Ocean. Andrew is in the business of broking and/or selling boats. His business has expanded significantly on the inland lakes ( Victoria, Tangyanika, Malawi etc..). This is because the trade in small boats on the coast north of Mombasa has almost ceased, thanks to the activities of the Somali pirates. It was a most sociable occasion and Giovanni drove us home in about 5 minutes, so we got quite wet.

I got back to my room at the Turtle Watch to discover that there was a power cut. It didn’t matter that much as there was nothing I particularly needed to do. I did spend half an hour with my fellow volunteers. Amy is from Maine, knows a vast amount about turtles, is about 25, I would guess, and has decided that she is not for settling down just yet. Will is from Sydney and is here with Beatrice, ex-Heathfield. They met when she did a year as a Nottingham University student at the NSW University. I didn’t know such options were possible. They are taking a joint post univ. Gap Year and have come here via some time teaching in a school on the Tanzanian border, some time in the game parks and some time visiting relatives. Beatrice reminds me much of Sarah at that stage and is about as well-versed in the whole idea of travel. They were all very nice to me and duly indulgent of my more antiquated views.

It has, in short, been a truly brilliant day on which I have seen and done things that are totally new to me and on which I have experienced the need to go with Africa’s own unique flow.

WATAMU Nov 10^th

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.

WATAMU Nov 9^th

I woke up a little earlier this morning to the sound of rain hammering on the corrugated iron roof. I stood out in it for a few seconds. Like so much else in this part of the world, it is completely different from British rain. The droplets are bigger and heavier. They fall more persistently and cover a wider area. They are warmer, too. In fact, had it not been for the fact that I am living close to two girls, I would probably have substituted five minutes outside for my morning shower. I was a little disconcerted, on my return to my room, to discover a huge centipede comfortably curled up just under my pillow. It had, presumably, shared much of the night with me. My historical list of bedfellows is nothing like as long as most ( off the top my head I can think of children, Phyllida, new cricket bats, coat-hangers and, comically, John Knight – un grand lit etc.. ) but this is the first genuine creepy-crawly I have seen since I got here. I was glad I didn’t know until afterwards that they pack quite a powerful punch in the form of a sting.

I didn’t write anything yesterday because the day just got away a little. I went to the business meeting of the Watamu Turtle Watch ( WTW ) in the morning. Scheduled for 10.00 it started at 10.35. It was meant to finish at midday but went on until 12.50. I went to Nicky’s for lunch, so that someone else could have lunch at the centre. A visit to the supermarket and a release of a turtle later and it was 6.00. Will and I then cooked supper for the 6 volunteers and by the time we’d finished and tidied and it was time for a book, it was 9.00. Not a day of great achievement but one that had just the right amount of hours in it. I am becoming more convinced it is the norm out here.

I am much enjoying Beatrice and Will’s company. They are on the sort of backpacking trip with a purpose that seems to sum up what is good about young people and the opportunity to travel. They have done a month teaching EFL in a school, have helped as volunteers in the Masai Mara, are doing this for 5 weeks and then going for 2 weeks to Uganda for a holiday. There is an easy inclusivity about them and they have about 300 times more street wisdom than I do. We have been joined by Johnno, a slightly brash student from the University of Syracuse in upper New York State, and George, whose 22 hour journey from the Kampala environs ended with his arrival at 6.00 last night. Apart from the fact he is British, I am not that much the wiser.

I have one genuine job to do, which is to help to revamp some of the on-site information into a more coherent single message. Left to my own devices it would probably take me 3-4 hours but, involving as it does two of the local staff, it will take 3-4 days by the time we have met enjoyed chai ( tea ) and discussed the minutiae.

I am beginning to form some sort of idea as to how/if this could be something that might make part of a trip for a small group of students. It would not be a cheap venture but to combine 5 days here with some time in Tsavo and some voluntary work amongst local schoolchildren would add up to a fantastic 2-3 weeks. Even better is the opportunity it offers for gappies and best of all, in my view, is what it could do for post-grad gap years and/or anyone taking time out from work. Like a 53 year-old teacher with a wife and three teenage children.

WATAMU Nov 7^th

I was minding my own business in the Turtle Watch compound, where not very much happens at the weekend, when one of the staff dropped by to ask if I would like to assist in releasing a turtle. A fisherman had brought one in earlier in the morning. The watch will pay a fisherman for the turtle so that they are neither killed on capture nor chucked back into the sea when there is obvious damage to them. This was a huge male and it occupied much of the back of the jeep in which it was transported the short distance to the beach. It took four of us, one at each corner of a harness, to carry it across the beach to the sea. They are proper animals and this one was clearly keen to be returned to its natural environment, given the amount of flapping and flipper-waving that went on as we got closer to the waterline.

Nicks came round, just after I got back. She told me to get ready to go out to lunch with some friends and that I would need a hat and swimming things. I think this would be the first occasion I have travelled to a social event by boat. The venue was about 3km as the crow flies from where Giovanni’s boat is moored ( Giovanni is Nicky’s husband ). It was on the other side of the creek, however, and so it was 45 minutes plus by road. We waded out to the boat, went slowly across quite a shallow reef and moored just off a deserted beach. At the top of the sand dune, a very pleasant couple, Andrew and Errie, have built a beach house. It comprises a roof, an open plan sitting and dining area, no walls and a ladder up to the only bedroom. The view, over lunch, was the Indian Ocean. Andrew is in the business of broking and/or selling boats. His business has expanded significantly on the inland lakes ( Victoria, Tangyanika, Malawi etc..). This is because the trade in small boats on the coast north of Mombasa has almost ceased, thanks to the activities of the Somali pirates. It was a most sociable occasion and Giovanni drove us home in about 5 minutes, so we got quite wet.

