Big Changes

Posted on July 16, 2014 by thewildcreanberries

We’ve been in Kenya for 20 months so I thought it was time that I shared about a few things we have had to change since being here.

1. No Hot Water

Our apartment is three floors up. If we had our water cylinder connected up it would cost us $200 a month on our power bill. Instead we had instant water heaters on our shower heads. So, before you jump in the shower at our place you have to flick a switch by the door. The good thing is that you don’t have to wait for the water to warm up before jumping in.

The downside is that we don’t have any hot water that comes out of the taps. We put on a large pot of water to boil while we’re having dinner and because we have gas it doesn’t take too long to heat up.

This is our showerhead.

When there’s no power in the mornings I only have 2 options – a cold shower, or heat up water in our trusty pot and have a wash. I’ve done both and guess which one I like better?

2. Electricity

One thing you can guarantee about the power being on, is that it won’t always be on. For 3 weeks out of a month it seems to be pretty good and then for one week it’s off and on. If the electricity goes off I don’t even bother resetting the alarm clock until I go to bed at night. We have a solar lamp sitting on our windowsill so it’s always charged up. The longest we’ve been without electricity is 24 hours. We got so bored that night we went to the mall to do grocery shopping. When we bought a washing machine we especially got one that restarted at the same place when the power came back on.

3. Towels

I was really challenged by one of our colleagues about how we used new towels every second day. She said ‘Why, you come out of the shower clean, I wash mine every 2 weeks?’ It got me thinking as to why we do what we do. While we have lots of towels, my friend has ever only had one. Of course, when I heard this I was shocked and even though she never asked for it, I blessed her with some more. She had never had a new towel in her life before. So, just to shock you, we use the same towels for a week before they go into the wash.

4. The Car

Carjacking’s happen here often. So, every time I get in the car the first thing I’ve got into the habit of, is locking the car doors. Even when we go through smaller towns where traffic moves slowly and there are plenty of people around the car, the doors are locked. I often have my phone hiding under my thigh so if I’m ever carjacked they can take my money and my car but I at least have a way of contacting someone. The number one rule though is never run out of petrol.

Car jackers usually work in groups, at peak traffic times when there are jams and here they use guns over bats.

5. Don’t Shop Just At The Supermarket

We have a good number of supermarkets here – Nakumatt, Uchumi, Chandarana and lots of shopping malls. There’s also smaller shopping centres dotted around the place. To get any gluten free food I need to go to a shop called HealthyU. Stuff there is awfully expensive but what choice do I have for such things as flour and cereals that I can actually eat and not get sick.

The best place to buy fruit and veges is at roadside markets or out of Nairobi. Generally people think that everything in Africa is cheap – I wish! We travel an hour each Thursday to a place called Kiserian where we spend the day on a training farm. Bananas are half the price there. Overall fruit and veges are cheaper here than back in Aussie but besides that groceries are way more expensive.

Dukas are handy little shops all over the place.

If we need credit for our phone or we’ve run out of something we don’t need to travel up to the supermarket, instead we have around 3 little dukas (shops/stalls) around our place. Be in avocadoes, dishwashing liquid or a bottle of Coke, they have it all. I only meat I get at the supermarket is chicken and mince, anything else is a plain ripoff. Instead we go to independent butchers. Mind you, we found this one around the corner from our house and it stinks to high heaven – never a good sign.

I’ve never bought meat from a place like this.

When stuck in a traffic jam you can buy bags of fruit from the vendors who walk amongst the cars. They also have newspapers, kites, earplugs, maps and toys available.

We haven’t bought any of our furniture at the shopping mall or any furniture stores – it is just way too expensive. Instead we got things made by fundis (tradesmen) who make furniture at the side of the road. If we ever had to leave the country we would definitely get stuff taken back that was made here.

6. Flowers

Oh my goodness, they are so cheap here – all of the time if you shop at the right place. For $2.50 you can pick up a big bunch of roses. This price is only from the small stalls on the side of the road. If you buy flowers from the florist or in the malls they will be the same price as back in Aussie.

