Well – Happy Dave is back on the road beginning another different adventure. After almost two years of working in Agricultural Development for Africa, I have learned a lot about the priorities, problems and styles of working in order to improve the lives of small resource-poor farmers. I remain committed to using Science and Technology to help achieve these ends, but now add Enterprise to the bag of tricks that I think will work.

Essentially I want to helping all involved to see and create value from their work and be able to feel the rewards. I think it is essential that the farmer values the seed she/he’s obtained. The person getting the seed to the farmer and the company, NGO (charity), or research institute producing the seed must also be rewarded. Without the sense of value from the farmer’s perspective, she will not treat for the new seed or technology with appropriate methods, water and care in order to get the best from it. Development interventions are all too often short-lived and/or very localised in scale due to lack of incentive to reach enough farmers over a long time period. If the disseminators experience the sense of value they will ensure this does not happen.

However, I have been painfully aware that, despite wanting to use Science, Technology & Enterprise to help small farmers in Africa, I have been painfully aware that I have only ever met 3 small farmers. As such, I don’t have genuine first hand knowledge of those people I want to benefit. I needed to experience working directly with my stakeholders so that my experiences can confirm, contradict, clarify or deepen some of the things I’ve learned about them from chatting in pubs or reading authoritative reports.

This is why I’ve come to Kakamega.

So, at the kind invitation of Paul Seward, I’m going to spend the next 2 months working with FIPS-Africa (Farm Input Promotions Africa – www.fipsafrica.org). I’ll be placed in Kakamega, in Western Province of Kenya. If you look on a map, its about an hour’s drive north of Kenya’s third city, Kisumu on the shores of Lake Victoria.

I left Nairobi yesterday with Musau and Gichuki driving quite slowly in a 4 tonne truck out west from Nairobi. Two hours drive got us about half way along a fantastic newly built road to Nakuru (home of the flamingos and white rhinos). The next many hours along bumpy roads got us less far to the Kericho – in the heart of the Tea Picking lands for Unilever’s PG Tips, Lipton and Brookebonde. It was strange driving across the rift valley – the area before Kericho suffered some of the worst tribe on tribe violence during the post-election clashes in December/January. A number of burned out houses could be seen by the road-side and people still living as IDPs (Internally Displaced People) in tented camps outside several of the villages.
“Why are they still there?” I asked Musau as we drove past. “The election was 7½ months ago.” From seeing Kenya in Nairobi, this was a reasonable question. There is a reasonably functional Grand Coalition between members of both parties; the country has returned to a state of nervous normality with more mistrust but most things happening. Some people have even said that the IDPs just want to keep having an easy life and being fed by the UNHCR (United Nations High Commission for Refugees) and WFP (World Food Programme).
“You can’t make them go home!” replied my new friend. These people have had their houses and farms burned by their neighbours. People they once considered to be friends. If they return back, notes are put through their doors saying ‘You don’t belong! If you stay, you will be killed.’ What can they do? Where can they go? Would you take your family back to the place they’d been for 60 years if that had happened to you?”

Food for thought!

Anyway – it was getting towards 6pm so we stopped for the night in Kericho before heading on towards Kakamega this morning. Today we negotiated access to some great new varieties of Sweet Potato developed by KARI (Kenya Agricultural Research Institute) and squeezed 75 large bags of vines into a 4 tonne truck. After, I came to my new residence – ate some beef stew and rice and now to bed.

12 August 2008 Kakamega, Western Province, Kenya remains copyright of the author happydaves, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Firstly, after an extended period without a real Role back in Scotland, its good to have that back again. A job to do.

Secondly, I’m loving that job. The atmosphere in my office is totally different from the atmosphere at the UN or the Kenyan NGO I worked with last year. The people are relaxed, yet professional. They know what their work is and they get on with it – and have the resources to do it. I’m learning lots and contributing something quite valuable too, I think. I also like to believe that they enjoy having my cheery face around the office.  We all sit together for an hour every day at lunch time and talk about the issues and challenges of our jobs or Eastern Africa in general (particularly the Kenyan situation).

One thing that I really like is that staff at all levels seem to feel valued. There was a staff meeting shortly after I arrived, and the boss of the shared office gave everybody the chance to introduce themselves and bring up any issues. The gardeners (Mangeni and Bakali, who I love) told us how they work hard to make sure the flowers are beautiful and they are happy to know that that helps the rest of the team do their job better. They also mentioned they were IT illiterate and asked if they could learn computer skills; the next day were supplied with an old desktop to play with.

I’m also getting to see so many different things here. Part of my job is to visit the 14 agri-businesses funded by my organisation. This has taken me to Nairobi and Thika in Kenya (will shortly visit Kitale in the west of Kenya). I’ve also been to Hoima in Western Uganda and Gulu (home of the Choli people) in Northern Uganda. The businesses do a range of interesting jobs – including, selling seed and farm inputs, organic certification, integrated pest management, buying high value vanilla or avocados from farmers for export to Europe: its so interesting! And I have to come to some sort of judgement about what developmental impacts these businesses are having. What type of farmers their helping? Etc.

Thirdly, I love living in Kampala. When I think about it, I can’t help comparing it to Nairobi. Yes, its true that Kampala is less developed than Nairobi. The electricity is much less reliable. There are only 3 sets of traffic lights. The traffic is terrible. And yet, it is beautiful. The lake side city was (like Rome) built across 7 hills so wherever you look there is a hill and some trees. With about a million people, Kampala is much smaller and feels it. Yes, downtown still has the tower blocks of many cities. Then there are a few big roads heading out of town… but move off those big roads for just a few metres and your on hard packed mud roads with little fields of cassava or maize and small houses.

I’ve joined a running group here called “The Hash”. About 100 people meet every Monday after work and follow one of three routes, marked out with chalk on the ground… W for Walkers, R for Runners and H for Hashes (people who run bits then walk when they get tired). The three routes cross regularly and everybody stops a few times to breathe and let stragglers catch up. Its so nice running across the hills of Kampala and footing down through the small ‘village like’ bits. After Hashing for an hour, we meet together for beer and food and rowdy behaviour before going home. The Hash apparently meet in many cities across the world and is generally the realm of ex-pats, but here in Kampala, probably 70% are Ugandans, so it’s a good way to make friends too.

Yes, Kampala is much more friendly than Nairobi. People here are much less aggressive and, often, want to talk just to get to know you – rather than for money or a job. I’ve heard it said that the relationship between foreigners and black Kenyans in Nairobi has been in place for too long, making it too established to break out of. In Nairobi it is very difficult, even for a friendly Dave, to break that mould. In Kampala, it’s much easier to choose. One of my favourite people here is the guy who I buy bananas from. Freddie owns a small (2m2) shop at the bottom of my street and sells me bananas. After talking for 5 minutes on my first day, he clicked, then squeaked (as Ugandans tend to do) before predicting that he thought we would become friends. One week and many bananas later, he pronounced “David, I think we are friends now. Eeee!”

Perhaps a consequence of the friendliness, Kampala is strikingly safer than Nairobi. Here it feels good to walk around the city centre at night before jumping on the back of a motorbike to take me home. I’ve not heard any tales of robberies here at all.

Similar to Nairobi is that among the internationals, Americans tend to stick together…. And only work in the faith based charities. Unfortunately, my flatmate is one of those, so I’ve had an overdose of them. I only know a few Europeans – and think I’m going to have to be a bit more pro-active about muscling in on their social circles. While I love my Ugandan friends, its always good to have some people who understand you a bit better.

My twin laughed, when I told him that I’m going to Aerobics classes after work several times a week. “Aerobics in Africa? Difficult to imagine,” he said. And, yes I know what he means – but this aerobics is quite different from the British feminine style. Classes are run by super-fit African men. Similarly, most of the participants are very fit African males. Easily as tough as a circuit training class back at York – they really put us through our paces. Add to that Lingala (Congolese) music and a smattering of tribal warbles/calls at exciting points from people in the class and you have a really fun evening that really re-freshens me after a day at work.

Anyway – hope you’re all well.

Dave

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Uganda - back in Africa remains copyright of the author happydaves, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Happydave is back on the road. After a few enjoyable months back home in Scotland, I jumped on a plane bound for Kampala, the capital of Uganda.

