Old Town Mombasa

This morning I learned as great as it is to sleep in a little, I should probably start going to breakfast a little bit earlier. By the time I had arrived, most of the food was cold and all of the tables were taken. I took a table out by the pool and was forced to find my own chair and silverware. I also learned there is no such thing as “silverware” in Kenya. Silverware is known as cutlery. Thankfully, the waitress eventually understood what I needed. No wonder no one was sitting out where I was; the chairs were soaking wet. I resorted to standing and eating. The cab driver informed me last night that he had another party to pick up at the airport so moved my time of pickup to a half hour earlier. I thought this would be fine and arrived at the office slightly early. As I was sitting outside of Miriam’s office waiting for her to arrive, a man whom I had met yesterday told me sitting in the library would be more comfortable and took me up there. If the view from the conference center wasn’t distracting enough, the view from the library was even better.

When Miriam came, she took me to a lab for a tour. I do not particularly remember which labs we visited, because the lady she dropped me with ended up taking me all over KMFRI. I saw research from sea grasses to fish productivity. I found the natural products lab interesting, as the people there were trying to devise ways for rural fishermen to preserve their caught fish for longer. One such way included a solar drier. After my tour, I headed back to Miriam’s office where I read while waiting for her to take me to town in the afternoon.

Our first stop in the Old Town area was Fort Jesus. Fort Jesus was built in 1593 (if I remember this correctly) by the Portuguese as a way of securing the port of Mombasa for exchange. After one-hundred fifty years, the Arabs conquered the fort. Two hundred years later, the British captured it, until Kenya gained independence. The fort is called Fort Jesus due to its form—from an aerial view, the fort looks like Jesus on the cross. As soon as we arrived at the fort, a tour guide immediately followed us in, wanting to show us around (and get paid of course). Miriam made sure we wouldn’t have to pay extra for this guide we found on the street. After much discussion, most of the time of which I stood staring blankly since they weren’t speaking in English, it was settled we would use a guide from the museum and this guide would show us around the Old Town area afterward. Our guide from the museum didn’t speak English very well and asked if I spoke any other languages. I told him I knew some French, but wasn’t very good. He didn’t speak French either so we were at a loss. Without any English brochures, he did give me one in French. The only problem is reading the brochure will be a challenge. As the guide showed us around the fort, we learned how 4,000 slaves were brought in to carve the fort out of coral and plaster over the walls. Looking at the structure, it’s hard to believe it was in existence so long ago. To think about all of the people who have touched it, or even walked where I was walking was mind boggling to think about. Miriam insisted on taking many pictures of me. She even made the tour guide join in some. This made me laugh, as this tour guide was really confused, as was I.

When we finished up the tour, sure enough, the guide we had left outside was waiting for us. He insisted we take a walking tour of Old Town Mombasa. The buildings in this area were extremely close together, with only walking space in between homes. We walked through these spaces looking at historic buildings, many of which I had a hard time understanding why exactly they were important, but somehow they were. We passed by many people who looked at me and immediately sprang to their feet in greeting a mzungu girl. I usually just politely smile so the people do not beg me for money or bother me after that. As we were walking through one alley way, many children sat playing on a sand pile left in the middle of the street. When I passed and they greeted me, I smiled as I normally do, and when we passed them again, I smiled once more. A few steps past, I felt something pelting the back of my legs and shirt. One of the children had taken a handful of sand and thrown it at my back. The child ran away with a guardian running after him. I turned to Miriam to tell her what had happened and she said not to worry about the kids. However, I couldn’t help to think what may have caused this child to feel the need to throw sand at me. Obviously, the child could see I was from another country, so is there some hatred to other countries? Maybe parents can’t openly show this hatred, but their children can, or just don’t have the skill set to know it is wrong. Many people think it is their duty to help people in countries such as Kenya, but do the people we are helping really want our help? I know some desperately need it and welcome any help they can get; others probably want nothing to do with us, though.

Another strange instance happened on this tour. When the guide asked me where I was from, I said, “The States.” Miriam instantaneously interrupted me saying I was confused and was from Germany. At first, I thought Miriam must have been confused. I never received a full explanation for why Miriam did this, however she did tell me not to say I was from the United States if anyone else asked again. All of these happenings were very interesting, and made me reflect on how Americans are perceived throughout the world. Do that many people really not like us? If so, why?