7. Security

I noticed when I was back in Australia and New Zealand earlier this year I didn’t have to worry about security and we got really slack. Here you will find guards at every gate, bank, ATM, shopping centre and car yard. It’s not unusual to find guys from the army or police officers with rifles walking around. When you go into the mall or even a church your car is searched. It’s a hassle but better to be safe than sorry. Mind you, Pete asked a guard one day what he would do if he saw a bomb in a car and he said they would all run! Once you enter into the mall your bags and body are checked. Poor Pete, he has a metal pin in his leg and it often goes off. When there’s a threat in the city we are pressured to avoid any public place. We get security updates from the NZ and Australian High Commissions. While we don’t ignore them, we pretty much carry on life as normal. There are a lot more dangerous places to live in the world and we have this philosophy that when it’s your time, it’s your time. I just don’t want it to happen slowly and bit by bit. There is more danger travelling on our roads than terrorism.

It never feels scarey having the army or guards around, unless one of them jumps in your car and points the gun at you!

Of course you also have to change how you speak, and not just in language. You have to learn how individual friends come from different cultural backgrounds and how to respond to them appropriately. What works in your home country doesn’t always work here. You can’t wear short shorts, travel long distances at night and yes, the food tastes different. Driving is insane. The people different.

If it wasn’t different here what was the point in coming?

A Coeliac in Kenya

Posted on June 25, 2014 by thewildcreanberries

In October 2007 I travelled for 9 days to Kenya, then returned back to Sydney. Three weeks later I travelled via the UK to Ghana for a whopping 3 days. Then in January 2008 I started getting night sweats and not feeling 100%. In February I got pain from what I thought was appendicitis, which abruptly stopped at 2pm. Nothing much for the remainder of the year except this sharp pain in my right side.

The doctor couldn’t put it down to anything in particular.

About a year later I was eating a chocolate Tim Tam biscuit and my belly swelled up to what made me look 6 months pregnant. Pete thought it was hilarious. After having tubes put in both ends of my body the doctors told me I was a coeliac. I didn’t even know what it was. It was a harsh blow to find out that I wasn’t allowed to eat anything with wheat in it. There went 50% of my diet.

A few months later the ‘could it be appendicitis’ pain struck at 6 in the morning. Pete took me to hospital, they took the appendix out and then told me the pain wasn’t because of that. The appendix was fine. However, since then the pain in my right side which dogged me for years disappeared. It was the caecum that was causing all the problem, which was connected to me being allergic to gluten.

So here I am in Kenya, a coeliac, with about zero people knowing about it.

I’ve had an interesting 19 months trying to figure out what I can eat and what to avoid. The food labelling here is useless. It might say vinegar but not which type (I can’t have malt/brown vinegar). You ask someone at a restaurant about whether it has flour or gluten in it and you get a blank look.

One of the hardest things is when you go to someones house. The last thing I want to do is offend someone who has gone out of their way to prepare a meal for you to tell them that you can’t eat it. Once I ate a couple of sandwiches and it made me sick for 2 weeks. Bread is a big thing here, usually what someone has for breakfast. A few weeks ago we went to a co-workers house for ‘tea’, but it’s never just a cup of tea here, it’s a full meal. People go out of their way to make your stay nice. These guys had even borrowed from their neighbours a table and couch for us to sit on.

I’ve smartened up a lot and now take a ziplock bag of goodies with me. I also tell Pete to eat ‘for me’ so that it looks good. On Thursdays we travel an hour to a training farm for former streetboys. We have a staffroom and I usually make scrambled eggs for lunch.

Like I said, the hardest thing is the lack of labelling. Even herbs and spices have gluten in them. You only find out when you have to spend a lot of time on the toilet or have intense pain in your stomach to figure out not to get that brand.

We do have some health food shops in Nairobi called HealthyU. Because everything is imported, it’s really expensive. While today they might have gluten free bread mix, tomorrow there might be none. So, I buy multiples of what I need to get. Liz travels back to Australia every few months so she brings me back things I can’t get here.

The big one is chocolate. There is absolutely no chocolate here in the supermarket that doesn’t have gluten in it, not a bar. It’s a tragedy.

