Crescent Island, Lake Naivasha.

Our ticket to tour the island.
Along with 2 other visitors to MIA, and our driver for the return from Nairobi, a hot day, no hat( which I needed), and a bottle of water; our walk was richly rewarded.

Helpful map

House of Linda on the property.

A walk around the garden rewarded me with the sight of many familiar plants. Much to Linda's disgust, not in a real presentable form following the grazing visit of an Island resident, a Masai Giraffe; distinguished by the jagged spots on the body.

Masai Giraffe

View of the crescent, source of the name, remnant of a volcanic caldera.

On the right hand side of Lake Naivasha the island offers great views from the highest point.

The area is like a walk in the park where wildlife roam. I had no idea what to expect, but our guide added to our experience pointing out activities, animals and background for many things that would have been unknown otherwise.
With the lack of rain the grass cover has diminished and here above, Thomson's gazelle are sheltering from the heat of the day.
Zebra, Wildebeest, Masai Giraffe, Buffalo, Waterbuck, Dik Dik, Pelicans, Fish Eagle, but no rhino or Lions……would not have been walking..with them around. Buffalo were viewed at a distance.

Looking north

After a 7-8km round trip, we finished at a vantage point for the 360' viewing of the the surrounding countryside. Mt Longonot as a backdrop to one section of the Lake, then towards the east, over the Country  Club, and north overlooking the Hippo area.

Mt Longonot in the background

Resident flock of sheep with Fish Eagles keeping watch in the dead tree.

Fish Eagle nests in the Acacia.

One animal that would require a night visit at present not available would be the Aardvark. Our guide pointed out many spots of activity, holes in the ground looking for ants….. This required vigilance on my part trying to avoid the inevitable due to my clumsiness.

I thoroughly recommend a visit to Linda and her 'backyard'. Fantastic environment with an ever changing vista of birds, animals, lake and sky. 

Pleased to share with her Monstereo Deliciosa…fruit salad plant which she has ignored for her total occupancy until now, 30years on, a secret delight to the palate.

Following our thanks and goodbyes, we headed for a very late lunch at Delaware road side stop. Great for a snack, lunch, relaxing meal, stocking up with fresh fruit and veges, as well as a loo stop.
 It was a very busy 3 days, lots of travel, culminating in sharing a fabulous day visiting Crescent Island with Nana and Mel, Hezron the driver and Kijea. Much banter and laughter among friends. Thanks a million!

On the Buses to Tawa, Ukambani.

Tawa is where 'my' ladies who make the kiondo bags live.  It is a rural area from Machakos, probably the nearest big town.

After attending the ANZAC Day Dawn service , we headed into Nairobi central with our trusting taxi driver Philip, to the Machakos terminal.  We found the appropriate matatu and settled in our seats.

By this stage it was still early about 8.30.

Our journey started in the early morning rush hour crush( which seems to last all day in Nairobi), winding our way through back streets until we joined the main Highway to Mombasa. After a short while we turned off and headed to Machakos. This town is known for civic pride with flower beds framing the road. 

Landscaping at the major intersection to Machakos

At Machakos we had to change buses. The area was a hive of activity and we had to check which one was to Tawa. It was a normal sized bus, seats comfortable. There are 3 touts on these. The bus is used as a passenger and goods carrier. Yes, all the extras go on top. While sitting there, a large supply of long strips of steel were being loaded they would  have been 5-6 m long. Just thrown up and secured.

Action through my scratched window.

The seats were not all occupied and we headed off after the driver rev-ed the engine a number of times to ensure all passenger were aboard. After filling with fuel, off we went, our first stop Masii.

There was a market that day further on, so seats became a premium very quickly.

Miraah being dried before taking it to market.

I did not realise why there were 3 touts on these buses until now. One took the money and wrote tickets, the other two were responsible for loading the luggage, goods,  onto the roof. They often travelled up there as well..much to my dismay. Lots of people boarded in Masii, including men with dishes inverted on each other, containing miraah. There was a billy, nanny and 2 kids, tethered near the side of the bus. Before long I realised they were going up top as well. 

Poor kids! off to market.

They were up on top unseen as they were surrounded by boxes, bags, bedding and produce. Inside the bus was beginning to fill as well, pushing people to the back and the temperature was rising. Off we headed to the next small town where there was an exchange of passengers and goods.

 Our destination was soon so Kijea had our contact talk to the tout to find out exactly our stop.
The countryside here was more open, drier and not as tightly cultivated as in the highlands. Large river gorges, and winding roads were negotiated by the driver in a skilled manner considering the top heavy load we carried.
Kijea headed to the front of the bus and I relocated to the aisle seat and allowed a mum with babe in arms to sit by the window. The bus stopped near a group of houses and down came the steel rods with a clang.
Then I had the call that this was our stop. Trying to push by the people I wished I was 20kgs lighter….'mzungu' the touts called…encouraging people to let me by. When I looked back, there were 2 guys on the roof as the bus took off, with a couple clambering in the doorway. I could not see the goats but they were still up there.

