Settling in (and the stupid things we do when we leave home)

Settling in (and the stupid things we do when we leave home)

Sorry for the late update. There was a problem at 'The Penthouse', so I got moved to a new apartment in the same complex. The new penthouse is lovely, bigger and more glam than the last one, but the downside is the wifi connection is a bit hit and miss. The management have been promising to have it repaired for a week now. Pole pole!

Well, I've been in Nairobi over a week now. The security men at the gates now recognise me, wave and say Habari yako (hello, how are you) as I pass by.  My Kiswahili is expanding from zero to a few words, so I now know to respond with Nzuri sana (I'm very well). I've adjusted to the weather and to the hazy sunshine.

I spent the first week feeling tired all the time, then it struck me - altitude sickness! (well a very mild version of it anyway). Nairobi is at a much higher altitude than Yorkshire and takes some getting used to. Pepto-bismol (the luminescent pink gooey stuff) has been recommended as an effective remedy. Not sure how or if it works but as I am prone to heartburn anyway, it can't hurt to try.
I've been welcomed by Kenyan residents - Nigerians and Kenyans alike - who've gone out of their way to help me settle in. I've been shown where to go for essentials and been advised - repeatedly - not to wander about on my own as it's not safe and to avoid downtown because of the risk of crime. I've found the place to replenish my supply of Merlot! I've ventured outside Lavington and Kilimani to Kileleshwa, Parklands and Westlands. The family of a friend of a friend took me to lunch at a lovely roof top Chinese restaurant with a panoramic view of the city (and some delicious crispy friend okra).

Now, I have been advised repeatedly not to walk from the penthouse to the office. But it seemed absurd to wait ages for a taxi that takes 30 minutes in traffic to complete a journey that I can walk in 20 minutes. So one evening a few days ago, I decide to walk home after work.
Now, those of you who know me will know about my legendary sense of direction; legendary for its non-existence - I get lost in a carpark! But there's something about being in a new place, away from home that is totally disinhibiting; we start to believe that we are invincible and capable of stuff we would normal not be. We become less risk averse. That's why people do daft things on vacation. Well, that's my excuse. I mapped the route in my head, checked google maps, checked my phone data was working as back up, loaded my backpack and set off for what Google estimated would be a 25 minute walk (I reckoned 20).  (I can just imagine the look of horror on my PA Deby's face right now).
Thirty minutes later, yes you guessed it, I was lost!!

Now I had been warned repeatedly not to speak to strangers so that I don't reveal my JJC (Johnny just come, as we say in Nigeria) status, and thus mark myself out as an easy target. So I decide to try and retrace my steps. I get even more lost. It's now an hour since I left the office; Google maps refuses to load on my phone and it's getting dark. I'm beginning to panic. I look around for a friendly face and pick a harmless looking young woman and ask for directions, thinking I can't possibly be that far off target. Boy am I wrong! When I ask for directions to Valley Arcade (the shopping centre close to The Penthouse', she looks at me in amazement and says 'where have you walked from, you are very far from there'!  She issues a series of complicated instructions, sees the mounting panic on my face, then offers to walk me part of the way back.

Did I say how nice Kenyans are?

She walks with me for about 25 minutes, then points me in the right direction and goes about her way. It's dark now, phone is dead and I don't recognise any landmarks. I take the turn she indicated and hope to spot something familiar soon. Another 20 minutes and I'm about to burst into tears; I must have taken another wrong turn! I walk up to one of the gated residential blocks and tell the security guard that I'm lost and could he call a taxi to take me home. I must have looked a right state. The poor chap sat me down gave me some water and asked where I was headed. Turns out I was less than 5 minutes from my destination. He walks me back to The Penthouse and refuses my offer to give him a little something for his troubles. Tells me his is a church minister and that it's his duty - and I quote - 'to lead lost sheep home'.  Well this particular lost sheep was glad to finally make it home more than 2 hours after setting off on a 20 minute journey.

Lesson learned: yep, I still have no sense of direction and don't trust Google maps!