A Foreigner In Kenya, Chapter 18

 Wajenzi - builder

This is how life goes, an eternal ups and downs. Sometimes pretty, then again ugly. Bert Brecht already wrote it: 'Nothing stays as it is.' And there is nothing to add to that.

The monster is in my ears, she wants to build a house. I am not convinced that this is the right decision. A house means that I always have to be in the same place, I can't decide overnight that I want to leave this place. I have to sell a house, rent it out, I just give it back an apartment. Much easier and without a headache.

I object, she listens, pretends to understand.

She is looking for an apartment. It's too tight where we live. Which is not really true, because after the party we were - I think there were eight people - in the house and slept there. I have to accept the narrowness, there is nothing else to do.

An apartment will soon be found. Bigger than the current one. Not far away. Pleasant for Jigsaw because that's where she goes to school. Rent is fine, 10,000. We look at them. Not bad. We go again, the caretaker will talk to the owner and then let us know. We'll get word the next day. The owner demands 20,000!

I'm not surprised why, I was expecting something like this.

The monster says: "The owner must have found out that you are a mzungu and has doubled the rent."

Maybe it is absurd, whether I can believe it that way?

In short, the apartments have their pitfalls. Everything doesn't work out, something always comes up. There is always something that doesn't fit.

After weeks of searching, it is clear: a house is needed!

I mentioned it before, a foreigner, a damn, crazy Mzungu, a white man is lost in Kenya. 

We are looking for a house, a place to stay for all of us! I have to repeat, we are two adults and two children.

The search is not that easy. The size has to fit, what is still important is the price!

The monster says: "The boy is big, in a short time he is going to university, then only the little one remains and I send her to my sister in Nairobi." 

Simple. Plain and simple.

I know her, I know that there is a lot of talk, most of it is said to make me happy, satisfied. It therefore has no special meaning for me. A 3 bedroom house is a must! End and end.

We are looking for in Nairobi and the surrounding area. We drive around, inspect, search. We find some houses that we would like. One thing must also be said here that some houses do not even exist, we only see a construction site, green around us.

I'm not rich, contrary to the Kenyan belief that all whites are rich. Maybe we are rich, not in money, maybe rich in experience. What do I know?

If you have enough money, you can choose it, that's true, there is only one thing I don't know whether a foreigner can own a house at all. The real estate agents who try to sell don't say anything, they don't care, the money matters to them.

We come back unsatisfied. Still no house, no view. The monster makes a long face. I notice, but don't say anything.

I am worried. Take a pencil, a piece of paper and start to put my thoughts on paper. What is written can be better analyzed. Soon I come to the conclusion that I can save half of it if I build the house myself. This has advantages, but also disadvantages. The advantage is that I can build a house the way I want and not a house that is a standard house. Downside, I have to take care of everything. It doesn't matter, I'm retired and have enough time.

Shakespeare wrote it in Hamlet when he had the gravedigger say: "No sooner have you been born, death begins." 

It is true that our life is like a house with two doors, we come in through one door, we go back through the other door. Our lives are far too short to play around with. On the other hand, people need a home, the only question is: 'where is my home?' Here I am a white man, a mzungu, a stranger. Don't speak the language. Can I be assimilated here? A white man in Kenya? Without money? Without future? Why should I build a house at all? A little story about it. Alexander the Great, of Macedonia, had subdued the world as far as India. In India he met a guru. He introduced himself. "I am the ruler of this world." That did not impress the guru. "You don't just own the piece of earth you are standing on." That was the guru's answer and he was right. We don't own anything possession is a superstition. Possession does not exist. Only in our imagination.

Man's great fault is that he has the freedom to repent every day and does not choose it.

These are my thoughts. 

A building site has to be found. Not easy either. When the blacks hear that a white man is looking for a building plot, this building plot suddenly becomes gold.

There are phone calls, questions go around, all of which takes time. The monster is in a hurry. Your mood has improved noticeably, that pleases me and calms me down too. Her scowl was not easy to bear.

