Kenyan 2012 Olympic Trials

Yesterday at lunch, I met the current Chairman of Athletics Kenya, Isaiah Kipligat who extended an invitation to me and a few others to sit in the VIP box for the Olympic Trials to be held at the national stadium. In an effort to seize the opportunity to experience new adventures and make my most of my time in East Africa, I decided to forego a lazy Saturday morning and head near town.  

About an hour before the first heat started, I met up with a friend and his daughter. Lately, I have been a bit apprehensive to go to events by myself, so meeting up with them was comforting. I was one of 3 or 4 mzungus in the VIP box-- along with the Ambassador from the British High Commission and two other unrecognizable expats. 

Recently, there have been moments where I feel a bit awkward mingling with Kenya's elite and this was no exception. The VIP box had a mix of current and past great athletes (who won Olympic medals in the 1980s and 1990s) and some high-profile politicians and nearly all were dressed in full-suits with ties-- something I didn't anticipate at a sports event. (I felt slightly under-dressed in jeans and my black Nike windbreaker). 

The Vice President of Kenya (and current presidential candidate) sat several rows in front of me. His college-age children sat behind him. There was lots of hand-shaking, swahilli chit-chatting and friendly greetings to each person as they mingled around the box. 

I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but religion predominates almost every aspect of society and for me, that has required a bit of personal adjustment (more about that in another future entry, I suppose). Before the first women's 1500m heat started, the announcers urged all attendees stand up to participate in prayer by enlisting God's grace to bestow the participating athletes with outstanding performances and thanking Jesus Christ. 

Kenyans do love their athletics! In between heats, the crowd sung swahilli chants and the mood in the stadium was jovial and upbeat. Today was the final day of competition and the athletes passionately sprinted their all towards the finish lines. I had a near front-row seat to see their gallant efforts.

 

Mt. Longonot Hike

On Sunday morning, I woke up before sunrise to meet the group of 7 other expats to climb Mt. Longonot. Mt. It's located near Lake Naivasha and I climbed the mountain once about 5 years ago with my friend's school trip. I thought it would be a fun way to meet some new people, enjoy Kenya's many great nature preserves, and get some exercise. 

According to the facebook group, we made plans to meet at a local shopping center where the organizer hired a car to drive us. After about 2 hours of driving, the driver was confused with the entrance to the Kenyan National Park and ended up driving on private property. Two guardsmen who were handling a gate said they would allow us to pass if we paid 100 KSH (less than $2USD). Part of our group was ambivalent, but there were three who were angry that they'd make such a request as it continue to perpetuate stereotypes of taking advantage of foreigners perceived wealth.

Finally, after a few minutes of idleness, they opened the gate and we drove towards the entrance of the park. It was a cool day and perfect weather for hiking. I was the oldest of the group and the only one staying in country for longer than 3 months. It was the first experience where I realized that the expat community truly is transient.

It took us about an hour to reach the rim of the dormant volcano (2700 m). Apparently, the last time it errupted was in the 1860s! Parts of the hike were definitely more challenging than others as there were narrow and steep rocks that required us to shimmy and pull ourselves up. In total we hiked the distance of a half marathon! To celebrate, we grabbed a drink at the nearby duka (swahilli for store) before jumping in the car to drive back to Nairobi.

About 15 minutes into the drive, we got a flat tire. The highway was steady with traffic, but our driver (fortunately!) had a spare tire in the trunk and he quickly transferred the rubber and we were back on the road within 30 minutes. 

We arrived back to Nairobi before dark and I rested soundly that night.

My African Friend's Wedding

This afternoon, I was invited to a 200+ person wedding just down the road from the university where I now teach. The adorable couple is currently living in Kansas City, but they wanted to officially celebrate their union at home. In true African style, I found out the details of the wedding yesterday via text by the groom. The couple are newfound friends whom I'd met when we were all staying a mutual friend's house the first month I lived in Nairobi. Earlier this year, they flew into town for a week to finalize wedding details and I was homeless acclimating to my other job. The groom and I became instant friends over some Sambuca (regionally produced here in 3 varieties--- cherry is my favorite flavor and had never tasted it prior to moving to Kenya.) Today, their big day had arrived.

This was my first African wedding and in true African style (aka "African time"), the ceremony didn't begin until almost 2 hours after the 10:30am time printed on the "official" program. I was the only "Mzungu" (translates in swahilli to white person) and the first guest to appear. As other family and friends milled around after 11am, the flower arrangers and wedding planners hurriedly organized the seating chairs and make-shift alter in preparation for the festivities to begin. This was another example illustrating just how relaxed East African culture truly is.

At noon, the ceremony began and was officiated by 2 pastors from a local congregation. There were also two gospel singers who sang songs in swahilli or kikuyu (both languages I know very few words). The service was predominently in English and assimilated many of the Western elements like seating for family/friends of the groom on one side of the aisle, blessing of the rings, singing upbeat traditional songs. Numerous times the Pastor said this was a happy occasion so guests should be smiling. He said that this occasion was not a funeral-- yet his words were quite ironic because Kenya is currently in mourning since two ministers died in a helecopter crash last week and today all TV stations broadcast the funeral service all afternoon.    

During the sermon, the pastor animatedly spoke for about an hour on how a stable marriage should be grounded on "principles" of saying "I love you" regularly to your spouse and having God in your home. In the absence of these "principles" your wife could stray and seek support from the house guard or family driver. While the man needs to have "focus" and "vision in life." Women don't want men who lack vision and direction. 

The Pastor also took the opportunity to talk politics which is a staple in daily life. He intertwined a diatribe on gay marriage and how Obama has disgraced Kenyans by endorsing this union. Then wedding-goers asking if there was anyone present who disagreed that gay marriage is wrong and that they should stand up and speak up. Reflecting on this now and given my diverse friends, this banishment is  border-line hate speech. It always surprises me when religion aims to teach respect, love and kindess for each other, but advertently incites judgement.

The reception was held in a beautiful ballroom with a buffet lunch of traditional delicacies (flavored rice, beef medallions, tomato soup and salad, sauteed spinach, fried potatoes, fried fish, etc.). 

After everyone ate, the DJ mixed African classic pop songs and I shuffled my way into the back of the dance line hurriedly trying to keep step with the Kenyan line dances which everyone seemed to know but me. The afternoon playlist comprised of all Kenyan swahilli songs with the exception of Beyonce's "Single Ladies" which bellowed during the throwing of the bride's bouquet. 

One of the highlights of the day was when the groom serenaded his wife by lipsynching to two Luther Vandross songs. He was the consummate entertainer with his swagger and panache as he held the mic in one hand and his woman's hand in the other. 

The "climax" (truly the word the MC used toward the end of the afternoon) was the cutting of the cake. The cake was what Americans would consider to be German Christmas fruit cake. After the bride and groom cut a slice for each other, the bride walked around the ballroom serving all the guests a bite with a fork. This is symbolic with tradition that it is the woman who feeds the family in life. The cake wasn't cut into slices and served to each table as with many Western weddings. 

The day would not be complete without acknowledging another African tradition, speeches. There were numerous speeches from both friends and family members. Much was not understandable since it was in Kikuyu, but the underlying themes were love and sincere congratulations for their new union.