Nairobi

Tuesday was my second day in Nairobi, and I must say, this is one hell of a city. It is completely different from the West, and from what I am used to in Europe. Here, people walk along the highway and across the highway, carrying their stuff (many on the top of their heads) from who knows where to some strange places. Traffic varies - early morning and the afternoon are characterised by heavy traffic: cars, buses, matatus, motorbikes, bicycles, pedestrians, all mixed together in a colourful flourish. Interestingly, the Jaguar XJ's and the heavily beaten old Nissans can go side by side on the road here, and it all seems natural. There are no taxis - or at least organised taxi companies, maybe just a few. There are some private taxis, and of course they also speed like crazy - like anyone else - but they are way more agile than the usual driver. My driver yesterday, Mwangi, who brought me to the Hungarian Embassy from the Yomo Kenyatta airport aftern my arrival at 4am, offered me the driving seat, but I decided against it, in part due to my lack of experience in driving in such conditions, and also because they are driving on the left. And of course, Mwangi's beaten old Toyota did not make my confidence rise… Moreover, Andi Szegedi, vice-president of the Taita foundation, made me sign a paper where I declared not to drive while I am in Kenya. I’ll observe that unless some emergency makes me not to, and that’s a promise.

It is also possible to travel inside Nairobi in matatus or buses. However, I did not want to try this means of transport just yet. And anyhow, yesterday I was lucky enough to have the embassy Mercedes at my service (courtesy of our consul Edit Fekete), together with Paul, the driver, so getting by was not a problem.

Traffic lights are an absolute source of amusement. To my knowledge, they were installed just a few months ago, and nobody seems to care about them. Most of the lights also count down to green - the local administration have employed a quite sophisticated solution - but people just ignore them, during the day and at night, both in light and heavy traffic. It's going to take a serious cultural change to get them observed. I have seen some accidents too, but nothing too serious - the jam was rather small, it was a Matatu that turned over and a little farther two cars crashed into each other. No wonder the highest number of traffic accidents in the world is in Kenya.

Although many of you were worried about my safety, I must say, I do not feel worried at all here. I have also visited some commercial centres, despite my promises not to (sorry for that), and though the number of visitors was fewer according to Paul, life has moved on, and everything is the same as before. Westgate of course stays closed - they will probably demolish the building and erect something safer, as it has meant an ideal target for a terrorist attack since it was built five years ago. No wonder, being a centre for expats and rich Kenyans with a very vulnerable and accessible structure. The commercial centres I visited were OK, international brands such as Sony, Bata, Panasonic, etc. are all present, though I did not really enjoy seeing them. Because of its contrast to the poverty that rules here of course. What I liked though, was cooked corn with butter and lemon, and some salt, and those exotic veggies and fruits that abound around here. Even Paul did not recognise some of them. I have never before tasted popo, or papaya, but I have tried it today, and I have to realise, many locals smell of papaya.

As regards the terrorist attack, locals seem to believe that these kinds of things can happen anywhere - they have happened in Tanzania, US, UK... etc. They say, life's got to move on, and tragic things can always happen. Also, in the inner city, security is quite heavy - there are detector gates all over the place: at Safaricom, the commercial centre, restaurants, clubs - wherever you go (meaning, places of interest, where people with higher income might turn up), you will be checked and searched. Funnily enough, the checks are not so thorough. I was bringing my laptop in my bag and when the detector beeped the only question I received was: is there a laptop inside? I said yes and I was in. These checks are more a spectacle than anything else, but I hope they have their use.

On Tuesday, I have paid another visit to the VGE team at the Safaricom office. They are all fantastic guys, and really helpful and very supportive. Special thanks go to Sanjeev Baga, who helped me get a Safaricom SIM and register it too for my time of stay, and Ruby, who made the whole thing happen. Sanjeev also showed me around parts of Nairobi yesterday, and with his guidance I was able to get a quite authentic insight into how the city breathes during the evening and at night on a Monday.

I have also got to know this tiny Africa VGE team a little more - Linda, Mike, Kennedy, and the rest, in a team lunch. The topic of team building came up and it seems that they would like to go to the Masai Mara - an enviable place if it comes through, and one that I plan to visit too during my stay, especially if Gabor makes up his mind and decides to join me in Kenya for a some time. Otherwise it's go to be Tsavo, that's much closer to where I am now.

Special thanks to Mike too from the VGE team, for taking me to an accidental sight-seeing tour (wrong turn), and helping me find top-up cards for my local mobile (+254727019925, if you'd like to call or text), which interestingly are not on sale in the Safaricom Care Centre… and also for dropping me at the Hungarian Embassy. It was a huge help as the taxi drivers can get somewhat cheeky with their prices, even on small trips. But you always have to try to haggle - Tuesday morning was a disaster in this respect, as my 600 schilling trip ended up costing me 10 dollars - 400 schillings more, all because I ran out of local cash and had no idea of the exchange rate (I do now, 1USD = 85KSH).

In the shop too where I bought the cards, they attempted to rip me off, although in a somewhat smooth manner. When I already paid in cash, it turned out that it was possible to pay by credit card as well (my preferred option). Just as I was expecting, the shopkeeper almost kept the money I gave him after my payment with the credit card went through (how forgetful of him). Probably they prefer cash (untraceable), because once my card was in the terminal, they entered "SHOP" for my PIN, and told me that my credit card was not working. I showed them how to do this properly (seen it many times in my life, it is easy) - hopefully their next customer would get away easier. Probably not. You always have to be on the lookout, I have been told, and it is true.

However, as I have mentioned earlier, everyone is very friendly and helpful, strangers included. Naturally, the locals cannot always help - although they are supposed to speak both Swahili and English, the latter is not working that well all the time. Often, when I talk away to someone, they listen carefully, repeat some words I say and in the end it turns out that they did not get anything. Or, sometimes I ask them something, and the answer is some Swahili-English mixed bullshit - they do not ask back, just talk away, without any apparent meaning. I wonder about what, because it is impossible to understand. If this happens, the result is usually an embarrassed smile for both parties - you can also repeat the question, with a slower, more articulate tempo, and a simpler choice of words, and hope that you eventually get through. Usually it works, but communication gets somewhat slower overall.

I have had a new friend on Tuesday too, a guard called Robert Udula (Udula meaning storage or shed is Swahili). On Monday, while I was waiting for my ride (quite some time, as Sanjeev got lost a little, because the Hungarian Embassy is NOT on Kabarsirian Avenue, but on a side-street, as it turned out) I had a hearty chat with Robert. When we met today, he told me that he and the other guards got to like me a lot because of my openness and friendliness. Then he went on to ask for my phone number, so that he could show it to his family, as proof that he now has a foreign friend, and a European one at that. I did not hesitate either, but asked for his number, so that I can show it to you as proof of my Kenyan friend, when I am back:).

Wednesday morning saw my journey to Bura, Taita happen. 400 km's on bus, then another 100 on the Matatu. And this is a whole story in itself, so if connectivity allows, I'll make sure I post about it later. It was a crazy ride, that much I can tell.