Oh, I'm an alien...

... I'm a legal alien, I'm an alien in Nairobi.

I am now an officially certified alien. I have the card to prove it. Although, confusingly, I applied on the 12th April (hence the date of issue above), it was finally ready today, about 6 weeks later, and it expires on 29th June, a month tomorrow. I don't know if I have to go through this process every month or not. The Department of Immigration is based in Nyayo House, which used to contain the 'infamous' torture chambers reserved for political opponents under the old regime. I believe they've kept the same customer service department. 

So I've spent most of this afternoon trawling various government websites to find out how one goes about renewing the card, or whole long it should be valid for. Obviously, I haven't found anything remotely useful, but I did come across this, which struck me as slightly peculiar.

Is that a very natural combination?

Embu

After about 7 months of asking, I finally managed to wangle a place on a work-trip, to Embu, the provincial capital of Eastern Province. Here's what the guidebook has to say:

Embu is located on the southeastern slopes of Mt Kenya, but is actually the provincial headquarters of Eastern Province. It's home to the Embu people, close relatives of the Kikuyu and Meru. There's little reason for tourists to stay here. 

Hmm. So it's not the most interesting place to visit. Apparently, the views of Mount Kenya can be reasonably picturesque, but the weather was so cloudy while I was there that I never actually saw it. Also, when I asked people where it was, they tended to point in different directions.

We were due to set off on Sunday morning, so I arrived at the office at 11 all ready to leave. Obviously, having still not learnt my lesson, we didn't actually leave until 3, so I just spent most of Sunday daytime in the office. Fun times. Embu's about 2 hours' drive away, but with the Nairobi traffic we didn't arrive until well after 6. Checked into the hotel, met my two roommates:



I call them Nick and Dave, on account of their superficial willingness to get along, despite clearly differing political views (Satire!). It's also virtually impossible to tell which one is which.

That evening we went out for dinner - nyama choma (roast meat) - where one of the Directors foisted many beers upon me and dispensed useful advice on polygamy, the general rule being "Be faithful, be careful, or be Luo". (I suspect that joke works better with a passing knowledge of Kenyan tribal stereotypes).

The workshop the next day finished by lunchtime, so rather than heading straight back to Nairobi, and avoiding the rush-hour traffic, we decided to go on a dam tour (this same Director apparently being a bit of a dam nut). So here are some pictures of a dam, shot right before the security guard started running towards us and pointing at the 'No Photography' sign:



If you're interested, these dams provide about 50% of Kenya's total electricity supply, and are full to capacity following the recent rains, yet our workshop (a few miles down the road) had to be powered by a generator because the power cut out in the morning. Still, at least it gets you out in the open air. 

Mater Heart Run

I was up at 6.10 this morning (a Saturday) for a 10km charity run which started at 7am. Obviously, this being Kenya, it didn't actually get going til well after 8. Fortunately, the people I was running with, having being in Kenya for longer than me, predicted this and we were there in perfect time.

The run itself went well enough, my careful preparations of getting ill on Thursday night then not eating anything all of Friday obviously paying off, but the whole thing epitomised so much of what can make living in Kenya difficult at times.

Firstly, there's the timing issue. That's to be expected by now, and if they had actually started on time there would have been outcry because nobody would have been ready (ourselves included). When everything is late on a regular basis, people assume everything else will be in the future - which makes it impossible to do anything on time.

Next, the route for the run had to be changed at the last minute because there was a demonstration planned in town. Kenya is currently debating a new constitution, which is proving reasonably divisive. It's nice to see that people are politically engaged (to the extent that, at the last election, some constituencies had electoral turnout of well over 100%), but it can get tiresome.

Finally, this run was in aid of a children's hospital in Nairobi. There were a few thousand people running, including many large groups of children, maybe 8 to 12 years old. Yet the roads weren't closed off. At one point, we were running down one of the main highways in town, with buses and lorries whizzing past us at 60 miles an hour. The pavement comes and goes and there's no hard shoulder. You're breathing in exhaust fumes (and believe me, some of the exhausts here have to be seen to be believed) and children are running round as the traffic goes by. Unless the hospital were specifically looking for new patients, it seems to show a shocking lack of preparation.

Anyway, we all made it through - in 47 minutes (as I said, there's no way it was actually 10km) - and it did make breakfast feel all the more deserved.

Sunday Morning

Breakfast in the sun on our balcony, overlooking State House gardens. Very pleasant way to start the day. Not pictured: the giant bug that made me jump and spill my coffee.

I decided last week to enter a 10km charity run this Saturday, which gave me about 10 days to get into shape. I'm not sure this is long enough. A combination of the altitude (Nairobi's at 1600 metres), the heat and a general state of unfitness lead me to think I'll be taking it very slowly. It's also at 7 in the morning, which, as those who know me will be aware, isn't exactly my optimum time of day.

For the moment, though, I'm rewarding myself with a fried breakfast each time I go for a run, which is turning out to be excellent motivation.