For those with rusty geography, Uganda is a hilly banana loving country in East Africa. To the south lies lack Victoria, and then Tanzania and Rwanda. The river Nile starts its long journey from this lake and then winds its way up into Sudan in the north. To the west lie the war torn jungles of Democratic Republic of Congo (formerly Zaire). And to the East is my old home, Kenya.

I’ve come to Uganda to work with an organisation that aims to promote agricultural development through supporting agricultural enterprises. I’m keen to use my time here to learn about how business models can be used to run projects that will sustain their own activities into the future on their own and so have longer lasting effects than some 3 year or 5 year charity style projects.

I’d originally planned to visit Kenya for a week on my way and visit old friends and colleagues, but an hour before I was supposed to check in at the airport on Tuesday – I decided it wasn’t such a good idea… the tragic situation appeared to be deteriorating Minutes to go before running out the door, I switched my flights and then legged it for the airport. I only had time to dash off a quick email explaining to my new boss that I’d be 10 days early.

Sitting on the plane as I passed over Tunisia, it suddenly hit me that I wasn’t headed for a city that I knew, with friends waiting, but an unknown destination – little idea how to get from the airport to the city or where I would stay. Too tired to worry much about it, I curled up in my seat and snoozed till morning.

I seem to have landed on my feet here. Built across several hills there’s a cosy feeling to the town, which is much gentler and friendlier than Nairobi. My office is perched on one of the hills with a nice view and friendly people. I’ve already found a flat to stay in with a view of the lake – sharing with a Rwandese/American guy whose been working in Africa for a few years. Boss took me out to Karaoke on Thursday night too! I’m hoping to spend today (Saturday) getting to explore a bit more the local area.

Uganda - back in Africa remains copyright of the author happydaves, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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can get a profit by selling seeds along with information to farmers then it means that when a project finishes the shop owner still has an incentive to distribute seed… because they will still make money. Good outputs can therefore outlast the project – sustainability in action rather than just some word in a concept note.

Also, why shouldn’t people be able to make money if they help farmers – it’s a good thing. It has been a hard lesson for a lefty liberal like myself to accept that private sector can be a good thing.

By some chance I am now entering an after work drinking relationship with a guy who runs one of these projects. We are discussing whether there could be a job in it for me.

My trip to Chile
I’ve just got back from Chile. It was good to escape Nairobi for a while. I needed a break – although this was work. But you know what they say – a change is as good as a holiday. I cannot describe to you how nice it felt to spend Saturday and Sunday wondering around the city (Santiago) with a map in my hand and looking like a clueless tourist. Not really something that is possible in Nairobi. Was also great to meet the backpackers in the hostel. Starting out on a 6 month tour of the continent. Excited. Having left their work and responsibilities behind.

On my other day off I went up to the mountains near Santiago. So nice to play in snow and enjoy the view.

Was fun rediscovering my Spanish too.

Work was interesting although the jetlag, combined with a growing cold, really killed me and in the afternoons I was a bit of a mess. I was in Chile to meet with the people who run a project similar to mine for Latin America and the Caribbean. Sharing experiences and ideas. I learned some new things and had some new thoughts. Also understood better some of the drive from my Rome bosses who had initiated my Africa project to replicate the success of the Latin American one. I now have some serious thinking to do about how much of the experience of South America is relevant to Africa.

Back in Nairobi
When I walked back into the flat in Nairobi yesterday my flatmate, Lara, asked if that was it and I was returning to Europe now. I have been a bit grumpy recently and she thought that when I saw some other place I would wash my hands of Africa – up and leave. I haven’t. Not yet.

Why have I been grumpy? I think, as I said, needing a break. I’ve had one long weekend and two other days off plus Christmas, boxing day and new year since before I arrived in early December. And the strain of being here does begin to pull. I was becoming much less tolerant of all things disorganised over here.

Also, even my weekends now aren’t much of a break. I’m looking for jobs. Searching the internet. My contract finishes at the end of July and I don’t yet have anything to go to. I have French lessons three evenings a week and the other two it is really difficult to motivate myself to stay at work late to look for jobs… also, it’s not safe to stay alone there much after dark.

Right, I’m off to bed now to nurse my cold. Hot Toddy, cough medicine and paracetamol are all my new friends.

Continued from blog of not finished remains copyright of the author happydaves, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Been a while since I blogged. Done lots of stuff since then.

Highlights

1. Visit to Nakuru National Park
2. Conference in Mozambique
3. Camping with Samburu tribes people over Easter
4. Rant about how European attitude to GM is damaging Africa

1. Nakuru National Park
Yup, so back in March I went to Nakuru national park – about 2-3 hours north of Nairobi. Some buddies (including my friend Borris from FAO-Rome… used to do the lake swim with me) and I hired a vehicle and drove along the rift valley up to the park one Friday afternoon. As we checked at the park gate, I met Sandra a teacher at the German school I’d had coffee with several weeks ago (a friend of another Rome buddy from the lake, Sebastian). So we decided to check into the same youth hostel/banda/ hut things and hang out together. This should be surprising, but… well the Nairobi crowd really is small – and there’s a good chance to bump into people all over the place.

Got up early to be greeted by a beautiful sunrise behind our hut with a heard of Buffalo. Beautiful.

The centre-piece of the park is Lake Nakuru, surrounded by some gentle hills and the special thing about the lake is that it is packed with Pink Flamingos - squillions of them. We went down to the lake side and the mass of pink birds was mind-boggling… Borris commented that the sound of all their feet walking around the lake, in and out of the water, was like a waterfall.. and yes. He was right.

Also met about 15 Rhinos (both white and black). The white ones are bigger and lighter in colour but actually get their name from the fact that they have a WIDE mouth.. and then the word was mistranslated somewhere to become white. Anyhoo, the wide mouthed white rhinos are grazers, eating vegetation off the ground (grass) – they are also social creatures that hang out together a lot. The black rhinos, which are smaller and more solitary, have a pointy mouth to help them browse for food from the trees.

The usual lions and monkeys were also seen, but the coolest thing was my first leopard – a baby, curled up on a tree. Auaaaahhhh.

The Saturday night, Borris and I wanted to take a slash around 2am… and opening the hut door to cross the site to the toilets/bushes, we were greeted by three great big Buffalos, the closest within 5m of us. I think I mentioned before that Buffalos are the 2nd most dangerous animal in Africa… killing and maiming many each year. Yieks!

Sunday morning we breakfasted outside with Zebras (including a baby) munching grass within a few metres of us.

I feel so spoiled here.

2. Conference in Mozambique
Yes, at the end of March, I went to Maputo for an incredible week. The conference brought together all the people funded by the Rockefeller Foundation in Africa. Over 400 of the best crop scientists, breeders and seed distributors on the continent, all doing amazing work. I am not funded by Rockefeller (an American charity run by an oil rich family) but when I heard about the meeting I demanded an invite. It was inspiring to meet these guys who have been nurtured by the Foundation over the years and trained to be top-class people and are really working, using plant science to improve crops… make them disease resistant, drought resistant, high in vitamins, low in toxins, insect resistant, striga resistant. Then at the same conference were breeders who could transfer the improved traits into locally adapted varieties. This is normally the furthest a scientist would think about a problem.. but having worked with the UN in Africa I now realise that its only the start of the problem. We have a lot of good crop varieties which aren’t being used by farmers… either because farmers don’t know about it… or because they know about it but can’t access the seed. There have been enormous problems making enough good seed for farmers to plant… and then getting the seed to the farmers.

You see almost 80% of Africans are small holder famers with about a hectare of land each. There are therefore, almost by definition the rural poor of Africa and any pro-poor policy or new variety should really target these people. They tend to live a long way from cities along very very bad roads. It used to be the job of governments to get seed/education to farmers, but the economic policies of the west, which led to reduction/removal of agricultural subsidies mean there isn’t enough money to do this effectively. It is in the domain of the private sector… but if there are no (good) roads to reach the small holder farmers, it is difficult to transport the seed. Even if there was a means to transport the seed, it becomes difficult to sell to the farmers who may not understand why its better, may be nervous about taking a risk on something new and don’t have access to any credit and rarely have spare cash. The same is true for fertilisers.

The issues of Seed Production and Distribution is big. Possibly almost as big as the issue of how the farmer will get their produce back to the market to sell once she/he’s grown it.

