Lawyers, police, and criminals… oh my! (or nice guys, corrupt ineptitude, and smug success, oh my!)

(Written Wednesday April 25, 13:10 Kenya time – regarding earlier today)

There's an irony in this story in that over a conversation between Carol and the head of the Criminal Investigations Dept. for the regional Police, in which even through my stuffed up nose I couldn't help but smell the corruption, a calendar hung above the officers head protesting sexual harassment in the workplace, provided by none other than the Kenyan Anti Corruption Commission.

Allow me to paint a picture.

Still in Nakuru, we met for breakfast at 7am before our (ok their, I'm just tagging along of course) 8am appointment at the police station with the aforementioned head of the CID. At 8:00 we walked a few blocks through the morning rain and muddy streets, trudging past street vendors reluctantly setting up shop in the rain, people walking, bicycling and driving to work, school, or other morning business, and the stares I'm getting accustomed to of being one of the very few white people in this part of the world.

We arrived at the police station, where I immediately had to grab a photo of this sticker on the wall, which was immediately followed by getting harassed by the police for taking pictures in their station. I showed them the picture, promised not to take any more without asking, and was left alone. We waited probably 30 minutes for our appointment to show up, and finally he did. While we waited I observed that nearly everyone, even the janitors, wore suit jackets of some sort. Most were far too large for the people wearing them, further highlighted by the fact that most of the workers were incredibly skinny. Apparently it's quite important for the Kenyan people to dress their best, and they want to be quite formal. It was only at this observation that I asked about my casual dress (shorts and a t-shirt), and the first time that Carol thought it could be a problem. She asked her lawyer and was assured it wouldn't be, so I followed them in to their meeting.

The officers room is quite small, painted with a pastel-ish blue and green, with a few posters and calendars on the wall (see opening paragraph) and crooked photos of the chief of police and some high ranking military official. His desk appeared to be makeshift, but was covered with a red tablecloth. The chairs were old worn dark red velvet, and the floor a parquet hardwood that probably at one time was gorgeous. Unfortunately now the varnish is long gone, and as it is wet mopped every morning (as it was being when we entered), the water soaking into the wood has been less than kind to it. The officer sat behind his desk, and six of us sat on the other side. Carol, her lawyer, the chief of the Pokot tribe, two other Pokot who've been traveling with us, and myself, whitey, who was met with disapproving glances and an immediate request to explain my presence. Carol quickly explained I was a volunteer for the IHF and was only there as I had no where else to go, and would certainly take no pictures. I decided against asking him to smile for the birdy.

The purpose of this visit was to check on the status of the pending arrest of two individuals who the IHF have charged with stealing $70,000 USD from their bank account. Unfortunately the cops have failed miserably at apprehending the suspect, even though they've had two years and been told exactly where to find him repeatedly. The officer went on to explain one stake-out that lasted until 4am, and how just yesterday and the day before they planned on going to arrest him, but their cars were broken down so they couldn't. But they'd probably get to it today. After much arguing and headshaking on Carols part, it became clear that each of the three times Carol has flown to Kenya to meet with them, they were "just about to" go get the guy. But they never do. It became further clear that they really don't want to. The problem now, besides the obvious, is that the trial is set for May 3rd. If they go to trial and the suspect isn't there, the case will be dismissed. And according to Kenyan law, at that point, the suspect can sue the plaintiff for harassment! Fabulous system. So they arranged another meeting a week from now, and Carol has promised to sue not only the Kenyan police but the Kenyan government as well over this embarrassment and obvious lack of interest in her case. What really hurts her is that she came to this country to help; helps thousands of people, and yet is thanked like this by its government.

We left the station in a cold drizzle, a fitting end to the meeting.

That's probably the last post for a while

(Written Tuesday April 24, 18:42 Kenya time)

That may be the last post for a while. Tomorrow we go to Pokot and there ain't nuttin' out there.

I will write every day and post as soon as I have access!

The (paved) road to Nakuru

(Written Tuesday April 24, 16:13 Kenyan time)

I finally met Carol over breakfast this morning. She's doing much better, having been suffering from a severe headache and not the stomach ache I'd heard the night before. We spent the morning chatting about her other projects around the world and the intense drama that goes with them. More on that later though. For now, let's take a road-trip, shall we?

