A Foreigner In Kenya, Chapter 26

 

Tafuta vifaa vya ujenzi - search for building materials

But it's not so far to get there

One more thing to do, says vanity

But before I have a heart attack

Or find myself at forty wearing diapers

I'll be lying somewhere on the beach,

A bottle of red wine in my hand

And put my feet in the white sand

And sometime I'll just stay there ...

The dream goes on. Never stop dreaming. Dreams are like foams, they burst, some come true! You have to work on your dreams.

Where can I get the necessary building materials from? What we need at the beginning are stones, sand, cement, fiber, ... Where do I get them from? It is of course very good if the building materials are from the immediate vicinity and do not have to be transported from far away. So we're going to my building plot. There's a city not far away, so there should be something to do! The Fundi told us that he needs stones first. This is our first task.

We get out at the building site. I look around. There is a small supermarket, a pharmacy, then the hotel, or as we say, the restaurant. When I turn around, Patrick suddenly stands in front of me. I just wonder where it came from so suddenly? We greet each other. The monster tells him that we need stones for the foundation.

"See who's coming!" Says the monster and points in one direction. I look, there comes my aunt.

Another greeting. 

The aunt is also informed. 

"We need stones, ballast, cement ...," explains the monster. 

It is discussed. 

"Let's go to the hotel," says the monster, "we can talk better there." 

We go to the hotel, look for a place. The waitress comes, the monster orders something to eat and drink.

"Stones are not a problem, they are lying around here, we just need to collect them. I have someone who can do that for that." 

As a precaution, I ask: "How much will it cost?" 

"I don't know, we'll ask." 

After dinner we go to this man. Patrick, the monster and me, the aunt is going home again.

The way is not very far, soon we will have reached the place that is apparently our meeting point. A small stream flows, the road comes to an end. A rickety footbridge leads over the stream.

Nobody to see. Patrick calls out loud, but no answer. He picks up the phone and calls him. After a few minutes the man is there. He comes across the stream.

There is not much talk, Patrick tells him what we want, the man replies that is no problem. "Collecting the stones costs 2000."

I agree with that. Why not? Working a day isn't too much, I think.

Everything done, we go back satisfied. 

We're going back. There is nothing more we can do here.

The monster is proud. "I told you, the stones are on the road, they just need to be collected!"

Right, she said that.

A few days later. A call from the construction site. The man has the stones together, now he needs a transport. I am a little surprised, as I had assumed that the stones would be brought to the construction site. It is not so!

We're going back to the construction site. There are other things that need to be done.

We get out of the Matatu and just like a few days before, Patrick suddenly stands in front of me. I didn't even notice him. Is that a ghost, this Patrick? He appears out of nowhere.

"Transportation is not a problem," he says. "There is someone who has a wagon who does it."

The aunt comes too. I can see them from afar. She can't go fast. Somehow I'm not surprised.

We're going back to the hotel. To eat and drink.

"It doesn't cost much to transport the stones," explains Patrick. "Only 5000."

I think that's a lot. If collecting the stones costs 2000, the transport cannot cost 2.5 times as much. The way is not far and the transport only takes a few minutes.

I make my objection. Excuses come back. The road is bumpy, the stones have to be loaded and unloaded. And what else do I know! I just find it strange that the good man collected stones, hasn't he already loaded them? He must have only marked them so that they can be found quickly. That's how easy it can be.

What can I do, I'll pay. A strange feeling remains in the stomach area.

The stones have been delivered. We're going there. This time with the Fundi. He can begin! I think so.

Patrick is back! I would have been surprised if he hadn't come.

We're going to the construction site. The Fundi looks at everything. Also look at the blueprint. Begins to measure.

"Where will the house be built?" He asks.

I'll show him the spot. He starts measuring again.

"Yes, that fits well," he says.

I am satisfied too.

"What we need now is a hut."

"Why this?"

"For the tools and for the workers! They can't go home, they have to sleep here."

"What kind of tools ?." I ask naively.

"We need tools to start building a house."

"Aha," I mean, "and you don't have any?"

So I learned that in Kenya no Fundi has a tool. In Europe it's the other way around, I don't have any tools, the Fundi has everything.