Not all chocolate has the same recipe

I get to miss out on chapatis (divine taste), bread, sweets, chocolate and mandazis. However, there is lots of fruit, veges, rice and meat I do get to eat. Yes, it’s hard when people in the office are cooking toast and that lovely baked bread smell goes through the room. However, I get to bring in home baked goodies that our guys have never seen.

Chapati before it is cooked.

I do a lot of home baking. When someone from Aussie comes to visit I always ask them to bring me gluten free flour. I use that for everything instead of normal flour. I just have to add Xanthum Gum and sometimes an extra egg to give it the fluffiness. I can buy gluten free cornflour here so use that for thickening things. And I always, always have a packet of Edmonds Custard Powder in the cupboard.

While it’s tough, it’s not life threatening. Much nicer to be healthy and feeling great.

Daughter of a Missionary

Posted on June 4, 2014 by thewildcreanberries

To be honest, when mum asked me to write this blog post it was just after I had a huge blowout at her about how much I dislike (to say the least) the fact that they live on the other side of the world and had given up their lives to help those in need. People often look at missionaries and volunteer workers and say how wonderful it is that they have given up their lives to help those in need and that it’s such a heroic act. It seems that people don’t often think of the practical things like the sacrifice the rest of their family makes for this to happen. When mum and dad told me that they had decided to move to Kenya I thought that it was a “nice idea” for them to do something different. I had lived overseas before and knew that I would survive without them. But not long after they left for Kenya I felt like my right arm was chopped off. I think this was because I knew they weren’t coming back easily. After a few months of them being over in Kenya I was struggling a lot and decided to move back to New Zealand where all my extended family are.

This was taken one week before my parents and sister left for Africa in 2012.

Here are 5 things I have learned over the past year and a half:

You’re allowed to miss them

I miss the daddy daughter coffee dates, the ability to live at home (DON’T UNDERESTIMATE THE AWESOMENESS OF BEING ABLE TO LIVE AT HOME! Seriously though, I miss it quite a lot and wish I hadn’t taken it for granted), the painful but great back and neck massages mum gives, the long walks on the beach talking about life with my parents, family outings, special moments with my sister (which were few and far between since we were always arguing), and the list goes on. At first I felt guilty that I missed them because they were doing “such an amazing thing” but then came to realise that it’s my right as their daughter to say I miss them.

Most people don’t understand

No one tells you how empty life can be without family. No one tells you how hard it is to organise skype dates between different time zones. No one tells you how scary it is when you hear of bombings and disasters that are just around the corner from where you know your parents are. The matter of the fact is no one tells you because no one really knows until you’re in the same situation. I don’t actually know anyone else who is a missionary’s kid.

Dad’s 3 girls. Not sure how he puts up with us!

Your parents are irreplaceable

The other week I was thinking about the future. What is going to happen when I get married one day? Is my dad going to be able to afford to come to my wedding and walk me down the isle? (He has no option; he’s going to be there whether he likes it or not thank you very much!) When I have my first child is my mum going to be able to be there to hold my hand through the ordeal? How often will they be able to see their grandkids? I don’t want my kids to miss out on having their crazy Crean grandparents around. There is no one who can ever replace my parents in those moments.

Make “other family”

Throughout my life when travelling I have learnt to make other people my “other family” when mine aren’t around. Since living in New Zealand I have somehow managed to find Luke, my prince charming. (Awww!) His family, the Rutlands, have become my family, not because its kind of what happens when you get in a relationship, but because I chose for them to be. His dad, Andrew, takes me for driving lessons, makes me laugh, and gives me great advice. His mum, Sharon, (it’s a weird coincidence that our mums have the same name…) takes me for coffee, gives me hugs and talks with me about life. His sisters, Amy and Hannah, (another weird name coincidence which gets very, VERY confusing) have become my other sisters whom I can laugh with, argue with and cause mischief with. And his gran is one of the coolest gran’s around! I couldn’t do life here without them. I can’t say thank you enough to them for being so supportive and loving me like their own.

Mum and I Skype each week and we message each other all the time.

Accept the fact that there is no such thing as normal anymore

As a missionaries kid you have to learn to modify your thinking of the basic things. What do you do at Christmas time, Fathers Day, Mothers Day, your birthday? Who do you spend those days with? Everyone else has his or her families.

