Mombasa: Working Hard, or Hardly Working?

After our first week of classes in Nairobi, we departed for a week on the coast.  For those of you interested in my academic endeavors this semester, I am studying Kiswahili, Gender in Traditional and Modern Kenya, and Biodiversity and Conservation in Kenya.  The Mombasa field component is typically scheduled toward the end of the semester as a spring break-ish trip.  However, because the coast (in particular Mombasa) is a swing region in the upcoming election, the program decided to move up our visit so as to avoid any potential post-election violence.

Everyone I talked to in Nairobi prior to our trip to Mombasa kept telling me how hot Mombasa is:

“Oh you’re going to Mombasa? It’s soooo hot.”

“So I’ve heard, but isn’t it also beautiful, full lush forests and gorgeous sunsets over the Indian Ocean?”

“Yeah that too, but it’s sooooooo hot.”

Little did I realize how hot Mombasa actually was!

Over the course of our ten-hour drive to the coast, the weather got progressively hotter and more humid.  There is no air-conditioning on our bus, only windows. Needless to say, those ladies who chose to rock the popular Hanes white v-neck disembarked the bus looking like participants in a wet t-shirt contest.  Ok, obviously this is a little exaggerated, but you get the idea.

We stayed at the Jumuia Resort and Conference Center: a quaint little getaway for tourists and business gatherings.  Luckily for us, we checked in during the middle of “no tourist season”.  We were the ONLY people at the resort…at least until Wednesday when there was a conference for Kenyans planning to work at the election polls in March.  There is a new electronic voting system being introduced for this election, so training programs have to be arraigned. 

Who wouldn’t want to work at the election polls this year?! You become more tech savvy and you get put up in a 4 star resort with all-you-can-eat meal service (until the food runs out), plush beds (equipped with bug nets that reek of body odor), daily pool access, and 24-hour beach access FO’ FREE! Sign me up!

Resort pool

Going into the Indian Ocean was an interesting experience to say the least.  Because the beach is public, beach boys are free to harass you into buying their products.  I’m not talking about the musically talented Beach Boys whose records your dad played on repeat during road trips when you were a kid. I’m talking about unemployed 20-somethings who try to sell you shells and starfish (which is ILLEGAL on the coast! You’re welcome, environmentally conscious friends), after which they invite you to visit their village.  A word of warning: inviting you to their village=soliciting you for sex. I’m sure your twelve-toed great-grandmother is very nice, but I’m not willing to risk my dignity to go meet her.

Indian Ocean

So I know it seems like I was on vacay for a week, but that’s because I was on vacay for a week. Ok, but I actually did do some work.  The academic component of this field trip involved interviewing members of the Mijikenda (the native tribal community whose religion is based on the presence of ancestral spirits) and the Swahili (the wealthier, Arab-influenced Muslims who migrated to the coast as a result of overseas trading).  We interviewed two panels, each representing one of the ethnic groups.  It was clear that the two groups had very different impressions of one another.  The Swahili people portrayed their relationship with the Mijikenda as a mutually respected acquaintanceship.  The Mijikendas, on the other hand described their relationship with the Swahilis in a less favorable light, where they had been subjugated and enslaved by the Swahilis.  The Swahilis were much wealthier and educated than the Mijikendas, so when they immigrated to the coast they used their good fortune to their benefit to take advantage of the indigenous people.

Other highlights included our visit to Fort Jesus. [I honestly couldn’t tell you a single thing about Fort Jesus because our tour guide was so terribly monotone and unenthusiastic.  Afterward he gave us a tour of Old Mombasa and narrated the outing with comments like “This is coconut tree”.  Newsflash: This is NOT the only coconut tree in Mombasa. Please provide more details.] 