We go into town to buy the necessary material. The Fundi goes with you, he knows what he needs.

The building works alone cost 25,000 materials.

We drive back to the construction site.

What we still need is wood for the hut. We have the Mabati, nails, saws and a few other small parts too. Of course Patrick is there, he just knows everything! He has a tree to fell and then cut to size, costing 10,000 for the tree and 2,000 for the saw. Do not imagine that the tree is a huge tree, it is a small tree, a eucalyptus tree. Felling it takes time. There is a timber trade next to the construction site, I didn't know that, I could have got the wood immediately and cheaper too. But that's Patrick's business and it has to be worth it for him.

We often go to the construction site, there is a lot to do. Always something new.

Fundi was on the construction site for 3 days and built this hut. Cost me 4,000. His people are there, the building of the house can begin. His people are not enough, he needs helpers. The seller's brother, Patrick's son, the monster's son and a few others are there, they work with us. Everyone is hardworking, everyone is committed. I look at them. I am happy.

The foundation is ready. Took two weeks, but now it can go on.

We need bricks. That's a problem. Not easy. I have to fight against the monster and a ghost that is invisible but is still there. And the ghost has a name: Patrick.

I drive trucks with bricks past me. I say to the monster: "Call this company, ask what it costs."

She knows. "A brick costs 10 shillings."

We're going back to the construction site. Patrick reappears, out of nowhere he's back. We tell him what we need. Of course he knows what to do. I wasn't surprised either. Anything else would have surprised me, but not that!

"There is a farmer who burns bricks."

I also think we should call this company, but the monster doesn't hear.

We go to the farmer. Not far from the hotel. The bricks are small, not as big as the ones on the truck!

"A brick costs 7 shillings," says the man.

There is not much difference, 3 shillings! In order to be able to decide something, I need to have more information.

I'm not saying yes, I'm saying that I don't have any money at the moment, that I have to get one first.

We're going, we're going back.

You cannot compete, cannot compete

With a person with a mouth

That's right, I am powerless against a ghost.

Draw your attention to something noticeable that she should call after all, she does not call. Not possible!

What I've noticed so far is simply explained. 

Everything Patrick says is law, it must be obeyed. My opinion just doesn't count! Patrick doesn't build the house. He makes all agreements, without him nothing goes here! He is there everywhere, has his hands in the game everywhere.

Being fought is usual, do not let it bother you

You are a tree with fruits, get used to the stones

Cry a little, then be quiet that the pain will end

When you continue, you confuse them more

The monster and I are sitting in the hotel. We are waiting for our order. I am a little surprised that Patrick or the aunt are not there. It's strange! I take the opportunity and ask the monster: "Who is this Patrick?"

"Why do you ask?"

"He's always there and what he says fits."

"I don't know him. He's just a kind man who wants to help us."

I have to swallow that, there is nothing else to do.

"I didn't ask him for help. If I need help, I ask for help. I have the feeling that he makes his profit with me. Without him, it doesn't work!"

"He just wants to help!"

"I thought he was a relative of yours."

"This is my first time to see him."

Patrick comes, behind him the aunt.

We eat, talk. First over the bricks. The monster did not call, and my request to ask another brickmaker was not granted either. I would have wondered too. After some discussion, I make it clear that I will buy the bricks from this farmer. Patrick and the monster are happy. They achieved what they wanted.

The next problem is much more delicate. Now that construction begins, it will be necessary to have someone to look at and monitor the daily construction progress. The construction workers must be controlled.

I mean: "I have the Fundi, who is responsible. I have a contract with him, if not in writing, but also verbally and I pay him weekly. I will fire him if I am not satisfied." 

The monster knows better. "We have a construction site here with some material. A lot of bricks, cement, stones, wheelbarrows, shovels, hoes and so on. That is a value that must also be protected. If we do not check every day, then we lose a lot . They drag everything away! "

These are of course arguments. In Kenya in particular, they are absolutely correct. I know that everything is taken here that is not solid.

I say: "I know that! It's not new, people are stealing in Europe too. Kenya is no exception. And I expect it too. Someone will take cement, another some bricks, that will be difficult to control. With that I do the math. " 

The discussion goes back and forth. Without really moving from the spot.

