Text on Techs

A wet morning welcomed me as I drizzled my way into the car for the journey to the Elephant Orphanage. It is only open from 11:00am – 12:00pm EAT. Work was crazy busy for the past week, so I was happy to have some quiet time to visit another of the Kenya wonders – Elephants.

The David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust takes care of abandoned or wounded elephants. If I was not already choked to see such beautiful creatures up close, the stories got me. The giraffes were gorgeous and peaceful, but the Elephant Orphanage knows how to put on a show with storytelling and a call to action. I wanted to adopt one. We really have a responsibility to care take all the creatures, and, most of all, let them alone. The Orphanage website has amazing content about the fostering program, the milk they feed them and more. I like that they set them back into the wild in a park once the animals are of age.

Not my video, but at least it captures the elephant movements.

In one hour, we met two groups of Elephants of different ages. Plus, they told us much about their lives and the project:

I’ve posted all my unedited deck of photos on picassa (kenya or ke 1 – XX). I don’t have time to edit and label them right now, but if you are reading and want to get a sense of the life and the projects I am in Nairobi for, this is your window.

Heather

Deep-fried fish…the whole fish. Two coworkers gleefully took us on a journey to Nairobi fish heaven. Dale wrote about Mama Oliech awhile back. Nairobi streets are a bit of a maze for me still, but the flowers are pretty which makes for a colourful walk on a warm Friday afternoon. It is winter here, so warm is about 22C with a bright, high elevation sun. I am so doomed when I return to NA.

This meal was a bit of a production and worth it.

Step 1: wash hands

Step 2: regard the plates of fish (we basically ordered the same thing)

Step 3: Name your fish. My what scary eyes you have. While I normally name things, like scary spiders in my apt “Henry”..

Meet my coworker, Henry, and Sharon

And, Dale and April

Step 4: Devour. Yummy fish fry, almost as good as my Dad’s. You are not given utensils so it is all about the bread and fingers.

Step 5: Then, see how they are made. Discovery channel needs to visit.

Step 6: Double, Boil and trouble.Um, grease is the word, but yumm

Every country I visit, I have to hit a supermarket. I’m fascinated by the food, marketing and the fun stuff you find. It is an hour to kill as a tourist and worth it for the humourous questions.

Tropical heat appears to be the brand of choice. It is on juice (tropical carrot), chips and spices. My one North American coworker asked me to locate Tropical Heat Chai tea. After a meeting with Mozilla Kenyan Rep, Alex, I asked him to take me through his supermarket and pick out his favourite snacks and tea.

I’m taking Fanta orders now:

What nots. Um, “I will eat…what not”.

Free or mostly free entertainment for the curious.

h

On Sunday, I kidnapped Charl, my South African coworker, for some trains and then some.

First stop, the Lunatic line. Canada built the railway to populate the country. Kenya designated a country because of the railway.

I love the story of the official who decided to coax the lion into his carriage only to fall asleep. Anyway, we got to climb on steam engines and troll through the early century cars where dreams of romantic Kenyan adventures were baked in the sun.

After we got good and lost in our wanderings only to end up at the Muthurwa Market. Apparently, the number of people that we thought was many was 1/3 the actual street foot traffic of the neighbourhood. Our taxi driver told us that tourists don’t go to that hood. We were pleased. It was busy, but safe. The story of the market is actually fairly important to the city too.

Oh, earlier in the day at the Maasai market, situated close to a posh shopping mall, two men offered to pay me to touch my hair and one man gave me this in honour of it:

I bought a bracelet from Lou as thanks for this picture of her beadwork.

Giraffes. Of all the exotic creatures that traverse the lands of Africa, giraffes were top on my list. Beautiful graceful animals that seem to teach us a few things about calm demeanor, the swagger and patience. Yes, I hope to see more animals after the big work stuff is completed.

When I arrived at the Giraffe Center (such a tourist hub), The Giraffes were eating out of people’s hands. Then, they left just as I walked up the stairs. For 30 minutes, I wandered around the center and watched the giraffes way off in the distance.

