This ain't no Nairobi...

Cairo, Egypt.
After more than a month in East Africa, you kind of automatically think that all light skin folks are tourists. So, not a few hours after I got to Cairo, while I was walking in the streets... For a brief moments in my head, I was thinking, "Man..., there is a lot of tourist here?!" But, of course... they are all Egyptians.

It took a little adjustment to get used to Cairo; I mean, you can actually walked the street without looking over your shoulders all the time. The place is like heaven, if you compared it to my four days in Nairobi. Is a relief to be able to let your guard down. You got to be an idiot to commit a crime in this country, because they have like a police at just about every street corners here, each with his own AK-47.

Minya, Egypt.
We got into the city, and find ourselves having problem finding a hotel that will take us. It is either "full" or the price is outrageously expensive, that they might as well tell us to go away. We were starting to wonder why, but we finally find this little place, and we thought nothing of it. The place is so nice and quite, the people were quite friendly, there is not a tourist, nor a souvenir shop in sight, and they have some dame good ice-cream.

So..., on our second day here, we venture out to some of the sights outside of town. That's when the police took notice of us, and decided to escort us to the sights. Being the low season, and we are the only one that showed up that day (prob. for that whole week as well), we got all their undivided attention. We even got a free ride back from one of the sites, sitting in the back of the pickup with five to six guys, all with their own machine guns. We weren't sure just what we got ourselves into, and are a bit nervous, and the guys picked up on that and joked amount themselves in Arabic, which made us a bit more nervous... Do they want some baksheesh (tips/bribe), we don't know., and we just acted dumb, and pretended not understanding anything we heard that resemble English.

Finally, they put us in a bus and send us back to Minya. We thought that was it, and that's when the pickup pulled in front of us, and decided to escort us back to town (slowly), to the annoyance of the driver, and the rest of the passengers. That's when we got very nervous, and started to take the big bills out of our wallet, and hide it. When we got back to town, they followed us back to the hotel and left after talking to the hotel owner.

When we finally left the following day, the hotel owner wouldn't let us walk to the train station until the police gets there. We left anyway, fearing more troubles/escorts from the police. Feel kind of bad for getting the hotel guy in trouble, but we really don't need a couple guys with guns walking us through town (it is only 100 meters to the train station). Now we know, why the other hotels didn't like to take us.... .

Farafa Oasis, Egypt.
Got to this small town all by myself, and got the interested of the local police right off the bus. Don't know much about Arabic, but I am sure that I was the topic on the police radio there. I think I maybe the only foreigner there for that day. When I decided not to stay in the town's only hotel there, the police just couldn't figure out what to do with me. So... they decided to send 2 guys to follow/guard me all day.

It was really annoying..... I tried shaking them loose while roaming through the town's Date-Palm gardens/plantations, and I did managed to loose them. However, My freedom was short lived. The town was so small that I managed to run into them again, not five minutes later. The two guys were very nice, and I don't think they like the idea of walking in the desert heat in the middle of the day (like some certain tourist). My repeated attempt to sent them away failed (I think they just pretended not understanding what I was saying).

So .... finally, after an hour of being escorted by the two guys, I had enough. I walked into the police station, and found the guy with the most gold-plated buttons/metals on his uniform sitting in the biggest office (police chief?), and told him that I don't really need all this protection, and if I am just going to be followed, I might just as well find a place in the station to read a book. Good thing, this guy knows English. They left me alone for the rest of my day there.

The Egyptian Horns,
You know people like playing with their car horns here. In China, the drivers just like to press them all the time. In East Africa, they like them LOUD. Some Matatu (a type of suicidal mini-bus) drivers in Nairobi fits like fog-horns on to their vehicles. Which sounded like a boat coming to port. Which confused me for a few brief moments, while I first got there. "I didn't know there is a sea port in Nairobi? Wait a minute, it's nowhere near the ocean..., Maybe a river? Noo...."