What a ride. And this was the paved road. The drive from Nairobi to Nakuru was, once out of the Nairobi city limits, insane. Caltrans could keep busy for a decade on this one road and never get it in shape. Lines were rarely seen. Passing on the shoulder (or what passes for one) was often seen. Near misses from oncoming semi's were rarely seen, but only because I found it more soothing to watch the hills, lakes, trees, monkeys, cows, and mountains than to peer through the windshield. On the occasions when I did, I turned white. Well OK that's not saying much considering where I am, but still. And the best part? Carol and everyone else thought it hysterical that I found this road bumpy. Apparently the road from Nakuru to Pokot isn't even paved. So it's worse. A lot worse. And something like a five hour drive (this one was two).

Goodness.

We arrived in Nakuru and had lunch at Subway. NO not that one, but this casual sit-down eatery made no qualms of exploiting the Subway name. Or font. Or colors. It's refreshing to not see McDonalds or Starbucks or Blockbuster everywhere you look, so the obviously appropriated Subway sign stood out that much more. Lunch consisted of fried chicken (quite good), and the same slaw and soggy fries from the night before. I think the Y FedEx'ed my leftovers from last night. Yummy. I did have one of my lemon Fanta's with lunch though, which was very nice. And another cup of milky Kenyan tea. Very delicious, however… there must be more caffeine in one cuppa Kenyan tea than 4 cups of American coffee. About half an hour after one cup I could feel my heartbeat in my throat, a repeat of this mornings experience with the same one cup of said tea. (Pictures: the Subway sign, and a fellow doing his laundry in the Subway bathroom)

What I didn't realize last night was that apparently we are NOT driving all the way to Pokot today. I knew they had a meeting with a lawyer here in Nakuru today, but didn't realized we'd be spending the night. We checked into the Carnation Hotel and stepped into something truly special. It makes the YMCA look posh. The nicest part of the room is the key ring; a cross section of a thick tree branch, branded and lacquered with the room number and hotel emblem. It goes downhill from there.

We also went to visit the land that Carol has purchased here in Nakuru, which Carol hopes to turn into a museum/cultural center and mid-grade hotel for safari goers. And what follows is what I've come to understand about the tribal politics as I bounced around the back of the van like a bobble headed grinning idiot all the way to Nakuru. (Picture: Carol's land)

There is prejudice, fighting, and even warring between tribes. The Pokot are considered pretty lowly by most of the other tribes, and as I discovered even in places like the Y, they will often not be served. To many Kenyans, the Pokot should be the servant people… the only way they should be in any establishment is as a servant. Sounds very much like a not-so-distant American history, where blacks weren't welcome anywhere, except here it's tribal not racial.

One of the reasons the Pokot are frowned upon is because they ("they" being this very particular East Pokot tribe which I'll be visiting and with whom I'm traveling) are refusing nearly all western advances. They still dress their traditional dress and follow their traditional ways – although they do dress the part when they go into town; the three gentlemen I'm traveling with are all dressed modern attire. But they even eschew electricity in their home. Although I'll see tomorrow how much of a fixed home they have, as the tribe is mostly nomadic… although I don't fully understand to what extent yet. What I do understand though is that for this reason they are scorned by other Kenyans. Most Kenyan tribes have adopted a western lifestyle and yet will don the ornaments of their ancestors to perform dinner shows at the Hilton. The Pokot refuse to do this; they basically refuse to sell out.

So back to the land and buildings that Carol has purchased. Her goal, and she has the permission and backing of the government, is to build the first school where tribal children are brought together to learn about each-other and celebrate their differences instead of patronizing them. If I understand correctly all or most of these children are orphans – often orphaned by the very battles between the tribes that I'm talking about here. Yet the children will come together to learn together.

The center will also be a resource for others looking for information on the various tribes. Apparently the U.N. has already contacted Carol and is interested in this project.

Anyway, Carol and the Pokot had to meet with their lawyer today on a lawsuit they are currently involved in; pressing murder charges on the father of a boy who killed his sons pregnant girlfriend. So we are staying in Nakuru tonight, and will be moving on to Pokot in the morning.

Before we leave in the morning though, we will be going shopping. Goat shopping. One of the big things Carol wants me to document is the true cost of purchasing a goat; apparently it costs $12 to buy a goat, yet most aid organizations claim it costs $120. That is, according to Carol, once all the padding is added to pay for the bloated salaries, new homes, fancy cars, and expensive lunches for the aid organizations executive staff. This is something I'll be learning and blogging more about as this continues.