To cut it short, the aunt has found a reason. Not that far from where we are now.

The next problem is the builder, Wajenzi or as the monster says Fundi. (I don't actually know the expression Wajenzi, everyone says Fundi.)

The monster knows him. "I met him when we were building here, and he was overseeing the building project."

"You built? Who built?" I ask, strangely touched. 

She tells me a story, it can be true, but it doesn't have to be. I leave it, there is no point in asking any further. Dear God, let the Fundi come!

And he's coming! 

We're sitting in the bar, I'll have a cold beer, that's good. It's late afternoon. The sun is still shining, but soon it will disappear behind the trees.

The fund is coming. The monster introduces him. The Fundi has a folder with him. He puts them on the table. He introduces himself. His name is Innocent. (I hope the name is spelled correctly). I have to laugh. He looks a bit strange, maybe confused because I laugh when he said his name.

"Innocent!" I yell out, "I'm not innocent!" 

The Fundi has to laugh too. He sits down. I explain to him why I am laughing. "Innocent has this meaning for me: you are free from guilt or sin especially through lack of knowledge of evil: blameless, an innocent child. And the Bible also says: let the children come to me, because theirs is the kingdom of heaven . "'

"Yes, I know, a strange name, but I have it." 

"Never mind, mine is no better."

The Fundi brought a plan of a house with them. He takes it out of a torn envelope.

"I've just come back from a building negotiation," he explains. 

The house on the blueprint is not what I want, the monster also has objections. But that doesn't matter, because we are looking for someone who can carry out the construction project, we can create the construction plan for it ourselves or announce our wishes.

So far so good. The first step is taken. We have a fund. Now we can take action.

At the end of a short story.

One died in Nairobi. He knocks on heavens door. Nobody open. He knocks louder. God heard it, calling Moses.

- Moses, what's going on, who is knocking on the door?

Moses is checking it. He came back.

-It's a Nairobi man, he wants to enter the heaven.

- Let this poor guy in and give him something to do.

The Nairobi man enters heaven. Moses give him a trimur instrument to play on a cloud.

The Nairobi man got cloud number 7 to sit on and the play music and to sing.

 - Hallelujah, the man sing very lite.

- Hallelujah, again, he sing it very lite and then he hear for an echo or answer but unfortunately he couldn't hear anything.

 - Hallelujah, this time louder.

Again he hear but no answer.

He becomes angry.

- Hallelujah, he cried out. 'Hallelujah again! Dawn hallelujah! ' No answer.

God hears that shouting.

- Moses, who is so much making notice?

Moses is checking it.

- It's the Nairobi man, my master.

-We must give him another job to do. That's good, actually I have one important task to do.

The man is called to God.

- Nairobi man, I have something important to do. This is a letter for the president, he's waiting for it. Go to him and deliver it.

The man takes the letter and leaving heaven. He's flying down to Nairobi. On the way he is passing some bars. He can smell the bear. He thinks, 'Let me have a beer.' And he enters a bar. He orders a bear. It is fresh and cold. He enjoys it very much. He thinks, 'OK, I should deliver this letter but I guess it can wait for some minutes more.' And he orders a second bear. He looks around, everyone is happy, smiling, laughing, drinking bear, enjoying life. He orders a next bear. He starts to sing. Other people sings with him. He orders a bear after the other. Life can be so nice! And he drinks one bear after the other .... And he forgot the letter, the advice from God to the president. And so the president is still waiting for the heaven advice.

A Foreigner In Kenya, Chapter 14

 

Kuzaliwa - Birthday 

The monster's birthday has to be celebrated. Not unlike in Europe, that's what I thought. But later I had to experience that this is not the case. If you have outgrown your infancy, it is no longer celebrated. Not bad either. You are only reminded that another year is over and that the way to the grave has become shorter. Because I'm dying, a little note. We have more churches and chapels than houses, more priests and monks than lay people. On every street corner you are offered counterfeit relics and reports of false miracles. Religion consists of absurd outward appearances, fraternity has died out for sheer brotherhood. In every corner of the normal, dilapidated, ignorant, superstitious land hangs a dirty picture of the Madonna. We go to confession every month, but in our viciousness we perish all of our days until we die. No pagan is as barbaric and criminal as we Christians. And already John (2:15) said: Do not love the world

Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the father is not in him. For everything in the world - the cravings of sinful man, the lust of his eyes and the boasting of what he has and does - comes not from the father but from the world. The world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will of God lives forever.

