We are currently [well, we were when I drafted this...now I'm at a ten-minute-a-go free Internet station] aboard Qatar Airways flight 533, as "economy class" flight to Doha (the capital) from Nairobi. Next [soon, now that we've passed nearly all of our twelve-hour layover] we connect to Istanbul, Turkey for a couple of days before going on to Bulgaria and Prague. Anyway, I think QA didn't get the "budget travel" memo, because the meal we just ate was a strong candidate for registration at that most exclusive of URLs: TheBomb.com. We're talking lamb and eggplant curry over rice with a lox-and-potato salad (strange, but G-rate) and a slice of tiramisu floating in a tangy passion-fruit jelly. Oh, and deese (decent) red wine. Damn, girl.
Of course, beyond the food, this has all the trappings of a low-cost flight: cramped seats, lame TV entertainment, and a guiltily silent guy sitting next to me who I suspect is the source of all the farts I've been inhaling. But it's still a sweet ride relative to recent travel options we've availed ourselves of.
When we staggered out of Kisui before dawn on Thursday, the plan was to take a ferry across a portion of the lake, a bus by paved road (what a luxury!) to Kisumu, and a train to Nairobi. The ferry leg unfolded nicely, but the matatu (which waited, engine running, while we filled up on a breakfast of mandazi and tea) was forced to drive in roadside ditches for about 45 minutes as we looked on enviously at the road as it was smoothed and manicured in anticipation of its imminent paving. I slept fine (and comically, apparently, my face squished against my backpack) until we hit the pavement and suffered no greater discomfort than mutinous kneecaps.
We arrived in Kisumu before noon, and Mina took charge directing the group and telling taxi touts to take a hike in her nearly fluent Swahili.
After some diversions and group strategizing, we arrived at the railway station and were told that the overnight train would not be running. Residents of the infamous Kibera slum (PC term is 'people's settlement') removed one kilometer of railroad track that passes through their area to protest a webbed variety of government policies. Much as we admired their activism, we were not pleased by the prospect of spending 1500 shillings more than we'd planned to take an overnight bus instead of what we hoped would be a restful, booze-washed train ride to Nairobi.Somewhat seasoned bus riders, Aud and I slept well on the bus eve as our fellows languished sleepless. At one point--you'd have to ask one of hte waking for details--we were held up for a time by a jackknifed diesel tanker. Apparently the people of the surrounding village materialized at 2 AM to collect the spilt fuel by the bucketful, soaking their clothes and soiling their water buckets to get a share of the valuable spoils.
Once we arrived in Nairobi we headed (after another round of mandazi and tea) to the Rudolf Steiner School in a suburb of Nairobi called Mbghati. From what I gather, Steiner is a dead but much venerated German Renaissance man from some time in the early 20th century who had a lot of ideas about a variety of subjects. His ideas about education and child development are the basis for Waldorf education (of which our YIP fellows are devotees). It seems that other ideas of his (the color blue stimulates creativity, right angles in architecture harbor dark spirits) have also been adopted as part of the package called anthroposophy. Long story short, staying at the (out of session) Steiner school was a low-cost, wonderful respite and a peaceful way to end our stay in Kenya. I'll leave it to Aud to describe our excursions from that sanctuary of Steinerist devotion...
-Kyle
Clarissa, Audrey, and Mina, all pretty at a bar on the eve of Aud and my departure for Turkey:
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