Well.... The Egyptian drivers. They know their horns. They treat it like a musical instrument. These guys can play a musical number with the horns if they wanted to. "BEEP,...Bep...Beppee.....". It is a riot, if you see them parading along the town centers in weddings.... along with all the drums. One down side, if you want to sleep.

The Rest of Egypt
I really should tell you a little bit more about the rest of Egypt, the part about the Pyramids and the Tombs. Yeah.... They are pretty nice, looked just like the pictures. A little disappointing at some places, because quite a few of the relics had been taken away to Europe long ago. The Temple of Ramses II @ Abu Simbal is probably the best of them all. Save that for last, or you'll get real bored with the rest... .

More On Egypt

Yes...I am still in Egypt. My flight out of here is delayed till the 20th!! I thought my flight out of here was today, but the airline lady in Nairobi had apparently put me on the waiting list. All this time I thought it was Okayed, that's until I called to confirm my flight. Arhhh....Get me out of here. The place is like 40 deg C out there, my only refuge is this Internet cafe (with air conditioning!!).

Cairo, is a very nice city, but after seven or eight days, I had seen all the sights, stroll around the city more than anyone I know... I am just tired. Tired of the heat, tired of the flies (I called it the "Egyptian Alarm Clock", since they usually wakes you up before anything else). Went to see the Camel Market outside the city yesterday. Interesting place. "Not one for the animal lovers" said in the guide book. I have to admit, they are right. Tying up one of their legs, so they walk slower is one thing, beating them with a stick is another, jabbing a stick to their genitals to wake them up from exhaustion is one that will make a lot of people cringed. And then there are the rejects (diseased, injured...) outside the markets, with a reject sign painted on them, and flies hovering their wounds....

You always hear about this incredible bond between the horseman/nomads and their horse/camels, but after seeing horsemen (in China) throwing rocks at their horse's genitals just for fun and then the camel market in Cairo, I think I got a feeling some Victorian writers (or National Geographic, for that matter) just made those up for good reading.

A good place for a bit of reality, after weeks of tourist attractions. I think I am ready to watch a bull fight in Spain now... If I have time...I'll still be going home on the 25th, as planned. Days in Spain just got cut shorter and shorter still.

Birqash, Egypt

Birquash Camel Market (souq al-gamaal) is some 30 kilometers northwest of Cairo, sitting on the edge of rural Egypt. I read about it on the LP Bible, and it just caught my attention as the place to go, the place to see a bit of rural Cairo.

The guide book gave out three options on how to get there: a easy $10 taxi ride, a cheaper option of a well organized hotel bus, or the one that relies totally on public transport. Having developed a taste for sampling the local transports in the last few months, I choose the latter.

"Come on, I been in Egypt for month now..., this will be piece of cake."

Friday Morning
It was not to be. Not an hour after I left the hotel that morning, I was lost. I ended up standing on the side of the freeway near Mohandiseen, screaming "Souq al-gamaal!!" to all the passing cars, hoping I will get lucky. After fifteen minute of waiting, screaming, and waving my arms... I gave up.

Take the bus to Mohandiseen, find a certain sign and this cafe, and wait there for a microbus to pick you up...The book said. Well... I didn't find no sign. and I certainly didn't find no cafe. I tried asking around, but it seems like every one is pointing me to a different direction then the last guy. It was going nowhere.

It was getting close to noon, and it's getting hot. I can feel that dust grinding into my skin, every time I tried to wipe the sweat off my face. With the tail between my legs, I hoop back on to that bus that bought me here, and went back to the hotel for that shower. I was tired and defeated, and all I want is to lie in my bed for the rest of the afternoon and hope that when I wake up, it'll be nice and cool, and this day is over and forgotten.

That night, I went about doing my homework. Finding what I can from the internet, and asking for all the information from the hotel staff as I can, and practiced saying "souq al-gamaal" and "Biraquash" over and over again, in all the tonal ranges. I had a suspicion, that my so-call Arabic deteriorates rather quickly as my voice raise to the levels of screaming. The hotel staff find some great amusement in this, but I was determined to tried again.