Let's leave that. It doesn't matter. Let me keep telling what happened next

A birthday party is needed! Every day I hear: "It's my birthday soon, what are we doing?"

Of course, an old man has no idea!

"Are you going to buy me a present?"

"I can buy you a little something," I say meekly.

I've lost my voice for a while! Old man where are you going

"I make a party!"

No contradiction allowed! End and pasta!

A cake is ordered. Big, green, with decorations and with an inscription, it must be, "Happy Birthday", then also your age. A lot of other things are also bought, everything else that is needed. A few bottles of wine should not be missing. We are terribly overloaded. Transporting it from the supermarket to your home is a real challenge. Half the matatu is full of shopping. The few people who still find space are amazed.

Kwanza nina furaha nitaimba na kucheza

Washa mishumaa weka keki juu ya meza

Oh ila usinicheke nimekuletea zawadi kidogo nilichobarikiwa

Aki mwana mpweke aje na dumu la maji asije kakumwagia

Ah ah na kapicha kako nitakoposti wasiokupenda itawacosti

Ah ah leo siku yako nishajikoki tuko rafiki zako tunasema

The day has come, this wonderful day, the birthday. I am determined that I have to cook. That's a little problem, I can't cook!

"Make Wiener Schnitzel !," determines the monster. It can not get easier. I would have done that before and it tasted good. So I cook it again.

The choice of meat is very important. Meat from animals injected with antibiotics should not be used. Now for the preparation

Let the pieces of meat (especially neck and stick chops) cut thicker. So you have enough time when frying to get a nice crust on the breading or on the meat; without the piece of meat frying. Set up a small breading street. One plate each with lightly beaten egg, flour and breadcrumbs (if you want, you can, for example, add a little salt / pepper to the egg / breadcrumbs)

Place the schnitzel in the flour on both sides (the flour ensures that the breading sticks better). Then knock off the flour well so that only a light layer of flour remains. Then pull through the egg and finally bread on both sides. Oil in the pan - a fine oil mixture is, for example, half butter, half organic olive oil. Bring the oil to medium heat and insert the breaded pieces of meat. Fry on both sides over medium heat. This is more convenient in a coated pan. But it also works well in a stainless steel pan.

That's how I intend to do it, but the butcher doesn't know what I want and what to do. This is how I get scraps of meat and not chops. Never mind, nobody knows the difference. (And now I'm hungry! Wiener Schnitzel, the national food of Austrians. In Italy it's called Escalope de Milanese, if I'm not mistaken.)

There are a lot of chefs in this world who claim to be able to prepare Wiener Schnitzel, but what they serve is anything but Wiener Schnitzel. That's the way it looks!

Jicksaw "helps" me cook. Active she stands in my way. Everyone is busy, the older daughter came with a skydiver. Skydiver also wants to help, but soon loses interest and prefers to play. Also good. The kitchen is cramped anyway and there are four of us trying desperately not to step on the other's feet. Jicksaw works like crazy. I just stand by and watch. That's how it works! I like it that way. That's how it should be.

This procedure is finally over. I can breathe easy. Jicksaw did it right, nobody was injured, we didn't have to go to the hospital either, so thank God, everything went well.

The monster and her daughter are still working, cooking Ugali and other things, setting up the table for the guests.