The monster is not satisfied with the service. She calls the manager, gives him a long lecture on how the service should be and that she has a lot of experience in this area.

"Thank you, Madame, for your advice, I will take it into account." A friendly manager.

We go. It's afternoon and it's time to go home. In front of the hotel the monster suddenly says: "I think that will be the best, Patrick and my aunt do the supervision together. What do you think of that?"

Everyone is looking at me. I shrug my shoulders. The monster takes that as approval. For me it is a great resignation, nothing else!

"The payment? What do you think 50,000 are OK. 50,000 for Patrick and 50,000 for my aunt? That's okay!"

I just nod. Everyone is smiling, maybe grinning too. What do I know!

The bus is coming, we get on, drive home. 

Then pick up your faith and return to the fight

When they see you to say you have become tough

Let them speak, let them talk about you

For there is a God that will shut their mouths

We're back. The bricks have to be bought. Patrick is back, suddenly standing in front of me as if risen.

We go to the farmer. Not far from his farm is a lake, not big, just a bigger Lacke. Does not look good.

"You can go swimming here," says the monster. "Is the lake deep?" She asks the farmer.

He has to think, then, after a while, he says: "It's deep." 

I leave it that way. It doesn't matter either.

We go to the bricks, look at us. I have to admit, I don't know my way around. Bricks are a mystery to me.

We're going into a house. 

The farmer is asking me for 70,000. I refuse.

He says: "10,000 bricks makes 70,000!" 

"That's right, only 1. I don't buy 10,000 bricks now, and 2. I don't have the money. I buy 1000 bricks. I don't need any more at the moment." 

The monster is surprised. "Why only 1000? That's not enough!"

"Even if I want to, I can't. I don't have the money and until these 1,000 bricks are used up I'll buy the next." 

"That doesn't work! We need 10,000 bricks!" 

"Maybe, but not tomorrow." 

"We agreed!"

"You made it, not me! That's not the point! I can't pay!" 

"1000 bricks are not enough. That must be more!" 

She is thinking. Strained.

"OK, we're going to buy 5,000 bricks now. Is that possible?" And turning to the farmer, she says: "Leave something behind! You see we have problems."

The farmer goes down with the price. Now one brick costs less. That helps me.

I'll get the money out of my pocket and pay him the price. The farmer counts, is satisfied, pocketed it.

The monster would like to have a receipt, of course there is no such thing. Again she gives a long talk about the importance of keeping records. I'm just afraid the farmer has never heard of it. Your lecture is getting on my nerves. I have to say something. "In case you didn't know, there's just black money here, it doesn't appear anywhere."

People look surprised. What should I do? What is right is just right.

We go. We stop in front of the house. The farmer goes behind the house with the monster, a private conference! What shoud that? What do they have to discuss so secretly? What's going on I do not know and will not find out.

If words were able to pierce this body

Then my body would be full of wounds

In the war of words, there are generals

If you were to compete, you will lose

Now comes the transport. Not that easy in a country like Kenya.

We're going to the hotel. I need a beer. Unsurprisingly, Patrick has someone for the transport. It's a younger man.

I ask him: "How much?"

He says: "10000."

I'm pissed off. That's just too much!

"You can leave."

I have nothing more to discuss with him.

The monster is mad at me. "Why are you so stubborn, let's negotiate!"

It doesn't matter either, the young man doesn't go, he doesn't have permission from Patrick or the monster, he stays seated.

"He says 7000 now!" Translates the monster.

Patrick looks excited.

"I said he could go. I have nothing more to talk to him about. It's over."

"How should the bricks get to the building site?"

"Leave them where they are."

That sits!

Patrick is the first to realize this deal is over. He dismisses the young man. That works too. He did not do his job or performance. Patrick jumps up, runs away. He has to save the business! The monster looks angry, is confused about my appearance. It doesn't take long before Patrick comes back. He has a new offer. It costs 5000 now. Even that is too much, but I agree. The monster is relieved, so is Patrick. What I would like to know is how much of those 5000 he can take. That he is holding up the hand is obvious. Nothing works without his consent! If he wants he can prevent the whole building.