Our tour of the cramped and crowded Old Town was followed by a trip to the local Swahili markets. With such small spaces in between the homes, the streets were even more crowded with people. The roads turned into one way and multiple times I found myself face to face with a Tuk Tuk’s blaring horn. Many of the fruits sold in the markets looked different than those sold in Nairobi. I inquired about a big red block. At first I thought it may have been dried tomatoes; however Miriam told me they were dates. Also, piles of round wooden things lined the streets. Miriam said these were coconuts before they became ripe—people drank the water inside. She insisted on me trying one as they are very unique to Mombasa. We took a seat along a bench as the vendor pealed and opened one for me. The juice inside tasted much like water, but there was something about it, I didn’t really care for. To be polite, I finished the drink anyways. We also headed to a store that sold leather sandals. The walls were literally covered in different pairs and men were sitting along the walls, hammering away. We sat there for a while, as I looked at all the options and eventually decided on a pair. Miriam wanted to get home before traffic became too bad, so we headed back to the Northern shore where I am staying. At dinner tonight I once again sat with the mission team from the States. Although this group is probably over twice my age, they provide good company and many inspirational stories.

KMFRI

Staying at a Christian based hotel, many mission groups from throughout the world stay here when doing work in Africa. Being at a hotel, it’s a little hard to walk up to random tables to join so I end up sitting by myself for meals. Last night at dinner, a woman from Arkansas introduced herself to me and invited me to eat dinner with them the following night. The woman was really friendly. This morning in the middle of getting ready for the day, my phone rang. I found this strange because who would be calling my hotel phone in Kenya? Turns out, the lady I had met last night had not seen me at breakfast and had gotten worried; she was just checking in to make sure I was okay. It’s good to know that even half way around the world Americans are looking out for one another.

This morning I arrived at KMFRI to be greeted by Miriam’s fellow office mates. The room in which they worked was quite small. I squeezed into a desk in the corner. Miriam began the morning by giving me a quick presentation on KMFRI. KMFRI is divided into multiple research programs including aquaculture, environmental ecology, socio economics, fisheries, natural products, and information and database management. Miriam explained how each of the different components are linked. She works in aquaculture and although I didn’t see her lab I heard her one the phone talking about different fish feeds. Miriam also explained to me how the Kenyan government would like to make aquaculture a big industry, especially in rural areas, but this cannot be done due to the high cost associated with starting up.

Throughout the morning, I visited other researchers in KMFRI. The first stop was Dr. Bernerd Fulanda who works in marine ecology and fisheries. He talked with me about the field research they have going on about commercial trawling off of the coast. This practice has been banned on a majority of the Kenyan coast due to declining fish populations. Many of the concepts I had learned about in environmental science came in handy as he discussed bycatch and other related terms. Dr. Fulanda also talked on how many of the rural fishermen are having troubles catching enough fish for even subsistence use. I also learned a lot about the different masters and doctorate programs students come to Kenya for. Once I was finished talking with Dr. Fulanda, I was tasked with finding my way back to Miriam’s office. New to the campus, it took me walking down a few random halls to find my way. She then took me to a scientist doing work on mangroves in Kenya. Having done some work on mangroves in the past, I found the reasons for diminishing mangrove areas in Kenya quite fascinating and different from other areas of the world. The researcher explained to me many of the rural communities used the mangrove trees to create their homes or burn as firewood because of the strength and support these trees provided. Little do the people know, as they use the mangroves for their homes, they are diminishing the surrounding fish populations since mangroves serve as a fish nursery. Earthwatch, a travel group I have had some experience with, currently has a project with KMFRI further south in the mangroves. I was really surprised to see maps of the many mangroves on the Kenyan coastline. Programs are working on community capacity building so people stop using the valuable trees. However, if there isn’t a solution for the people, their ways are not going to change, even if the security of their food is at risk.

I was taken back to the hotel for lunch and randomly joined by a lady looking to plan her son’s wedding here. I’m not really sure why she joined me as there were plenty of open tables, and when her friend joined as well, they didn’t speak to me or in a language I could understand, for that matter. I was really confused, and finished my lunch quickly. I headed back to KMFRI where I attended a seminar on microbiology in the ocean. Many of the concepts were way past my education level. I did understand why microbiology was so important to study—much of the ocean has millions of microorganisms living in it. I do have to admit, the view of the ocean outside of the window did make concentrating tougher than usual. My first day at KMFRI was a success with a store of knowledge gained. Being here with food insecurity issues in mind, I continually see connections between many components that lead to food insecurity. Every little part of a community is interlinked and with a missing piece or a falling of a domino, everything seems to go array—including a community’s ability to have another meal.

A Day of Relaxation

I have a lot of extra time in Kenya. Usually I end up filling that time accomplishing tasks off a list of things I need to do before I return home. Today, was slightly different, however; I relaxed. The morning started with me waiting for Miriam to pick up. I thought for sure she said ten and the church service started at ten thirty so when she still hadn’t arrived by ten thirty I gave her a call. She said she was fifteen minutes away. Thinking I had gotten the time wrong, I waited patiently a while longer. She eventually arrived by eleven. I had not gotten the time wrong. When we arrived at the church service the pastor was already starting the sermon. We filled in some random seats in the back. I was surprised to find numerous Caucasian people surrounding me. The pastor was even from Southern United States so the sermon was understandable. I also took communion for my first time in Africa. The bread served as communion was chapatti, and instead of grape juice, I think it was black current juice. Black current is similar to grape. I’m not sure what fruit it comes from, but there seems to be a plethora of black current flavored foods.