And the Rockefeller initiatives have made enourmous progress in this area reaching millions of small holder farmers. Some people would claim the issue shouldn’t be that big. If Coca-cola can get its product (which helps nobody) to the back of beyond and generate demand (which it can) then there is no excuse for the seed industry.

Rockefeller is using the small-scale private sector to help with its seed. It’s sad but true. The individuals working in the public sector have little interest in success… and if small shop owners can get

I never finished this remains copyright of the author happydaves, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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It was funny arriving in Jo’burg. Completely against all UN rules, I booked myself into a backpacker type B&B hostel on my arrival. As I was taken to the airport the thing which really struck me was that I was on a Highway. A motorway. Wide, smooth, clear, organised. We do not have them in Kenya. Also, the area around my accommodation looked very like suburban America. Wide roads, leafy criss-crossed residential, 4-way stops, malls… just more security here.

Sao Paolo, 11th April 2007

I have seen less of Brazil than I saw of South Africa… I don’t know if it is my romantic ideal or the winter light, but, as we came down to land in Sao Paolo and drove around the airport, it just seemed like a shiny happy place. Something that I can’t describe…

I’m sitting around in the airport now. When I saw the Air France plane and then the KLM… I felt somehow sad/happy. I am now so far from Europe (in my experience, Africa and many months are between Europe and Brazil) and seeing these things from home was quite a surprise… not at the intellectual level, but at the emotional level. I am sure that many people have shared this experience when far from home but the urge to walk smuggle myself on board the Air France plane was almost overpowering. I almost forgot how excited and fortunate I am to be coming here.

I spent 15 minutes watching the Air France plane leave its gate, taxi to the runway and take off. Just thinking about the connection.

On the move remains copyright of the author happydaves, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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She and many of the other residents are at a loss to understand why so little has been done to help their city withstand floods and hurricanes - both before and after the event. At a loss to explain why the media does not report their tale.

Following a public meeting in the city - they agreed to tell their stories themselves. The story of New Orleans therefore came to me and I pass it on to you.
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Greetings from New Orleans!
We went to a meeting of experts and concerned citizens concerning the plight of our city. One of the speakers who works for a national newspaper said that it's up to us citizens to disseminate the truth of what has happened and is happening in our town - we cannot rely on the media. She recommended that we tell everyone we know and ask them to tell everyone they know, etc. so the word gets around. Following her guidance, I'm sharing a bit of what I know, hoping you will pass it on to those you know, so our situation can be understood.
Another speaker at this meeting, a lawyer, mentioned that he was involved in the bill to get funds from our Federal Government to improve our levees since they surround canals which are fingers of Lake Pontchatrain. Their needed improvements were thus included in the Hurricane and Flood Protection Act. When the bill was finally passed in 1990, the improvements agreed upon were EARTHEN levees and the funds distributed were enough to buy the necessary land from the homeowners in order to enlarge these levees. The speaker's mother lived right on the levee, so he visited her to explain that she would have to sell part of her back yard in order to make New Orleans safer with higher levees. He said he doesn't know what happened after that except that the Army Corps of Engineers did not buy people's land and much of the money that was allotted for these improvements promptly disappeared. Meanwhile, a friend who is a contractor and walks his dog around the 17th Street Canal told us that he watched the Army Corps building the "improvements." Instead of the promised earthen levee, they used light peat soil, short pilings, and cheap, light grade concrete to build a concrete wall extension because they couldn't afford anything better. When the water from the lake pressed against this flimsy wall, it toppled, flooding New Orleans.
A man in the audience of our meeting stood up to say he used to work for the Army Corps of Engineers, and he knows for a fact that these "improvements" were built to merely run off the storm surge, not to stand up to water next to them, as in a flood. He encouraged us not to believe what the Army Corps says about the levees being O.K.- "they are NOT!" A woman in the audience mentioned that she knows someone who had moved out of town because he doesn't trust the levees, and he is still employed with the Army Corps of Engineers.
There is a movie out now, Hurricane on the Bayou, that attributes the devastation of New Orleans to the storm surge of Hurricane Katrina, yet a local hurricane expert, Ivor Van Heerden, says 80% of the flooding was caused by the collapse of the levees. Only 20% was caused by the storm surge. The film also neglects to mention that the Mississippi River Gulf Outlet, a canal that was built in 1965 to diminish the trip of seafaring vessels from New Orleans to the Gulf of Mexico by 40 miles, has been documented to increase the storm surge by 20-40%. It has also devastated the marshlands that offer protection to New Orleans from hurricanes, (see the book, The Storm, by Ivor Van Heerden). Though the media seems to like to blame Hurricane Katrina ("the worst natural disaster in our country's history"), the fact of the matter is that the destruction of New Orleans was vastly man made - yet there is no accountability.
A petition is being distributed calling for an official impartial investigation into the New Orlean's levees and what happened during Katrina. The "official" investigation in 2006 was led by a Lt. General of the Army Corps of Engineers! Three unofficial investigations found their report, "incomplete and technically inaccurate." Yet, the Army Corps continues to be in charge of the levees that protect 1.5 million people.
Crime is also rampant on the streets and in homes. One group was stealing copper pipes in houses being renovated as soon as they were laid. They were finally caught, but released the next day because there were not enough guards in the prison for them! Criminals of any kind are also being released if their paper work isn't processed within 60 days. Judge David Bell of the criminal justice system spoke to our women's club. He mentioned that the juveniles in the system were ready to evacuate with their families, but the official protocol from FEMA was to separate the children in one bus, the women in another and the men in a third. The reason they gave is they did not know if there were any pedophiles or other criminals in the group, and they wanted to "protect the children," They were all supposed to go to Houston, but the kids were rerouted midway to Arkansas, and the other two buses were also separated and sent to different locations. After we were allowed back into our city, the kids found their way home, "as stray animals often do," only they no longer had viable homes, so they have been living on the streets. FEMA will not release the whereabouts of their parents because they say it goes against privacy laws, but did mention they are safe in trailer park settlements. The judge said he's been trying for 18 months to get the information, and FEMA refuses all approaches. Meanwhile, the kids are fending for themselves with prostitution and theft . . . or are themselves the victims of crimes. Four hundred out of 800 kids in his jurisdiction signed up for school without parental signatures. Monday through Friday, they are getting 2 meals a day, but the summer months are approaching. The judge's story of the lost parents was one of many tales of horror. All the departments seem to say the same thing - "We have no money to do what needs to be done."
A friend mentions how her church has been organizing volunteers from all over the world to come to New Orleans and help people rebuild their homes. She asked, "If our church is able to orchestrate this huge relief effort, why can't the Administration of our technologically advanced country, wealthy from all our tax dollars, do the same?" To us, the answer is obvious . . .
On a positive note, a friend said, "I would never have stopped in the 9th Ward before Katrina - I would have passed through quickly with my doors locked, feeling afraid. After the disaster, I brought over food, supplies and T-shirts and handed them out to whomever I could find. It was a delight and a joy to be there." The tremendous fear of our neighbor that inhibited our interactions before the storm, for a great many of us, has washed away. We're just grateful to be alive!
Please help to spread the news of our current status! Anne & Christine

New Orleans: Disaster or Conspiracy remains copyright of the author happydaves, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Things are well.

Yesterday, fed up with the city a matatu’d out to Lake Naivasha again and took a boat onto Crescent Island. The island (a crescent shape) was a former volcano crater rim and commands a view of another volcano Mount Longonot (blog…), the cliff of Hell’s Gate (blog… ) is full of lots of beautiful animals. During the boat trip I saw my first hippo (with Longonot behind).

I just walked around the island for a few hours, in amongst the Gnu (Wildebeast)... you remember that song Mr Fee used to sing
"I'm a GeNu, How do you do?"

Dave is in Africa, Honestly

Thompsons’ Gazelles, Grants Gazelles, Imapala, Water buck

and the ubiquitous Zebras. But I had been warned to keep away from the thick trees and bushes because that’s where the Buffalo were hiding… Yes, Buffalo, together with Hippos are by far the most dangerous animals in Africa – killing and maiming many more people than lions or leopards… because their grumpy!

