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Diary Acesta este jurnalul lui Jan. Pentru a primi o copie prin mail inregistreaza-te pe formularul de contact. Momentan jurnalul este numai in engleza, catalana si spaniola.
‹ Previous (23/09/2007) LUNA Next (2007-11-22)› ‹ Previous (2007-10-01 - Zambia) TARA Next (2007-10-29 - Tanzania)› Malawi Mzuzu (see on map) 25/10/2007:
From Liwonde we started to go towards North, crossing small villages and cultivated landscapes. In Malawi there are few cars on the road, but many people on foot and with bicycle circulating on the side of the asphalt. When passing, the children and the women usually greet us smiling and moving hands; the men, also lifting the hand with the thumb up as a sign of approval. We always try to return the greetings, although sometimes they greet us from the fields and we do not realise until we are passing. In Salima we met the Swedes of Cape Maclear again. They were looking for a lorry that could take them up to Lilongwe, the girl had the bicycle broken and they thought that there they could fix it. The Swedes recommended us an economic restaurant in Salima and Alexandra convinced me to go to eat. Beans with Nshima (a mass made with corn flour) asked Alex. Nshima! In Zambia she never wanted to taste it and there she wanted to taste it and she liked it (she told me after to buy corn flour to cook and to eat more). We kept circulating towards north, bordering Lake Malawi but without observing it. But mid-afternoon we decided to approach the edge and spend the night. We followed a road up to a "Lodge" where we camped (I understood that it would cost us 1 $ in total, but the day after they communicated us that were 10 $, anyway I only paid 1 $ as I explained them the limited budget that we had). In the evening I swam with the glasses and feet of duck, but I did not see anything due to the waves (yes, waves in a lake)that were lifting dust muddying the water. On the following day in the morning, Alexandra also bathed. Taking advantage of the beach being very shallow, I helped Alex so that she learned to swim. And finally she could, managing to float on the water swimming as a dog. Later we will improve the style, but she is at least losing the fear of the water. Around midday we reached Nkhotakota, a town that had been the centre of the trade of slaves in the area. One should not be surprised that the town (in the same way that many other towns in Malawi) has some mosques, since in the east coast of Africa, the trade of slaves was dominated basically by the Arabs. Anyway, the main touristy attraction of Nkhotakota is an old mission and the spectacular tree on the side, under which Livingstone convinced chief Jumbe to finish the slaves’ trade (in the 19th century). We got out of Nkhotakota with the intention of stopping to eat under the first "uninhabited" shadow, but the surroundings of the road continued with villages and the only big trees were always near houses or villages. Finally we have parked under a big tree in the courtyard of a school that seemed deserted and we have started to cook. But after little while children shy and curious appeared, that have started to ask us for our names through the window and to ask us also to give them something (I think that they only wanted to interact, but one of the few words that they knew in English was "give me"). In spite of being surrounded with children, we have been able to eat relatively calm and without Alexandra being stressed out. In the afternoon we have followed north, stopping to sleep next to the road, few kilometres from Nkhata Bay where we have arrived today in the morning. We have read that in the south of Nkhata Bay there was a fantastic beach, and like this it was, even though to arrive we have had to pass a path equal or worse than Angola. The beach reminded me of some beaches of Costa Brava, in the North of Catalonia: a small beach surrounded of rocks. This time, Alexandra did not swim because she had the back burned from the previous day. I also, but I have put on protection and have thrown myself to swim among the rocks with the glasses and the duck feet and this time yes I have enjoyed. The waters were clear and full of fish of blue, yellow, grey and black tonality. It was magnificent, but of all the marvels, there was one that has left me stunned. There was a group of minuscule fish that had a form similar to another bigger one that roamed through the surroundings. In approaching me the minuscule fish grouped together and the big fish became suddenly nervous and the minuscule fish have gone towards the big one, the big one has opened the mouth and all the small ones have entered in his mouth. It has not eaten them, it only protected them, because after a while, when the mother trusted that I was not any danger it has opened the mouth and has left out all the small ones. In the afternoon we have gone towards Mzuzu (the capital of the North), stopping half way to buy different types of collars and bracelets thinking that we could sell them in Europe or Australia to finance part of our journey. Before nothing, in Mzuzu we have connected to Internet, which we did not do since Lilongwe (it is difficult to find cibercafés in Malawi). Afterwards we have looked for a place to spend the night. We have