Where are the Giraffes: (I expect my nieces and nephew to memorize this map.)

They took their sweet time, I mean, ate grass and napped.

With a pail-driven food racket, they returned.

Eyeballed:

After the giraffes, I tried to go to Kazuri beads to see the factory for my mom. They were closed. So, next week. Instead, I went to Karen Blizen’s estate. She was the author of Out of Africa. Many a female in my life swooned about Kenya and learned about the country’s colonial history via the Pollack movie. Apparently, the movie rubs off some of the true nature of the book and adds some “North American mainstream movie tone.” The grounds were beautiful.

Preparing for my trip to Kenya has been full of teaching moments.

I’ve read books on Africa for N00bs (I simply want to be respectful). This research has lead to surprising discoveries like Nigerian’s love of Don Williams (also a favourite artist of my Dad’s). Who knew about country music in Nigeria?

Fashion and Kenya
To be honest, this post about Vivenne Westwood in Kenya made me wince. I really felt like it was capitalizing on people’s lives. But, then I read deeper:

“The handbags in the lookbook are a part of Westwood’s Ethical Fashion Programme collection, where the iconic label has partnered with the International Trade Centre to provide jobs to over 7,000 women in the Kenyan capital, where they learn to create handmade, ethically produced bags for the London-based label. The project is intended to help provide people in one of the world’s poorest economies with actual skills they can use to maintain a living for themselves and their families.”

The number of people employed is respectable. Not that I could ever afford brand labels, or convince myself to actually wear them, but it made me stop for a minute. With a seamstress for a mother accompanied by hours in fabric shops, I have complete regard for the value of work and responsible clothing production. Innovation and the market place build new economies. My new employer is focused on creating software, but is part of a microcosm into a world of bright people creating with will and imagination.

One thing I have noticed is the shock that people have when I say I work for a tech company based in Nairobi, Kenya. And, the reaction I get from people (mostly strangers) warning me about the dangers of Africa. While I am sure danger is part of the story, I think this is indicative of the lack of awareness about how large the continent is: every city, country and village. Part of me thinks that I am a vehicle to share a different version of the story. I suppose it is like thinking that all of northern Saskatchewan (where I grew up) is full of redneck hicks. Well, yes, there are many fans of Jeff Foxworthy, but they are good people whom I call my family. These are also the first people who will give you a homemade blanket when your house burns down, then help you rebuild. People who are neighours help each other. I think that we need to start thinking about people around the world as neighbours we don’t know yet. For all the information in the world, the Internet and more, we still have so much to learn about each other.

Makers, doers
My Grandfather never bought a new tractor. He taught himself how to fix one and saved money to travel when he retired. On the same premise, my father who has invented gadget and kludges with whatever was laying around the yard or found in a discount bin. Much like Afrigadgets, just the northern Canadian version. We really are a consumer society in North America. It would do us well to think about why we need a special container for our water hose. My dad used a piece of wood and an old piece of metal to make me this:

We have so much, but does it make us happier? Instead of creating more waste: remake, remix or reuse. With talented parents who sew and build, I feel a bit lost in the maker realm. I don’t actually make anything physically valuable (besides good meals and a pretty garden), but I create connections and community. Maybe in my next act, I will be a maker.

Postcards
Call me old school, but I love postcards. I have a box of postcards from my Grandfather’s travels and a fridge covered with cards from friends. Postsecret is a long time favourite. Whenever I have the privilege to go anywhere, I send postcards to close friends and family. It bridges our imagination and gives an immediate connection to place and to people that a digital space might not. It makes far away places closer and takes people on the journey with you. My Grandfather wanted us to be engaged in our world. And, my mom, the biggest news junkie I know, simply wanted us to understand what part we play in learning about our world. On my fridge, I have a postcard from a coworker who traveled to Kenya long before I even imagined that I would be making this journey. Every day for 3 years I have looked at this postcard and thought: what is my place in the world? This love affair with postcards is not mine alone: The Lost art of Postcard Writing.