The human, the man has an issue with the tongue

If you teach it silence, you will not lose

My friend, what is your problem?

Why lie? Fear God

If God judged by listening to words

Then what of pregnancies that are talked about a lot

If God judged by listening to gossip

Then I would advise you my minister to close the church

Sand. We need sand! Where to take, if not steal? I dont know! The monster says a load of sand costs 25,000. I have to repeat it, I don't know. What I've learned in the past few days is that everyone is taking advantage of me. Patrick is doing his business! If he has his hand in the game, everything costs double. So I have to be careful.

"25000 ?," I am amazed, "is very nice! The sand hardly costs anything, it is fetched from a river somewhere."

"That's right," says the monster, "the sand costs nothing, but the transport!"

Yes, the transport! Again and again the transport. I already know that from the stones and bricks.

"It gets expensive especially when your friend Patrick has a hand in it."

The monster snapped. Not too long, she knows what's right. The mzungus are all idiots anyway! So what is it for?

I'll leave it as it is, as I always do.

I do research on the internet. I have few opportunities to make myself smart here. Everything is kept away from me. Could harm me! I still find out something. Partly from the Internet, partly from friends I meet on my walk, with whom I talk. They give me information. Soon I'll know the price of a truckload of sand. The price is 6000.

I confront the monster with this news.

"That is definitely not good sand," she says.

"That can be, but the difference remains. It's a long way from 6000 to 25000. I think that the quality of the sand is not the decisive factor. There is someone who wants to enrich himself."

Who can it be?

I guess it's the monster and she's using Patrick for it.

Nevertheless, the sand has to be chewed. We need two truckloads. With 6000 it doesn't work that doesn't surprise me, it costs 12000! So twice as expensive.

"Why is the sand so expensive," I ask. I know, a stupid question, but what the heck? A mzugu is lost in this land.

The answer is simple. "The sand comes from far away."

A stupid question, a stupid answer. A mzungus got it!

Jesus, this Jesus did not defend himself

Though they talked with evil intents, He forgave them

And you forgive them, and pray for them

For they do not know ..?

We are sitting in the hotel. Clouds are gathering, it will rain. I can feel it in my bones. We, that's the monster, the Fundi and me. We discuss how the house should be built. We'll come to an agreement pretty soon, there isn't much to discuss. The house construction will be done in stages. Each level costs 55,000.

Now the Fundi comes with a wish.

"What about a meal allowance?"

I am surprised because the architect has already said that this is not common in Kenya. I tell him that too.

"We're not at home, we can't go home to eat there. And it's more expensive in the hotel."

This is common in Europe. I know that. It's not new to me.

"What do you have in mind?"

"200 a day!"

To make this story short, I agree. Let them be happy.

Palms rise to the universe

As we moonshine and molly

Feel the warmth, we'll never die

We're like diamonds in the sky

A few days later I found out that I had agreed to where it was, without really knowing what the impact would be. In short, I was ripped off again. The monster didn't say anything either, just smiled and agreed.

A Foreigner In Kenya, Chapter 25

 Majadiliano - a discussion

We now have everything we need to start building. To be able to think, I go for a walk. I go my usual way. Maybe a mistake. There are not many paths that I could go, here I am left in peace, that is important to me. Many greet me, some work in the fields, others come towards me.

It had rained that night, now the sun is shining and the ground is dry.

I meet a farmer, he comes from the field. His friend a little away.

"Mzungu, give me some money," he says to me.

"I don't have one," I replied, that is also true, I never go away with money in my pocket.

His friend shouts something to him, I don't understand it, it's in Swahili.

The farmer calls back: "They are rich! Everyone has a car, can afford anything! They are so rich."

I want to put it right, but this intelligent man is not listening. To him it is very clear that mongooses are rich! End and end!

I go on. One kilometer further on, a man and his son hold me up.

"Mzungu, help me. My son should leave the country. He should go to America."

It's the old song, no Kenyan wants to stay in Kenya, everyone just wants one thing, get away as quickly as possible.

First I have to explain to him that I am not American.

"Never mind Mzungu, anything is better than Kenya."

I am a little surprised by this announcement. Nobody has ever said it so clearly and clearly.