For now, since we're in a town we found an internet cafe and hence the posts. The connection is slow but I will post a few pictures now; if you're reading this as I'm posting give it a minute and refresh… hopefully some pictures will show up.

(pictures: local Nakuru children)

Good morning, Kenya

(Written Tuesday April 24, 07:12 Kenyan time)

Didn't sleep too much last night. I thought I had slept quite a bit but once I gave up waiting for the sun and finally checked my clock, it was only 2am. Figures. I managed to get back to sleep two more times, but by 5am there was no way I was going back to sleep. I finally relented and quietly got out my laptop (there is of course power in Nairobi so I'm taking advantage of it while I can), and finished editing the "haircut" video. Yes, there is one.

Once Joshua woke up I took a shower and got dressed. More interesting conversations with the cultural differences this morning. For example, Joshua has never brushed his teeth with a toothbrush or toothpaste. He showed me a small tree branch with the tip frayed out (like bristles on a brush) and said he's used these sticks all his life. He doesn't recall the name of the tree, but it's a specific type. I remember hearing about this somewhere deep in my memory, and will have to find out what it's called. But the result? His teeth are probably in better condition than mine, and I can pretty much guarantee he's never had the thousands of dollars of dental work I have. Or fluoride in the water.

As I slathered on sunblock (which he obviously doesn't need) and mosquito repellant (which he doesn't use) and took my Neem tablets (which he'd never heard of), we got to discussing malarial prevention. He said that basically they just trust their immune bodies. Obviously this doesn't work for everyone as malaria is a big problem here, however he's never had a problem. And he pointed out that it's so hot that most people are running around half naked anyway.

Then he showed me some of his scarification. All over his chest he has a series of small scars that are for decoration. I'll definitely have to look into this more and get some pictures once we're in Pokot.

Off to breakfast.

First night in Kenya

(written Monday April 23 21:48 Kenyan time)

I have arrived! The trip out was boring and uneventful, as all good flights should be. When I landed in Nairobi, I went through passport control and got my visa ($50 cover charge for entry to Kenya). When I went to baggage claim, both bags were blissfully waiting for me, nothing missing. So definitely off to a good start. (picture: sunset on arrival in Kenya, from the air)

Customs was a bit more interesting though. The first agent was shaking his head quite vigorously at all my camera equipment, and went to get his supervisor. Once he arrived, he started to explain that to bring this much equipment into Kenya, that I must have arranged for it ahead of time and should have an "agent" in Kenya waiting for me with the proper paperwork. This is, of course, the first time I've ever heard of this. I told them that I discussed my trip at length with the Kenyan embassy in Los Angeles and that they said nothing of this. He went on to tell me that I would have to pay 1% tax on the value of the equipment, which I told him made sense if I was leaving it here but that I was bringing it back with me. I explained that I am a photographer, that this is my livelihood, and of course who I was here to see, etc. etc. He finally relented and said "Ok, this time I will let you go… but next time you must arrange an agent in Nairobi first". Oh good then.

On leaving customs I expected to see Carol waiting for me, as she had described herself in an email as "the only white 60 year old woman with a big smile on her face". However she was not there, but three Pokot that work with the IHF were there in her stead, with a big sign reading "Joseph IHF". Figured that was for me. The three guys are Joshua, Andrew, and Fred.

We headed out to an IHF van and loaded up my gear, then drove for probably 20 minutes into Nairobi to spend the night at the YMCA. The weather is quite nice; like a cool summer evening. However it will be much hotter once we get out to the valley.

It turns out that Carol is quite ill; she arrived yesterday (from Bangkok, I think), and has a terrible stomach ache. Hopefully nothing too serious. I still haven't met her; when Joshua knocked on her door and she answered, she sounded terrible, so we went on to eat without her.

We had dinner at the YMCA's kitchen. Fish, slightly breaded with a kind of jerk sauce on it, accompanied by cole slaw and soggy fries. The fries I could do without but the fish was quite good. We washed it all down with Fanta's. They have lemon Fanta here! They call it citron; now I know what to order next time. I grew up on that in Spain and you can't get it in the US. Dinner for four cost 820 Kenyan shillings. I think it's 70 shillings to the dollar. I should probably look that up. (pictures: Andrew [left] and Joshua [right] enjoying dinner)

Tomorrow morning we will drive to Nakuru, about two hours drive, where we get ready for the trip to the Pokot tribe, another 4 to 5 hours drive from there, depending on the road conditions. There have been rains lately (in fact it's raining right now), and apparently these are mostly unpaved roads so they get washed out pretty easily. Also while in Nakuru, Joshua said they have to meet with a lawyer to discuss some legal matters, so I really don't know how long we'll be there or when we'll actually get to the Pokot.