circulated through a neighbourhood on the outskirts and observed a house with a very pretty and wide garden. I have gone down to ask them if we could park and a woman has given me the approval although her husband was not home yet. Later, the husband knocked the door and invited us to enter his house. Alexandra remained in the car but I have accompanied him thankfully. Werton and Maria (like this were called) have explained me that the Malawians are hard working people, not as in Zambia, and they are well received to work even in South Africa. The work of the Malawians allows the country to have an acceptable economy, based on the export of tobacco, coffee and tea. On the other hand, the country does not need to import food and therefore, there is no one that passes hunger. But not everything is positive, they have also explained me that the secondary school and the universities are very expensive and few families can register their children to school. 27/10/2007:
Yesterday we go out of Mzuzu with rain. Alexandra told me that the landscape reminded her of Cameroon, and the truth is that it resembled: red and clayey earth, mountains, some forests... Although, on the contrary to Cameroon, the land was cultivated almost everywhere. We reached Chitimba crossing a port, of arid ground, from which a marvellous sight was enjoyed on the lake. In Chitimba we found the deviation towards the town of Livingstonia which we planned on visiting today. So, we spent the midday and the afternoon relaxing in a "Lodge" and left at night because the camping was too expensive. We parked a little further, close to a charming beach (as all around lake Malawi), and while i was captivated observing the waves of the lake, a man approached explaining that we had parked on his land. He thought that he would ask me for money but after asking us mutually about our families, he asked me whether i wanted to buy his land. I asked him the price and answered me that less than 2000€. A land in front of the beach to build a house and to have a big garden was magnificent! I said that when finishing the journey perhaps i would return, i would buy the land and would install myself (Alex also liked the idea), in any case I told him that if he sells it, he should not sell it for less than 3.000 €, and that in Europe, the same land would cost 300.000 € (he did not realised what would mean to have this quantity of money in Malawi). Today in the morning, Alexandra woke up with belly pain; I also, but not as much. Alex said that somebody had done voodoo to us because the day before yesterday i had killed accidentally a hen when crossing a village. Anyway, I thought that the belly ache was provoked by another hen, a cooked chicken that we had bought and eaten yesterday. Today in the morning it also rained, but even so, we have started to go towards Livingstonia, a town founded by missionaries at the end of the 19th century that today preserves a mysterious air of calmness due to its isolation. But this insulation has been the one that did not allowed us to arrive. The dirt track was in a very bad state, but we have kept threading it until we have found a sharp curve for the autocaravan. When trying to pass it the wheels have skated until we have knocked with the snout of the car on a rock unhooking the bumper slightly. Alexandra became hysterical; I have become again annoyed with her new crisis. I have gone out to walk a little, with the car blocked in the middle of road and when I have recovered the calmness I have decided to go back and lose also this visit (some days ago i had wanted to visit the magnificent island of Likoma, in the centre of lake Malawi, but the boats only pass twice a week and would have obliged us to spend 3 nights on the Island, which were out of our budget). We have followed the last town circulating towards the north, till Karonga, before arriving to the border with Tanzania. We have eaten near the beach in Karonga, but we both still had belly ache and were did not enjoy the lake, so we have decided to cross today the border, which we did without too many problems. We have only had a fright when the officers of Tanzania have informed Alexandra that she needed a visa. Alexandra became well annoyed explaining to them that in the embassy in Zambia they had assured her that the Romanians did not need the visa. luckily, after half an hour they have confirmed us that Alexandra did not need an entry visa and that she should not pay the 50 $ that they asked us. Tanzania Iringa (see on map) 29/10/2007:
If the lands of Malawi seemed very cultivated, those of Tanzania seemed overexploited. The earth was black coloured - fertile - and every corner, for where we went, was cultivated with different crops, among them tea. As in Malawi, the small villages, houses and people walking did not stop disappearing in any moment along the road. Anyway, reaching Mbeya, at the beginning of a big plain, the vegetation started to be dry and the lands to be useful only for grazing. In Mbeya, a big town without any interest, we took out money, to put diesel (the price keeps being maintained next to the euro/litre) and to buy a telephone sim card to be able to receive calls. Afterwards we returned to the road; towards the coast and Dar Es Salaam. The lands followed dry and like this have continued until today. Today in the morning, before entering in Iringa, I have visited (Alexandra has preferred to remain in the car again) the archaeological site of Ismila. About 60.000 years ago, in Ismila there was a lake where the wild animals approached to drink and where a group of men ambushed them with lances and other manufactured weapons with cut stone. Many of these weapons and utensils were lost in the water and around the area and nowadays, that the lake is dry, many have been recovered, although some still rest on the earth without anybody deigning to collect them or to classify them. Anyway the archaeological findings do not have any interest in comparison with the impressive clayey formations that there are behind the former lake. The waters have worked for millennia in the valley cutting fantastic walls and isolating impressive columns made of earth. It is worth of visiting it and Alexandra has regretted not coming when seeing the photos. After visiting Ismilla we have reached Iringa, a town built by the Germans at the end of 19th century as a bastion against the tribe Hehe. It’s been a lot of time since the Germans lost the war in Europe and they had to abandon Africa, but Iringa has preserved an European air, especially in its architecture and distribution. Wanting to know better Iringa, today in the afternoon I have done a long hike towards the rock of Gangilanga, a place where the head Mkwawa (one of the most rebel heads of the Hehe against the Germans) used to meditate. The landscape of rocks, high grass and small trees was impressive and I have kept walking (sweating and snorting) up to the summit of the mountain where a great view waited for me. Dar Es Salam (see on map) 31/10/2007:
Yesterday in the morning we walked a little through the market of Iringa, provided with fruits and vegetables of every type. It has been some time since we have seen a market so well provided. In the markets of the villages they sell only two or three types of products: tomatoes and onions, either onions and mango, or mango and cassava, or cassava and tomatoes... In the market of Iringa there were also spices and one should not miss the charming island of Zanzibar( that we will not visit because it would be too costly) that I remember from my previous visit about 4 years ago in Tanzania. In the afternoon we have turned to the road crossing arid plains, green mountains, valleys of baobabs and a nature reserve, where we have seen antelopes and baboons. It is a pity, but in Tanzania (and in Kenya) we will not visit any Nature Reserve, for they are 5 times costlier than in South Africa or Malawi and they are also out of our budget. As we advanced towards the East, we also kept passing sporadic masais by whom Alexandra remained fascinated, looking at them with eyes opened as oranges. She was captivated by their reddish clothes surrounding them from the shoulder, the masses hanging from the waist, the white sandals; their serene look and the paused walk, but especially she was astonished that they were relaxing in the bars drinking beers, they played pool, or they circulated through the road by bicycle or in motorcycle. Anyway, it does not seem that Alexandra wants to emulate the protagonist of the book and film "the white masai"; Alexandra has adapted more to Africa, but not up to these levels. Today in the morning we have arrived to Morogoro, a town without interest where we had to meet a boy from Couchsurfing (www.couchsurfing.com). We have been waiting for him but he didn’t come. So, at noon we have continued towards Dar Es Salaam, where we have arrived late in the night, in the middle of a terrible traffic chaos. Luckily, there we were being expected by another contact, an Australian of Asian origin that lives in a pretty apartment in Dar es Salam. 04/11/2007:
In Dar Es Salaam (Paradise of Peace, translated from the Arab) we have had quite a lot of time to relax in the house of Paul and also to work. I have the intention to present the diary of the African stage to a competition of histories of journeys (in Catalan) and have started to revise and to correct the writings from Morocco. Rereading the journal I have started to realise the time that we are travelling through African lands, with very few contact with the land where I grew up. But I do not miss it (nor I have missed it), probably due to the intensity of the journey in some moments and to the enjoyment in others. On the other hand, when rereading the journal also I have realised that lately I am writing a lot less than at first (during the journey in Europe i also wrote more than at the beginning of Africa). I have thought that maybe the experiences were more thrilling at first, but have ended up concluding that, I am writing less on experiences that are related to every day (where we have slept, where we have eaten, how we have loaded water...), but I am also writing with less detail on the friends that we make, on the cities that we visit, on the emotions... And that I would like to solve, although not necessarily in this chapter or day. Paul, as the majority of Asians, is a man (little older than I am) introvert and reticent to explaining his personal life. However I have a natural trend to ask about the personal privacy of the people (and to explain mine if