On arrival back in Nairobi, I met Ben (Kenyan guy from work). We headed out to Eastlands for a drink in a properly African pub, with African music, dancing and no Musungos (whites).. it was great. Then onto his cousin’s mourning house in South B to hang out for a while. Similar in many ways to the mourning house Kai and I visited in Sri Lanka … people hanging about outside the house under a covering sitting chatting, laughing, most not seeming to be particularly interested in the fact that Ben’s cousin’s wife had just died. The difference was that in Kenya they were playing a Shine Jesus Shine dvd at full volume on the TV and I was very careful not to pay any attention to drunken uncles who might ask me to sing a song. There was no repeat performance of Brown Eyed Girl from Dave.

After the death house, I attended the ex-pat party of the week… hosted by The Italians.

Oh, and here's a pic of Paul flipping pancakes at my place last Tuesday

And here is my office

Some of my Colleagues in the office and my office through the back

My at my desk

Visited an Island and a Mourning House remains copyright of the author happydaves, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Today I got chatting to a lady mycologist at the Kenya Agricultural Research Institute. She and her colleagues in the Plant Pathology division are the main centre in Kenya to help farmers who have a problem with diseased crops. Farmers send in cuttings or samples of afflicted plants and the labs try to diagnose what is causing the disease and then advise or help with its control. They have people specialised in bacterial diseases, fungal disease, nematodes and viruses. This is vitally important to the livelihoods of Kenyan farmers and food security for the nation, since only by knowing what is wrong with your crop can you act properly to cure it. Diseases left unchecked can spread across a whole farm, province, country or even continent. Control may involve the use of chemical sprays to kill the causative agent or changing the way the crop is grown to avoid it being grown at a time of year when the pathogen is at its nastiest. It may also involve changing the crop… some pathogens are very selective to one species of plant, so if a field is contaminated with a disease that kills maize, then growing cowpea may be an option. Or it may involve planting varieties that are resistant to that particular strain of pathogen.

Obviously fast diagnosis and detailed knowledge of the disease causing agent can have a big impact… however, sometime in the last 10 years the Kenyan Government, in its wisdom decided that agricultural support and extension work should be self funding. I have a feeling that this is due to international reforms forced by the rich countries of the world (through institutions like the IMF, World Bank, WTO) on the poor countries to remove agricultural subsidies. The government cannot subsidise seed supply, fertilisers, pesticides, fungicides… the argument being that if people pay the full value of something they will use it more wisely and it will encourage entrepreneurs and the private sector to help out in a more efficient way than a 3rd world government ever could manage… if farmers pay the full value of seeds then it will support the breeding for and development of new locally produced varieties that are particularly adapted to the national setting. Somehow, these rules on not subsidising farming enforced upon the developing world do not apply to USA or the EU. We pay a British farmer 70 pence to make a bag of sugar that will sell on the market for about 40 pence. I don’t want to get too much into the unfairness of this situation as we’ve all heard from Make Poverty History and other campaigns the effect that our farming subsidies have on the ability of an African farmer to get a fair prices for his crop… if she/he makes sugar at 50 pence a bag then there won’t be a market for it!

What I’m ranting about today is the absolute madness of the withdrawal of government subsidies from a plant pathology unit. Here we have a few well trained scientists and agronomists (some with PhD’s from UK/Australia) who know how to use the relatively cheap and efficient biotechnological techniques of PCR or ELISA (which uses antibodies) for diagnosis of disease in a very quick and specific manner. They have an ELISA machine in their lab and some access to other equipment and yet they are rarely used because the Plant Pathology Unit must be self financing. They must take in as much cash from farmers as they spend… and when local farmers struggle to pay the 500 Kenyan Schillings per sample (about £3) the advanced techniques can’t cover their costs. Instead they resort to old school taxonomic analysis of looking at the fluffy shapes that the fungal cultures make.

It seems to me incredibly short sited of the powers that make the rules. I am not an economist and I don’t know how to do proper cost/benefit analysis, but I imagine that the benefit of knowing early about threatening diseases is worth more to the country than just to the farmer with the diseased plant… and could certainly be worth more than £3… if it stops the disease spreading to his neighbouring farms and destroying livelihoods of farmers who will then be unable to pay for their kids to go to school and may also rely on food aid handouts from the government. So expecting the farmer to pay the full cost of stopping an crop infection does not seem reasonable.

I would really like to know if this is driven by the agenda of the Kenyan government or the rich donor countries of the world.

Pancakes and Pathology remains copyright of the author happydaves, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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One of the first differences I noticed was the people… not that they’re black… but the subservience. I was quite surprised (stupidly) when the driver or the porter in the hotel took the initiative to ask me who I was, where I was from, why I had come here. In India, that does not happen; I would probably exchange similar information but at my initiative. One wealthy Asian told me the lower classes there should ‘know their place’.

Another thing that jumped out when I first arrived was the food. In Asia, the street stalls and the cafes are overflowing with delicious and interesting foods. In Kenya there is almost no street food and the local dishes in the restaurants are not so interesting. Normal food here is Chicken or Beef stew or barbequed meet with maize, rice or chips as the accompanying starch.

Kenyans also express their sexualities much more explicitly than does your average Asian I’ve met. Sri Lankan women are likely to dress modestly and be unlikely to strike up a conversation with a tourist male. In Kenya, the women and men seem very aware of and comfortable with their bodies. They love to boogie and even ones that aren’t that pretty are very sexy when they get on the dance floor.

Of course the religions are different, the poverty is more extreme in Africa and, although Kenya, India, Sri Lanka and Malaysia were all in the British Empire, Kenya feels like its been much more thoroughly colonised than the Asian territories I’ve visited. But what I like to ponder is whether the differences are due to the difference of Africa and how much due to colonialism experienced in the two continents.

Why do I think Kenya was more colonised?
Well, the Asians were allowed to keep their own home grown religions.
The subservience of Indians is, I’m told, something to do with the caste system and the religions… which also seems to allow so many people to be living on top of each other, without too much strife and war that has tormented Africa since independence.

The boring food of Kenya sounds similar to boring British food… with Maize (the staple food) being an indigenous crop to the Americas. Cattle with Aberdeen Angus and Frisian genetic background. Chips being an indigenous crop to Scotland. Interestingly, Ethiopia (the only African country that wasn’t colonised) has got much more flavourful food.

I don’t think the increased sensuality and sexuality of Africa comes from the Brits, but an Indian friend of mine tells me that the prudishness I observed in India is due to the import of Victorian values… from Britain.

In language, I took a bus here in the company ‘Citti Hoppa’ (some corruption of a Cockney way of speaking) and I paid my fair to the bus conductor ‘Duncan’ with 20 ‘bob’ (abbreviation for the official currency of Shillings) before ‘alighting’ at my destination.

Another huge difference between Asia and Kenya is that the colonialism in Kenya seems to remain very strong today in economic terms. As I write this, I’m sitting opposite Barclays bank, within 2 minutes walk of a BP, a Shell and a Mobil petrol station. I can see an advert across the road for Michelin tyres.

Most of the music and pop stars I hear on the radio or see on TV (or in churches) are from UK or our richest former colony (USA) and all the TV’s, radios and cars here seem to be of brands from the global North.

In the supermarket, all the brands are ones from home. Macvities Digestives, Campbells soup, Delmonte juice, Lea and Perrins Worcester Sauce to name but a few.

In India, Sri Lanka, Malaysia you see local banks, petrol companies, music, film industry, computers, TV’s and brands in supermarkets.

This all makes me question, how much the increased colonialism is responsible for increased poverty in Africa still today. How much of every Shilling I spend here on most of my purchases here in Kenya ends up in the pockets of shareholders in the global north. Are the high rates of HIV/AIDS in Africa in part due to conservative Christian values on contraception? How much of the slow pace of development is due to the hand-out culture that our previous developmental/economic policies have nurtured?

I also want to rant about attitudes towards technology and agricultural development that Africa has adopted from The West… but I think that can wait for another time.

Africa and Asia remains copyright of the author happydaves, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Recently, I suppose I’ve been commenting more on things I’ve seen and how they’ve challenged me, rather than focussing on the fun stuff.

But, I think its quite safe to say that although its not everything I’d wanted, YES, I am enjoying myself in Nairobi.

Why is it not everything I’d wanted?

