The One Where We Go on an Urban Safari (Andy)

(Author's Note: to counter the fact that we literally were doing a Safari in the middle of the city, I had to alter my photos so as to make you think we actually were back in simpler times).

Clearly, one comes to Kenya for the Safari: the early morning game drives; the large, tented encampments; watching the elephants, silhouetted by the setting sun, graze peacefully while you sip your Gin and Tonic to slyly ward of malaria.  However, if one were on a budget or pressed for time, he or she also could go on Safari right in the center of downtown Nairobi. 

As I've stated in a previous post, Nairobi has been a sleepy, backwater town for much of its short life. As a result, it is no stranger to African wildlife.  The rapid expansion of Nairobi over the past 15-20 years could have pushed Kenya's biggest commodity, its wildlife, further and further out into the plains.  But for whatever reason, and I think it was a brilliant one, the Kenyan government decided that the city should have a game preserve and it set aside 172 square kilometers of city land to house every animal any visitor to Kenya could ask for. 

The size of the park truly is amazing and you're immediately taken by the fact that you have no idea how a park this size could remain so well camouflaged in such an urban environment. Upon entering the game area we were immediately greeted by a giraffe, which I thought was nice, then set off on a road to the center of the park, randomly selecting trails that we felt would lead us to the largest sampling of game. 

Like every person on Safari, our main goal was to see lions. But, we warmed up with a few Grant's gazelles, zebra, ostrich, and kudu:

After about an hour of driving around, we were beginning to think our chances of actually seeing a lion were slim. Then, as the road curved around by a watering hole, we spotted a small pride getting some shade under a tree.

After that sighting, it seemed like there were lions everywhere. Seeing a lion in the wild was definitely a first for me and it seemed surreal to actually be that close to them.  We also were lucky enough to spot a lioness with her cubs, a first for all of us,

As we started to drive away, we noticed a male lion in the distance. We were never able to get close to him, but he cut a magnificent profile on the horizon.

The One Where We Get Our Medium Dog (Andy and Kerry)

I (Andy) have to say that, like many of our adventures, I don't seem to ask many questions and, therefore, always am surprised (read unprepared) as the day unfolds. This was definitely one of those days.

Since we decided to take this assignment, we knew we wanted to get a dog but weren't certain what kind. Kerry grew up with a labrador retriever, I with beagles, so settling on a family dog was going to be a little tricky. Eventually it was suggested that it would be good to get a local Kenyan dog, mainly for convenience sake and as a tie-breaker solution to the dog-breed standoff. We knew that at some point we wanted to have two at the same time, we decided the Kenya dog would be my choice and Kerry would get to pick the breed of her choice when we come back to the States.  We were still settling the specifics of the deal when our housing form came and needed to know if we planned to bring a dog and, if so, approximately what size: small, medium, or large. Making a game-time decision, I put down, "we plan to purchase one medium dog." 

After a few unsuccessful inquiries in the weeks following our arrival, our housekeeper Liz mentioned a dog in her husband's village just had pups and we were welcome to one if we wanted to come get it. Perfect! A genuine, pure-bred Kenyan mutt, and for free no less (I would like to note however that there actually are quite a few high-end dog breeders in Kenya breeding Great Danes, Labs, Ridgebacks, etc…, so it wasn't for a lack of options that we went the village-dog route).  All we needed to do was wait a few weeks till the pups could be separated from their mother and we could make the trek out there to pick one out. 

Finally the big day was upon us. We had arranged for Liz to meet us at the house and then she would show us the way to the village. When she arrived, i double checked the distance with her--I was originally told it would take about an hour or so to get there--and she responded, "oh yes, probably two hours…two or three hours." Huh. I should mentioned that, at this point, I still don't have total confidence in the long-distance road worthiness of our new car and the fact that i can't seem to get the locking nut on the spare tire unstuck. Two-to-three hours outside Nairobi is flat tire country so if we were going to do this, my only protection against a flat would be hope.

We left early enough to avoid most of the city traffic but we need to stop on the outskirts of town first to pick up Liz's husband, David, before getting fully underway. 

As it turns out, it was actually David's village we were headed to, not Liz. The road to David's village got progressively worse until it resembled something akin to a road seen numerous times in post-apocalyptic Hollywood movies. Eventually, what little asphalt their was ceased to exist and we spent the remainder of the journey on a single-lane dirt road, a road we had to share with the nomadic herders who genuinely wondered what the world we were doing there. 

Three-and-a-half hours after we started this journey, we had arrived at David's Village.

Okay, Kerry here.  First of all, let me just clarify one thing.  It is my beloved husband who wanted the dog.  I would have been perfectly happy living life enjoying other people's dogs and letting them deal with the hair and kennel visits and everything else.  But, as you can see, I caved.  

Anyway, so after traveling for 30 kilometers on a very bumpy dirt road, we finally got to David's village, which was a real Masai village, not a tourist trap or anything.  We pulled up and saw David's mother, who was standing outside her kraal and we gave her the requisite gifts of tea and sugar and maize meal that we brought.  We also gave her a random bunch of Pepsi Zeros which were on sale at the Embassy store.   Here is a photo of Andy, David's mother, and David.

