We've been in Kilifi, on the Kenya coast, since last Saturday afternoon. Sitting on our balcony overlooking the ocean, the wind rattling the coconut fronds, the turmoil in other parts of the country seems unreal. In the central coast, it's life as usual...except for the scarcity of /wazungu/, the white tourists.
John and I are ending our weeks in Kenya with a short vacation, staying at the Mnarani Club, a lovely resort which we discovered last year. It's an indulgence, for sure. We are 2 of only 6 guests staying in 3 of the 100 available rooms. On our arrival, the staff greeted us with "Thank god you are here!"... because now they have something to do...taking care of us during the day and evening, and even more important, while we're here, they still have jobs. With a ratio of probably 6 staff to 1 guest, the service has been great. Three waiters attend to each of the 3 couples, serving the different courses and hovering to whisk away plates as soon as they are empty. They watch our every move, and several times I've turned to look over my shoulder only to have a waiter appear immediately asking what I'd like. They say "we are here to do whatever you wish. Just ask." Another drink, more ice, two desserts...
The undivided attention has given us an opportunity to get to know these gracious and lovely people...Charles and Dima, Victor and Hamisi, Richard and Justus, Samira and Pata, Harry and Patrick. They have delighted in our attempts to increase our minimal Kiswahili, and each of them seems to want to help us learn as much of the language as possible while we are here. Even John, who is admittedly "foreign language challenged" has learned an amazing number of words. The other night, one of the waiters asked him if he spoke Swahili! The waiters now know that we like red wine with dinner, where we like to sit, and that we like coffee with dessert. Bettina the resident cat sits by our table at each meal.
Two (or more) staff clean our room each morning, and we are beginning to know the pool attendants, the gardeners, the water sports people, the resort managers, the people in reception, Nanette, the Food and Beverage Manager and the bar tenders.
There are also three "animators", the people who organize the daily activities. In spite of the absence of guests, the animators continue to change the list of activities for each day. While we've been here, we could have had our hair braided, played poker, taken swimming lessons in the pool, played squash, gone for a hike, danced at the disco on Saturday night, gone scuba diving, played bingo, played mini-golf, and had sailing lessons.When we sit by the pool, the animators are worried that we will be bored and that they will be perceived as not doing their jobs to keep us entertained. We assure them that we like to relax, we came here to relax and that we are very happy. Nevertheless, they periodically ask if we want to go for a walk, go to the village, go to Malindi, go to Mombasa, take a bike ride or learn Swahili.
We did do an "excursion" with Samira, a darling young woman who began her animator job in December. She took us across the highway and through Mnarani Village to a ruin on the cliff overlooking the ocean. Called the Great Mosque, it's a beautiful but decaying structure surrounded by huge baobab trees, built out of coral by the Arabs in the 1600s. We've also taken several walks on the lovely beach, and this morning headed up the "creek" in a double kayak for a couple of hours. The "creek" is really a big river which empties into the Indian Ocean. Kilifi is on the north side of the creek, just where it meets the ocean. The Mnarani Club, our hotel, is on the south side, just across the creek from Kilifi town, on a cliff overlooking the creek and the ocean. The highest bridge in Kenya connects the two sides of the creek.
Yesterday afternoon, we rode across the bridge to Kilifi town in a tuktuk, a small 3 wheeled vehicle with one seat in front for the driver and 2 (or 3 if you want to squeeze) in the back. It's called a "tuktuk" because of the noise it makes as it chugs along. Our errands completed, Jacob, the tuktuk driver took us out along the ocean front for a look at the white sand beach and huge mansions (mostly Italian owned). The coast is spectacular. We tuktuk-ed along to the public beach where we were the only people there to enjoy the gorgeous view and incredibly warm water.
Earlier in the afternoon, we met with our friend Samson Mwamachi, who works with the Kilfi Development Commission, a government organization that funds community development projects. Last year, he took us up in to the "hinterlands" to visit several of the communities with which he is working. The KDC's major partner for the last year has been Oxfam. In September, Samson started a Master's program in Community Development at the University of Nairobi branch in Mombasa, so 4 days a week, he takes a matatu (minibus taxi)for the 1 hour and 15 minute ride to Mombasa after work to attend class, returning home later in the evening. He also attends class on Saturdays. He says that because this is a new course, they don't have books yet, and there are none in the library for the course. The instructor wants them to use the internet as much as possible. But Samson doesn't have a computer, so he has to try to gain access after work hours to the one computer at work used by all of the employees. Nevertheless, he's excited about his program and enjoying the learning he's acquiring. He only hopes, that as an older man, (he has 6 children all in school) he's not competing with younger people for valuable resources.
