Rivers or Roads?

This photograph was taken about 4 weeks ago now by a friend from church. Whilst I wasn’t the photographer, I remember the day and the scenes well as it took me 2 hours to get into the office from Karen (without traffic, that same journey is about 20 minutes)! Torrents of water were pouring down the sides of the roads, and in many places, covering the roads as well. Actually, within a day or two, there was pretty well no tarmac on this particular stretch of road (a sign of rain or poor quality tarmac?!) – which in itself led to huge traffic delays for weeks after. And for pedestrians, life was very difficult. Despite the huge number of pedestrians here, pavements (sidewalks) are rare, so during the rainy season, pedestrians are picking their way carefully through thick sticky mud, or trying to avoid being swept away (as shown here).
The roads have certainly suffered. Potholes abound around Nairobi, some of them taking more than half the width of the road, and deep enough to do damage if you drove into them without realising it.

We’d been in a season of drought for a long, long time, but since about November, there has been quite an incredible amount of rain. Everywhere has stayed amazingly green – this has certainly been the longest period of ‘green-ness’ that I’ve known in my 7 years here. Drought isn't fun, and the consequences can be very serious indeed. So, despite the mud and potholes, we are all very thankful for the rain.

Goodbyes

The American schools have already been out for a week, which means that we’ve already had the main lot of goodbyes for the year. People seem to leave pretty much as soon as the school year finishes, partly because they need to get ‘home’, and get themselves and their children settled before schools and colleges start up again. So, we’ve had the round of household goods and furniture sales, and then a number of leaving parties. Two of the SIL families leaving Nairobi this year have been here a while, so their departures have been hard on many. Don and Jackie have been good friends of mine since my very 1st day here in February 2003. At that time, I came to take on Don’s role as Regional Accounting Services Manager, and actually moved into their apartment for the 14 months that they were gone on furlough, This time around, I’m stepping into Don’s shoes again as Africa Area Finance Coordinator, though I’m sticking with my own apartment. And next time, whenever that is, I’m not even going to step into his shoes – Calgary would be way too cold for me! As well as friends and colleagues, they’ve been my neighbours. Many a time have I popped round to borrow a can opener, just drop in, or ask a favour – and have reciprocated too. And Jackie has been my main research assistant in comparing the police stations of Nairobi (there hangs a tale or two!)! Life in Nairobi is very transient: Goodbyes are very much a part of life here, though they don’t seem to get any easier with time. I’ve asked a number of times, “How many hellos does it take to outweigh the goodbyes?” The ratio is surely at least 10:1. An amazing side of life here is the diversity, and the many nationalities that you rub shoulders with. The downside is that when people leave, it’s back to the four corners of the earth.

Due to the BA strike, their departure date was put back 24 hours. So, to celebrate ‘Buhlers’ Bonus Day’, and to help make their last day in Kenya after 15 years a memorable one, we got to spend it in Nairobi National Park. Despite narrowly avoiding having our lunch swiped by a troop of baboon (!), we enjoyed several hours in the Kenyan countryside (just outside the city), and the beauty of bird and animal wildlife. Next time, Calgary, or the UK, or …………..?

Memorials

Last weekend, I was privileged to be asked to play at the memorial service of an 86-year old gentleman, Dr Geoffrey Irvine, whose guest cottage I, and many of my SIL colleagues, have enjoyed staying in over the years. Geoffrey passed away a few weeks ago, having been airlifted to Nairobi because of pneumonia. He grew up in the highlands of Kenya, his parents having been sent out as missionaries by the Church of Scotland nearly 100 years ago, and then served there with his wife, both of them as doctors. He was truly a gentle man who took a delight in life. I always remember talking with him one time. “I used to dream of a place to retire with a few trees and some water”, he said. “And look what God has given me!”, as he pointed to the view from his garden of acacia trees, and through them, glimpses of the blue of the lake with the pink fringe of flamingoes; the occasional giraffe, zebra, or gazelle passing by; mountains beyond; and the humph-humph-humph of wallowing hippo. It was against this backdrop that the memorial service was held, marquees having been erected on the lawn. I didn’t get to experience it myself, but I’m told that the sound of a Mozart duet emanating from my flute and Julie’s violin, with that view behind us was quite something.

This was the second outdoor memorial service I’d been to (and played at) in the last 3 months, the first being for my dear friend Jane, who passed away in February after a battle with cancer. Both occasions were marked with an abundance of beautiful flowers (a benefit of being in a country where flower farms are big business), and people testifying to the faith of these saints, and the impact their lives had had on many.

All in the pink!

There are some sights here that might me smile every time I see them: some because they’re just plain funny, and others because they give me such pleasure. One of the latter is the view of Oldien Bay that you get as you drive onto private land (legitimately of course!) of the pink mass on the water that is made up of thousands upon thousands of flamingoes. Even more pleasure is derived when, sometimes for no apparent reason, one sets off the alarm, and they run on the water, then take to the air, the sound of their wings overtaking the chuntering sound that they make as they dabble in the shallow waters. As they circle around, necks straight ahead, legs straight behind, the air becomes speckled with their pink and white bodies, the flash of brilliant pink on their wings then becoming particularly visible. Whilst walking close to the lakeshore, there appears to be a ‘Red Sea’ type experience, the seemingly ever-present throng of pink parting just at the point of the walkers. Strange to think that the first time I visited Oldien Bay in 2004, there wasn’t a single flamingo there! Lower water levels, and therefore a more concentrated alkaline solution has perhaps attracted them. I’m not sure what the hippos make of these rather skittish and noisy neighbours though!