Monday Morning
It was Monday morning, the camel market is supposed to be at it's most active day, and I will be leaving Egypt in 24 hours. This was to be my last chance to go see the camels.

I sat on that same bus that took me to Mohandiseen, and arrived at the bus stop arm with my new found confidence, and a "authentic" Arabic accent, and a piece of paper with the word "souq al-gamaal" and "Birquash" written in Arabic (courtesy of the hotel staff, sympathy for the fool). Soon, the bus station manager delivered me to this microbus driver across the street.

"Souq al-gamaal. Go, go with him."

I thanked him and hopped on, and the microbus took off. "Piece of cake." Very please with myself, "It's all in the preparations..., Lawrence"

"Souq al-gamaal?!...", one of the passenger questioned, before I can remember how to say "yes" in Arabic, a conversation between him and the bus driver followed... It was all in Arabic, but I can sensed that I just may be in the wrong bus. Sure enough, the minibus stopped., and the driver took enough time to delivered me to this new minibus park on the side of the street, after a few words with this other driver, he pointed at this bus, and motioned me to get in.

"Oh no, Not again..." A repeat of what happened two days ago, seem almost inevitable. But having no idea where I am anymore. I figured I'll just go and let see where I just might end up. I hoop on, and ask, "Souq al-gamaal?"

"Yes, yes, yes...", The driver replied.

The minibus took off after some minutes of waiting, and headed back to the direction that we came...Couple minutes later, we came to a stop at this dirt field next to a train track. and pointed to this other microbus parked not too far ahead, and said:

"Souq al-gamaal. That one."

"Here we go again...What is this? My fourth?...", Wondering how many buses I'll have to get on, before I can go see my camels. I got off and ran to this new bus, and hopped in and hope for the best.

The first ting that caught my eyes , as I hopped onto the bus, was that almost everyone of these guys in the van were all carrying some kind of sticks with them. "The sticks were for beating off the the camels, because they can get quite aggressive..." It is just as I remembered from this travelogue that I read on the internet, over the weekend.

"Yes!! This... GOT to be the one!!" Boy, was I happy.

The problem is, the bus is already full. I looked around, and find these railings near the door. I sat on one of them, and proceeded to wrap my legs and arms around the railings and getting myself ready for my dose of rural Egypt. After all this trouble, I don't care about no dame seats, you can strap me to the roof, but I am NOT getting off this bus.

Leaning on this only "seat" that were available in front of the van, and with me facing the back of the bus. I looked up, and found a dozen pairs of eyes all looking this way, checking out this strange new arrival. I put on a smile, and nodded in return.

It didn't stop them from looking.

I did get to see my camels. There is just so much activity there, I spend some four hours there all together. Watching them loading camels onto trucks, negotiating the prices, and dads teaching their kids on the camel trade. It was amazing. Good thing I took the bus, there is no way that a taxi driver would of waited for me for that long.

Where U R?

How do you know when U R in Egypt?
When your driver stops the car in the middle of the road, and goes off to have his noon prayer with the engine running.

This is exactly what happened!! Not ten minutes after I touch down in Cairo. The bus driver stopped the bus in the middle of this busy street, and politely ask all the passengers to wait for a few minutes, while he walked to a nearby Mosque for his Noon-Prayer. We (the few backpackers on the bus) watched the whole thing in awe.

We have arrived, and THIS must of be Egypt.

How do you know when U R in China?
When you are sitting in a restaurant and realized that there is no sight of the familiar salt and pepper shaker on the table, but a bowl of MSG (Monosodium Glutamate).

How do you know when U R in Nairobi, Kenya?
Your rather go hungry though the night, than to walk across the street at night to get some food.

How do you know when U R in Tanzania?
When the cook serves you afternoon tea in the middle on nowhere dressing in white and with a mushroom hat on his head.

