BLOG
14, 21st Feb.
I've
been staying overnight with
NC, a Canadian lady
I met at the
Nairobi guest house; 'Come
and stay' she said,
so I did.
This
is what happens in
Africa; people drop in
on each other unannounced, or
at least they did
before mobile phones. People expect to
be able to stay
for the night, be
fed and have some
good conversation. I certainly
found when living in
bush schools that conversation was
one thing that was
missing in life … and
when visitors came,
it was impossible to
stop talking.
People dropped in on
us, complete with family,
when on their way
to the coast, say,
or Nairobi; we did
the same.
So when N asked
me to stay, I
knew it was OK. She and
her husband (who works
away for a month,
returns for a month)
have semi adopted 6
or 7 orphaned African
kids. The oldest
is now in his
early 20's, the youngest
is 4.
They haven't legally adopted
them; they obviously are well off enough to give them a
home and pay school
fees, and
what is more important, to love them.
Her
house is enormous, like
most European owned houses
in the area around
Eldoret, with a huge
shamba, full of
trees, flowering shrubs, exotic plants
and a large veg
and fruit garden. Servants, of course, but
they are part of
the family.
Since
the Kenya constitution changed
recently, wazungu are allowed to
be permanent residents and have Kenyan
or dual nationality, and
a lot of people
like MamaPat at the
Dunga orphanage, and NC and
several others I have
met passing through Mill
Hill House are doing
just that.
I'm tempted, I must
say, but I have
family and grandchildren in
the UK.
If I was just
me, I'd become a
Kenya citizen like a
shot. It would
certainly be cheaper to
live here than in
the UK.
After
my visit, Danny, the
oldest of NC's 'children'
took me into town
and found me a
matatu
coming back to Kisumu. In the
past I wouldn't have
dreamed of travelling in
one, for they had
a terrible reputation of
being over-loaded and dangerous, but
nowadays they take seven
passengers, and although fast,
are generally OK.
The police stop them
several times on the
way, to see how
many passengers they are carrying,
and check insurance and
so on.
I got back in
time for a late
lunch, and then went
into town to do
a bit of shopping. I'm hoping
Paul has the baskets
I asked him to
get for me, for
I've run out of
days. Tomorrow morning
its church for Ash
Wednesday; the afternoon its
the workshop for a
last look, and then
the day after I'm
on the bus to
Nairobi. Friday I
fly home.
No comments:
Post a Comment