Well, I still feel like I’m not really experiencing Africa. Nairobi is a town that is crowded with Aid and Development workers. It homes the headquarters of UNEP (United Nations Environment Programme), UN HABITAT (focussing on city issues), several big regional offices for other agencies, coordinating offices for emergency missions in Somalia and Sudan and lots of NGO’s (Non-Governmental Organisations – or in Britain, charities like Oxfam). I spend most of my spare time with the international community and still feel I don’t really know many Kenyans. Sure I work with them, but the work relationships have mostly stayed at work. I haven’t visited homes or really engaged with their lives… I wonder if it’s my fault for not trying enough… but in other countries I’ve managed much more easily. I think its something about Nairobi. Perhaps also the security in Nairobi – always having to be a bit more careful about giving banter on the street or inviting people home or accepting an invitation to go somewhere.

The fun is very fun though. Even though I’m frustrated by the slow pace of work and the beaurocracy of the UN agencies, I know I’m lucky.
Where else can I get up and leave at the end of the week and look at Zebras, Giraffes, Elephants? It is totally amazing!

Two weekends ago I visited a Giraffe centre with two friends I met in Rome (Caitlin and Stefano who work with UNESCO) who have recently moved out here.

We walked along a nice country lane to get there

Giraffe’s are amazing!

We also walked around a nearby wood and found this guy in our way

Last weekend on the Saturday I met up with an Irish friend, Hugh, and we took a Matatu (public transport minibus) an hour out of town to visit the Thika falls. I had imagined something special… it was actually pretty crap. But it was still an adventure. Just going out and finding a new place.

Then Saturday night I got chatting with a couple of friends at Casablanca. They told me at 3 am that Sarah had rented a car and there was to be a trip starting at 9am tomorrow morning to visit Mount Longonot. So after few hours of sleep we got up, made hummous and drove off. We passed some stunning views of the rift valley which the camera really doesn’t do justice to. The ground suddenly falls away below you to a huge flat floor that goes on for … far.

You can see Mount Longonot (a volcano crater) in the distance in the photo. The pointy one.

So we drove to the bottom, climbed up the side and planned to walk around the crater

However, it started raining very hard and we got a bit wet and cold and went down happy after just some jaunting on the crater rim.

Sarah is the short blonde British girl who works in HIV/AIDS journalism. Kirsten is the tall blonde Canadian girl who I spent Christmas eve with. One of the guys plays for the Kenyan football team and is her boyfriend. He’s also a part-time model.

The fourth guy sells clothes and reads 10 newspapers a day and filled me in about the complex political situation in Kenya as we walked.

This week I was out in Havanas (a Cuban bar) for the Birthday of a great Italian guy here called Vincenzo who makes documentaries. Thursday was the regular Salsa night at The Pavement, which is a big social event where you can meet everybody in the international community. Friday night I went out for dinner with some international scientists from the International Centre for Research in Semi-Arid and Tropical Crops (ICRISAT) before going back to Casablanca.

Then last night was the big bonanza.
We had about 70 people in our flat from at least 21 nationalities… many of them known. Many not. Like I said, it is a small international community here. Everybody knows everybody… so many people turned up who I knew who had been invited by a friend of a friend of someone and it was great.

The community is a bit like being University students who never quite grew up. Lots of people who aren’t ready to settle down with no or dysfunctional relationships. People from all over the world. Mostly interesting. Mostly fun. But being slightly older there isn’t so much agro, and nobody being sick from too much alcohol.

I don’t know if you can judge a party from the debris left over in the morning but

Red wine 10 bottles
White wine 3.5 bottles
Vodka 8 bottles
Gin 2.75 bottles
Famous Grouse 1 bottle
Tusker beer 103 cans + 7 bottles
Tusker Malt beer 7 bottles
Windhoek beer 1 bottle
Stella 1 bottle
Smirnoff ice 1 bottle
Red Bull 2 cans

Krest (bitter lemon) 1 bottle
Tonic 13 glass bottles (200ml)
Sprite 6 x 2 litres
Coke 6 x 2 litres
Plastic cups 100

Hummous (home-made) 3 empty bowles
Guacamole (home-made) 1 empty tub
Salsa (home-made) 1 empty vat
Cookies (home-made) 3 empty trays
Samosas (50 not there)

I think it was a good party.

Photos below were us clearing up this morning... the water has been off all day and I still haven't showered.. ugggh!

Am I having fun? remains copyright of the author happydaves, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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But first, I'll update you on our slum demolishion which Christina has likened to 'cleansing' activities in her country before world war 2.

Sunday things were quite as lots of people tried to salvage what they could.. either from the wreckage or from the houses which hadn't been knocked down. Sarah came and did our laundry. We gave her a little extra which she used to get a 'cube' in another slum 45 minutes away... until that one gets knocked down.

Tuesday night the demolishers came back. This time the slum-dwellers were ready for them and built a fire in the driveway up to the slum between two walls so nobody could pass. The fire was at least 10 feet high. Some shouting. Some things thrown. The demolishers left.

Wednesday, I got home from work and saw some Black guys in Suits and Indian/White guys in T-shirts standing in the middle together. I went down to see what was going on and the World Social Forum organisers were holding a press conference. A guy was talking quietly to the journalists, saying that there were clear international guidelines on how these things should be done and they had not been followed... and he would be making this clear to the Kenyan government in his report. I found out later he was the UN special Raporteur for The Right to Adequate Housing. It was good to know that people were taking an interest and trying to help (even if it was only because thousands of activists were in town for the world social forum). They were going to court the next morning to get an injunction to get it stopped.

Then about 11pm last night we heard noises again. Looking out the window, the fire was back. People were throwing things again.. but this time the demolishers thugs got through. Lots of men with big sticks. More shouting. More screaming. An american started yelling insults out of his hotel window. Then the lights came from the other side of the slum. The bulldozer had found another entrance. It was crushing the remaining houses. The battle for their homes was over. The land cleared. 500 people homeless. The court hearing useless.

Why do they come at night? ....darkness hides bad things
Why did they want it demolished .. had somebody bought the land? Was it because its an election year and the government doesn't want people living in squalour close to the city centre?
Was it because the slum was close to the President's house?
Nobody seems to know.

It is true that the land did not belong to the slum dwellers, but to somebody else. What should that person do with the land that they have spent money on purchasing? If he/she wants to develop or use their land then people will lose their homes, but they shouldn't have to lose them like this.

It brings back to me some comments from the activists at the World Social Forum last weekend. In Indian lady, Vandana... something... said that capitlism and commercialism are destroying our world and preventing development for the poor. Now there are many people who believe that the private sector can help development in African countries. And perhaps, yes, there is a role.. you believe this when you see how government officials or civil servants have no interest in doing their job effectively to help people because they don't personally gain anything from it.

However, Vandana ranted about how the policy of putting a dollar price to everything- be it land, water, air, food, grazing rights, fishing rights, right to pollute (carbon trading) damages poor communities. Now you're considered poor if you live on less than a dollar a day. But 40 years ago, you could live on 50 cents but get your water, housing and feed your cattle on common land. Not any longer. You may have 2 or 3 or 10 dollars a day and be far worse off.

Should the land on which these people live have ever had a price attached to it? Should it have belonged to the owner? Can there be justice in a capitalist world?
Perhaps... Perhaps not.

Ok, enough thinking. Time for photos!

Finished and some elephants remains copyright of the author happydaves, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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It’s 1 am and I feel despair for those around me combined with a slightly sick feeling in my stomach that I can sit here in the comfort of my apartment and write about it.

I’ve had such a range of experiences the last few days, each of which worthy of a blog entry, that I don’t really know where to begin.

I would start with my high powered meeting at the US embassy on Wednesday, rubbing shoulders with the rich and powerful who ‘seem’ to want to do good in this country. Then there is the a posh press conference breakfast at the Intercontinental Hotel on Friday, again meeting the US players, and also directors of important agriculture NGO’s, journalists, MP’s, The Minister for Education, Science and Technology.

But those memories become very quickly eclipsed by four happenings that all occurred today. First, the opening of the World Social Forum: an event bringing people together from far and wide under the banner ‘Another World is Possible’. Gazillions of NGO’s, charities, left-wing groups and interested people dancing about before a stage that hosted charismatic speeches interspersed with sensual and exciting music.