they question me). Anyway, we have understood eachother very well and Paul has kept opening throughout the four days that we have been parked in front of his apartment, and finally I have found out that he worked for an ONG in Dar Es Salaam. In any case, Paul appeared much more open and enthusiastic talking about his projects and dreams: journeys to Barcelona and Latin America, writing of a book, photographic reports... One of the main interests of Paul was to eat and, although he always preferred cooking, the first time that we ate together it was in a restaurant in the old town of Dar Es Salaam. It was a popular restaurant, with crowds that occupied tables and the waiters running as mad people among them. After eating we went to take a tea in a "te shop", also popular and not very clean. Paul commented that the "te shops" are very popular in Asia and he felt as home. When finishing, Paul returned to work and we walked a little through the old town, with old and fallen buildings (some of the colonial period) next to new and modern buildings. Paul had explained that in two years the city had been modernised quite a lot but I, that i had visited it 4 years ago, did not see it too much changed. The atmosphere was quite Muslim, although one of the main icons of the city that we visited was a lutheran church in the front of the beach which was occupied with bars and very humble restaurants. More in the north, the beaches were more interesting and prettier, but not to swim were full of algae and in plunging with glasses and ducks I did not observe fish, but many hedgehogs. Paul wanted to cook something special on Saturday night and, in the morning I accompanied him to buy in the fish market of the city. The market boiled with movement. Under a shack, there were different low and long tables on which the people met to buy small quantities of fish through auction. To the outskirts, there were more crowds selling fish on plastic bags. In another shack, the cleaner vendors, with the biggest and prettiest fishes, were gathered together and were more persuasive with the possible white buyers. At dusk, while Paul was cooking part of the fish, a friend of Paul, came Ziggy, a German woman 50 years old who worked for the embassy of her country. While we dined the delicious fish that Paul had bought (squid, small fish and another big fish that he had boiled and afterwards submerged in a Soya sauce) Ziggy was explaining amusing anecdotes on the countries in which she had been working as a secretary of embassy. For example she explained that during the communist Poland, one day she complained in her flat out loud exclaiming: "Poland would be a magnificent country if there would be bath plugs", and the day after she found a plug for her bath in front of her door, as proof of the splendour of the country and of the secret services listening to her at all times. Although it’s been two years since she worked in Tanzania, but she did not have good opinions (the Nature Reserves were expensive and the country did not have other appeals apart from these, except for Zanzibar) and commented that as South Africa there is nothing. Today Sunday at night, Paul has cooked fish again; the same delicious menu of yesterday, but the invite has been different. We had invited Xaveria, a tanzanian friend of Paul that we had also gotten in touch with through Internet. But the evening party has not been as interesting as the previous one, basically because Alex was not in a good humour and she has had us all amusing looking at tv: "big brother Africa". Anyway, even if we have not maintained any interesting conversation with Xaveria, before leaving I have asked her for an interview and she has accepted. --- Xaveria thought that the main problem of the world is Aids because it’s uncontrollable. The people should act with less risk to stop the illness. The main problem of Tanzania is the laziness that they maintain without improving the country. Xaveria considers herself happy because she looks at the positive side of things. Bagamoyo (see on map) 07/11/2007:
On Monday in the morning we left towards Bagamoyo, a town in the north of Dar Es Salaam that I also had visited 4 years ago and where i had spent about 3 or 4 wonderful days. Anyway, at present I did not have the intention to stay so many days, I had already visited the people and Alex is still disappointed with Africa in general. While looking for a place where to park, we have crossed a street of former colonial houses half in ruin, until we arrived to the last hotel of the town, where we have asked the manager to park for the afternoon in exchange of taking some cool drinks. But afterwards I have returned to the manager and showing him some photos i have suggested to take some more photos of the hotel in exchange for being able to remain one or two nights camped there, and surprisingly he has accepted very thankful. We have spent the afternoon walking through the beach in front of the hotel where mangrove swamps grew and relaxing in the pool where Alexandra has done new breakthroughs of swimming. At night after looking a film in the computer I started to exclaim: - Alex, you should not worry. Please, do not worry. - What is happening? - she asked me. But I kept repeating the same words while i noticed in my interior