I got back to my room at the Turtle Watch to discover that there was a power cut. It didn’t matter that much as there was nothing I particularly needed to do. I did spend half an hour with my fellow volunteers. Amy is from Maine, knows a vast amount about turtles, is about 25, I would guess, and has decided that she is not for settling down just yet. Will is from Sydney and is here with Beatrice, ex-Heathfield. They met when she did a year as a Nottingham University student at the NSW University. I didn’t know such options were possible. They are taking a joint post univ. Gap Year and have come here via some time teaching in a school on the Tanzanian border, some time in the game parks and some time visiting relatives. Beatrice reminds me much of Sarah at that stage and is about as well-versed in the whole idea of travel. They were all very nice to me and duly indulgent of my more antiquated views.

It has, in short, been a truly brilliant day on which I have seen and done things that are totally new to me and on which I have experienced the need to go with Africa’s own unique flow.

WATAMU Nov 6^th

The flight from Nairobi, on Air 540, was fine save that the plane held 30 passengers at full capacity and was, therefore, shunted around a bit more by the inevitable turbulence. Any comparison with security in the USA or Britain is impossible and hilarious. I went through a door, straight from the pavement, at Nairobi Airport which said departures. A bloke took a cursory look at a print-out of my flight details. There was one scanning machine. I had forgotten to take my computer through separately but it didn’t seem to matter. Malindi Airport was something else. Bags dropped by hand at the door from the tarmac. Nicky Parazzi waiting right by the door to fetch me.  I suppose it was only an internal flight.

We did a couple of things in Malindi before the short drive north to Watamu. Nicky knows everyone, it seems, and has an ease and familiarity with Swahili and the African that I think is unusual. She talked non-stop, which she always has. I am still trying to get my head around the exact function of the Turtle Watch because Nicky’s explanations tend to go the roundabout route. Essentially it is coastal conservation in the widest sense with the turtles as the flagship. I do not think those on site at the Turtle Watch will develop much of a programme for me until Monday. Ideally I would like to accompany anyone who is doing fieldwork with a view to assessing its suitability for a small group of Wellington students. I suspect that much of the work on the impact of agriculture, tourism and climate change on the coastal environment and, especially, water quality, will bear fruit in a longer term than the week any students would have available. So I am going to try to assess the feasibility of a study based more on short term variables in the local ecosystem with a bit of practical/factual assimilation thrown in.

One thing I do appreciate, which I take for granted at home, is ease of travel. I am trying to sort out how to get from Nairobi to Gilgil ( location of Pembroke House prep school ) and back over the weekend of Nov 19-21. There is no train or bus. I am certainly not going to risk a drive, having been taken round the edge of the city at 9.00 this morning and seen matutu buses and taxis in full competition. There is not a flight, as it is only 100 miles. It is a conundrum and I may have to use the services of a driver.

I’m taking it all in at the moment. Much of it looks chaotic but it sort of works, even if it does so at its own leisurely pace. I’m about to switch off the light and will fall asleep to the sound of cicadas and distant dogs, the sweetish smell of warm dust and safe in the knowledge that the two geckos on the wall will deal with any mosquitoes.

Nairobi 5/11/10

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single traveller in possession of a weary body is always located in the vicinity of a small child. The one on the plane was either wailing or repeating ‘ba’ ad infinitum when contented. Her owner was an elderly Asian. Either he has done brilliantly with a much younger wife or is the grandfather. Either way he did not seem to crack much of a disciplinary whip. The upshot is that I am tired but it is the sort of tiredness I will probably get over very rapidly.

 

I am staying with Joss Taylor, who assures me he left Wellington in 1982. He looks about 35, probably still sets female pulses racing when he enters a bar ( which he does quite often, I think, as it is the entertainment lined up for tonight ) and has the most mellifluous of voices. His driver picked me up from the airport and his maid has ironed my outfit for the day and prepared a light lunch. When in Rome.

Joss was brought up here, returned to England to school followed by Sandhurst, got married and then was asked to come out to organise a sugar trading business 15 years ago. He is a mine of information about the country and its various dos and don'ts. Mrs Taylor is currently at a horse trial event somewhere in the Rift Valley They have two girls, the elder of whom is hoping to come to Wellington next year but may not make it on academic grounds, which is agonising. The kids are at The Banda School and Joss kindly organised 45 minutes with the Head at pick-up time yesterday. It strikes me that it is much like any British prep school but has probably a slightly greater resistance to change.

There are, inevitably, lots of things that strike the visitor to Nairobi. I am delighted not to have to do any driving. I am amazed by the variety of uses of the roadside. There is much more road traffic than there was in 1993. It smells African. The colours are East African. The jacarandas are in full blue bloom. There are dogs everywhere. It is very different in lots of ways but, under grey skies, in lowish temperatures and looking out of the window to the back garden at schloss Taylor, it could easily be Surrey in June.