Week 1 of Sister Vacation

For the past two weeks Bebeth and I have been playing on the coast of Kenya. The coast is very different from what you think of "typical" Africa, or what you see on National Geographic. The coast is very Muslim and has a distinct culture, Swahili culture. Many of the women wear traditional clothing and you can hear the call to prayer five times a day starting at 5:00 am. Bebeth and I started our adventure in Mombassa and spent one night there. It is the largest town on the coast but it is on an island so it isn't that large. We visited another Peace Corps volunteer (PCV) who works outside of town at a school for disabled women who make beautiful bags. It was interesting to visit different PCV's over the week because they all live very different life styles. When I used to think of Peace Corps I thought of a rural village, no electricity, no runny water, ect. While Bebeth and Mark dispelled that idea long ago it was interesting to see how they really did live. Many live in small apartments with TV's, fridge, running water, and electricity. The coast is a large tourist destination for Italians so there are many large resorts like the ones Americans go to in the Bahamas and Virgin Islands. Many PCV's live near these resorts and spend time at them helping locals sell crafts or hanging out for free. A very different lifestyle than I expected, that is not to say that some volunteers don't live life the way I originally imagined.

The next morning on a whim Bebeth and I decided to find a bus to Lamu (an island in the north of Kenya). We decided this at 8:00 am and most buses left at 7:00 am. So with much confusion and running around (taking a tuktuk, waiting on a bench for an hour, paying too much for a ticket, not having the bus show up) we found a bus that left at 10:00. We were now on a bus for 6 hours on very bumpy and dusty roads with no bathroom. As roads go in Kenya ( I will talk about them more in another post) the road wasn't too bad and we made it in one piece. My favorite part is the only time the bus stops is to let to military guys (with very large guys) on to ride with us because we are north enough that all buses have to have military on them. I am not used to the large military presence yet. When you get off the bus there are "ferries" there to take you to the island. As everything seems to be in Kenya there is much confusion with people yelling at you in Swahili, grabbing your bag, grabbing you, and yelling (so it seemed to me) at you to get in the boat. I was sure this boat was going to break in the middle of the ocean and I was thankful for the fifth time since being in Kenya that I could swim (not that I have had to put it to the test yet). We made it to the island wet and tired and once again lots of people are grabbing and yelling at you but this time to take you to your hotel. You get used to very quickly always having a person with you "helping" you or offering you some service (boat ride, walks, food, drugs, sex, you name it). This time I was thankful that we had someone walking us to our hotel because we wouldn't have found it. Lamu is one of those magical places that really hasn't moved that far into the 21th century. While they do have running water and electricity everything else has stayed pretty much the same. The town is made up of four stories coral buildings that are 4-6 feet apart. This means that there are no streets but narrow alleys. That also means there are no cars on the island. The main means of transport are donkeys. Bebeth and I spent a lot of time wandering these narrow alleys exploring. There were many small shops to explore that had beautiful material, kikois (traditional brightly colored cotton wraps), wood carvings, and jewelry. Wood carving is a traditional occupation of the island making beds (known as Lamu beds found up and down the coast) and wooden doors. The doors were magnificent and you could spend all day wandering looking for the next one. While we wandered the alleys our presence was always announced by young children yelling "Muzungu" (foreigner). They would yell this over and over again or "Jambo" (hello in Swahili but used only for tourists) until you responded or until you turned the next corner. This was intermixed with sounds of donkey clomping down the alleys. When you heard this you had to run to the nearest door way and jump in before the donkeys ran you over.

The people of the island were so nice. Everyone would remember you which was surprising since there were a good number of tourists on the island. Everyone would stop and talk to you and say that they were the person that walked us to the hotel or sold us a pair of pants or saw us getting juice and hour ago. Even the hawkers (also known as beach boys or peddlers) were nice. As long as you were nice and asked their name and said that if we wanted (a boat ride, ect) we would come and find them they would say ok and tell us welcome and to have a good time. That would be it unlike other places were you might have a new "friend" for a good 10 minutes. My other favorite part of Lamu was the juice. They had the most amazing fresh juice that you could mix anyway you wanted. My favorite was passion banana blended with ice and milk. Bebeth and my second favorite activity was sitting in an open air restaurant along the main drag (along the water) people watching and drinking juice. We spent two lovely days like this until it was time to leave and headed back down the coast.

Courtney on the "streets" of Lamu

Traditional wood door of Lamu

The main street of Lamu