 Ah sinywagi pombe leo ntalewa niwape shonde waliochelewa

Zikinipanda monde nitapepewa ah pembe la ng'ombe au malewa

Ila usiforget kusema asante baba na mama walokukuza ukakua

Tunakupa na keki kwa wema akulinde baba maulana twakuombea na dua

Ah ah na kapicha kako nitakoposti wasiokupenda itawacosti

Ah ah leo siku yako nishajikoki tuko rafiki zako tunasema

"How many guests will be there?" I ask anxiously.

"Some," is the short answer.

I sneak away I know that I'm being watched, but no one is holding me back. They think I'm going to buy a birthday present, but far from it! I move quickly towards the bar. I need a beer! Nice cold beer!

Somehow I'm in a bad mood. The question that torments me is: am I invited or not? It seems strange to me. I don't know when the party starts, I don't know who's coming. What do i even know? All I know is that the monster has a birthday and is celebrating. That I made schnitzels. What else do i know? Yes, the most important of course, the beer is cold and that feels good.

Now I'm sitting in the bar, drinking a beer and watching a movie on my smartphone. Luckily they have wifi!

The beer will run out soon, my throat is dry, I feel out of place.

I'll have another beer, kill time. It's getting dark. The day comes to an end.

I decide to go. The celebration will now be over. I have not lost any of them. Not bad either.

Far from it, the party is still going on. I can hear the noise from afar.

I open the door, the living room is full of women. That must be around twenty women! It's hard to count, it's like the ocean, the waves come and go, it's never calm. They ate, were like locusts, left nothing. Or maybe! There are two scraps of carving in the kitchen. I eat them. Withdraw me They make a lot of noise!

Jicksaw is coming. "Come out, they want to see you!"

I go to the people. Only now can I admire these women. There are fat and thin, but all of them are beautiful.

The music is playing, I take the monster and try to dance with her, what I can't, just try. The women laugh, they clap their hands. After a few movements, I stop. Someone else wants to dance with me, but it goes very wrong. What I cannot do, cannot be done!

It is drunk. The monster sneaks through the ranks.

"How old are you today?" Someone would like to know.

She says her age. Then the woman takes a bottle of Coke and pours it over her head. Everyone screams, laughs, applauds! Everyone is happy, only the monster is a little nervous.

Kata keki kata 

oh kata 

kata kata unilishe

Keki ya jina lako

welsh na wenzako

tupo kwa ajili yako Kata unilishe

Oh basi kata 

oh kata 

Kata nipone 

kata 

Kata, Kata, Kata, Kata unilishe

Ah na kapicha kako nitakoposti

The party will be over soon. The food is gone, the drinks are gone, there is nothing left but to leave.

