Settling in

After spending the first couple of nights in the Hilton Nairobi I moved into my apartment.

The Hilton wasn’t like any other Hilton I have stayed in. As you drive in your car is checked for explosive devices and as you enter the lobby you walk through a metal detector and your bags are scanned. Sleep tight after that!

The first night I decided to venture to the bar for a beer and something to eat. The bar seems to be inhabited by a number of Kenyan women sat at tables on their own wearing too much perfume and too few clothes. As I walked to the bar I seemed to prick their interest and a couple made eye contact and smiled coyly – either I’ve still got it or they are looking for a way out, don’t answer that one!

The apartment is a nice enough place in a decent area with gated security. The main drawback is there is no outside space unlike most of the complexes in the area that seem to have a pool and gardens, don’t worry I am already eyeing up a few alternatives. The first night I realised there was no need to set the alarm as the kind bloke from the local mosque wails out the call to prayer at 5am every morning, nice!

One of the first tasks was to go to the local supermarket, Nakumart. Now I was expecting something pretty grim to be honest having gone to live in New Zealand for a couple of years with high expectations and been greeted by Pak n Save, expectations of the Kenya equivalent were pretty low.

Much to my surprise the supermarket is in a very flash, modern shopping centre, has everything you could want and is far better than anything I saw in NZ (sorry Kiwi pals!). I was accompanied by Brian and Kyalo and as soon as we got there was not allowed to push the trolley – this was either because they felt they had to do this menial task or they are like my kids who always want to push the trolley and argue over it, I am hoping it was the latter but expect it was the former. I’m not particularly comfortable with the whole idea of having staff do stuff for you (I also have a maid) but here it is the way and if you don’t take on staff you are seen as not helping the local economy by providing work for those willing to do it. It still doesn’t sit all that well with me.

I only needed the basic survival rations, loo roll, cornflakes, beer etc. but had a good look around to familiarise myself with what I could get and what I need to put on my wish list to be sent over in emergency parcels from home!

On the way around Kyalo told me about his family who live around 50 miles away in a remote rural area. He gets to go back once a month to see his wife and children if he is lucky and sends just about everything he earns to support his extended family in their village. He earns next to nothing when you compare it to what I or any other expat will be earning, works any hours you ask and does any task you need doing, all with a smile and as though he is delighted you need him around.
After we have finished shopping I buy Kyalo and Brian a coke and an ice cream in a pathetic attempt to make myself feel better, they are chuffed to bits but it doesn’t work for me.

I loved the people I met in New Zealand and made friends with people who I hope will remain friends for life. They are open and direct and really good company. The people here in Kenya are just as open but have a real warmth to them and are incredibly friendly. Many of them lead bloody hard lives and you can understand why crime is high as so many people have so little, but the overwhelming feeling I have got since I’ve been here is they all seem pretty happy with their lot, it’s just the way it is for them and they get on with it and make the most of it.