Nairobian Nights

Well... that first night at Nairobi was certainly the most memorable of them all. Felt so special being escorted by so many.

Since then I had made some friends that can accompany each other to go out for dinner together now. Met this Finnish guy, who is finishing his three months of volunteer work here in Nairobi, who had been to Nairobi three times(3 days total), and got his watch torn out of his wrist, while under escort by a Nairobian friend. And then there is this Peace Corp guy that told me, that 70% of his co-workers here got robbed while they were here.

So.., I figure that I'll meet my robber eventually ...You know, the U.N. got a rating system for the cities around the world, and Nairobi was rated "C", a rating reserve for cities that just came out of a civil war or something. U.N. personals works in this Nairobi actually gets "hazardous pay"....Go figure.

On my second night there, I think I heard my first gun shoot there. Which brings out another interesting fact about this city, that 90% of all gun shoot death are done by the police. Hmmm??... Which is why most shops have their own private security guards. I think I landed in the wrong side of town.

My third night there, one of the guy working at the guest house took me to a local bar. After a couple beers, he decided to teach me how to spot a prostitute. Which isn't too hard, considering the fact that 90% of the women there is. I am definitely @ the wrong side of town.

It is strange that, now I am out of Nairobi, and I still haven't got robbed yet. I think I might have been followed for a couple times, but by keeping a look over your shoulder at all times, and crossing the streets unexpectedly, and walk at some random speed, you can avoid most troubles.

But, I think my crime free experience there so far may have something to do with... Yes! you guessed it, Bruce Lee. Along with Jet Lee, Jacky Chang, and all those forgotten Kong-Fu stars from Taiwan and Hong Kong. They somehow managed to saturated the whole world, and made everyone think that I know Kong-Fu. I had kids running back to their home, and brings me his favorite Bruce Lee tape, when they founded out I am from China. Not to mention all those Kong-Fu moves demonstrations.... It's hard to convince them that I really don't know a thing about Kong-Fu. But Hey, it's good not to get robbed.

The National Bird
The National Museum in Nairobi has one of the finest collection of stuffed birds I had seen in my travel(the one in China are just pathetic at best). It had 900 specimens of the 1800 species living in Kenya. When I asked to see the national bird of Kenya is, my guide laughed. It is not the ostrich, not the vulture, not the kite,...it's a dame chicken. To be specific, the roaster. It is inscribe on its national seal, coins, bills.... Well... Okay, maybe it is not officially its national bird, it is actually the mascot of its leading political party. But still... a chicken? Come on, guys....you got like 1800 species to chose from....

The National Dish
If you just wandering about Nairobi for a significant amount of time, you would think that the whole country eats nothing but chicken and chips. There is fast food restaurant at every street corners that serves roast chicken, fried chicken, BBQ chicken.... This country that just loves the chicken. :-) Well...that's what I ate for four days....Chicken and chips, Curry chicken and rice, Chicken in tomato sauce...( Funny stuff aside, outside of Nairobi, they ate mostly on maze, potatoes, bananas,...very little chicken, or meat, because it's pretty expensive)

Search for the Honey Badgers
Nope.... still haven't seen one yet. The closest I ever got was a stuffed one in the National Museum. Lot less interesting than the real thing I am sured, but.....Oh well ...

The Coca-Cola Invasion
When I first saw the movie "The God must be Crazy", I got a pretty good laughed at how a Coke bottle changed the life of a bush man in the middle of nowhere. After spending nearly a month in East Africa, that Coke bottle just took on a totally different meaning for me.

It dawned on me while I was doing my walks around town in Moshi. I was standing on the side of the street, drinking a Coke to quench my thirst. I looked around and must of saw at lease twenty Coca-Cola signs lining the streets. It's everywhere!! Red and white, red and white, red and white...... Every store signs had a Coke Logo beside it(The Coca-Cola Company has a program of printing out free signs for just every stores that sell Coke here). You will not be able to walk around town with out seeing one of those Red-n-White signs. I tried once, when I was on my way to Dar-Es-Salaam from Moshi to find out if I can go the whole way with out seeing a Coke sign. I was pretty happy to find U can actually go for 10-15 minutes without seeing one. That is before I spotted a duffel bag with a Coke logo in the overhead bins.... There is no escape.