Had to leave the party early for experience number 2: to attend my German flatmate’s farewell bash. Her project had been mapping the pit latrines in Africa’s largest slum (Kibera) so she wanted her party to include those friends and a few of us travelled down to the slum to drink beer and eat Nyama Choma (roasted goat meat). I had not seen an African slum before, close up, and only now got to see the very edge of this place which is home to over 1 million people. The dirt; the rubbish heaps; the foul smelling ditch with what might have been sewerage running down the middle of the track; the people looking up to smile as we walked by; the community all living on top of each other. Banter was fun in our part room and Patrick (secretary to the local resident’s committee) explained to us something of what life was like. Crime was almost non-existent. Community life was too strong to allow theft. Two middle class African girls laughed at their naivety as teenagers. Not knowing, properly, till their twenties about the facts of life. Children in the slums apparently grow up knowing these from an early age since there is no privacy, but they still don’t know real facts. Nor get good HIV education. He told us enthusiastically of how David Miliband (UK Environment Secretary and wildly tipped to become Prime Minister one day) had visited him in November. Patrick thought that he had been very sensitive and sharp, asking clever questions and seeming to genuinely care.

It was dark as we left the slum, but Patrick and friends had us under their official protection we weren’t worried or expecting experience number 3. We found our way back to the main road and started walking along to where our Taxi Driver was waiting. Then I heard screaming! Coming from somewhere… in front… right… down. Mita (my Dutch/Indonesian flatmate) had stepped off the tarmac and fallen down a 3 metre hole. I couldn’t even see her at the bottom in the dark, but Patrick and his friend Francis leapt down into the shit at the bottom to pick up the whimpering girl and drag her out. Shaking and wet we bundled her into a taxi and took her to Nairobi Hospital. After a few hours she was joking and laughing again but still delicate as we got her back in the taxi to arrive home shortly after midnight, not expecting experience number 4.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned before but my flat is within the Kenya Comfort Hotel Suites that is literally spitting distance from a small slum. The slum has shops, businesses, a pub, a church and a very annoying cockerel that wakes us up at 5 am each morning. I’ve been meaning to venture into for weeks now. I know several people who live there including our laundry lady, Sarah, and the ladies who run our corner shops.

But when we arrived back home we could see something wasn’t right. Lots of people milling around on the main street. We went up to our flat and looking out the window could see a bulldozer ploughing through our neighbourhood slum! Just rolling through the corrugated iron contractions that people call home. Happily squashing everything in site. People could be seen ducking in and out of the rubble carrying chairs out of their houses. The city council have declared it an illegitimate settlement (complete with water and electricity) and it must go.

See how close the slum is to our swimming pool.

I just felt sick. What could I do? The middle class Brit inside me thought about running down and standing in solidarity with the slum dwellers, blocking the way of the bulldozer. I thought cynically about the World Social Forum and how at least 50 delegates were staying in our Comfort Hotel Suites. Probably looking out the window… doing nothing. But what could anybody do? Apparently the bulldozer had come with an armed escort. And you don’t want to mess with the police in this country

They've rescued some belongings and all there is left to do is drink.

I had to help Mita get to bed after returning from hospital and after a while the noise stopped. Looking out again, half the slum was in carnage, half remaining and the bulldozer stationary. A bit braver, I ventured down to enter my second African slum that day. I didn’t really know what to do. I wanted to offer support. I wanted to say something comforting. I didn’t want to invade a community in which I didn’t belong. I didn’t want to appear like a western voyeur of poverty. I got chatting to a group of guys. They said that the bulldozer had broken down. As Mr Obed Anjele Ochuacho took me over the ruins of what had been his small shop (a green grocers) we talked. The demolition had begun at 10 pm on Saturday night. Some families were in bed. Some people were out. He had not heard that this would happen although others said they were informed yesterday. He showed me where his still-standing house was. To be knocked down as soon as the City Council found a spare bulldozer. Some people were madly scrambling through the rubble trying to save things. Others were just standing there in bewilderment. Looking lost. “Why rescue things? Where will we take them? We have nowhere else to go.”

I called Sarah, our laundry lady, and asked if she wanted some money. Not now, she said. She had to wait with her belongings. She could not leave them.

I’m back in my flat now; 2.15 am; the bulldozer has just begun again; and the shouting. I feel sick. Sad. Helpless.

My German flatmate, Christina, says

“You come here wanting to help, but you can’t.
Not when the government doesn’t care.
These people. They had nothing. And now even that has been taken away from them. It’s so cruel. People are losing their houses.
The place I got my cold tusker beer; it’s gone.
The place I got my veg; it’s gone.
The place I got my meat when I cooked; it’s gone.”

Despair remains copyright of the author happydaves, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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I find I am getting annoyed by the Christianity here in Kenya. In the UK, some people yearn for a faith that is constantly present and visible and active in society, but seeing it in Kenya I am pleased we have moved past that.

Overly established Christianity leaves itself so open to arrogance, superiority, abuse, corruption, rigidity and intolerance of difference. This is a constant problem of a religion that was originally inspired by a man who came to challenge the arrogance of an established order of his day.

In church on Sunday, the sermon was about how Christians should reach out to the foreigners and never return insult with insult, but instead love – but then in the same service the prayers (given by a parishioner and not a priest) were petitioning god to protect us from the wave of Islam that is threatening the country. You will not be surprised that I didn’t yell out “Amen to that!” but I was disappointed to hear this in an Anglican church.

Easy-listening music in supermarkets in Britain is never a beautiful experience, but transfer that to the Christian easy-listening genre in Kenya and UUGGGGHHH! I just don’t want to listen to threats/promises about how Jesus will change my life as I’m choosing my Dijon mustard. I don’t know what the head scarfed lady beside me was thinking.

Not all of the songs are that bad as songs and some are perfectly nice in the home (Michael Row the Boat a Shore being one of the better ones and didn’t contain any threats), but what really annoys me is that most of them are European/Western creations. I had hoped Africa would be full of African Gospel songs of the type sung by the black slaves in America… or vibrant multipart ones, like those sung by South Africans who visited Scotland, but NO. There are very few of these. The same is true of the two churches I’ve visited here.

Matatu music is also too often Christian. Yesterday I had to listen to Zion Express FM on my way to work. Sometimes you get reggae Christian music instead, which is definitely preferable.

Faith here isn’t all bad. Annike (who I wrote about earlier) said that there are churches all over the slums and while Annike is a dedicated atheist, she truly believes that they have an amazingly positive impact on the people they serve. Also, that Pentecostal church I visited had an HIV testing clinic one Sunday. The pastor had apparently encouraged the whole congregation to be tested and receive counselling if necessary. Nobody was to judge anybody for being uncertain about their status (one reason being that everybody had a past before they were born again).

And nicely linked into HIV. I’ve found it very encouraging how much HIV/AIDS is talked about here. Unlike India (which has recently been designated the country with the most HIV+ people in the world) where AIDS is denied, hidden, stigmatised against and unknown I have had a conversation everyday here in Africa about the condition – and very few of them have I initiated. People talk about it. They are aware and concerned. While some are still confused about protection, thinking that condoms don’t work and so there’s little point using them.

Religion in Kenya and HIV/AIDS remains copyright of the author happydaves, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Good Morning!

You know, one thing I hate is how during the week I get up at 6:45 (ish) and then it comes to Saturday morning, and no matter how late I’ve been out, I still wake up at 6:45.

So, this week has been more getting used to Nairobi. I’m beginning to know my way around (the areas I visit) and know how to get to town, work, couple of pubs etc. So in a way the excitement of NEW PLACE is fading and I’m in that middle slightly time between adrenaline newness and really settled in and know what to do with my time, my weekends, having made friendships with people who I can hang out with whenever I want.

I was chatting with my flatmate Mita, who’s been here for 4 months now, about how I’m still always overly aware about my personal security. Who is sitting beside me on the bus or matatu? (A matatu is a small minibus used for public transport that smells badly, is crammed full of people and plays bad music). Where are their hands? Near my pockets? What’s in my pockets? How open are they? Or as I walk down a street… Who are the people walking towards me? What are their intentions? Which side of the street feels safer? I think I’m still affected by those horror stories you hear about Nairobi. It’s not really that bad and Mita says that this excessive awareness fades with time. Or maybe you still remain aware, but are no longer consciously processing it all the time. Although, many of the real UN staff would never take public transport or walk anywhere… but then UN benefits allow for this.