Once church was finished, Miriam took me to the local Nakumatt to buy some water for the week. Even with my water bottle filters, I do not think the sink water is safe to drink. Miriam dropped me off at the hotel and I was left with the afternoon to myself.
 
Even though the sky was partly cloudy, I went to relax and read by the pool. Weather here is very unpredictable. One minute it can be clear and sunny and the next about to downpour. I felt a slight drizzle multiple times, but within minutes the sky often turned clear. After a while, I ventured out to the beach where I read some more. While sitting there, some insect stung me. My ankle was throbbing and when I looked down at the spot, the stingers were still in my skin. I carefully pulled them out, hoping to ease the pain. Thankfully the pain soon subsided. I am now left with a swollen bug bite, hoping nothing more will occur. After that incident, I decided the beach probably wasn’t for me, today. While getting up, a few feet away from me, a camel walked by. Startled at the sight all I could do was laugh. The beach I was on is supposed to be a private resort beach connecting with the public beach a little ways down causing a lot of passersby. It felt good to relax and unwind today, before I begin my busy week of learning at KMFRI.

Lots of Crocs

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.

Mombasa at Last!

The morning was filled with lots and lots of packing. It’s a bitter sweet feeling packing up a room I have spent so much time in, practically two months of my life. Half of my stuff will be stored in the Guest House while I take the other half to Mombasa with me. Being Tommy’s last weekend, we said our goodbyes at breakfast. As hard as it was to concentrate with my building excitement, I managed to accomplish a few more paragraphs in my report.  I also headed to Naivis to look for some sun screen. I don’t think Africans wear sun screen because there was none to be found. They sure had quite the selection of lotions, however—more than any grocery store in the States. I am sure Mombasa will have sun screen.

The excitement got the best of me and I waited for the driver at least half an hour early. Eventually he came, right on time and drove me to the airport. His English was hard to understand and despite the fact of Karen telling him to help me at the airport, I was still in complete confusion when he pointed to a door and drove off. I followed his instruction and went through that door, met by the first measure of security. People don’t follow lines, as whenever I would step forward to go through, someone would walk right in front of me. I stopped being polite and eventually pushed my way through the crowd. Next, as in any airport, I checked my baggage at the counter and headed through the second security check point. This wasn’t much different from the first, but was substantially laid back compared to security in the States. Beyond the security gate there were two boarding gates. I was warned in advance that this could be confusing. I managed to figure it out, going to boarding gate one. By this point I was about an hour early for my flight and the ladies questioned me if I really wanted to go through. I had purposefully declined a seat on the early flight as to not confuse my driver waiting on the other end. I went through; just to make sure I wouldn’t miss the flight and took a seat.

For the hours sitting there, I read and waited. I watched one group of people board the earlier flight to Mombasa, closely as to repeat the process I had seen. An announcement came on; notifying passengers there would be a thirty minute delay for my flight. Thankfully, the one delay was all and within time I handed in my ticket and walked outside. The planes were lined up all over the tarmac and getting on the right plane could have been confusing if there wasn’t a line of people to follow. I wonder how many people end up on the wrong flight for this very reason. The line seemed to walk on forever. Of course we had the last plane closest to the runway. The service of the airplane was much like any plane taken in the States, with a complementary beverage and small drink. I was surprised by the emptiness of the plane. Few people sat around me. In fact, I was the only one in my row of three seats. Within an hour, I had landed in Mombasa, at last!

As promised, the driver met me after baggage claim. He introduced himself as Jimmy and was friendly and welcoming. By the time I arrived it was already dark out so anything along the streets was hard to see by the drive. From what I could tell, everything looked similar to streets of Nairobi, with constant traffic and street vendors. The place seems to have more of a tourist feel, though. Jimmy was very informative about the roads we were driving on and where they connected. He told me how we were going from Southern Mombasa, through the island, to the northern shore.

By the time I arrived at my hotel, I was exhausted. As soon as I arrived I was seated down and served some extremely sweet juice. In a ten minute talk, the man serving me told me just about everything there was to know about the hotel and what came with my room. Everyone in hotels here serve the guests to the extreme. At one point I think I had about three guys waiting on me, and there wasn’t even anything I needed. Finally I was taken to my room. The room is nice, about the same quality living as the Guest House. To my surprise the room has air conditioning. I think air conditioning is quite the luxury on the coast. After unpacking my things, getting organized, and figuring out my schedule for the following day, I was out.