how it grew a bad belly pain and general uneasiness. In the end I explained to her that i did not find myself well and I lay down in bed. I felt like vomiting and I deduced that the fruits and the milk that i had eaten before had provoked a cut of digestion for me, although Alex opined that the evil of belly was owed to the meat that i had eaten at noon, which she thought was not in very good state. In any case, the uneasiness kept being unbearable and in the end I decided to provoke myself the vomit to finish with the suffering. It has been so long since i did not vomit and i did not remember how to do it, but i kept trying, with pain, until in the end I managed to empty my stomach. Later it seemed that with every vomit the uneasiness decreased, but after the uneasiness increased, and I even had fever and tremors. I passed the night being delirious, imagining doors that were not closed and I was having discordant thoughts that did not let me sleep were (also Alexandra couldn’t slepp cause she was taking care of me). But finally, and maybe unfortunately, the dream overcame the frenzies. And I write unfortunately, because in the morning I realised that I had pooped on the bed - yes shit, and even if i repeat it, it does not mean that I am not ashamed. It had such liquid diarrhoea that if i was not awake it slipped out to the minimum distension. Alex woke up much loathed. But there was no other solution but to clean. In any case, i did not have pain of belly nor general uneasiness, but in order to not repeat the unpleasant anecdote we have directed ourselves to the town to buy an anti-diarrheic. But luckily there were no pharmacies in the town that sold medicines and they have advised us to go to a clinic where they sold medicines. There, we have paid a fee of 0,35 € for a consultation and the doctor has started to listen to my symptoms (I have not described the shit of the bed). I thought that he would prescribe me directly an antidiarrheic, but has recommended me to do some blood tests and of excrement and like this we did. After an hour, the doctor has called us again and communicated the result of the analysis to us: In only one drop of blood they had extracted from my finger they had counted up to twelve parasites of Malaria! For a part I have cheered up cause the name of the illness was terrifying enough as to justify my shit, but on the other hand I have thought that I did not find it bad enough to have such an illness, although it is also true that I was only one of the 400 million people that catch paludism every year and of which alone die 1 million, mainly children smaller than 5 years. On the way to the hotel of the previous night, I have taken the prescribed medication and have spent all the afternoon resting, assuring my sphincter with two doses of anti-diarrheic. Meanwhile, Alexandra has kept taking care of me and practiced in the pool. Afterwards I have woken up, have done some more photos through the hotel and have continued to sleep until today in the morning, when i already found myself quite well. We have decided to leave the hotel and to visit Bagamoyo a little, before continuing the journey towards the north. We have parked under a big tree near the old colonial germanic constructions and gone out to walk. Bagamoyo had been the port of "dhows" (small vessels ) one of the most important on the African east coast and was not up to ends of the 19th century that the Germans started to promote the use of the small port of Dar Es Salaam as better alternative for the big boats that arrived to the African east coast. Of all this glorious past some colonial constructions still resist (I suppose that the Africans prefer to build new homes than maintain an architecture that they do not know) and a few more Arab ruins in the south that we did not visit (i had visited them 4 years ago and they only had archaeological interest). Between the colonial buildings and the new African houses there were many shops of Tanzanian artists (many of them Rasta) with very interesting sculptures, distancing themselves from the typical and copied sculptures observed up to the moment. On the beach there were many small boats anchored in the sand (the tide was low) and among these there were different groups of people fixing the small boats, selling fish, and more in to the background boys that were putting algae together, as for eating them. Next to the beach there were some shacks of straw that generated a big place for frying small fish, probably to sell towards the interior of the country after some days. After the visit of Bagamoyo and recording a telephone conversation for Catalunya Radio we have taken a path of sand to save us 150 kilometres and to pass through Dar Es Salaam again. After about 2 hours and a half we have arrived to the asphalt, but Alexandra had started to have a strong headache and commented that she felt like vomiting. We have followed the road wondering whether Alex had also contracted malaria. When we have stopped to rest mid-afternoon, Alexandra has complained about the headache as being more intense. I have suggested to her to do a test of malaria (in Congo we had bought one) but she did not want for fear of the puncture in the finger, although finally she has accepted. We have been almost half an hour deciding whether she or I should make the puncture, and in the end I have done it , after that she cursed me for another half an hour with the finger pouring blood. Anyway, I have been able to collect some drops of her blood and have introduced them in the small Chinese laboratory of 3€ and after 20 minutes the test has indicated a negative result. Alexandra did not have malaria. And like this it had to be, because she has calmed down and the headache disappeared. Maybe Alexandra is a little hypochondriac, but the headache is also normal from the tension that has suffered because of my malaria and my shit. Tanga (see on map) 08/11/2007:
Alexandra woke up without headache and pleased, so, without too many delays we have followed the journey towards Tanga, but after few minutes of conduction Alex has started to scream as a hysterical and to cry as a small girl, while she verbalised something about an insect or bee. I thought that she had seen (or even touched) some horrible insect, but as she did not stop crying I have stopped the car and then she has been able to explain me among weeps that a bee (or some type of wasp) had entered for the sleeve of the shirt and had bitten her two or three times in the shoulder. And indeed, the insect was moribund on the window. I have put a little anti-allergic gel on the shoulder and once she has calmed down we have followed the stretch up to Tanga. Tanga is the third biggest city of Tanzania, but in spite of this ranking, Tanga is a quite calm city of colonial atmosphere. And walking through this city, one can imagine that Tanzania is one of the countries less urbanised of Africa. Tanga possesses a park that borders the coast with a good sight on the sea, the port and a next island. About four years ago the surrealist image of almost ten boats oxidised and sunk next to the port had surprised me, but today it has surprised me not to see them. We have followed the avenue through the centre of the town, under the shifting boards of colonial buildings dated at the beginnings of XX century preserved but without too much interest. The avenue finished we have decided to arrive today to Kenya, although before we have used up the last shilings: we have eaten three big fruit salads (the three for 0,90 €), we have bought coca-cola for the road (the three for 0,70 €), some sandals of skin for Alexandra, and other small details. Next we have followed the road towards the north of the city that immediately has turned into a track of sand. It seems strange that Tanzania was linked with Kenya by a track with a speed limit of 30 km/hour. Mid-afternoon we have arrived to the border of Tanzania with Kenya, crossing it without too many problems. We already crossed since South Africa four countries and had not arrived yet to the half of the road to go out from the continent (in East africa, the equator passes near Nairobi). And in a certain way I already feel ready to go out of black Africa and to continue knowing new cultures. I have the sensation that I have gotten the chance to discover the different African cultures very superficially, but my journey does not stop being superficial and general, with the will of enriching myself only a little from each of the main cultures of the world. And Africa has already complied with its goal, and I yearn for new treasures. On the other hand, I have probably lost part of the illusion to enter in Tanzania and Kenya, countries that I had already visited four years ago and that do not surprise me any more as the previous countries. Perhaps it is that, black Africa stopped surprising me and for some weeks now I have the illusion focused on Ethiopia, Egypt and Middle East, regions that I entrust will surprise me again and enrich my knowledge. Kenya Mombasa (see on map) 09/11/2007:
We have reached mid-morning Diani Beach, a touristic beach in the South of Mombasa with banks (where we have been able to take out money), trades (where we have bought groceries, despite being quite expensive) and many luxury hotels occupying all the length of the coast. Diani Beach is a preferred destinacion for the European tour operators, but it has not been for us (and even less for Alexandra). In Diani Beach there was no bar or small hotel near the beach to relax. We have only found a small road between two hotels where we have been able to park, and while I was going to swim Alexandra has stayed in the car crying and screaming that she did not like the place and that she could not relax, not even to walk the beach, nor anything. In spite of the bad humour of Alexandra, I have been able to enjoy of my snorkeling observing some very interesting goldfish, although I have not been able to arrive to the corals, because the tide pushed me towards the coast and because in a given moment I have seen myself surrounded by small transparent jellyfishes that have frightened me, making me return to the beach. In the car, Alexandra followed with the bad humour and realising that we could hardly enjoy Diani beach we have decided to reach Mombasa. Mombasa is a city settled on an island, connected to earth by two bridges in the West and in the North and by ferry in the South, from where we came. When arriving to the ferry we have seen the listings of prices in a big mural and among them the price of "cars of up to 6 