I'm sharing a room with Joshua, and we got to chatting about his name. His english, or western name, is Joshua, but his birth name is Nalaket. He explained that most children get an english name when they are baptized, but he did not. Instead he got one when he went to school, which was much later than most. He started the first grade around the age of 10, and at that time still had no western name. In school his "prefect" (student leader) was a fellow named Moses. When Moses moved on, Nalaket took his place. In searching for an English name to give himself, he read the story of Moses to see who succeeded Moses. That was Joshua. So, he took the name Joshua.

Quite a cool story; how many of us get to choose our own names?

Andrew's native name is Panga, and Joshua wasn't sure of Fred's native name.

Oh right - no cell coverage, even in Nairobi. Someone call Cingular and yell at them for me please? They said I'd be roaming fine here, however even though I can see three networks, they are all x'ed out in the list and when I select them they're listed as "for emergency calls only".

Time for bed. I took a few pictures of them at dinner as well.

Seriously Slim

Now on Brussels Air flight SN481, and boy is this a small seat! So far no one next to me... Hopefully we're not simply waiting for the Japanese Sumo team before embarking.


Aww, sorry Joe, I just realized I forgot to pack your script to read! Bugger :(


Ok this sick sniffles thing is really getting old. Sure hope it's only a 24 hour bug and will be gone when I land. All my drugs are obviously packed... who gets sick while still on the plane?! Me, apparently. sigh


Signing off. I'll try to post again when I land in Nairobi. From there, who knows what, if any, cell coverage I'll have.

Breakfast in Belgium

Huh, picture didn't post the first time… here we go again.

Funny, I'm logged on in Belgium and Google's Blogger is coming up in Belgish. Er, Dutch. French. Something. Good thing I speak Spanish.

Europe-land

Just landed in Brussels for another few-hour layover. 7am-ish local time. Sure is beautiful here. Gorgeous green countryside, picturesque towns, red roofs... lovely! I have a few hours to kill... waffles, anyone?
I managed some sleep on the way. Unfortunately though it would seem I have a bit of a sniffle and sore throat. Great.
New icon on the phone, must be 3G. Hm, guess I'll find out in a moment if I'm set up for it! New phone, by the way... Sony Ericsson W880i. Very slick.

In Chicago now

The first part of the trip is over (ok the easiest part!); I'm in Chicago on a few hour layover now. I'd post a picture but, you know… it's just an airport.

I stayed up all night last night packing and generally getting ready. And working on that Pelican case, which unfortunately didn't come together quite like I planned – but I'm getting what I need out of it. Here's a picture of the lid, where I've either epoxied or velcro'd everything in place. On the right are four Lexar FireWire readers, mounted sideways. These are glued in place. On the left are three firewire drives; the top one is a backup drive for the OS and applications, so I can recover on the road if needed (all personal files are backed up on systems back home and I don't need recovery on the road for those if I lose them). The lower two drives are the G-RAID MINI's, as primary and backup. All master files to go to the one then are backed up to the other. In the middle you see the MacBook Pro power supply velcro'd to the lide, and under that the little white box is a Belkin FireWire hub. The coil of cables underneath are the two FireWire cables coming off the Lexar readers (for the FW400 port) and off the drives/hub (FW400 to 800 for the 800 port).

The computer is living in the protective sleeve that came with the case, and the sunshade sits under that. I couldn't figure out a way of incorporating the shade into the lid with all the other stuff there, so I compromised and put a small velcro tab on the lid of my MacBook Pro to hold it when I want to use it. Not thrilled with the idea but at least it works.

So now to recharge the iPod and have a snack before the 8 hour flight to Brussels! I have a three hour layover there, so may try to go to the other side of customs to see the big Tintin rocket. I grew up on Tintin, and my friend Steve just sent me this picture from the airport there. Gotta see it ;-)

So, this is really it.

So, this is really it. I'm sitting at SJC waiting for my flight. I stayed up all night so I could get some sleep on the way. My baggage is borderline ridiculous, and I barely even brought any clothes! The tripod and solar panel took up most of my one suitcase that isn't dedicated to cameras; the rest is other odds and ends. Anyway... I'm glad to be rid of it to the baggage handlers. Now let's just hope it's all there on the other side.