The 4 of us in the US. I left them to come back to Aussie. They went to Kenya.

I’ll tell you a secret: every other day I feel like calling my parents and telling them that I hate the fact that they chose to live in Kenya and that they should come back and live close to me. But I know deep down that this is what my parents are called to do. I know they wouldn’t be happy just living a “normal” life in Australia or New Zealand. And even though most of the time it sucks not having a normal family, I am really proud and glad that they are doing what they love.

This is us on top of Mauna Kea in Hawaii before I went to school there.

Neways, Maccas and Corruption

Posted on March 25, 2014 by thewildcreanberries

I’ve spent the last 6 weeks travelling through New Zealand and Australia talking with both younger and older people about Africa and the work we do there. It’s been quite a transition in getting used to the convenience of life here and trying not to speak in Swahili and then the biggest shock of how expensive food is.

There’s a few things that we don’t get in Kenya where we are based.

Neways. These are a great range of products that have ingredients that don’t harm us. You’d be surprised what chemicals are in our hair, skin and household products. When we lived in Australia we converted as much as possible to Neways products and really saw the difference. 18 months later we still have some shaving gel left, but everything else has been used up. It’s a real bummer that we can’t get Neways in Kenya but that’s not all we can’t get.

McDonalds. Yep, while there’s KFC there is no sight of Maccas. Kenyans love chicken and chips, but there are also some burger bars around the place. KFC is extremely expensive and because I’m a coeliac, can’t eat it anyway. KFC is so popular that sometimes you have to wait 30 minutes for your order.

There’s a big difference on why both Neways and Maccas aren’t in Kenya and it’s very simple – corruption. For any international company to get established in a country across East Africa, there would have to be a lot (and I mean a lot) of ‘incentive dollars’ or ‘lunch money’ handed over. I’m not saying KFC or any other business is corrupt, but I do know for a fact that both Neways and McDonalds could if they wanted to, buy their way into East Africa.

Corruption has strangled the advancement of developing countries. In 1963 Kenya and Singapore were both on the same economic level. I know that there are several reasons why Kenya is in it’s current economic state but everyone knows that corruption has eaten away at the quality of life there. It goes through every level in our communities and it is a horrible thing. It is common practise to be pulled up by police for lunch money, or be given a different price because we are white. While we will do pretty much anything to not be thrown into a Kenyan jail there is always the fight to do what is right.

The pastoral team at our church have made a stand not to give in to corruption even if they have to go to jail. Now, if we can get the other 43 million in our country to do the same maybe we might just be able to turn things around.

So, what do you do actually do for a job?

Posted on March 14, 2014 by thewildcreanberries

Here we (Shaz and Liz) are in the last week of a month speaking tour in New Zealand (NZ) before we head to Aussie to do the same. We’ve been in schools, unis, Rotary Clubs and had lots and lots of coffee catchups with people.

In this month alone we’ve slept in 12 different beds.

Besides the question of corruption the other question I mainly get asked is “So, what do you actually do for a job?” So here’s what we actually do, although every day is different.

Sharon

I try to be in the office by 8.45am but it depends on traffic. Sometimes it takes 5 minutes, other days 30. Basically in the mornings I volunteer with an organisation called Afri-Lift which works with children and youth for very poor backgrounds. On Mondays I’m in meetings until 2pm, Tuesdays I write grants for fundraising, Wednesday’s prepare for a 6 hour teaching day, Thursday teach, Friday do marketing.

The afternoons/evenings are taken up with work for BeyondWater (the Aussie charity we started in 2007), writing LOTS of emails, blogging, social network updates, looking at projects and every now and then taking Pete out for a coffee. I work till about 9pm most nights with my other spouse – the laptop.

Some of the great kids we get to work with.

Three out of four weekends we also have programs on. One Saturday we train youth leaders, another we have a tuition program in the Kibera Slum and the third Sunday of the month we assist with the Riziki Childrens Program. That leaves us one extra Sunday to meet up with some young couples we are mentoring.

