The hotel
I am staying in is nice for African standards. From the looks of things, they
recently retiled the floors and bathroom. One area they forgot to fix, however,
is the sinks. The faucets seem to be rusting, giving my skin a metallic smell
with a simple shower or hand wash. But I can’t complain. There’s a pool within
a few feet from my door and a little further down the resort lies a beach on
the Indian Ocean. Needless to say, this morning I went to check out my
surroundings, staying within the hotel boundaries of course. The air is muggy
and more humid than Nairobi. I really enjoy the heat and the salty ocean
breeze. The sand was fine and white, almost making me feel as if I’m no longer
in Africa. The breakfast served consisted of pancakes and French toast. The French
toast was decent and the pancakes were thinner than I would typically have back
home, also a little sweeter. The resort I’m staying at has two pool areas, both
of which look very nice. I sat by one waiting for Miriam to come pick me up
this morning. All this scenery is beautiful, but not why I am in Mombasa.
Let me
step back a second to explain. When one of my advisers at icipe saw my interest in marine sciences, she immediately thought
of sending me to KMFRI (Kenya Marine and Fisheries Research Institute). This is
a government run organization, so I was required to send a letter requesting a
week internship with one of their staff. They accepted my response and assigned
Miriam to be my guide and instructor for the week. Each day Miriam has a plan
for me to learn more about KMFRI and the Mombasa area.
Last night
I called Miriam to tell her I was here and inquire what time she would pick me
up this morning. My American accent threw her off, but eventually she figured
out who I was and said she would get me at ten. I should have known this was
African time. Finally, at about eleven thirty, she arrived. Being a Saturday,
Miriam took me Mamba Village, a local crocodile farm. I think this is related
to the crocodile place I visited in Nairobi. We paid at the gate and proceeded
on the path a guide instructed us to follow. After a windy trail and looking at
some bridges that were about to collapse (we didn’t use these), we caught up to
another tour group and joined in. We walked through the park looking at all of
the crocodiles. The arrangement was similar to a zoo. Crocodiles were
everywhere! The village had the crocodiles divided into age groups. The
youngest ones would soon be killed for food. The larger crocodiles were often
missing parts of their tails or entire pieces of their jaw from fighting over food.
I think the village may have had too many crocodiles in each area. The way some
were literally piled on each other was something I had never seen before. Like
in Nairobi, I was able to hold a few, except these ones were substantially smaller.
The guides request payment or “appreciation” after letting the visitors hold
crocodiles or giving tours. This always makes me laugh after we paid to get in.
Mamba Village also had a botanical garden, small aquarium, and snake park. I
was able to hold one of the snakes as well. In visiting places where animals
are kept, I have found the areas are not as well maintained as zoos I have
visited in the past. The enclosures often look poorly cleaned, if cleaned at
all. I wonder if this has an effect on the life span of the animals.
For lunch,
Miriam took me into downtown Mombasa. I didn’t think it was possible, but the
streets of Mombasa are even more crowded than the streets of Nairobi. There is
a prominent beach feel in the air. The heat carries an uncleanly stench with
it. These streets still have those begging for money and children’s starving
eyes—the constant reminder of why I am here. Miriam wanted to take me to one of
her favorite Swahili restaurants. Being the season of Ramadan, the restaurant
was closed. Mombasa has a prominent Muslim community. Walking through the
streets we could hear a prayer going on at a local mosque. The Swahili women
are everywhere as well, apparent by their full body black dresses. The
different attire adds to the diversity of the area.
Since the
restaurant was closed, Miriam took me to a local place. With all of the tables
full, instead of having us wait, the restaurant took us to some open seats at a
table to share with another woman. After ordering fish, I went to wash my
hands, expecting a whole fish to appear on my plate. For once the fish was
filleted; what a relief. I liked being able to use my fork and knife to eat
with and not worrying about any bones. When the waiter came back and Miriam
told him to take his time one the check, he sure did. I think we did not leave the
place until an hour after we had finished eating. During that time I got to
know Miriam better and how she ended up in Mombasa. She had numerous questions
for me about America t00.
Miriam took me to Haller Park after lunch. She explained to me that Haller Park used to be a big quarry where limestone was mined to make cement at a local factory. The factory then made the park into an animal reserve where hippos, crocodiles, and other animals are found. We had arrived just in time for the hippo feeding and hurried to their enclosure. We were literally face to face with the hippos as they ate their meat. The crocodile feeding was next and was amusing to watch. The man put meat onto a pulley and dangled it over the water. As a crocodile would snap, the man would pull the meat up. Eventually all the meat was gone and we headed to the snake park. Haller Park was littered with monkeys. They were swinging in the trees and all around us. They were obviously immune to humans, as when we would approach they would just sit and stare. I think the monkeys still amaze me because I am not used to seeing them outside and not enclosed in a zoo. After a day filled with animal watching in the heat of Mombasa, I was thankful to come back to my air conditioned room.
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