Saturday I headed into town with Junior and stopped by the Massai Market, something I had wanted to do. It's a market where people, I guess mostly of the Massai tribe, bring in crafts and art they've created to sell. I was excited to go see what was there and maybe check some things off my list of stuff I wanted to take back. The first warning sign though, came a block before we got there and were already accosted by an overly friendly man ready to be a guide through the market. There was some cool stuff in the market, but there were lots of guys obviously trolling around for tourists that were too polite or too rich to say no to them. I basically just ignored them as we walked around, and we probably had at least three different guys following us around trying to "helpful" as we were looking at stuff. We actually ended up getting out of there after not too long just because the number of people bugging us to buy stuff was pretty annoying. It frustrated me because it looked to me like for the most part it wasn't even the vendors themselves, but just guys taking advantage of an abundance of tourists who don't know anything about bartering. One of the cool things I kind of did want to get want to get was a pair of flip flops made out of tire rubber, those seem pretty cool, but I'm waiting on buying anything now because I have a suspicion that it'll be cheaper to buy things outside of Nairobi and even if I find there are good deals there I'll have plenty of chances to be back in Nairobi to buy things then. It was kind of painful to see all the tourists that were just too polite and too sensitive for the Kenyan bargaining system. I think I'm getting better at it, but that's mostly been because I haven't been buying anything. We spent some more time cruising around town, and I think I'm getting more comfortable, and I think I might even be able to get home from town on my own now, but we'll see. I'm getting used to the crowds and traffic, but I still have to work pretty hard to keep up with Junior or Flo, and especially Mama Patrick, if we're walking through a crowded area. I haven't been pick pocketed yet, so I guess that's a success as well. We went to go visit Junior's uncle, Uncle Bob, who used to play for the Kenyan national football team and is still quite the celebrity from what I hear (apparently he's famous enough that people regularly recognize him on the street), but he wasn't home. On the walk over though, we went through another large market section of town that I hadn't seen before. It surprises me that there is enough economic activity to sustain this many vendors, but there is a significant portion of all economic activity that happens here. I'm still used to the American (more accurately Seattle/Missoula in my case, I can't speak for the rest of the nation) concept that an open air market is somewhere where you go to buy free trade pottery and overpriced huckleberry chocolate on Saturday afternoons, not somewhere you routinely go for groceries and clothes. I got up Sunday morning to get my run in and have time to get ready for church, but that morning we were running on African time, so we didn't leave the house until church was over. The thing that struck me about the situation was that nobody was really that worried about it. At home my mom herds us all out the door, ready or not, when it's time to go for church and the later it gets the more herding she does. But here no one seemed concerned that we were late and then completely missing church, which was somewhat refreshing after growing up in America's schedule driven society. I don't know that it's good; we did completely miss church after all, but it was definitely refreshing to completely miss something on the schedule and have no one stressed about it. There's been a couple times since I've been here that something's been on the schedule, but then we just didn't get to it, and no one seemed to mind that much, everyone just kind of rolls with things as we leisurely get to things or don't. Anyway, Junior and I headed to town and from there caught a matatu heading out of town to the suburb (or as close as I can tell it's a suburb) Rongai, where his cousin Tina lives. Rongai is only about 25 kilometers away, but without a doubt there is a feeling that you are out of the city. Goats and mules graze along the side of the road, all the roads off of the main highway are dirt, and the general crowdedness and noise that is always present in Nairobi is absent here. The road to Tina's house led us down a steep, rocky road that it seemed to me would be impassable if there was heavy rain. In that sense this place reminded me of Clinton or Nine Mile, where having four wheel drive often isn't optional to be able navigate your driveway year round. We had arrived just in time for lunch, and sat down and ate with Tina and her family, as well as a friend of hers from work that was there. She had two kids, one about 4 months old and the other maybe 2 or 3, right at the age where everything he does seems to be funny and cute. When I had first met her in Nairobi, I had figured she was just one of the cousins, not married, an established bank manager, and mother of two. It's funny thinking about it now because she had come with her kids, but with the relatives that come in and out as well as other people stopping by and didn't make the connection that the kids belonged to her. Her husband arrived as we were eating and sat down to eat with us. I think I might have mentioned it before, but for the emphasis there is on family here and how close families seem to stay, I have been surprised that eating together is