3.5hours from Nairobi and we had arrived….

Gladys, our contact lady,  led us to meet the other ladies. 

It was wonderful to meet the ladies that supplied the bags to Australia.  We talked business, discussed new designs, said our goodbyes and we started our return journey. Such a long trip for a short time but a necessary one.

Heading back to the roadway, a bus whizzed by too quickly to think that we had been noticed. Thinking we could catch the next one but the bus suddenly screamed to a halt… ' I am not running for a bus!' was my comment on a hot day, so we walked smartly and 'squashed in' after goodbyes to Gladys. This bus would take us all the way to Nairobi.

I think every muscle was sore from trying to hold on. A kind guy gave me enough seat for one 'cheek' and I was secured there by ladies standing in the aisle: get the picture? As the number of passengers thinned out in the aisle, a sudden lurch of the bus had me launched towards the person opposite who pushed me back along with the man beside pulling me back. I ended up sitting , facing the passenger opposite to steady myself.

With the thought that I planned to make another trip to the ladies, an alternative would be necessary. 

Happy I have experienced it but you need to recognise when its worthwhile to repeat, not this one!

ANZAC Day, Nairobi.

As an Australian, absent from my homeland for this day, I felt it important to participate in a service somewhere. The Australian High Commission organises and hosts the service at the Nairobi War Cemetery.

Following a few emails, I was off to Nairobi the previous day as the Dawn Service starts at 6am sharp.

Arriving in the dark by taxi, Kijea and I found our way, along with other expats, New Zealanders and Government  officials representing other countries.

We were greeted at a table and handed a program, remembrance poppy, candle and rosemary with pin attached.

The walk up to the Cenotaph in the pre-dawn light was eerie, but tea lights in paper bags lined the grassy pathway between ashen headstones of the fallen.

The service was simple, proceeded like clockwork, and lacked none of the solemn and meaningful thoughts for this special day to us all.

At the end of the Service, those gathered were invited to a traditional Australian breakfast, including a 'nip' in the coffee. Lamingtons and ANZAC biscuits were on hand as well.

The early morning start was made up for by sharing this day with those gathered.

Kijea, I am sure has a greater understanding of this Australian and New Zealand tradition.

Experiencing a Kenyan Wedding. Dama weds Ivan.

There has been a flurry of activity ever since I arrived in Kenya, early March , culminating with the ceremony and festivities on Easter Sunday.

The bridal car suitably decorated, waiting for the bride.

Meru ceremonial welcome and escort from the entry gate. Kijea just had to join in.

The ceremony was due to start at 11.30 with the arrival of the bride at Mission 2. 

            The hall at Mission 2 decorated for the ceremony . Exquisite floral displays, rose petals 

scattered, candles and covered chairs all set the scene for a momentous occasion.

This mzungu, along with a couple of others, just had to rearrange the High Table. When set up it did not line up with the aisle, so we just moved it over…. unfortunately the heart of rose petals was beyond us.

Kijea, Ivan(groom) and myself awaiting the arrival of the bride.

As all the children of the orphanage were part of the ceremony, this was going to be bigger than Ben Hur! All suitably attired in new outfits for the day,  it was going to be nothing less than spectacular.

The procession started with the flower girls, followed by the group that formed a choir, then the bridal car, flanked by the Meru warriors, singing and dancing with the clanging of the bells on their calves.

Close up of the hand made ' leg bells'.

  

Dama was radiant in her favourite colour.

When the bride alighted from the car, the Meru women present broke out into a traditional welcome song, and threw down wraps for her to walk on to the door.

As with any well prepared function there can always be a hitch, and this was no different. Entry music , all prepared and timed to the minute was queued in the computer and DVD, but when the time came it was not present. The DJ was hastily summoned to provide an alternative. The children had to be encouraged to start by the compere and carers, as things had changed. Just go with the flow!

The children filed in and took their places.

Even the toddlers had a place and  strategically placed carers were on hand. 

Arrival of the Bride, flanked by her parents, supported by Bron her sponsor for many years.

 By now an hour had passed and the formal part of proceedings began. A representative of the Kenyan Government with authority to carry out civil ceremonies officiated. Likened to our Marriage Celebrant.

The most  touching part of the ceremony for me was at the end, when they were pronounced husband and wife, all the children clambered to received a hug from their Dad and Dama. Ivan has been the stability in their lives and they were extremely happy for him. Dama adds a new dimension to the large 'family', with love and care towards each one.

Dama,Ivan, Shania and Jumbe flanked by the Meru tribe in ceremonial dress.