"Why the son?" I ask.

"I'm old. My son is still young. He should have it better than I've ever had."

I can understand that. A father worried about his son's future!

People are approaching from the surrounding houses. Everyone is curious what the mzungu has to say. Some let their work rest, come closer, surround me.

"I can't help, I'm a pensioner. I haven't worked for a while. I can only help establish contact with the embassy. I can't do more than that."

He is satisfied with that. I explain to him where I live, so that he can come over, I can help him if he wishes.

In the meantime some people have come. They stand around me, listening to what is being said.

One says: "Help me too, I want to go too."

I have to laugh. "What's going on?" I ask, "why does everyone want to leave?"

I know nobody is rich here. The fields are too small to be able to live well. The farmers don't need to go hungry, they can make ends meet, OK, more bad than right, but I've seen worse.

"You make a lot of money!"

It's always the same lyre. Money, money and more money.

"I have to explain that to you," I say. Everyone looks at me expectantly. The rich mzungu speaks. He speaks the truth and it doesn't sound too good. "First of all, I have to tell you that there is no ugali (maize flour) in Europe. We feed the maize to the chickens and pigs."

A big grumble sets in. I continue. "If there is maize, that is, this flour, it costs 300 shillings. Let's start with. Let's look at the earnings. I admit that sounds good in Kenya. A small income is around 100,000 shillings. Sounds good I assume that nobody here earns that much in a month. "

Approving hum.

"Now we have to look at what we can do or afford with 100,000 shillings. Let's take a few examples. For example, transport. If I drive into town from here, I'll pay 100 shillings. The same route at home costs 250 shillings. If I take a taxi this distance it costs 800 shillings. Let's see. 1 kilogram of bread costs between 150 and 450 shillings. Butter costs 280 shillings and that's a quarter of a kilo. "

A young man says: "It costs 50 shillings from here to town!"

I'm surprised! “I have to pay Mzungu price.” I can only shrug my shoulders. You have to be used to getting shit.

"I pay 5000 shillings a month for electricity and gas," I continue. "Now we have to look at the income. 100,000 schillings are not too much. With this income you can make ends meet, you can't really afford anything. I still have to pay the rent and it has to be. For 60 m2 you have to about 50,000 shillings are paid and that is still cheap. I can safely say that my pension is not particularly large, it is a little more than the minimum pension, but still so low that I get a compensation payment. Finally, one more thing, that nobody knows. It was in the newspaper yesterday. Anyone who earns less than 1240 euros belongs to the poor. In Austria there are 80,000 people who are poor, and we are less than 9 million people.

It's true, there are rich mzungus. There are some with good work, who earn well, who can afford a lot. The majority scrapes past the poverty line. "

Big wonder sets in. Nobody can believe that.

"What does an installer earn?"

"An installer can count on 1,800 euros. That is gross."

"What does gross mean?"

"Gross earnings are the salary that you get on paper. From there you still have to pay taxes, insurance and don't know what else. Net, after all these deductions, you have about 1500 to 1600 euros over."

"That's not a lot. What does a plane ticket cost?"

"That depends on the time of year. The prices are not always the same, they fluctuate. If a lot of people fly, it gets more expensive. I paid 60,000 shillings."

An elderly man stands up. "Thank you! Now I know my way around."

They all go. The work is not a toad, it doesn't skip away, has to be done. I also go on my way. I just wonder where will my path lead me?

I saw the life inside your eyes

So shine bright, tonight you and I.

We're beautiful like diamonds in the sky

Maybe I saw that. I hope so for both of us. Goethe wrote it very aptly: '... women, they spin and weave, heavenly gifts in earthly life.'

A Foreigner In Kenya, Chapter 24

 Ni nini mbaya - what is wrong

You are the only one

I've never seen before

My number one

You only I go crazy for

I wanna be with you forever

I wanna be your super love

We are still looking for a blueprint. It goes back and forth. We don't have a real plan yet I can't expect anything from Fundi. I ask him if he can make a construction plan. Nothing works without an architect! That surprises me. I think to myself, he should have a little idea.

That's enough for me, I sit down and draw a construction plan. It's a European blueprint, a European house.