The thing is, I am drinking more Coke than ever. I may had drank it once or twice, when I was in China(two and a half month), but now I am drinking it for lunch, for dinner....two or three bottles a day. The stuff is cheaper than bottle water.

You Pepsi fans may want to skip East Africa. The Peace Corp guy I am traveling with was just so glad to find some Pepsi here in Cairo, after spending 2 years in Coke Country. The funny thing is.... right outside of our hotel lobby window, there is this huge 3 stories high neon sign, flashing the familiar Red-n-White sign... Here we are, living under the biggest Coke logo in town (the whole Egypt?).

Riding of the Matatu

Most people Came to Kenya for the wildlife, I came for the Matatu.

Having first read about them on the Lonely Planet, I was immediately intrigued. I had seen some of its relatives cruising the streets in Tanzania, and even rode on one of its distant cousins, call the Dalla-Dallas. But, a Dalla-Dalla is Dalla-Dalla, NOT a Matatu. A Matatu is a totally different kind of beast all together, as far as transports are concerned....This is a totally unique specie, indigenous only to Kenya.


How to Survive a Matatu East Africa, Lonely Planet



Matatus are more than just transport. They are Kenya's contribution to world culture, These gaudily painted minibuses with 200-decibel stereo systems have a crew of three: the driver, who normally hasn't slept for three days, keeping himself going by chewing miraa shoots; the conductor, who extracts fares from reluctant passengers; and the tout, a veritable Daddy Cool whose aerial gymnastics on the outside of the minibus ought to be an Olympic event. Governmental efforts to regulate the matatu industry have reduced decibel levels, but not much more,

Matatu travel is not exactly a bed of roses. In fact, as one look at the Daily Nation will tell you, the beds most often associated with matatus are the ones in hospitals, so there are a few rules and principles you should be aware of:

Under no circumstances allow yourself to be placed in the 'Death Seat' next to the driver - extra leg-room and the occasional shoot of miraa do not outweigh the disadvantage of certain death in the event of a head-on collision.


Just which are the best seats in a matatu is debatable. The two rows behind the driver should be avoided for safety reasons, while the back seat is a pain in the neck for tall people. Sitting next to the window is OK, but you'll bang your head when crossing rough ground. Wedged in like a sardine on the middle two seats in the second row from the back you'll be better protected in the event of a head-on collision, overturning on 'a sharp corner or any end-over-end Evil Knevel-type stunts. Fight for these seats.


Don't voluntarily get into a matatu named 'Death or Glory', 'White Lightning', 'Get in & Die', 'Velocity' or 'Beat the Reaper' for obvious reasons.


Valium is available over the counter in Kenya.


Avoid night journeys because of drunk drivers and the lack of adequate/any lights on many vehicles. However, it's been suggested that matatu standard operating procedure (overtaking on blind bends, below the crest of steep hills etc) makes traveling at night a safer option. At least headlights warn of an oncoming vehicle, if it has any headlights ...


If the locals look nervous you have a problem.


Engine ignition can occur 45 minutes before you leave and is simply a method of attracting passing trade. The same goes for a sudden, but slow, departure (often just a tour of the bus station). Up to five changes of driver may occur during this stage.


There is always room for one more.


Getting into a passing half-empty matatu is not always a good idea if the crew is just trawling the streets in an effort to fill the vehicle. At the bus station numerous touts will try and fill the vehicle which will speed up your journey. Not that it'll require much speeding up.


A pot-holed road is a good road. It slows you down.



Having spend all my money on climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro, and the Safari. With little time and money left, I had decided this will be my next cheap thrill. I was not disappointed.