not seen as important at all. There have been several times I've sat down waiting for everyone to come to the table and pray together, but then I'm told to go ahead and serve myself and dig in, and people come and go from the dinner table over the course of the evening. After we ate we went to sit down in the living room, which was in the same big room as the dining table but very much a separate area. It seems to me that houses here are generally smaller, which I realized now because this seemed to me to be a pretty nice house, but still not as roomy as what I picture as an equivalent American house, considering that they both work for the bank and live out in the country somewhat. We talked casually and watched TV, with a long portion of the conversation turning to banking, at which point I was lost, but it was still interesting to listen to because of the fascinating mix of English and Swahili. However, between not understanding at least half of what they were saying and not understanding the subject matter anyway, I was a long way from understanding what was being said, apart from Tina's friend commiserating about a potential employee that had been ill-prepared for an interview. After long enough of talking that I was thoroughly bored, they asked me if I would like to go see a house with them. I reluctantly agreed, not sure what I was agreeing to, but looking for some change of scenery. We all got in the car, including Junior who had conveniently and mysteriously disappeared for the entire adults-sitting-around-chatting-about-banking session. I applaud him, but I only wish I had uncovered his plot so I could have been an accomplice. We headed a little ways down the main highway and then off onto another side road, and drove maybe a mile down that road. The area reminded me of the Bitterroot valley, with the main highway branching off onto dirt side roads with scenic landscapes and pastures as well as regular but generously spaced houses, and also with the proximity to town (I realize Missoula is not exactly Nairobi, but bear with me, these are just the things running through my head, I never said they made sense). While in the car I asked Tina's husband (I believe James but I've got too many new names in my head to keep them straight) about if the roads were passable when it rained. He said the main ones were, because of how they had been constructed, but that many of the side roads got extremely muddy and you would have to be careful with those. We also talked about American and Kenyan politics, and particularly about Obama. I really wish I was more up on American politics, because lots of people have asked me about, and more specifically asked me my thoughts on Obama, and I feel like I'm really just blowing smoke with my answers and no one corrects me because they assume I'm the one that is in the know on American politics. If anything I think Kenyans have a borderline unhealthy obsession with Obama; I've heard America referred to as "Obamaland" more than once and something along those lines has probably been the first comment of over half the people I meet. We pulled off the road down a rough driveway to a small plot with a small stone house on it. Tina's husband informed me that he'd bought the property and was having the house built then was planning on reselling the property with the house. The house itself was really small, I think four rooms total, and all pretty small rooms at that. It had a great view though, with the mountains in the distance over the foothills on one side (I think the West but I don't really trust my sense of direction here) and the valley stretching out into the plain on the other. It looked straight across the valley at some fields and houses and, especially in the pleasant afternoon sun, seemed to me like the perfect place to sit out and read a book or just sit and admire. What's great about that spot is that it's still less than 30 kilometers from Nairobi. I think you would be hard pressed to find somewhere that scenic and remote less than 20 miles from a major US city. We checked out a house being built on the next plot over by a Nigerian businessman that they considered to be huge. It was more on the order of what you would expect from a standard American house: two floors, maybe 5 or 6 rooms per floor. From the upstairs I think you actually had a better view than from the other house. It was the kind of place I would love to live if I had to work in the city, because it's far enough that you're not in the city but can still get to it easily. In that sense it reminded me of the Bitterroot valley too. We drove around the back roads a little bit after that then headed back to Tina and James' place. We sat around and drank tea and James and I talked about government subsidies for education in the US and Kenya, and I did my best to explain how the American system works, but I'm not sure how well I understand the American system myself when you get into subsidized loans and some of that stuff, so I hope I didn't give him too much bad information. I don't like being the sole expert of all things American because I'm realizing how bad I am at explaining, or even knowing, the particulars of American culture and politics and demographics and structures and what not. On our way back to town I think we may have got the loudest matatu we've had yet, and this one had a TV playing music videos of the songs we were listening to. Junior loved it, and I have to say it was pretty entertaining, but the music was a little loud again (I think the old person comment count is at about 45).
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