Don't look too excited Mr. Tour guide Man

Not to worry, my patience was rewarded with free time to shop in the marketplace.  The old city reminded me of the Muslim quarter in Jerusalem.  The streets were packed with vendors begging us to come into their shops.  As soon as they noted my skin color, they doubled or even tripled the price of everything they had.  Luckily, Sue and Rob Trachman taught me the importance of good bargaining skills from a young age.  The following is a transcribed conversation that I had with one shop owner whom I encountered in Old Mombasa.  I was on the hunt for a traditional tribal mask carved out of wood:

Overly-eager-shop-owner-convinced-he’s-going-to-rip-me-off: [Pointing to a wooden serving spoon] “You like? I sell you for good price”

Me: “No thanks. I want that” [Points to painted mask, the size of a book cover]

Shop Owner: “How much you want to pay?”

[Note: Another saleswoman in the shop had tried to sell me the same mask about 5 minutes earlier for 650 shillings. When I told her that was a ridiculous price, she "generously" lowered it to 450 shillings before I rolled my eyes and walked away.] 

Me: “200 shillings”

SO: “Oh no. I give you for 400 shilling. That’s a very good price. Usually is 650”

Me: “Sir, mimi ni mwanafunzi” [Translation: Sir, I’m a student]

[Subtext: HELP ME I’M POOR (said in Kristen Wiig whiney voice)]

SO: “I buy this for 300 shillings. If I give to you for 200 shillings, I lose money”

Me: “Fine. Let’s come to a compromise. I want to pay 200, and you want me to pay 400. Let’s settle on 300 and call it a day.”

SO: “350”

Me: “Come on. We’re all friends here. You’re my friend aren’t you? C’mon. Let me have it for 300”

SO: [Raises an eyebrow]

Me: “Pleaseeee. Mimi ni mwanafunzi. Tafadhali.”

SO: “Ok fine. I give you for 300”

SUCCESS!

We also had the opportunity to visit a sacred forest owned by the Mijikenda.  The land has been preserved for centuries as an ode to their ancestors who founded the land.  The ancestral spirits are said to watch over the Mijikenda and provide healing powers.  Hence, there are witch doctors and the like within Mijikendan society.  Even nontraditional societies in Kenya have proven to be very patriarchal.  Mijikendan women are not allowed to participate in ritualistic sacrifices and practices, and only the elder men who have undergone years of training are allowed to attend.  Women simply have the “honor” of hauling the materials through the forest that will be used for the rituals. 

Ironically, I happened to be wearing pants with a very similar print to the kikoy that one of the elders was wearing. Obviously I had to get a picture with him. So readers, now it’s time for some audience participation. Who wore it better?

Our second to last night, we were treated to an evening dinner cruise on a channel just off the Indian Ocean.  It was FABULOUS! I enjoyed a four-course meal, which included seafood salad, tomato soup, grilled lobster, and chocolate cake, and a free drink all paid for by KSP (Kenya Semester Program).  It was glamorous, relaxing, and certainly not what one would expect for a semester abroad in a developing country.  Hence, please note the title of this post.

Life is rough

After completing group presentations the next day on what we had learned, we had the chance to visit Haller Park.  It’s a hot tourist spot for visitors hoping to see animals indigenous to Kenya.  I got the opportunity to feed giraffes, pet a giant tortoise, and watch crocodiles and hippos being fed. You might be thinking to yourself Oh ha ha, that’s funny. It must have been like the game Hungry Hungry Hippos. NO! A word of warning: hippos are not cute! They are the deadliest animals in the region and kill more tourists each year than any other animal in Africa.  So yeah, they don’t just feed on dime-size ping pong balls. The also enjoy petite, young Jewish girls looking for love and adventure in a foreign country.

Sun's out, tongues out 

Now we’re back home in Karen and tomorrow we meet our urban homestay families.  We’ll be living with them for two weeks while we take classes in Nairobi.  Afterward, we set off for Tanzania for another two weeks.  Rest assured readers, I will be posting once more before I leave for Tanzania.

Stay young! Stay fresh!

Peace, love, and 70 degree weather in Karen.

Kwaheri ya kuonana!