Night 1,
Having made my way to the hostel under police escort, I decided to sit in, and wait for morning. Having spend nearly 12 hours on a bus between Dar es Salaam and Nairobi, and having little to eat. I settled in at the stringy little hotel lobby, to watch a little TV. The news came on ....

"Five killed in accident in Naivasha, this morning . . .. over turned. 11 other were injured. . . "

A mangled body of a Nissan van were shown being pushed to the side of the road . . ..

Groop,....My heart sank like a stone. This all together is getting a little too real now.

I tried not to think too much about it, thinking that. "There must be thousands of these Matatus out there, and one in a thousand, is really statistically insignificant....Yeah...that's right...."

The power went out later that night...

"It is not really safe to go out there in the dark...", the hotel manger said. We really didn't need to get reminded. Living on the notorious River Road, you learn to smarten up REAL quick. Pulled out my head lamp, I started on this new novel I bought, "The Clan of the Cave Bear".

"Boom, Boom ... .Boom ...: The sound of a sub-woofer rocked the windows, and flashing neon color light shine right thought the dusty glass, and lit up the whole room. My brain immediately registered that, something interesting is happening out there.....

I walked over to the window, and saw the most beautiful thing I had saw in the whole Nairobi. Brightly painted in red and yellow, lit with flashing neon lights in it's roof, and under the floor...that van just looked awesome. You can see all the passengers sitting inside, with their white shirts all brightly lit with the black lights. It is like a disco club on wheels.

It's a Matatu!! The very thing I came to see.

It passed in front of the hotel, and managed to lit up the whole neighborhood with its neon lights, ....It was just beautiful!! ... and my desired was again rekindled.

Night 2,
Looking out side the window, from a second story bar. We saw one Matatu after another passing beneath us, each a little different than the next. Playing a different tune, Bob Marley, Jennifer Lopez,....

"Have you tried it yet?", my roommate asked, knowing I am a newbie.

"No. . ., I read about them."

"You have ta, its bloody outrageous. . .." Having spend three months here already, the Norwegian volunteer began another rounds of story telling. You just never runs out of stories, if you are in Nairobi.

"Go check out Lake Nakaru, it's beautiful. You can take a matatu there in the morning, and be back before it gets dark," He said.

"I'll show ya where you can catch one tomorrow, so you can get some genuine Matatu Experience. I need to catch a ride across town anyway."

Day 3,
He walked me down River Road, and pointed at a line of Nissans sitting on the muddy streets, and said, "See that one with the sign on the top? That's the one that goes to the Lake." and he hoop on to his own Matatu and left me there.

Lake Nakaru? Let me think about it...

After some thinking, I decided to walk over to the National Museum across town instead. " It's only 3 kilometers..., walking is always the better way of travel", I remind myself. Deep down, I think that black and white imaged of a mangled Nissan on TV still haunts me.

"Let's tackle Nairobi, before you tackle the Matatu, Lawrence....", and just as I began to walk back...

"Whamp...." I heard this loud thump on my right, and as I turn to look, I saw this large man just being thrown out of this speeding Matatu that he was trying to get off from, and onto the asphalt he goes. His bag of grocery gotten thrown all across the road....

The speeding Matatu, comes to a screeching stop, realizing what they have done. The conductor jumped out, and walked over to the man, sitting there still dazed and confused from the shock. He helped him up, said something to the man in Swahili, and went about gather up all the stuff on the road for him. He then handed him the bag, pat his back, and back onto the Matatu, as if nothing had happened, sped away.

All this, happened in less than two minutes, and the crowd seeing no one is "really" hurt, lost interest and went about their usual business. Leaving the man, still dazed and confused, limping along on his way.

Grop,...I'll walk.

Night 3,
The walking across town is pretty eventless, thought I had been followed several times, but by crossing streets unexpectedly, walking and stopping unexpectedly, and keeping an eye on your back at all times. I had little trouble, but after three days of this, it was starting to take its toll. I can feel my mind going paranoid. I needed to get out of here!! Out of Nairobi!!!