These security issues and my lack of knowledge of the city also mean that I don’t feel as free as I would like. I miss having a bicycle, but that’s impossible here (my matatu knocked a cyclist over pretty badly yesterday). The 7 UN interns upstairs from my flat have moved out and I’m missing them, but now they’re half way across town near the UN complex… not sensible/possible to get to by public transport at night and pricey (15 euros return) for unshared taxis – doable, but not everyday.

All these security concerns have a knock-on effect on my exercise, which I miss. I do not walk/cycle around here and I’m determined to find some way of getting fit.

I’m also aware that I only know a bit of Nairobi… the nice bit. And as home to the largest slum in Africa and with 70% of the population living in slums I feel that I’m quite sheltered from a major part of the city. However, several of the interns I’m friends with have done their projects in the slums. One Dutch girl (Annike) is an architect making a plan to improve the two sports fields in a slum that houses 1 million people. At present, they’re both just mud and she’s trying to re-design them so they are safe with good lines of sight, and light (sponsored by a mobile phone company) and flat etc. Another German flatmate (Christine) is mapping the pit latrines in the slum and recording the quality and state of the sewers, drains: an official map shows adequate sewerage for the slum, but her photographic evidence reveals otherwise… sewers broken, toilets that flood when it rains and wash past open rubbish dumps down hills into schools, churches and houses. Then Mita (half Dutch, half Indonesian) is assessing the capability of clinics/labs around the slum to test for TB. Cristian (from Colombia) assesses the impact of a bicycle and cart project for waste collection that was hoped would be used for income generation within the slum.

I’d like these other interns to show me the slum sometime so that I can get an insight into how many of the people in this city live – although as I ask them, I’m reminded of a comment by an Indian friend that I’ve heard some white people come to India to see poverty – if that’s true, then they are just there for a peep-show on poverty, which is sick.

Settling in remains copyright of the author happydaves, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Thought it was time that I blogged again to let you know about my exciting Christmas. I’d only been here a few days and hadn’t really got friends yet. I have met lots of nice people who will hopefully develop into friends, but most most of them had booked holidays to the coast (near Mombassa). So I was really grateful when the Brazilian UNEP (United Nations Environment Programme) intern from upstairs called Napoleon invited me to a little party at a Canadian girls house for 24th night. After attending a carol service at the cathedrale, I made my way to the fun party, complete with Turkey, and reminded me a lot of being in Halls at York with people from all over who had nowhere else to go.

Christmas morning I got up early and not really wanting to hang around in Nairobi with nobody to spend it with I took a Matatu out to Lake Naivasha. A Matatu is a local form of public transport a bit like a smallish minibus, crowded with smelly locals, that drives far too fast. At lake Naivasha I went cycling through Hell’s Gate national park which has some animals stuffed between a beautiful gorge. I saw Zebra, Giraffe’s and Baboons

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That evening I went to sleep in a little campsite on top of a hill with a beautiful view over the lake.

Next morning (Boxing Day), after another walk through animals,
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I found this Zebra Crossing quite ironic

I visited the house of the lady from the classic film/book Born Free about the lady who hugged a lion called Elsa.

Did a day of work on the 27th, then 28th-30th went on the famous Masai Mara Safari with, again, two girls from upstairs – Claudia and her sister Gabriella (two girls from Bolivia but moved to Sweeden when they were very young). Masai Mara is the pinnacle of African safari experiences. It’s what people come for. All the things you might expect to see in a David Attenburgh documentary, right before your eyes and in July/August it is host to the enormous Wildebeast migration that has recently been designated as one of the 7 natural wonders of the world.

So we left early in the morning, getting a view of the rift valley on the way,

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hoping to reach the Mara by early afternoon in time for a few hours of animal spotting. However, a couple of hours along the way we ran into some lorries blocking the road: one broken, the other stuck in mud trying to pass… oh yes, did I mention its been raining heavily and persistently here.
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After half an hour or so and some pushing we were on the road for another 20 minutes before reaching another lorry slippage – the blue vehicle had somehow managed to get stuck fully crossing the road.
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After another couple of hours in the cue, a path around the lorry was found that involved the minibus slanting at about 40 degrees into the ditch. Needless to say, watching all the human activity surrounding a big blockage was enjoyable with all the people getting very involved.

Also, with Claudia and her sister being the children of a political refugee from Bolivia we had plenty to talk about.

At two further points on the journey we got to unpassable mud splats along the rain drenched road and had to get toed by tractors, jeeps and at one stage toe another minibus ourselves. Along the way we saw a few ostriches and zebra. By the time we reached the Mara, it was already past dark so we had dinner and went to bed.

Next morning we entered the park heavily excited at the thought of finally coming face to face with those lions. With all the rain though, the vehicles had to stick to the main roads through the park and had to therefore hope the animals would come close to us, instead of the other way round. Feeling a little disappointed I have since realised that this is a good thing because the vehicles normally drive all over and cause untold damage to the ecosystem.

Hartebeest were our first spot,

Then buffalo,

A family of Mongeese

An Aslan like lion

A vulture,

Thomson's Gazelles

Jackal,

Then a sleepy female lion…

one comment by a fellow tourist is that lions are great, but you rapidly get frustrated with their sleepiness: they spend 18 hours a day sleeping. You want to see blood, the kill, the excitement and the drama. Not just a bunch of lazy oversized pussycats. It’s a bit true, but they really are beautiful anyway.

And it’s incredible how close they’ll come to the vehicle. They are totally un-phased by humans.

Topi

A turtle in a puddle

And then we saw a bunch of 10 vehicles in one area and followed down to see what was going on. We couldn’t see anything on this barren hillside…

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But, oh, if you look closely, on the far left there’re a couple of hartebeest, and on the right a pair of lions hidden in the undergrowth waiting for the hartebeest to look the other direction. We watched for about half an hour… every now and then they’d sit down and the lion would stand and look excited, but then… nothing. No blood. No runs. But one up still on our other tourist friends.

Next viewing was a bunch of cool elephants.
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The baby was cute, throwing dust over itself.
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This one’s for Pete.

Next was a pair of lionesses with 5 cubs. So cute, but difficult to get a close up photo.

Then suddenly, the one mother stiffened and prowled off, keeping low and hidden.

The second mother followed
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Leaving the cubs looking a little concerned.

We, of course desperate to see blood, trailed the lionesses silently on their hunt in our minibus. One lioness trailed a lone wildebeeast for a kilometre or so, the other followed a warthog. We tried to follow both, but alas, neither was successful at the kill.

That had been an exciting morning. So much life in such a short time and small area. Really, you’d be lucky to drive a couple of kilometres without seeing something cool. And Zebras and antelope are very quickly considered to be too numerous and boring to stop for. It’s incredible.

After a good lunch we headed out again in the rain for a couple more hours, but saw less.
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The highlight being a pride of lionesses looking damp and unhappy in the rain.
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And a really cool tree.

So, after our first day we’d seen three of the ‘big five’ namely buffalo, lions and elephants. Still lacking the shy leopard and rhino. But what I really wanted to see was a cheetah. The girls and I shared a beer and dinner and went to sleep in our tents, lulled by the gentle rain,
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Final morning we left the camp at 6 am in the hope of catching some sights before breakfast. Our driver/ guide, Nick, wanted to leave by 10 am since the road was so bad and he was keen (for safety’s sake) to get back to Nairobi before nightfall.

After a night of rain, it rained all morning. We drove and drove and drove hoping to catch some animals, but there was nothing. Nothing. None of the vehicles were seeing anything (they all keep in touch by radio telling eachother where to look). It was still raining, and we were getting wet in our open topped minibus. We were just giving up when the radio crackled into life… we might be lucky, whispered Nick…. And increased his speed.

And there, round the next corner, she was.
A beautiful cheetah. Sleek, feline, damp sitting on her haunches surrounded by vehicles and lapping up the adoration. We could have watched her for hours. But she got fed up of the attention and stalked off, slowly at first, and then she went for the chase and disappeared behind some bushes. I hope she ate.