In addition we host lots of international visitors, sometimes go to the Kibera Slum with food packages or randomly do things like have the odd day off.

Pete

My days are certainly never dull and boring. Like Sharon, on Mondays we have a staff meeting for a couple of hours but every day/week is different. Sometimes you’ll find me tiling a kitchen, fixing a tractor, buying a truckload full of seeds to transporting tomatoes. You will also see me working with teenage boys training them on the ‘how tos’ of farming. This might mean pulling apart something that doesn’t work and showing them how to fix it. A lot tends to break down and it’s giving the locals the skills so next time they can fix it themselves. When I say things are varied, it’s a slight understatement. One morning I might be trying to find a market for the produce that the trainees grow and then that afternoon helping to install a water tank.

Pete showing one of the boys how to use machinery.

I try and spend 2 – 3 days out at the farm which is about an hours drive. But I also need to be in town to work out all the other stuff. I’m not confined to an office or computer but every couple of days you can’t get away from paperwork. I work with a small team of people who have different roles but one thing I’ve learnt is that you can never over communicate.

Here in Kenya things are complicated and take much longer than say in Australia. You can’t go to one hardware store and get everything you want. Just because they say something is definitely in stock doesn’t mean it’s actually there.

This year I’m trying to take a couple of afternoons off a week. So far I’ve failed miserably.

Every couple of months we get personally involved with our water projects. That might mean driving a few hours to meet up with the community to make sure they’re on track.

That in a nutshell is our life, but it’s much more interesting in reality than in print. We meet amazing people, every day is a challenge and there is lots of work yet to be done.

Why not join us by:

Giving (ask me how)
Joining us (long or short tem)
Find out more (shoot me an email – thewildcreanberries@gmail.com)

The Expat Dilemma

Posted on February 24, 2014 by thewildcreanberries

I’ve read about it, but experiencing it is quite different. I haven’t lived in New Zealand for 12 years and Australia for 16 months. We’re on assignment in Kenya (East Africa) and this visit was to make connections and raise much needed funds to keep us in Nairobi.

Firstly of course is the reverse culture shock – where you return to your home of previous residence. The only chance on our 4 flight trip to exit an airport was in Singapore where we went to my cousins for the day. I’d never been to Singapore so everything was very cool until I spotted a sign that said ‘Be considerate of other drivers and indicate’. I just started laughing in the back seat, I’m not quite sure if it was the 2 sleepless days catching up with me or the thought that this would NEVER happen in Kenya. When we arrived in Sydney there was the increase in early morning train rides that were a shocker and where you felt like an idiot for not knowing. One of the things that really bugged me was the lack of free wireless on offer at the malls. Every mall in Nairobi has some form of free wifi. Because labour is so cheap, toilets at the airport and malls leave for dead the quality of toilets in Aussie. I was so disgusted with Sydney airport toilets but I did appreciate those hand driers that are supersonic and dry your hands with just one pass in the drier.

Liz boarding. The bonus of NOT being 9hrs from the nearest beach.

The biggest sense is that of not belonging. I miss the familiarity of Nairobi and how Kenya works. Sydney is definitely not home anymore. Partly because Pete isn’t there and partly because we have moved on. Liz and I even went to a leaders meeting at our local church and my thought was ‘It’s great here but man would we be bored if we returned’. While it was great seeing friends and family, I also have friends and family in Kenya.

We were only in Sydney for just under 2 days to fly to NZ for a family reunion and then kick off a 6 week speaking tour. The last time I was at a family reunion I was 8 and our family lived about 4 hours away so we didn’t see the others very often anyway. So here’s this bunch of total strangers spending a weekend together at a remote beach that only those 60+ really have memories of. The rest of us sort of knew each other but it was just a matter of who are you, whose your parent and what have you been up to for the last 36 years? The saddest thing about choosing to live overseas is the lack of connection with family. There’s no holidays together, no shared memories. It doesn’t sound much, but it is quite a huge thing.

Downside of 8 weeks on the road – wild hair.

In Kenya, customer service is a top priority but obviously not here. A taxi driver said about our one suitcase “I’m not lifting that into the car by myself”, hmm, don’t become a cab driver then!