I made a decision. I am going to do it. It is my last chance, and I don't want spend all my whole time in Kenya in Nairobi!!

I am going to take a matatu, and I am going to go to Hell's Gate national Park. The only park around, where you can actually walk, or bike around in the open. I needed get away bad.

Day 4,
I found my Matatu (going to Naivasha) on that very same parking lot a day earlier, hopped in and waited.

And waited, and waited .....

Yup, just as the book said,

"Engine ignition can occur 45 minutes before you leave and is simply a method of attracting passing trade. The same goes for a sudden, but slow, departure (often just a tour of the bus station). Up to five changes of driver may occur during this stage."

--- Rule No.7

Half an hour later, we filled up this little Nissan van with 20 peoples on board , and the van started to move...

Having read "How to Survive a Matatu" more than a few times, I began realized that, you can't really choose you own seat in this thing...so, if you want to follow Rule No.2, and pick "the middle seats in the second row from the back", you have to get on to that van in the right time, just as it is being filled in. Arrive too early, you be squeezed next to the window as it gets filled; arrive to late, you be crouching over someone's knees next to the door. So for all practical reasons, don't even bother to try...

Having being filled, the Matatu was making good progress on the road. The drive took us along the Rift Valley, for some of the most stunning landscapes. All the passengers were more than happy to see some rich Mujungu coming along ... It was just wonderful.

As we make stops along the way, the van took in at times 23 or 24 people. With so many heads and bodies all packed in, it was kind of hard to count,

"There is always room for one more." --- Rule No.8.

I got to Lake Navasia, and got on to anther Matatu, for a 15km hop to the Park. As usual, you waited, and waited, till the van got full. Some time during this wait, someone loaded baskets, and baskets of dried fish under the seats. The fragrance was quite pungent, and it managed to attracted the local fly population. I thought about waiting it outside, but crawling over four or five peoples knees to the door just feel ridiculous.

"Here...", the guy next to me handed me a piece of dried fish he took from underneath the seat., while putting another piece to his mouth.

"Oh....no. Not the dry fish... Not another test...., I am here for the Matatu test, not the dry fish. There is not a thing on the book about the dried fish! I was hoping for some "miraa shoots" (a "non-addictive" and stimulating leafy twigs and shoots that can makes you feel good, but very aggressive, and you can go for days without sleep) experiences, but not the dry fish."

Not knowing how to say no, I took it, and sensing there is more than a few eyes looking my way, I began to nibbled at it, and put on a little smile, and tried not to look too sissy. With the pride of the whole western civilization resting on my shoulders (well,...more like my tongue.). . .

I swallowed.

"Hahaha. . .", The men laughed anyway.

Oh, boy,

It was great to be in Hell's Gate National Park. No need to look over you back at all times, and no guild to tell you where to go, and nothing but the savannas, the zebras, and a school of crazy baboons trying to take foods from kids. I was free. . . and I wandered around the park well into the sunset.

Then, I remembered something. . ., something about that last bus back to Nairobi, and something about...

"Avoid night journeys . . . " --- Rule No. 5

I hurried back to the main road, just in time to see a matatu ready to leave. I ran for it, and luckily they waited. (They would never leave a Mujungu stranded if they can help it). The conductor got out of his seat out front and waved me over, left the front door open for me . . .

"Under no circumstances allow yourself to be placed in the 'Death Seat' next to the driver - extra leg-room and the occasional shoot of miraa do not outweigh the disadvantage of certain death in the event of a head-on collision."

--- Rule No.1

Ohhh.., No. Not the "Death Seat", I am not ready for the "Death Seat"...

I looked at the back of the van, and saw it packed to the breaking point. I look at the end of the road hoping to find another matatu, . . .no luck. I looked further to the horizon, and find the sun fast setting.... I look back at the conductor, whom kindly offered his "prized" seat for this mujungu, and ... they waited for me. "You can't say no now!! Lawrence."