This morning, as the sky grows light behind the coconut palms, roosters crow from a nearby shamba and the muezzin at the mosque in Kilifi town calls people to prayer. Fishermen sail their dhows out to the open ocean and others paddle heavy, dugout canoes from which they will throw nets. The voices that echo across the water are not fearful. It feels good to be here.
But it's not so great when we read the paper that we can't help buying in the morning. We decided not to read the paper while we're here, but so far, we've only missed one morning. After reading the reports on the latest violence and the details of the negotiations from the previous day, what's left in the two papers, the Daily Nation and the East African Standard are pages and pages of speculation and opinion. Everyone has a different idea about what the problem is and how to solve it. One article even blamed parents for the conflict, saying that if they'd done a better job with their children, these young people, these "youth" who are responsible for so much of the death and destruction, the country would not be in this situation. Some of the editorials are good, but overall, the papers reflect a nation at a loss to understand what's gone wrong.
The papers are misleading sometimes, too. Today's headline in the Daily Nation, in HUGE type..."Post-poll Violence: U.S Threatens to Intervene. John and I groaned when we read that, envisioning an invasion of U.S. tanks and soldiers rolling into Nairobi. We immediately felt targets on our backs. But, on reading the article, we realized that an attack by the U.S is /not/ imminent, in spite of the headline. The news was that Jendayi Frazier, the U.S top diplomat for Africa said she planned to consult African Union leaders meeting this week in Addis Ababa about the way forward, and /warned/ (these days everybody is giving a warning about something) that a solution from outside the country could be imposed on Kenya if it does not solve its own problems. Her /warning/ was echoed by Condoleeza Rice.
There was so much hope when Kofi Annan arrived and during the first days of his visit. Now, that hope is mixed with frustration at the continued violence and concern that the talks could drag on indefinitely while the two "bulls" continue with their struggle for personal power at the expense of the Kenyan people. One letter to the editor today described the two men as "acting like big babies." Many now don't really care who ends up as President...they just want to get back to their lives. Some say both men should step down and let someone else have the job. But no matter who is speaking, they always end their comments with some version of "but we know that peace will come and we pray to god to help".
It really is heartbreaking, and John and I have shed our own tears on several occasions. When we were in Molo with some of the women whose tree seedling and mushroom projects, homes and stores of food, had been burned and utterly destroyed, Samuel asked us if we'd say a few words to them. The women were so devastated, so sad, and when John started speaking about how he would have felt if someone had destroyed his farm, his voice broke and it took some time before he could continue. His grief triggered mine, and.all the emotions we'd felt but not yet released were impossible to hold back. The senseless violence and destruction breaks our hearts, especially when it affects people we know and care about.
And here on the coast, where there is no violence, there are also no tourists, no income, closed hotels, staff worried about their jobs, the people in Kilifi town who depend on the tourists for income concerned about what will happen to them and their families...but the people remain optimistic, trusting in God that peace will come and that all will be well. They want to reassure us that "it's never been like this in Kenya." "We don't understand why this is happening." And "we hope this doesn't change your opinion of our country."
Yesterday, on our walk down the beach, we were "escorted" by three young men, Hussein, Shebani and Juma. They invited us to come to a football game in Mnarani Village on Sunday. We leave here on Saturday so had to decline. Today on our walk, they met us again and said that they'd arranged a special game for tomorrow afternoon at 4:30 and would we please come. The members of the team, called the Rovers, are the young boys in the village who, if not occupied, might give in to pressure to use cocaine, which apparently is rampant here. These three young men have organized the team, which sometimes travels to Mombasa and Malindi to play other teams. For tomorrow, they've split the team into two teams that will play against each other in a special demonstration game for the visitors (us). And by the way, could we please support the team by purchasing a soda for each of the 22 boys at 22 cents per soda? No problem.
The muezzin is calling from the mosque...for us, it means it's time for dinner.
Next update...what we've been doing since January 6th..our work in the villages, none of which have experienced any of the violence or destruction.
Thanks to all of you who continue to write!
Gwen and John
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