February 26th, 6:10PM at Nairobi, Kenya
Travis and I never did go on a sightseeing tour in London. Not being able to get any sleep on the plane and arriving at a midmorning local time left us a bit tired. Plus there was all that extra carry-on luggage that we were both carrying. So ultimately we just sacked out in the terminal. I struck up a conversation with the ticket agent at the British Airways desk in London yesterday. When she was looking at my passport she noticed I was from northeast Pennsylvania, and she very cheerfully told me about her brother lived in Tunkhannock. When she handed back my boarding pass I found that she had upgraded me to first-class! And first-class on a 747 means that you get to sit on the upper deck!
The service was very nice, the food excellent, and the seat was very close to a lazy boy recliner in size and comfort. The first in-flight movie "Cool Runnings" -- a sort of comedy/truestory about the Jamaican bobsled team in the 1992 Olympics. I settled down for the 11 hour flight enjoying what would likely be my last luxury for the next few months while I thought of Travis back in the coach section, and went to sleep with a smile on my face.
During the landing at Jomo Kenyatta Airport, I realized I had forgotten how unsettling the runway really is. As our enormous jet got closer and closer to the ground, you can see the how badly the tarmack is maintained and watch the large cracks in the pavement and runway weeds as they wip by at 300 miles an hour. Quick prayer for safe landing. Make that several quick prayers for safe landing...
Now, out into the un-air conditioned terminal. And through customs. All told I am bringing about 110 pounds of luggage in 2 bags. My checked bag is just my Field backpack inside a 5 foot long green army surplus duffle bag. Fortunately the customs officers didn't ask me to unpack anything because it would have been quite the scene opening all those pockets. It's always a bit startling to see the security here at th airport compared to what you see back home. There seem to be just as many police officers as at home, but here they are wearing combat fatigues, carrying semi-automatic rifles at the ready, with lazy, realxed leans against the walls and surly expressions on the faces. No, not friendly AT ALL. Then we walk around the corner and are confronted by a mob of Taxi drivers all shouting and reaching to grab our bags (and thus our business). "Bwana, come with me -- do not listen to these other vultures!" Thank heavens we didn't have to wait, as Scott was already here and we piled our luggage onto our 1974 Land Rover Mk III. During the dawn ride into the city we just sat quietly looking at the landscape as it passes by. Something about the multicolored blue and pink sky silhouetting the stands of Acacia trees fills the heart with awe until there is no room left for any other sensation. As we get closer to the city and 'rush hour', the roads are filled with a procession of vehicles that looks like a museum display of the evolution of transportation. Pack Camels and horses next to new Mercedes, truck beds filled with produce being pulled by young men, Old British Leland open body truck next to Small buses filled with an insanely dangerous amount of passengers. And the smell... from the moment I stepped off the 747 I could smell Nairobi. The acrid, pungent smell of 100,000 cooking fires, I'll never forget it.
Nairobi is a strange city to Western eyes. The extremely rich living side-by-side with the extremely poor. At the same time that the rich put up with the incredible filth, inefficiency, and breakdowns; the poor seem to do their best to be well dressed (with much dirt and several holes) and socially responsible. It is just incredible.
Tonight we are going to a restaurant called The carnivore. Here you can eat exotic game that is raised on a farm that the restaurant owns. And then later someone will pick up Sean from the airport. I'm getting along with Travis rather well but I suspect that is partly due to the courtesy that strangers extend to each other.