I keep reminding myself that it is just different and we are not here forever. It’s not all bad. Family go out of their way to make you feel welcome. People are interested in your story and so far the weather has been good.

It’s early days yet but I think this trip will be worth it. I hold my breath and hope that we raise the necessary funds because we really do want to stay in Nairobi and work with the most amazing young people on the planet.

Size doesn’t Matter

Posted on January 14, 2014 by thewildcreanberries

We seem to be caught up in a world of numbers (how big your church, outreach, youth group), money (how much you are on) strength (how many pushups you can do) and belongings (how many properties you own). Sometimes I get a bit over it. When did numbers and money become the ultimate goal of life?

Sure, I love having money to do the things we want to do, who doesn’t? I love travelling (been to 18 countries, and not just airports), I love speaking to the thousands and I love doing crazy things like white water rafting on The Nile.

Bushwalking in Kenya

But one thing I’ve learned over the years is that there will always be someone smarter, richer, more fit and better at some things than myself – and that’s okay. I’ve completed an MBA but want to do another Masters Degree some time soon but does that make me more than someone who has just done their undergrad? Does it make me lesser of a person because I choose not to do a PhD?

I think it’s time we put quantity aside and look at quality of something.

We are on assignment in Kenya (that’s East Africa if you didn’t know) for who knows how long. There’s no shortage of NGO’s, community help groups, churches or ‘mega outreaches’. If you go into the slums you can see endless schools in tin shacks, lunchtime church meetings and welfare organisations operating. I dread to think how much aid and development money has gone into organisations and I ask myself ‘What impact is it making?’

Now while this might sound a tad negative, actually it’s a good thing. We constantly look at what we’re involved in and are more than happy to see lives changed forever.

Liz showing the trainees how to use the bean sorter

Kids are going to school where before they had no way in. Others are no longer living on the street and stealing, they are being educated and are now in jobs. Some who were sponsored are now volunteering, giving back to their community. We’re working with an organisation that doesn’t have the thousands on the books but their history is quite incredible – schools, sponsorship programs, agricultural training, leadership programs are just a bit of what they’ve done. That’s because they are into developing young people and not just giving a handout.

Teaching computers on a donated laptop

The key is not how many have come through the door of your work, but what lifetime change are you bringing?

For us personally, the person who gives us $5 a month to keep us here is as much as of a hero as someone who gives 10 times more. Every person who gives does so sacrificially. We have those in their seventies who give from their small pension. There are those who are students who have an after school job and give to us, while others give from their house rentals. It’s not about the amount but the impact it’s made.

Some generous person gave us $500 as a one off gift and from some of that we were able to give some teenage boys their first ever Christmas party. That meant small presents, a buffet lunch, party hats, streamers – the works. They got involved in making the meal and decorating the room and it was a special time for all of us – especially our family. Rather than being a day where we miss our youngest daughter (even more than normal), we were out with a bunch of kids who had no place to call home. But this was only possible because someone sacrificed A LOT.

Present opening

So please don’t look down on what you do or give – it does make a difference – if not to you to the person you are helping out.

It’s not the size it’s the heart motivation that the action is done in

Want to find out how you can help in our work – check it out HERE.

A Kenyan Wedding

Posted on December 23, 2013 by thewildcreanberries

Weddings here are quite different to what we’ve experienced in the West. If I were to start a business here it would be in the wedding industry – there’s masses of money to be made. Our friends Steve and Edith invited us to a business partners sons wedding in Nakuru. It meant leaving home at 6.30am and returning the next morning at 1.30am.

We took Steve’s Pajero which broke down half way through the trip so we had to wait for another car to come from Nairobi. I was quite happy with that as the service was 4 hours long! We got their in time for the last 45 minutes. It was all in Swahili except for when the MC gave instructions for the reception.

Check out the video HERE

Because we were two of only three white people we were all the rave for shaking hands. As if I could remember any of their names!! We even had photos with the bridal party. Instantly we were family.

Silly me thought I would go to the toilet when we got to the reception area as it was a sports club. We got there to find out that it was at a sport grounds in marquees. I wasn’t sure if I could make it through the day but then the MC announced that there was a washroom AKA toilet in another area. The day was saved!