Perception

I apologize for the week of unexciting blog posts. My days have been pretty monotonous filled with lots of writing and my nights have been the most productive they have been in a while. There have been no excursions to the city or nights out on the town, but time spent at icipe has helped me to accomplish many things on my ever increasing list.

This afternoon marked my last run outside of the icipe compound because if everything goes as planned, I will be flying to Mombasa tomorrow evening. The run was great and being my last I made a point to really take in the scenery. I wanted to go far and Rafiell hung with me to do that. The long road we ran on seemed farther than normal for Rafiell and shorter than usual for me. After about six miles, we stopped where the rest of the group was waiting for us and began our walk back. While walking, a drizzle picked up. I made a comment about how I hoped the rain would wait a while to pour. Rafiell said, “This isn’t rain. It’s just cold drops from the sky.” It’s all about perception I suppose. The rain held off for the most part and when I returned the group probably thought I was crazy for running around the compound a while longer. Returning to my room, I was drenched in rain feeling very accomplished.

The dinner tonight was leftovers from lunch. With only two people staying at the Guest House, serving leftovers makes sense. For those who eat both lunch and dinner here, though, the food gets a little old. I find humor in the fact that I can completely tell the salad they served cold for lunch is the same salad served for dinner, just cooked. I wonder if the people preparing the food think those living in the Guest House don’t notice. Some days it is hard not to.

Sitting alone for dinner for so long with only the occasional visitor joining me if we happen to go eat at the same time, I naturally sit at the same table. Tonight when I did this, a man sitting at another table said, “Why sit alone when you can have company?” I did not mean to be rude to him, I just didn’t think about it. I went over and sat with him, introducing myself and my role at icipe. He asked me a few questions about the States and inquired about the weather. I explained how from talking to people I had heard about severe droughts and heat waves. Having told him about working with climate change, he asked me what the “super powers” (the United States included) were doing to combat this issue. I gave a few solutions, but I found it interesting how other countries are looking to us to solve these problems. If no one starts working to solve the problems and we keep looking to other people, these problems will never be solved. Maybe we need to change our perception on what needs to be done and just do it.

Different Customs, Different Culture, Different Things

As you may have guessed, a majority of my day was spent continuing on my research report. The report seems to be coming along, just very slowly. With time the words and ideas will come together and fall in place. I am beginning to feel as if my hands are permanently attached to my keyboard, though. I arrive in the office each morning to respond to e-mails and begin writing my paper. When I go back to my room at night I write my blogs and am now working on projects for college. One benefit is my typing accuracy will be retained this summer. Instead of fumbling to regain the hang of typing out long papers, my hands will already know which keys to press in the fall.

This afternoon I had the pleasure of meeting the Director General of icipe, Dr. Christian Borgemeister. After having suffered a back injury in a car accident he was on sick leave for quite some time. The respect people throughout the office show him is remarkable. Our interaction was quick, but I felt honored for him to take time out of his busy schedule to even come and say hi to me.

Throughout my stay in Kenya I have been keeping a list of differences in customs and culture. Beyond the obvious differences such as wall plug-ins, there are so many little differences I notice on a daily basis. For starters, as I have discussed before, the time. When I say everything is done at a leisurely pace, I mean everything. For instance, lunch breaks usually last for an hour or more. People very slowly eat their food. I have yet to figure out how they can eat a plate of food so incredibly slow. Even just walking back from the supermarket—the steps taken seem in slow motion. The atmosphere at the work place is laid back and slow also. People take multiple breaks and never carry work home with them. The slowed pace is hard to get used to, but I think I have mastered the hang of it. My patience has definitely improved at the very least.

Culturally, greeting people is very different. I am still slightly confused on the whole greeting thing, but so far this is what I know. Handshakes have a weird twist to them. You shake the person’s hand, then grab it, then return to the position of a firm shake. Sometimes people do this and other times they don’t. When they do, I am thrown for a loop. I often fumble my way through the greeting, hoping they don’t notice my novice greeting skills. Other times, greetings are done with a hug. The hug consists of touching your cheek to both of their cheeks. I believe this is a British influenced custom, but I could be wrong. These hugs are always incredibly awkward for me and never feel quite right. My beginner skills are bound to shine through on this one.

There are many little things different as well. Keys look ancient, as in there are key holes and the types of keys girls wear as jewelry in the States. This also took me a while to get used to, as each hole is different and entering my room can sometimes be a challenge. Also, reliability of sources can never be counted on here. For instance, power comes and goes—sometimes for no reason at all. 

The way sentences are formed and how people refer to different articles confused me at first. The basics I have down, such as a napkin is called a serviette (French?) and when you say you are going to call someone you tell them you will flash them. The word have is normally replaced by the word take. So in Kenya, I take lunch with a group of people, I never have it. And the list continues…

Despite all of these differences whether cultural, customary, or others, I have come to understand we all share many similarities, connected by an unbreakable bond of human nature.