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday to you

Happy Birthday to you

A Foreigner In Kenya, Chapter 12

 Mto - The river

Somehow the river has become important, at least for me. There I could let off steam, give free rein to my thoughts. Because in the loneliness, as where everyone is turned back on himself, there it shows what he has in himself: there the drip in the purple sighs under the irremovable burden of his miserable individuality; while the highly gifted populates and animates the most desolate environment with his thoughts. In the plant are children, they become attentive, would like to know where I go. It is already noticeable, I go away every day, in the morning, then come back at noon. "Where are you going?" they ask me. "I go to the river," I answer. It didn't take long, just a few days, on weekends, they all went. The mothers are happy, finally they can relax a little. Only I have a problem, I have to watch out and it's not easy, who can watch out for some wild creatures, direct them? And me without experience! Off we go. Five children, two boys and three girls. One girl belongs to the Divine, the other girl is her granddaughter. We go the way we already know. Past the first church. The children see me again, leave everything, run out of the church, surround me, greet me. I shake hands with them all. We continue walking. A child finds a dead snake, that causes excitement! Of course, what else. The children don't walk along the path, they climb up the slope, jump down. It is a wild clamor. Some run ahead, others sneak behind. The big girl soon has enough. "How much farther is it?" she asks. "Not far." I've completely forgotten that I'm a mzungu, used to walking. After a few steps, she asks the same question. "We'll be there soon," I reply. And ask a stupid question, "Why?" "I can't go on," she answers with a sour face. "I am out of blood!" I laughed then. "So young and already out of blood!" The boys laugh at her. Finally, she moves on. The little girl is tired, I have to carry her. Smiling or even grinning, she sits on my shoulders. We reach the river, everyone is thrilled! I can say what I want, no one listens to me. The big girl gives the orders, the children follow her. With me they have absorbent cotton in their ears. They romp around, I can only try to avoid the worst, but that is not tolerated by the big girl. "We can take care of ourselves, we don't need you" She is upset and yells at me. I have to be careful that nothing happens. The river, or stream, is not deep, but the current is strong. If a child falls in there, it looks bad. Everyone stomps around in the water. I can only say : "Don't go there, it's slippery.... There's mud all over the place..." Whatever I say, nobody listens to me. They are all wet, their feet full of mud. They have to clean themselves first. "We're going home now," the tall one orders. We start walking home. "You guys are tired?," I ask. Of course, everyone is ko. "I know a shortcut, it's a shorter walk. Shall we go that one?" All are in favor. It's a slightly different path, we go a different way. A boy starts to cry. "What's wrong?" I ask him. He tells me something, don't understand it,need an interpreter, the big one has to help, she is in charge. "He says he wants to go home." "We are going home." "This is not the way!" How right he is. "Trust me, this way leads back, it's just shorter, we'll get back faster." Finally he stops crying. We keep walking. Nobody believes me that this way really leads back. But they do go, pants full, not daring to turn around to go the long way. I have to carry the little one, she is heavy and I am weak! I sweat, I run out of air, but she doesn't go, I can do what I want.

I wonder what the children learn at school. Somehow it seems strange to me. When I look at the children, at what is happening, I can only say that something is not quite as it should be. For a long time now, in the eyes of the parents and the children, the school has been nothing more than a machine for producing certificates, that is, positions. Maybe that's the problem. I also learned that the schools in Kenya seem to be run by a wide variety of churches. If that is true, then the church has suzerainty over education. Is that desirable? I can't imagine it is. The education of the young was more of a headache for him (Napoleon). Although he wanted to give religion a place, he did not think of leaving schooling to the churches, it was essential to form not believers but subjects, not theologians but people of the time. (Napoleon)

Foreigner In Kenya, Chapter 6

 A fine day in Nairobi, I was in the bar, had a beer, actually there were two, but what the heck, people were talking, it was loud, several televisions made us happy with a sports program that nobody was interested in. Suddenly an outcry. Someone had come from the street, ran out of breath, stood in the doorway, shouted: "People, traffic jam!" Everyone jumped up and ran out. The waiter afterwards, some had forgotten to pay. In a few minutes the bar was empty. I was alone. I asked the waiter, "What happened?" "It jams again." "And they want to avoid the traffic jam?" "No, they want to take part." I was just amazed. I drank another beer. Fresh and cold. After an hour they came back. They beamed all over their faces. Some had red cheeks, they were so excited. "How was it?" Asked the waiter. "Wonderful. We were stuck in a traffic jam, nobody could go forward, nobody backward, neither right nor left. We didn't leave any space. It was wonderful, wonderful!" That's the way it is in Nairobi. Traffic jam every day. The streets are full. Everyone knows it and yet everyone gets behind the wheel. Why do you do this to yourself? Some because they have to, others - and that's the majority - because they want to. It's the nouveau riche who drive big, fat cars, they have to be shown. Everyone has to see it, you can afford it! You don't belong to the large group of Matatu users, you drive your own car! Anyone stuck in a traffic jam will be seen and that is important. See and be seen. That's why you are completely relaxed when you arrive. It is always hoped that the neighbor in the traffic jam is someone you have never seen. That is the greatest happiness. People in traffic jams burn a lot of fuel, that's the same. At the same time it pollutes the environment. But what the heck, a little lead in the blood won't do any harm. What is harmful is not to be seen. You could also drive Matatu, that would save a lot, but the disadvantage is that you cannot run your own vehicle. And so it keeps building up. No life without traffic jams! Only those who accumulate live!