I got in,

There is already three guys sitting in the front row already, there is no room. (Remember, this is a Nissan van, not the one that are build for our big fat American asses, this one is build for the Japanese market), so I ended up sitting on top of this guy's lap, with my face 12 inches from the windshield, Seat belt? Haha...that's funny.

I called this , the "Death Seat ++".

The van got moving. I looked back and found the conductor whom had offered me his "seat" daggling outside of the van.

"Oh, Man.....If this guy falls, I don't know if I can live with the fact, that it is me that took his seat...."

The van starts to pick up speed, and I watched the needle going up, and up.....30kph, 40kph, 70kph,...

I was scared.

Apparently, so is the conductor. He moved from dangling over the sliding door in the back, and up to the front (all while it's going 90kph). He lean his body in through the window, and have me grabbing on to his belt with him leaning over my lap, and with half of his body still out side.

"If the locals look nervous you have a problem." --- Rule No.6

Then, this evil thought, crept up from my brain, ". . .at lease there is some cushioning, between me and that windshield, now. . .."

With his conductor "inside", the driver mad a final push to his paddles, and we got to around 120kph eventually. Fortunately, some passengers got off during the stops. and the conductor and I went back to sitting in the back rows. It was good to be seating at the back.

Then, that's when it got dark. . ..

To Be Continued....

Nairobian Nights, Part 1

The Flight Out,
Well... my trip to Nairobi was not as trouble free as I had thought it'll be, that's for sure. First, I couldn't get on the bus I wanted, and missed my plane ride by a day, but the guys at the Egyptian Airline was nice enough to put me on standby (with no extra charge), so I have no idea when I am leaving Nairobi.

The Border,
Then, there is the boarder crossing. Which I have to run to catch my bus, as it was leaving without me.... The guys at the boarder took a little longer with me (being the only non Kenyan/Tanzanian on-board), and I have to go change money to pay for my visa... Man....I thought I was going to be stranded at this boarder town. Good thing there is this short cut that cut across this turn on the road.... .

The first 10 Minuets,
8PM, Nairobi. After 12 hour on the bus, I just wanted a place in Nairobi to lie down. I looked at the guide book, and the nearest guest house is just a block away. Oh good, I don't want to go far in this town at night. I had read the warnings in the guide books about this place. There is this thing call 'Nairobbery', which is used by Kenyans to descried the daily muggings and robberies. But it is only a block away, I said. So, I walked out of the bus station with the huge backpack on my back. As soon as I did that, one of the security guards at the station approached me, and go to length to tell me it is not safe to do this.....but it is only a block away, I said....No matter, this guy decided to escort me on my way down the street, with a club in one hand, and a whip on the other.... (I think the guy was after a tip, or commissions from the hotel).

Not 20 meters down the road, we ran into this three heavily armed police/army guys, all with sub-machine guns, whom proceeded to ask us questions, and wanted to see my passport, and even my yellow card (immunization record). They proceeded to check my visa, and said it expired....What? I just got that 3 hours ago! It turns out, that in the dim light the guy thought he saw August 2nd, instead of August 12th.(I think that wanted bribes, if they can find any irregularities in the paper work) So they decided to let me go, and proceeded to walk me to my guest house. Which is only 30 meters away now. So, Here I am... guarded by 3 armed police with machine guns, and a security guard waving his whip, walking down this dark alley...This is Nairobi? The capital city?

Well, I got to the guest house unscratched (physically at least). A little hungry, but a lot more afraid of going outside now. "There is a restaurant across the street, if you run real fast, it'll only take ten seconds max.... you should be Okay", one Japanese guest staying there joked. I don't think he was joking, because coupled with Nairobi's frequent power outages (twice in my first night there), I think I'll wait for breakfast. It is daylight now, things are picking up. Lively town (in day time).