Upon leaving the hall, and photos taken, the procession headed to the Cake tent. There was a flurry of activity to have it set up before the bride arrived.

Bride and Groom for the cake cutting.

All present were served a piece by the older girls and boys and then  the procession moved onto Mission 1 restaurant where the reception was held.

While the official photos were taken in the grounds the guests were served traditional fare smorgasbord style with staff of the orphanage helping serve.
Seats were a premium in the restaurant , with many resorting to sitting outside, on this beautiful sunny Kenyan day.
Kitchen staff were kept busy supplying food and plates and cutlery recycled with the number of people to be served.
During my time having lunch, the DJ was playing traditional music. Then Kijea told me a particular song was one he sang in church ( Catholic). I commented that I thought that it was slightly inappropriate as this was a SDA ceremony. The reply…was that it was the prerogative of the DJ what was played…. No one objected and I noticed there were a few people singing along to the track.
I headed to the kitchen to offer help and faced a mere mountain of plates, no hot water so a saucepan on a gas bottle was set up to overcome this shortfall.

Lois and I  washing up.

While we were in the kitchen, the Bride and Groom arrived into the restaurant. A small number of speeches followed which brought laughter through the door to us. 

A traditional welcome to the new couple.

The day finished into the night with dancing in the restaurant.

What an experience of a lifetime to be present at this function.

With all the children present on the day I do not recall a murmur from any of them including the toddlers during the lengthy time of the proceedings. One would hardly have known they were there. 

Small Project and a village experience in Kenyenya

Over the times that I have visited and lived in the Kenyan community,

it becomes obvious that there are a number of ways in helping people live a rewarding and sustainable life.

With this in mind, my focus has turned to introducing and or supporting existing small enterprises.

Kenyenya is relatively small village community in Kisii County, off the Kilgoris road from Mogungo. A hilly region of red fertile soil, intensively farmed small-acre holdings with tea, sugar cane, beans, maize, coffee cultivated, that offers limited opportunities for subsistence townsfolk.
Helping a group of women in a small project to enable them to improve their lifestyle, support family members and work towards financial security has become a meaningful goal on my behalf.

Procuring the ingredients for making Bees wax soap was my first hurdle.
Through a friend I purchased a bucket of 'bees wax'.
with 24hrs before my first visit and demonstration, I lifted the lid on the bucket!

Oh my what did I have … definitely not what I thought I had purchased.
a pot of ??? best I attempt to refine it

Ok boiling it up with water added, I could see some wax there...

I think what I had been sold was a mixture of the rubbish from the hive, traces of wax, dead bees and honey…

Best change the soap recipe..olive oil, coconut oil and rice bran oil…did all my calculations and off I went with new notes.( my ladies were expecting me)

This is the bus station in Kisi town. I marvel at this sight everytime I go through a station…the sellers with boxes of goods for sale.

 Bus stations always offer distractions while waiting for the last few passengers to arrive before departure. Kisii is always a hive(excuse the reference) of activity. anything from papers, sodas, cold or warm, locks, belts, biscuits, gum, watches, fruit, especially bananas, socks, and handkerchiefs, can be offered through your window either open or shut. The venders will keep asking until you acknowledge them with a nod or mouthe 'no thanks'.

Onto Kenyenya with our luggage, bag of Irish potatoes for Kijea's family, stainless steel pot full of utensils for the soap making as well as a backpack with the oils etc. an overnight bag, as well as a parcel for my Maasai lady. This matatu was one that just keeps filling up…..yes cannot avoid them.

I was a bit surprised when at one stage there would have been 5 guys with their heads in the open door and hanging on, bent in half and their behinds out the door….On that particular day limited transport was available adding to the problem created by the new strict registration rules having forced many off the road.

Looking down the 'main street' of Kenyenya.

On arrival approx 2.30 pm, we unpacked and then it seemed half Kenyenya arrived to say hello along with ladies for the project and see the mzungu. Children stuck their heads in the door and ducked back quickly, giggling, if I caught their eye. Later in the afternoon we walked down to the market area of Kenyenya. In these villages, the fresh food market is visited daily as without electricity and refrigeration, food storage is a problem. On my walk through the market I was introduced to many friends and relatives or neighbours of Nyaboke. There appears to be some relationship between anybody and everybody here.

Me in the market at a typical stall

This white bait fish stall is just one of a few in this market. I suppose clients have a favourite seller they support.

Another fish seller who wanted a photo taken

This is Helen's (in red)stall, selling sugar and cooking oil. Nyamboke is proudly using her new bag.