The cakes

At Kenyan weddings there is lots of dancing, usually before the bridal party arrives. I used the excuse of a sore foot (it was true) but a bit hard to explain a neuroma when no one can see it and wearing high heels is a killer. It was a convenient excuse from being totally embarrassed, especially when you’re the only white women amongst hundreds.

We ended up sitting in the VIP area right next to the grooms parents. The food was typically Kenyan so very nice. By the time we had food the bridal party still hadn’t arrived. Apparently they might not do so until the end.

The bridesmaids

The setup was that the brides family sit under one marquee opposite the grooms family with lots of grass in between. In the middle were several cakes under a smaller marquee.

After the bridal party arrived of course there were the speeches but the important part was the family gifts. It was a major competition between the families about who could bring more and bigger presents. It was mentioned about the gifts that had already been given like an oven. Of course when it came to the grooms side it was done with much ceremony and pomp and the announcement was made that the father had bought them a piece of land.

One of the many marquees

We thought it was all over until the cake cutting ceremony. The bride kneels to feed her husband a piece of cake and then vice versa. Another cake is cut and then served to the parents (and us), they didn’t get it that I can’t eat cake because I’m gluten free. Hope they didn’t think I was a snob!

After everything we planned to head home, but no, we had to go to the parents place for an after wedding thing, apparently it’s the norm. Hence we didn’t get home until 1.30am!

What To Remember When Going to Hells

Posted on November 26, 2013 by thewildcreanberries

Last week Pete announced that we were going to have a day off – it was a miracle! We often work on weekends and sometimes the weeks get really long. I’d always wanted to go to Hells Gate so last Wednesday that’s exactly what we did.

Easy riding when it’s downhill.

Hells Gate is one of the many national parks we have in Kenya. With our handy residents card we can get in to some of them for $5 while tourists pay $40. It’s the only park where you can jump on a bike and ride through the wildlife. There’s a dirt road which is in pretty good condition and you can literally just stop and make your way to the animals any time you like.

Lots of cliffs around, somewhere up there are baboons.

If you’re into rock climbing there’s a point about 5 minutes ride from the gate on which to practise. The deal is you have to hire a professional to assist, and we’re not really into that type of thing anyway.

One of the few zebras that we could see up close.

About 2km’s from the park entry just as you turn the corner there are guys waving you down to hire their bikes, we kept going. First thing to remember – hire your bike from these guys and not at the park. The park ones are crappy as. My gears wouldn’t change, the back tyre was half flat and Pete had to disengage the rear brakes because they were rubbing badly. His chain kept falling off and he couldn’t change the gears either. We didn’t notice these things until we were a few k’s up the road.

It’s a pretty big place.

You think the KWS (Kenya Wildlife Service) who manage all the national parks would maintain their bikes – oh, there’s no such thing as maintenance here! We called into the bike hire place outside the park and for the same price there were way better bikes.

Plenty of these at the entrance to the gorge.

Nairobi was wet when we left and we weren’t sure what the weather would be like in Naivasha where the park was. It was 2 hours away so it had to improve. We took raincoats anyway but didn’t need them. However it would’ve been good to take sunscreen – which we didn’t. While we did end up riding through a thunder storm (a bit scary) before that it was rather warm. At least we had a couple of litres of water – a must over here. I knew I was getting burnt but it all came out that night – my nose and forehead were as red as a beetroot. So while we take the antibacterial handwash with us I must remember to throw in one of the many sunscreen bottles we have in our cupboard.

Warthogs. We kept yelling out “You calling me a pig?” Pumba quote.

Having a decent camera is important. There actually weren’t that many animals and they were all away from the road. Sure, we could get off our bikes and try to get up to them but these are wild animals and they ran as soon as we moved. There were lots of warthogs, a few zebras, gazelles, antelope and a few big birds. I was waiting to see some giraffes but these were a no go. It’s probably one time I’ve taken very few photos. Although I’ve got a zoom lens it’s still not big enough. One day I hope to invest into a big beast to capture better photos of these marvellous creatures.

Only here can you find a geothermal plant in a national park.