I say to the monster, "Send the blueprint to the Fundi."

Some time later, the answer comes, "Looks good."

We meet again. This time we have a basis to talk about.

One of the first questions is, of course, the price. I want to know what the material costs and the labor. He doesn't know, gives evasive answers.

"First we have to see the architect, he will tell us what and how much material we need."

I make another announcement: "Well, I want to get from you; first, a list of what material is needed; and second, I want to know the labor time."

A few days later. We meet again. I'm thinking to myself, he got everything, now I'm getting an overview. What he has is a text message, he shows it to me. Apparently an architect from Nairobi, at least that's what he claims. The architect is asking 200,000 for his overview, because that's the only thing it can be. For the building plan to draw he has someone, he asks 50,000. I am a bit puzzled. Annoyed. I have never seen anything like this before. We continue talking. I make a mistake, notice it immediately, want to correct myself, look at the Fundi, notice that he has not noticed it. I am very surprised. I make more mistakes, this time on purpose, the Fundi doesn't correct me! Strange.

We go home. It doesn't leave me alone, I have to ask the monster, "Is that really a Fundi?"

"Of course," she answers.

I don't say anything, it bothers her. I wait for some time, then I ask, "Did you sleep with him?"

Maybe. I think I saw looks there between the two of them, which I noticed and which have no place between a customer and a builder.

"He's married!"

"It doesn't mean anything."

I wonder, of course, what kind of home construction that was and where? She has no job, is a volunteer. Who would put her to work there? Alright, I'll take it easy, that was before my time, none of my business. Just like her children, I don't know the fathers and they don't interest me either. Maybe it's a mistake on my part, maybe.

I decide to give up the Fundi. So far he has only cost and contributed nothing. For my house I need someone I can rely on.

I search and I find. The one Fundi does what Innocent should have done. He makes a list of the material that is expected to be needed. Then the working price. This is also strange. He calculates the house construction in 3 steps. 1. the foundation, 2. up to the windows, and then up to the rentals. Must confess, I do not know this, is new.

The other fundi already comes with a list of materials needed, as well as the price. Now only the labor price is missing. He charges differently. He charges one price for the foundation and another for the walls. He is also cheaper. This is easier for me to understand. I give him the order.

Sometimes I might wonder why you love me so

I no go leave you till I die mamitto

Girl, I want you to understand

This love makes me feel so special

I want you to understand

This love makes me feel so special

A Foreigner In Kenya, Chapter 23

 

Interlude 

Oir, ver y callar - hear, see, shut up, that's how I proceed. It's easy and doesn't bother. Many people think that whoever doesn't talk is an idiot. It may be true that I'm an idiot, I can't help it.

Tragalo, perro - swallow it, you dog.

I have seen the demons that only the judges, heretics, guests flew, crawled, crouched, those evil spirits that were always only one, and I saw their grim joy.

What am I writing about? From a woman, of course! Happiness is only a woman too. But apparently not my luck. I came to stay here

After two or three weeks I began to feel it,

I inhaled the feeling of life there

All my thoughts were turning around

What used to be important now looked so silly.

Did I really think I found her? Apparently! Life is not straight, there are ups and downs, curves, one-way streets, oncoming traffic. Life is not easy, not for me. I am looking for happiness, love, peace and contentment. Just a peaceful life. I want to leave the ups and downs behind me, I've had enough of them.

Shine bright like a diamond

Find light in the beautiful sea

I choose to be happy

You and I, you and I

We're like diamonds in the sky

You're a shooting star I see

That's what I wanted! Just that! Apparently an impossibility in Kenya.

In our hectic world

It's all about power and money

Finances and banks get me down

The bill never quite picks itself up

And someday you'll ask me

Why I am so tormented

And why I am not already far away, God knows where.

This is a song verse from Austria, it says exactly what I wanted to write and how I feel.

What happened? Very easily. I received a message from my family. Shouldn't be anything unusual, because I'm in touch with them. But this news already confused me. My former wife wrote to me that she had received a message from a certain tabby, she had asked for 10,000, which she would need in order to be able to study. The name doesn't mean anything to me. I ask, get the message that it's the monster's sister. I'm a little excited! I tell the monster. The monster is not that surprised at all, rather angry because she now has a problem that cannot be easily eliminated.