Walking through the market was really an eye opener realising that small amounts of tea, sugar, tomatoes for example,are purchased at one visit. Seems a long way from our shopping expeditions with a car load to unpack and a huge price to match. The daily visit, I am sure has the effect of bringing the community close together as in villages like this in many countries.
Hand shaking is a welcome hello guesture here, and many children were encouraged to meet the mzungu. Unfortunately some were rather timid and brought to tears with the encouragement by mothers' to meet me. 
Kijea wore his cap from Bathurst 1000 2013, and caused quite a stir, many friends wanted to swap but he managed to keep it.


Dinner on the first night was mashed potatoes and a savoury rice. Kijea had told his mum that I did not like ugali, made from maize flour and a staple for the Kenyans. I describe it like eating tasteless thick gluey textured porridge., used as a substitute for bread, rice, pasta in the diet.
I have found Kenyans heavy handed with salt and sugar in cooking.
Kenyan tea is an acquired taste. Made with a base of fresh milk, boiled for some time, tea leaves added( not nearly as strong as we have), some water and sugar to taste(not mine). Not sure I will get used to it as I like mine black and no sugar….

Here Nyaboke is in her kitchen, straining the 'tea' to remove tea leaves , then it is placed in a thermos for serving.
The fire in the corner of the room, no chimney, dirt floor, water in drums carried from the creek down the hill, is such a contrast to what I have to go back to in Australia.

Small portion of the property, typically with various houses scattered on it.

this is my obstacle course to the loo…. over the rail I almost did a face plant when my foot was caught.

I was asked 'would you like to wash your body'?  'That would be nice thank you .' On gathering the necessities for this activity, I was escorted down to the kitchen area and given a dish of warm water. With Nyamboke's help, then negotiated  the fence to the wash room beside the toilet… A concrete floor and a small drain hole in one corner….As it was a cold morning, the warm water was appreciated to wash away some of the local dust and freshen up after my matatu rides.

The ladies arrived to start at 9am , so I was very busy finding a place suitable in the shade.
A leaning bougainvillaea  tree, provided the necessary spot.
Having to change the recipe at the last minute I was hopeful all would be well as I headed into the unknown. Having done my calculations for the ingredients, all was well until we got to the caustic soda and water. It did not act as expected surprise, surprise. It did not heat up, so I put it on the heat provided by the charcoal stove, jiko, to get it to the oil temperature, no go. So I decided to combine the two and hope for the best. Bit more of a temperature difference than desired.

Then the fun started, I stood, stirred, whisked the mixture for about 2.5hrs. Yes you may laugh , but here Ann is helping as I was obviously fading. No stick mixers here just good hard muscle work... I had purchased plasic lunch boxes to use as moulds to set the soap in. It did get to trace so we set it aside until the next morning. I did have a little prayer that it would set.

The result of our work setting in the boxes. The sticks across are to prevent the towel ending up in the soap while it sets overnight.

The soap did set however I realised that obtaining the ingredients was a major hurdle. Nakuru only had one place where I could purchase coconut oil, and sending it just added to the costs. I realised that I would have to rethink this project. The input costs just were prohibitive to the financial success. 
Back to the drawing board. I did not want to disappoint the ladies so I must come up with something to fulfil their enthusiasm for the project.

In the afternoon Kijea and I visited some friends to say Hi and had a drink at the local. On returning home I found my way to the kitchen where a chicken was being prepared, plucked, singed over the open fire. atching it being dismembered was interesting. Nothing wasted.
First the craw was sectioned off, legs and thighs removed as with the wings.No table or bench was used , just held up. The neck was cut down the side( head still attacked) now do not get squirmy…then Mum and daughter had a tug of war with fingers in the area of the wishbone: pulling the carcass in half with all the 'guts' intact… very impressive…no blood spilt.
The 'about to be laid eggs' were removed from their sack and placed aside, the 
intestines were removed of the vital organs, the gizzard being cleaned out and washed and left whole. The remaining pieces of chicken were cut into smaller pieces and all washed thoroughly and placed in the pot for cooking. This was served with chips..All done by the light of a small kerosene lamp assisted with my headlight. I gave it to Kwamboka for which she was very happy. I also left a pair of 1.5 magnification glasses for Nyamboke. There are lots here who do not have access to basic health needs and eyes are a simple one to help with.

This view from the kitchen window summed it all up for me!

How does one answer a question of my opinion of the kitchen  to someone who uses it everyday and copes with the conditions with charm and grace but has no idea of many alternatives?

Family around the fire in the corner of the kitchen . Wood is not cut into small lengths , just fed in as it burns. I am concerned for the small boy Edward sitting so close to the fire as I can now understand why so many children suffer burns from fire or hot liquids.

My time in Kenyenya finished with a matatu ride back to Kisii and a 3 hour wait in the cloak room of the station for a matatu back to Nakuru. I will always remember the warm welcome from all and those wanting to stop and talk to me in the street.

Now for some homework for the project on soap making