Sunday 30 November 2014

Saturday in the City...


The journey into the city centre was an adventure all of its own. We decided to use motorbike taxis to avoid the worst of the traffic and it worked: potholed sidewalks; people; gaps between bumper-to-bumper cars, buses and trucks; the only motivation being to arrive at the destination with the least delay. About midway through the journey, the clutch cable of the bike I was on broke, but after a few minutes we were on our way with a replacement.

We dismounted on the outskirts of the CBD: a sprawling, bustling, pulsating mass of humanity and commerce, but first things first: where to have a smoke? The first option was the casino and at eleven in the morning we sat alone at a roulette table with an ice cold Tuskers.

We walked to the east city and for block after block the streets are lined with auto spares. Small kiosk style stores with an assortment of new and used spares for every conceivable make of vehicle. The Nairobi City Market is housed in a beautiful old building with a vaulted roof with stalls selling everything from flowers and fruit to crafts and impressive ebony sculptures.

The National Museum is alongside the botanical gardens and late on a Saturday afternoon the space was teeming with lovers, families, school groups and tourists. Unlike South Africa, Kenya has different entrance fees for locals and tourists and in all the exhibition halls young Kenyans were engaging with the national narrative.

It was late afternoon as we headed home in a taxi and still the traffic was crawling, but one quickly adjusts to the slow pace and seemingly random changing of lanes. Once again I was amazed by the endless rows of informal nurseries and the furniture manufacturers who lived and plied their trade along a particular stretch of road that extended for more than two kilometres with everything being made for the local market.


This is how it is supposed to be. 

Saturday 29 November 2014

Carrion...


I fell asleep and awoke to the twangy whine of Australian and American accents. We are staying at a campsite that caters to the overland truck market and during the course of the afternoon two tours arrived to dispel the tranquility with their foreign (in)-sensibilities.

There’s been another of their compatriots who has been encamped for a few days now. A seemingly quiet chap who had just climbed Mount Kenya and is resting up before setting off to conquer an even higher peak somewhere else in the country. Last night this dip-shit had a couple of drinks and in the company of his country-folk, he shared his opinion about the Arabs! This small-minded, middle-class bigot spewed his shit in a raised voice and the worst part was that none of his countrymen challenged his bigotry. I am not sure whether they are cowards or whether they agree, but it got me thinking about what someone like this would be thinking as he interacts with any of the locals…

I have a long-held belief that in general, most foreigners who can afford to travel are not the nicest of people. Out of touch and in denial. Convinced that they are doing every African a favour by spending their savings on a packaged holiday to the Dark Continent with the ill-conceived intention of confirming their National Geographic preconceptions.


In my opinion, it would have been easier if the streets were filled with wild animals who could feed off or maybe just trample this kind of roadkill.

Friday 28 November 2014

Adjusting the lenses...


The mornings have been tranquil and mild. Unlike the traffic. I have to remind myself that my usual preconceptions are no longer relevant: I have to keep in mind that this is not just another camp site somewhere in South Africa.

I spent a few hours yesterday taking stock of the mobile kitchen and today should see the inventory being completed. It seems as if the previous tour chefs had no idea of how to cook a decent meal with loads of MSG ‘spices’ and sauces and canned foods.

And while I am thinking menus and making tentative inquiries, Gary is doing repairs to the truck. We had to take a trip to check for parts and I was intrigued by the sight of extensive plant nurseries along the side of the road: and a fruit vendor on a bicycle selling slices of watermelon to students outside the university gates.

No one smokes on the streets and motorbike taxis stand in groups along the roads, while others weave precariously through the traffic, their passengers without helmets and quite unperturbed.


One thing is for certain. I am relieved that I am not required to drive.

Thursday 27 November 2014

Departures and arrivals...


We had a flight to Joburg at 6.20 and I was convinced that I was going to have an early night until some bud-heads stopped by. Drinks, dinner and the frenetic insanity of spontaneous creative interaction and I eventually got to bed at 1. The alarm was set for 4.15.

Fortunately the night wasn’t too rough and we made it to the airport in time. Just-just.

I hardly touched the inflight breakfast of powdered eggs and canned smoortjie with a dodgy little sausage, but the juice and the water were good companions.

The airport terminal in Johannesburg struck me as being lightless. Not dark, but bathed in an insipid unnatural yellowish glow.

We were airborne with just a few minutes delay. Castle beer, more airline food and a relatively short journey of just under 4000 kilometres as the SAA bird flies and we were in Nairobi and through customs. We had just retrieved our bags and were on our way out of the airport terminal when we were randomly stopped by three ladies in the employ of airport security. Passport and yellow fever card. Busted!

I was supposed to have had my shots ten days before travelling.
“Normally we send you back. I must take you to my boss. How much you got?”
2500 Shillings later I was in the taxi to Karen Camp.


So begins the odyssey… 

Thursday 20 November 2014

AFRIKA! Hie' ko' ek!

For anyone growing up on the Cape Flats in the seventies, the spatial connection with the African continent was at best limited to an outdated map in an outdated Atlas. Africa was seldom mentioned in the classroom and I don’t recall it being a significant part of any of the subjects. Personally, I regularly used to spend holidays in what was then South West Africa and with our own South Africa these two cardinal references were the extent of my African perspective, but fortunately since then my horizons have evolved through research and reading as well as working and interacting with refugees from across the continent. A combination of factors have however always prevented me from travelling more extensively in Africa, but finally an opportunity has presented itself and I will be heading off to Nairobi to begin my own African odyssey – a two-month journey to Cape Town by road of close to seven thousand kilometers.

Departure checklist: notebook, pencil, espresso pot, camera, sloffies, sunhat, passport and yellow fever certificate…  

Wednesday 19 November 2014

SAID IS DONE


Words are actions
Each one follows on
Leading from
And leading to
Giving substance
To these thoughts
Of me and you

Everyone a bridge
Straddling time
Jaded moments that could be
And the persistent possibility
That lies behind my eyes
Dispersed throughout a scene
Of an illusory memory

Stretching out before me
My footprints in places
Where I have never been
And behind me
A vaguely familiar
Windswept landscape
Constant and shifting