Nairobi

Tuesday, 4^th January

I had forgotten how chilly it is at night and when you get up in the morning here, in these unheated, thick walled, high ceilinged houses!

We found our way to Helen and Tim’s house from the airport after an hour or so of not finding the driver they sent to meet us.  Eventually we managed to fend for ourselves and get alternative transportation and, with the help of a bored hotel agent who lent his phone, so that we could call Helen to find out where to go, we found our way to their house in the suburb of Karen, named for Karen Blixen of ‘Out of Africa’ fame.  The narrow road to their home has no name and the house, one of several in one compound, no number.  The house is, as they had told us, a rambling 3 storey, thick walled whitewashed house with sturdy bars at the windows, heavy wooden doors and highly polished parquet floors, scattered about with rugs of Persian design.  It is set in a clearing of red earth and grass in the jungle of tall flowering trees, covered with creepers and orchids.

We breakfasted on the verandah enjoying the African birdsong of at least 15 species in the garden including ibis, weaver birds, sun birds and fly catchers, the sound of the horses in the stables being lead out for their morning exercise, watching brightly coloured blue and yellow weaver birds flitting amongst the trees and flowers and talking to one year old Luli as she mixed play dough with fruit loops and 7 year old Finley about what he got for Christmas and the birds and flowers and his vegetable garden.  He also introduced us to various pets as they wandered by.  Sitting here in the shade of the deep veranda, memories of another more leisurely way of living than the one we lead now are reawakening and I relax as the stress of travel and hustle and bustle slide from me.

Luli and Finley

In a while the driver, Joseph, who explained amidst profuse apologies to me earlier that yesterday he had a day that got away from him, will come and take us to find a bank machine and a new ‘sim’ card for my UK cell phone so that I can use it here.  Apparently there are no longer many land lines in Kenya and every man woman and child carries a cell phone, including Masai warriors living in their Bomas in the bush.  Then we’ll go for lunch and revisit old haunts and take a drive past the houses where we once lived.

I don’t think there’ll be too many opportunities to go on line and update this blog.  Tim and Helen don’t have an internet connection in their home and there is no wi-fi in the neighbourhood.

Later

We’ve been here now for one day and I feel homesick for this life, despite our trip into ‘town’ turning out to be a nightmare traffic jam and the urban landscape barely recognisable as the city we left 27 years ago.  We are now equipped with a local cell phone – essential, since no-one seems to own a land line any more.  We used it to connect with Hazel, the grand daughter of our old Aya, Malita, who came from her shamba in western Kenya last Saturday to wait for our arrival.  I’m so excited.  We’ll send the driver, Joseph, to pick them up from wherever they live in this city of 5 million and bring them here to visit with us tomorrow.  And I will cook lunch for my ex-servants, who were once as trusted as family, but lived in a hovel in the back yard and never ate with us.

We had lunch in the Fairview Hotel, where once we, as well as most everyone we ever knew who came to live and work in Kenya or Tanzania, used to stay when in Nairobi on business or for shopping, or on first arrival while waiting to move into a house.  It used to be a plain ‘family’ hotel with no frills, family suites and ‘children’s’ supper.  Nowadays, after a face lift and serious upgrading, it is now a conference centre and competitor for the Norfolk, the Serena; the Intercontinental or the Hilton.

Fairview Hotel

One house we used to live in, though still recognizable, has been extended and now belongs to a company.  The trees Helmut planted when we lived there are now 40 feet high; the bamboo fence has been replaced by a wall topped by razor wire; the gates solid steel.  The other place we called home has gone altogether and the whole neighbourhood replaced by what looks like low income housing.

Mucai Drive house

Our hosts, the Carson Family:

Helen & Luli

Helen and Luli

Helen, Tim, Finley & Luli

Finley

Finley and Tim