We were then ushered into her kraal which is basically several buildings surrounded by thorn bushes to keep out any predators.  And that is where we first met our little puppy.  He was there in the yard running around with the chickens.

He was a little shy at first but once we broke out some dog food, he became our fast friend, following us everywhere.  When we saw him up close we noticed that he was filthy, covered with burs and fleas and a good coating of dirt.  From what they told us he has never been bathed and basically lived outside with the chickens and as we watched, he did a good bit of biting the chickens and they pecked the fleas off of him.  He has a little brother or sister puppy but that little guy did not look like it would survive. 

After we played with him a bit, we were fed some tea and then rice and meat and chipatis which were all delicious and thankfully did not cause us any issues on our four hour trek home.  While we were eating, the Masai elders came to visit because they had heard of the strange mzungus (white people) in their village and wanted to know if we had indeed, trekked that whole way just for a dog.  We confirmed that we had and then they asked us --through several translators--if it is true that we were planning to keep the dog in our house.  For the Masai, a dog is mostly a nuisance because it does not provide them with anything.  They just laughed when we confirmed that we were planning to keep the dog in the house.  

Here is our dog with his mother who is sniffing his butt, naturally:

We then tried to rush things along a bit because we really wanted to take the puppy to the vet on the same day and if you have ever been to an African village, you know that any visit can go on for hours.  So we refused their offers of a chicken--alive or dead--and promised to return for a proper vet, slipped a collar onto our dog, and headed home with our dog, Mosby.

He didn't stay in that box long and spent most of the ride on my lap.  It was a long bumpy road and poor Mosby got sick several times but thankfully never peed or pooped on me. 

After we got home we took Mosby to the vet and got him a shot and some flea and worm medicine.  Then we gave him a serious bath and he looked like a new dog.  Here he is, all tired from his long journey to his new home:)

The One Where We Go to Kiambethu Tea Farm (Andy)

We had a day off Wednesday and decided to go with a couple of friends to one of the last remaining, family owned, colonial-era tea farms in Kenya, the Kiambethu Tea Farm (at least I think its one of the last ones). Kiambethu is owned by a third-generation British Kenyan couple, Fiona and Marcus, and is pretty much pulled out of the average persons romantic vision about what a British colonial-era tea plantation should look like. 

The grounds are pristine, as evidenced from below, so much so that you can't help but reflect on the fact that the British had an uncanny habit of picking incredibly good plots of real estate during the imperial days--including, oddly enough, plots that bore striking resemblance to the UK itself.  

The house was built by Fiona's great-grandfather who came to Kenya in the early 20th century and she inherited the farm from her mother a few years ago, rather unexpected; she tells most of the story during her presentation (and its on the website), so we won't bore you with a shoddy third-party retelling.  

The tour started with Fiona giving us a solid 30 min explanation, naturally over a cup of tea, on how tea is grown, harvested, processed, etc., as well as some general anecdotes about Kenya and some of the Farms guests (including, randomly, Jimmy Carter). Afterwards, we headed outside for a tour of the grounds and were distracted briefly by a pair of monkeys that, rather stereo-typically, became active only at the sight of bananas. 

Our tour guide--a Kikuyu tribesman who had worked on Kiambethu since the 1960s--took us through a little bit of the forest area surrounding the tea fields and explained that this forest was the last remaining piece of virgin forest in the region and pointed out many herbal medicines that his tribe has used for centuries. Oddly enough, part of his duties on the farm also include keeping other Kikuyu attempting to take the plants out of the forest.  

The hike didn't take that long and we emerged  from the trail overlooking one of the picturesque fields. 

We returned to the house from the hike and were surprised to find out that our tour included a home cooked meal at the farm house. While I don't have any tea tours to compare this one to, I guess I figured that, if there were to be any food available, it probably would consist of a couple plates of biscuits or crackers and that would be it. But this was a no-kidding, honest to god, meal served family-style at the dinning room table. 

The meal was great--corned-beef, salad, vegetables from their garden, dessert--and I came to realize over the various courses how what we were experiencing had so little to do with the business Fiona and Marcus were running and so much to do with the way English settlers in the region had entertained guests for most of the last century.  This wasn't a show for tourists; it was just the way they were used to having guests.

By way of background, Nairobi up until about the late 1970s wasn't much different from when the first Europeans hammered their way across Kenya building the railroad (that's a bit of an exaggeration, but not much). The city is now, like much of the country, expanding rapidly and erasing much of its rural past. The farm itself, while still very much in the countryside, is slowly being trapped by modern progress, which is sad because you notice how much it remains an active link with history. Nothing here seems contrived or done solely to appease the random Western tourist with romantic colonial-era fantasies (though it does seem to excel on both those fronts).  Rather, this truly is a couple opening their home to strangers for a tour, a meal, and conversation. Anyone coming through Nairobi should visit here.