Vee L

I guess 540am on a flight to Zurich is as good of time as any to write my concluded thoughts about Kenya.

Kenya and I have a love hate relationship. Didn't like it coming in from Uganda - too many idiot boys or young men calling you out for being white and simply walking in their streets. It was almost like they wanted you to have a bad impression of their town. I always found myself wanting to explain the concept of tourism, and how their country profits a great deal from it, and by us consuming their goods, and staying in small scale guesthouses, we were promoting the "little people" of tourism... But no one had enough English or gave two shits about it. They had much more fun just making our experience that much less pleasant.

From then on, ups and downs. Like Kericho's tea tour - the man who booked it for us knowing it wouldn't happen sucked, but the driver and the guide were fantastic. Much like anywhere else in the world, some people really do care about helping you. Or like the "cultural" diner we had in Lamu was obviously a bust, yet his family was nice and inviting, trying to catch us up in the soap opera they were watching.

Nairobi, again, love hate. I had one of my worst anxiety moments here, simply because the sun was going down, and yet I never truly felt unsafe. The people in Nairobi were actually quite helpful, we managed to walk everything with the help of my phone's gps, it was a really good experience in a town where people warn you of its security risks and toughness.

The funny part of this next story, is the night before this incident, the very night before, Jack and I had a conversation on how we were impressed that everything has gone so smoothly up until now. Other then my t-shirt and sweater in Ethiopia, we hadn't been robbed, we hadn't been mugged, we hadn't been stopped by police and asked for a bribe (we met people along the way that did have to pay 2000ksh for not carrying their passports) ... Everything was going so well. And then Mombasa happened. Ah, Mombasa, how do I hate thee.

So we get there after taking a bus over from Watamu. The bus station is a little far from where we want to stay, so we hoped on a tuk-tuk. While stuck in traffic, in this tuk-tuk, I had my phone in my hands to follow with my GPS as to where we were going. Next thing I know, someone is tugging on my phone. I tugged back, there was that second of resistance, and then it's gone. My phone's gone. I had my bag straps still on, so I removed them as fast as I could and ran out of the tuk-tuk, and after these two boys running away from me. All I could think of yelling was "thief! thief!" since according to my readings, locals tend to take the law into their own hands when it comes to thieves. I chased them down maybe 200m yelling, and at this point there were another 10 guys also chasing them. And then, they ran into an alley. I stopped. Something told me following a gang of men into an alley, even if it was broad daylight, wouldn't be smart. Few seconds pass, Jack shows up behind me, says the tuk-tuk is waiting with our bags. Her being close by gave me the confidence to go into the alley. I find 5 or 6 men standing around a fence with various "weapons" in their hands. Apparently the boys jumped the fence and were gone. One man holding a rock, another a brick, and one most impressively a piece of cement about 4 feet long. I can only imagine what would have happened if they did manage to stop him. I thanked everyone, then spent a bit of time going around the fence, asking around who saw the boys running, knowing all too well that it as long gone.

To be honest, if it was just my phone, then so be it, no big deal. If it was money, no big deal. But this was my pictures. I have one week left to a 3 month trip, and I just lost all of my photos. I was so, so incredibly disappointed. Jack kept reminding me, I have her photos, I have the blog's photos, and whatever I put on facebook. But 3 months of photos! 3 months of my perspective on things, my views, what I found interesting enough to capture on a photo, gone. Needless to say, the rest of my day in Mombasa was a little difficult for me to enjoy. The whole event just kept replaying in my mind. What if I did follow him into the alley, would I have caught up? If I jumped the fence behind him, would others have helped me stop him? Is there a way I could have predicted this? Kept my phone out of reach from inside the tuk-tuk? So I'm writing this from my brand new, top quality, itel 1506. Who says 65$US can't buy you a topnotch phone?

My time in Mombasa was mostly spent in fear. Granted, losing the phone started the feeling, but Jack agreed that this was the roughest city yet. People just have that look in their eyes, a look you don't trust and know to keep walking. Having to come back to Mombasa for our night bus to Nairobi was tough. The bus left after dark, so I decided I would just sit at the bus ticket office until the bus left. I had no interest in being out in that city after dark.

I fear Mombasa tainted my impressions of Kenya as the roughest of the countries. I felt less safe here. People were just rougher with their approaches. Grabbing your arm when you walk by their stalls for you to have a look. Physically imposing themselves for you to feel intimidated. Just yesterday while shopping, I wanted to buy a shirt, started negotiating, saw that it wasn't going where I wanted it to go so I wanted to leave. The man put himself between me and the exit and literally blocked my way out. Another grabbed my arm to "lead" (more like force) me into his shop. The touching gets a little much.

I guess that was quite the rant about security. But, when all is said and done, we're safe, and to see the reaction of the locals at a thief was proof that the thieves are still the minority, and it isn't something that is accepted by others. On to other thoughts!

The West of Kenya and the coast were incredibly different worlds! The west was was mostly black Africans, Christian mostly, the towns were quite uniform. Whereas the coast was mostly Muslim, many more olive skinned population, the diversity was much more obvious, with some women wearing the bui-bui (full dress like cloak), some just the hijab, some hiding their faces, others none of the above. Many of the men were wearing the kofir (round hat, traditionally Muslim, brought in by Iraqi traders). The Swahili coast had beautiful carved entrance and small alleyways for streets.

Many of the towns along the way were relatively big towns, so Nairobi didn't seem as intimidating as Kampala did in Uganda. Every town we'd arrive in was bigger then what we imagined. Just when I thought we were heading to a small town, I was surprised. For someone who likes small towns, this was slightly annoying.

Food was close to Uganda, except for Rolex. Plenty of chapati, they just don't roll it with eggs. Breakfast around here is mostly just tea and andazi (fried triangular piece of bread) for the locals. That wouldn't hold a couple of Canadian girls who like their breakfast, so it often took persistence to find somewhere that sold beans and rice. Many of the towns along the way had at least one, if not a few westerner restaurants, so if ever we missed western food, it was never out of reach. The coast is actually popular with Italians, so plenty of wood oven pizzas and homemade gelato!

Much like Uganda, activities here aren't geared to independent travellers. We were staying at base of mountains and there were no tourist agencies around to help organize a hike. We were in a town right next to the Masai Mara and yet again, no one to help us go. Everything had to be booked and organised from Nairobi. Since we came in from the west, we literally had to pass these things, only to come back to them with a driver from Nairobi.

The Masai though! And Hell's Gate! Those two safari days, though very different, were absolutely amazing. Cycling so close to these incredible animals is something I'll never forget. And then seeing so many lions, and the incredible landscapes in the Masai... Now I understand why everyone said to keep the safari money for Kenya. Their wildlife is gorgeous.

Another thing Kenya has going for itself, is public parks. Most big cities have them, they're relatively well maintained, and locals actually use them. Grabbing a drink, a tea, and sitting in the grass, people watching, was just great. After a day of walking around to explore towns, it's the perfect way to relax and kick up your feet while still being amongst locals.

As far as budgeting goes, a quick calculation says we spent roughly 49$US per day. Turns out, Uganda was more expensive! We thought Kenya would be terrible because of all the safaris, the boat trips, and we even took a flight along the coast... But day to day life was cheaper. And since we were in Kenya for 26 days, the big expenses get spread over more cheap days.

That seems to sum it up. Kenya was really good in some parts, and intimidating in others. Still, an experience I would never have wanted to miss!Read more