Set aside your whole day to go to Hell’s Gate. I’d seen some amazing photos of The Gorge and really wanted to see it. We didn’t get to the park until 11am and with our detour to the camping ground (Pete wanted to suss it out) and crappy bikes we got to the gorge about 1pm. I could see the storm clouds starting to roll in. You can either take the 20 minute or 90 minute trek each way. While we could buy drinks at the rangers station you couldn’t buy lunch. We said no to the gorge, leaving it for next time (when we could drive in) when Liz would be with us. One of the great things about Kenya is that you can pretty much buy fruit and veges on the side of most roads. Pete had bought these really nice bananas so they kept us going all afternoon.

You can’t climb this mesa – which locals call a volcanic plug.

Because I thought we’d be doing a lot more walking I wore my hiking boots from Mt Kilimanjaro. They were a slight overkill, I’m wearing sneakers next time. It’s the short rainy season here so I wasn’t sure how wet the ground was going to be. In fact things were pretty dry. We haven’t been bike riding for years so our butts were a bit sore for a couple of days afterwards. Pete more so than me because I wore my mountain shorts, his were way thicker. We both forgot hats (you don’t wear helmets here) and didn’t need a jacket (which stayed in the car anyway). Basically, go prepared for any type of weather, use toilets at the start of the park and go and have lots of fun.

Our bikes having a rest, they were tired.

Hell’s Gate is good if you want to get out of the city for the day and just meander along. There’s no rush and there’s certainly plenty of places around to stop for food afterwards.

A Bit Different To The Easter Show

Posted on October 7, 2013 by thewildcreanberries

This week we attended our first ever International Agricultural Show in Nairobi. We went with Beryl, our agricultural teacher and Gary our new Canadian friend. The traffic was so congested getting there that we left our car parked at the nearest mall and we piled into Gary’s car for his driver to drop us off. We also went back another afternoon but caught pikipikis (motorbikes) and got there really fast.

Entrance into the show, cash only

Because there were 5 of us (Liz took a day off work) we ended up splitting up into two groups.

This show is nothing like Sydney’s Easter Show. Firstly, it only goes for one week and it only costs $3 to get in. And – lunch cost a whopping $2.50. There was a large outdoor arena where the President spoke on the day we went and there were the normal shows like bands, entertainers and marching teams. However, you had to pay another $2 for that, which we forewent. There’s also no woodchopping events, which are always great to watch.

Some sites were tents, or like this one, inside a building.

One thing we did notice is that there were hardly any pamphlets on offer. Every stand/tent/expo site had a guest book which you felt obliged to sign (cue endless followup calls). At some places you had to buy their handbooks ($1) but some were worth it especially on how to raise animals. Business cards seemed to be in short supply as well. At most sites there was an ‘in’ and ‘out’ sign which kept foot traffic flowing pretty well.

My $2.50 lunch – beef stew, rice and cabbage.

What wasn’t sparse was the amount of places to buy water or have your photo taken in front of a gaudy photobooth. Gaudy with a capital G. There didn’t seem to be any price hikes on drinks and food just because it was a special event, water was only 30 cents a bottle. There seemed to be endless ugly photobooths. I’m talking about large stuffed animals, Christmas decorations and weird backgrounds. Kenyans love photos and it amazed me how these were one of the hits of the show.

One of the photobooths.

We avoided the rides and you can see why in the photo below. There were only rides that went round and round (vomit machines) and there were no safety rails. So, if you fell out, too bad. I tried to convince Liz to go on a camel ride but there was no way she was going on one of those things. Liz had a blast though and couldn’t wait to go back for a second day.

Typical ride – without safety bits on them

So, if you’re in Nairobi when the agricultural show is on I definitely recommend it.

Couldn’t get Liz on one of these

Just a few things to note:

– Go midweek, the later in the week the more people there are

– There are ATM’s but take cash anyway

– Be prepared to be fully checked at the entry gates for security

– Wear comfortable shoes, a hat and sunscreen

– There are toilets, you just have to pay 10c to use one

– Buy a map, it’s worth it

Take a look at the sign

thewildcreanberries

Our Adventures In Kenya & Beyond

Category Archives: Food