"If that is the case, I will go. That is not right."

The monster is really angry now.

"What do I have to do with my sister?"

Of course she is right. Your sister is a different person. From the same parents, of course.

Think the worst of everyone and you think the real. That is also true.

I don't speak well and I ignore the monster. Sister, no matter what, I don't care.

So let's 

Diving in the 

Deep lap of the 

Love; because we

have just like that 

A short time on 

This earth, 

And we are like that 

Long dead.

A Foreigner In Kenya, Chapter 22

 Mbunifu - the architect

We have already achieved a lot. The land is bought, we also have a builder, what we still need is an architect to draw my building plan, which is only a sketch at the moment, properly so that we can get the permits. We go back to the property, we think it's easier to have an architect from the area. Surely is not wrong thinking. We ask the surveyor, he knows one, sends us there. I give him my sketch, he looks at it. I made one mistake, but it was only because I didn't know. In Kenya there must be two entrance doors, that's my mistake. It doesn't matter! We make another door through which we can enter the house, through the kitchen. Otherwise everything fits. The construction plan is quickly drawn, for this he uses a computer. After 3 hours the construction plan is ready. The architect shows the house as it will look when it is finished. Virtually, this is feasible and the monster lets herself be guided through the virtual house. It wants to see everything, virtually going from the entrance to the living room, then on to the bedroom, from there to the kitchen and the guest rooms. The next problem is the permits. That's where the architect comes to our rescue. He says, for a little money, he can get us the permits in a short time. I agree and really, in half an hour we have all the stamps. I still have to deposit some money, but I get deposit slips. We go to the bank, want to deposit, but it does not work. I am a foreigner, so I don't have a PIN (Personal Identification Number), and to make this payment you need a PIN. How can you pay something if it is not allowed? Difficult! I say to the monster, "Pay it you, with your PIN." I give her the money. She goes to the bank counter, I sit down comfortably, stretch out, thinking of only one thing: a cold beer would do me good right now. It takes a few minutes, but then it's done. We have everything we need! We can be satisfied. Everything is done. The construction project can begin!

A Foreigner In Kenya, Chapter 21

 Fedha - the money

We are on our way again. The money arrived, people ran like crazy to the bank, wanted to withdraw the money, but the bank prevented that. Wasn't bad!

They want to force him to worship their gods, and as he refuses, they pluck him by his beard and his hair and yank him until he kneels, and it's very funny. He does not recognise their visible gods, and the others do not recognise his invisible gods. But just in case, they take away the little money he has saved up for the altars of their gods, and they beat three of his seven children to death.

That's just by the way. Money makes the world go round. Round is maybe not correct, mad is maybe better. 

We, the monster and I, we are already expected, impatiently, fearfully perhaps, that we, or rather I, will not come. The man with the money! At the moment everything is at my feet. I can't believe what money can do. It works. Money always works. Kindness prevails. Of course, with my signature there is money! Why shouldn't people be friendly? 

In the surveyor's office we sign. Copies are made. I get one to look at. Well, immediately I notice that this document from Ministry Of Land, is not stamped. I have to point this out to him. He apologises, stamps all the papers. 

The way to the bank is now clear. With the signed contract they get the money. They can hardly be restrained. Their first way to the bank! Where else? 

We're going back. 

I have time to think. 

What am I going to do with my life?

... I knew what I was spending it on,

Considered what my faith weighs,

And if I end it on the judgment block,

I was victorious in the end!

(Richard Zach, Austrian poet, executed in January 1943)

From a poem smuggled out of prison). 

Somehow I feel as if I were on the slaughter bench. It's just happened too quickly. We haven't known each other that long and now I've bought a building plot! Somehow too fast! Way too fast. I feel run over. 

We're going for another beer, it's got to be now! My throat needs to be flushed. Something is scratching in my throat. 

As always, my thin thoughts dispel the monster. She's got it, I'll give her that. 

We're still talking about the house, how it's going to be, what we have to consider. 

"Call Fundi, I need to talk to him!" 

Everything is still open. Nothing is decided.