That Time I was mistaken for a Korean Tourist…

Yesterday was one of those days when you look back and think Wow, that was a really great day. It certainly didn’t play out the way I had expected it to, but perhaps it was for the best.

Julia, Abby, Megan, and I had planned on going to the Kenyatta International Conference Center for the past week or so.  It’s the tallest building in Kenya, or as we like to call it “The Tallest Building in the World!”  For 200 shillings, you can take a trip to the top of the center and look out over all of Nairobi. Unfortunately, heavy rainstorms in the city dampened (no pun intended) our last two efforts to go. What’s the point of going to the top when you can’t even see out into the city…and there’s the potential you might slip on the roof and fall 28-stories to your death? How embarrassing.

And so, the Fab Four set out on a sunny afternoon yesterday for the KICC.  As we reached the entrance, we were grinning from ear to ear. We had made it! No rain was going to keep us from getting to the top. It was our day!

We approached the front desk attendant to inquire about an excursion to the roof.  Our dreams were quickly crushed when he told us that that would not be possible. When we asked why, he told us that the new President, Uhuru Kenyatta, was on his way to address Parliament, which was nearly 400 meters away. Apparently four young, white, American girls are a threat to national security, so we wouldn’t be allowed to go to the top of the conference center until after the President had safely left the city.  I guess they thought we had sniper rifles in our backpacks and were prepared to take out Kenya’s newest celebrity. Seeing as this excuse was too unique to possibly be made up, all we could do was pout our lips and leave the building.

The Tallest Building in the World

(it's on the left)

We had already walked all the way downtown, so we decided to go on a little adventure.  We stumbled upon the Kenyan Supreme Court and because Julia’s father is a judge, we had no choice but to go in. As we passed through security, they asked us why we were entering the building.  We told them that we were here for a tour, and they couldn’t help but laugh in our faces.  Apparently no one in Kenya has ever taken a tour of the Supreme Court…who knew?  After catching his breath, one of the security guards agreed to show us around the place.

Uncharted waters

We followed him inside and he showed us the locked doors to administrative offices in addition to an alternative entryway to the building.  Clearly this was the first tour he had given…as well as the first tour given ever. What a pioneer!

We asked him if it would be possible to see a courtroom. He said that the courtrooms are only unlocked when a case is taking place, during which time visitors can sometimes sit in the spectator section.  The odds were once again not in our favor because all of the cases had concluded that morning.  Disappointed once more, we sulked down the hallway. And then, as if out of a fairytale, we stumbled upon a courtroom whose door was slightly cracked.  Our trusty guide allowed us to enter, and it was like walking into Hogwarts—we were in complete and total awe. The room had a suspicious odor and the seats were falling apart, but we could officially say that we were the first St. Lawrence students to ever step foot inside a Kenyan Supreme Court(room)!  Obviously I couldn’t contain my excitement and immediately ran over to sit in what I thought was the judge’s chair.  I later found out that it was merely the stenographer’s seat.  Who cares—I was like Sandra Day O’Connor presiding over my imaginary bitches.

Abby, Megan, and I 

Clearly there was some confusion as to the seriousness of this situation

(Photos courtesy of the lovely Julia Hall)

After realizing that we probably shouldn’t be role-playing in a national courtroom, our soft-spoken tour guide shuffled us out of the room. On our way to the exit, we bumped into one of his security guard friends. This lady had some spunk…or perhaps a few screws loose.  Not only did she mistake Megan’s name for Melon, but she was overly excited to be meeting Americans.  She kept stroking Megan’s arm and forcefully wrapping it around herself.  We told her and our tour guide that we were from the Land of Obama, and our guide then went on to tell us that Obama is Kenyan. Each of us has already had a tough enough time explaining to Kenyans that actually no, Obama is not Kenyan. His family is from Kenya, but he is an American.  Kenyans are always shocked to hear that Obama couldn’t be elected President of the United States if he was a Kenyan native.  So this time, just to humor our new friends, we let it slide and nodded our heads in agreement. 

           

After glancing momentarily in my direction, the lady guard turned to Julia and asked if all of us were American.  When Julia replied yes, the guard pointed at me and argued, “but she’s Korean!” Realizing that I had been mistaken for an Asian tourist, we erupted into a bout of laughter.   This was definitely not the first time that my ancestry has been mistaken…and it probably won’t be the last.

(Featured on Julia's blog)

We said goodbye to our friends, who clearly didn’t want us to leave, and returned to our classroom.

Yesterday was the kind of spontaneous afternoon that you hear your friends telling stories about from their adventures abroad. I’m proud to have my own story to share, and I hope it has inspired each of you to approach a random government building in your town and request a free tour.

Only 4 more days until Uganda!

Kwaheri ya kuonana!