I forgot my camera though

On the way home, we got stuck in more mud,

Picnicked in more rain

And said hello to some giraffes

Safari on Masai Mara remains copyright of the author happydaves, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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I feel very privileged to have been able to work, eat, drink, dance alongside so many interesting people from across the world. Yes, we all rant at each other regularly about the annoying system, but as Louisa pointed out to me… we get upset because we care about what we’re doing.

My own project has become a little clearer. I’ve been trying to analyse what has been going on with it both in Rome and Africa. Who’s who. Who’s done what. Where the strengths and weaknesses are and what are the best possibilities to move forwards. This is largely in the context of how we can help crop scientists do better science. On the side I’ve also been reading up on how products of research using biotechnologies (such as a new variety of rice that will tolerate drought) actually reach to small poor farmers and the impacts that they may have.

It perhaps shouldn’t have been surprising to me that this is a major major stumbling block. There are countless improved crops which only stay in the lab, or with the rich farmers. It is easy to think that a new improved rice is the answer. Even if we assume that this new improved rice really is great, and has been crossed into farmer favoured lines so maintains all the characteristics that farmers like (which is a big if) then there are still lots of problems.

“But surely”, says the innocent plant scientist “All we have to do is multiply seed and give it to farmers”. But this is quite a big “all we have to do”. Producing seed is apparently a big bottle neck. In addition, extension systems in many countries are inadequate, staff poorly trained and access to information limited.

I’ve also, in the last few weeks, begun to make my mark in a wider sense on the organisation. I think I mentioned in a previous blog the importance of coffees. How the organisation is so big that it can be difficult to find out what’s going on, or how to do things, or who is the key person to talk to about use of rural radio stations to dialogue with farmers about their agricultural needs or who to talk to get a visa sorted for Kenya.

Also got chatting with the volunteers and realised that I don’t really know what each they do, or what their departments are experts in. Ok, I knew that: Frederic was studying migration of fisherman in west Africa; and that Claudine works on promoting the concept of the fundamental human ‘Right to Food’; and that Emily is trying to find machines that will help poor schools make milk from Soy and improve the nutrition of their kiddies; and that Alice studies trade flows of Fair Trade and Organic produce. But I didn’t really know more than that. We thought that it would be a terrible waste of the opportunities given to us to work in Headquarters if we left still not knowing. It was also apparent that some of us could help or advise each other on our projects. For example, Emily may know lots about Soy-milk-making-machines but less about growth of Soy crops, or about its nutritional details. However, Margherita is working on a School Gardens project and could quite possibly feed in background information.

It also seemed ludicrous to me, coming from a PhD background, that there was no structure in place to facilitate our sharing these ideas with each other. So, I (with some help) decided to start up a Volunteers Lunch Club, where any volunteers who want to can come and present their work , ask questions, get advice in an informal, non-threatening environment. Within hours of my first email being sent out I had 20 -30 enthusiastic YES’s. We haven’t done this officially at all and it feels a bit like we’re in a conspiracy to rebel against the formalised system of FAO that keeps us apart.

Then because I was leaving Rome, I handed over responsibility for organisation to some of my fellow conspirators at the end of the first meeting. I missed the second meeting (being in Calcutta, India for Sanhita’s wedding – which was incredible) and by the third meeting, three days ago the Volunteers Lunch Club had already evolved into the Volunteers and JUNIOR CONSULTANTS Lunch Club because some of the young paid staff felt left out and thought that they’d benefit from it too. Assuming the Lunch Club continues into the new year, we’re going to try to hit the Personnel department for formalised advertising to new young staff and suggest that they provide free lunches/coffees for us… worth a try.

Felt a bit sad to be leaving all that behind. My new friends. The comfort of having an environment I was getting used to. But work-wise, it makes sense. I’ve done all I really can do in Headquarters. And I applied for this thing for the purpose of getting field experience. Not corridor experience. So now I’m pretty keen to get stuck into my work in Kenya.

Arrived in Nairobi a few hours ago. Was picked up by a young man called Benson, who’s going to be working closely on my project with me – running the website. He dropped me at my hotel and said he’d come back in a few hours once I’d washed and had a rest. He seems like a nice guy. Laughs a lot and I know he has the respect of my bosses in Rome. I’m a bit nervous myself. Not quite sure what role to play. ‘The man from Rome’. The assertive coordinator. The listener. The motivator. Or just me. The danger of being too assertive to begin with is I might alienate people or not hear what they have to say. But if I’m too meek, I might get pigeon holed into a ‘not respected’ persona. I think, all I can do is be me though. I’m not good at playing games.

Will make a tour of the offices and meet the bigwigs tomorrow.

Goodbye Rome, Hello Nairobi. remains copyright of the author happydaves, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Yup, you will notice that more than a month has passed since I arrived, and Yup I’m still in Rome. You also may notice that my address has changed and you may be delighted to know that this flat has WINDOWS.

So much to say, but where to begin. Hmmm. Ok

Why haven’t I blogged?
The reasons are threefold:
1. Been having to much fun
2. Since I’m still in Rome, I’m doing a desk job – not as exciting to write about as you may imagine
3. I have been informed of my responsibilities as an International Civil Servant

Number 3 may require some more explanation: apparently even though they don’t pay me, I work for the UN now, and signed an oath on a bit of paper. This states that I will be loyal to the UN and not harm it. At first I thought that having to hold back from criticism would make writing much less fun… but now, after much deliberation, I’ve decided that loyalty doesn’t mean keeping silent in the face of problems, because that doesn’t result in change and improvement. But more practically, I’m just going to take the link to my blog off the bottom of my email.

Reading back it makes it look as if I’m about to say some horrific things about FAO, but in fact, I’m not. It’s a great place, but like any beaurocracy, it has its issues.

The main criticism that most of my young colleagues have, would be that internal communication and coordination within the enormous building has room for improvement (I think that’s how teachers used to describe my behaviour on school report cards… unlike my twin brother who was a model pupil, a delight to teach, with such tidy handwriting – sorry I’m diverting. Rant over). Yup, 3000 people not all working in perfect harmony.

We have all experienced a scenario, that we’ve been working on a project or a report for a couple of months and banging our heads against brick walls in search of key materials, data, expertise etc. Then, quite by chance, over a coffee someone will mention: “Oh, but Andrea Marinari does/did/tried/is the world expert on that”. It turns out that some guy who may be in the same corridor, or 5 floors away has something almost exactly identical to what we’re trying to achieve. He may have finished it, he may still be doing it, he may have given up, but he will have some good advice.

It can be quite frustrating, but at my stage I’m being philosophical and seeing it all as a learning experience.

The key thing learnt it that at FAO you should NEVER underestimate the importance of COFFEE breaks. They are not breaks! I consider them to be one of the most important parts of my days work.

So many of you have asked me, WHAT DO I DO?

Well, task one is of course to have coffee breaks.
Coffee in Italy is not like coffee the UK.

Task two is therefore to decide which of the 20 different types of coffee is desired - a big problem for us new people.

Café
Café lungo
Café machiatto
Café lungo machiatto
Café scumatto
Café lungo scumatto
Café late (not to be confused with a late, which is a glass of milk)
Cappucino
Café Americano (what british people drink and considered the lowest form of dirty water available)

All of those can be caldo (hot) or fretto (cold), with or without an Italian or French Croissant (French is much better though).

If you’re female and your coffee has milk in it, then the barman will draw a white heart in the dark coffee with your milk.

Tea is an option, but the stuff they have here in Italy is foul. And they seem to think it should be prepared with water which isn’t quite boiling, so as to stop the oxygen leaving the water… I don’t know why.

One guideline to picking coffees. Italians consider that it is appropriate to have some fat in the morning, therefore a milky coffee (Café Late or Cappuccino) is the correct choice before lunch. Immediately following lunch it should really be one of the espresso varieties… Café, Café lungo that may have a little milk in (machiatto). But after that, it is considered obscene to have any fat with your beverage.

Another important point to remember for those of us used to drinking British Coffee, is that an espresso variety of coffee doesn’t actually have much liquid in it. So in the hot Italian climate, it is important to supplement liquid intake with water in between coffee breaks. Otherwise you’ll get dehydrated and do the rest of your days work, and nights play, badly.

Hmmm, I’ve written enough now.
I’ll try to get back on soon to tell you more about what I do, when not choosing coffee.

Coffee Senor? remains copyright of the author happydaves, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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