meters: 0,60€". When arriving to the ticket window I have delivered the marked quantity but the collector has told me that the price was the double. And here it has started a sour discussion, because the collector wanted to price us as lorry and I told him that the autocaravan was not a lorry. I did not want to lower of the donkey and "to be tricked" for being white ( even if it was for 0,60 €), but the ones responsible for the ferry neither were ready to give up, and meanwhile, the police has arrived because I was blocking the crossing of other vehicles. In the end, after half an hour of arguments and of shouts, a policeman has taken me separately and explained to me: "See, you do not understand Swahili, but the people here - we were surrounded by people - are talking very badly about you, say that you do not want to abide by our laws and that you behave like some new coloniser". Afterwards the same policeman has shown me as other vehicles smaller than mine (pick-ups, vans, 4x4...) they were also paying amounts similar to what they wanted to charge me. And with these two arguments I have convinced myself of making a mistake, that if in the wall it had the typification of autocaravan then i would pay the same as a lorry or more. So, still annoyed but abiding by the reason I have paid the claimed amount and have returned to the car where Alexandra kept insulting the blacks accusing them to be to the only ones responsible for their underdevelopment. The humour of Alexandra has changed radically when in Mombasa we have met Sebastian, a Polish boy who three months ago started to manage a company in Kenya and who has a pretty house with pool where we have been able to park the autocaravan. Alexandra was euphoric of refinding a bit of Europe or of development to be able to be relaxed. And making use of the joy and energy of Alexandra, we have gone out at night to take some beers to two sites of Mombasa with Sebastian, which has confirmed to us that in Kenya he flirts a lot, and if he wanted, every night could leave with a different black girl. I had already experienced the same four years ago, when in Mombasa I was with three different girls, without asking me for money in exchange, only asking me for the opportunity of stealing my heart from me to run away towards Europe. But that does not only happen with the white men, by the streets and sites, white women are also seen in excess of age or of kilos, accompanied by young kenyan boys. What I do not know, is why the girls of Kenya have this predisposition to the sex with whites (maybe more that in Zambia) and in other countries as Tanzania, the behaviour is radically different. After that an attractive black girl asked us to seat with the three of us (we have said her no) I have thought that if Alexandra were not with me, my behaviour in Kenya would be very different. Afterwards I have valued if our relation had future, especially thinking the problems that Alexandra has to adapt to the countries that we visit (or to adapt to my way of traveling), again. But finaly I have concluded again that, hardly i would find a girl with whom i would have less problems than with Alexandra (or which could adapt better to me); and that if we surpass this journey, very probably they will not exist again moments as critical as those that we have passed; and that deep down I love her and that it is not difficult to imagine a future with her. 14/11/2007:
Mombasa is a multicultural city, with influences of Arab, Swahili, Indian and European. This cultural diversity is noticed in the religious temples, schools (some of which, Koranic), in the different architectonic nuances of the buildings, in the trades, but especially in the way othe people dress, dominating the European style with Muslims completely covered with black chilabas or Indians covered with colourings veils. Also there were differences in the transport: matatus (small buses or vans) that repeated in all Africa or the tuc-tuc (motorised tricycles) that reminded me of India. Naturally, during these five days in Mombasa i have had the opportunity to know different members of the different cultures. One of the first men with whom I maintained a conversation, was a Somali who invited me to take a coffee when i was walking through the old town of Mombasa. The man, which was called Giovani, explained me that he was a Somali refugee ( the same as many others in Kenya). I showed interest in the situation of Somalia and he told me that it was still very bad, that after 18 years of war, many children have grown with a weapon in the hands, and some of them will never let go of being criminals. Then he explained me that in Somalia they are a single tribe, with a single religion and a single language, but even then there is war, because of the factions or clans and the men of the war that want to dominate the country and its riches (oil and fish). As i asked him about the future of Somalia he reminded me that at present there are Ethiopians inside the country maintaining the peace, but he was completely against, because according to him the Ethiopians were enemies in the house itself. Afterwards, while we were drinking a beer (even if he was a Muslim) he explained me something i thought was very funny. he was complaining that nowadays nothing is as before and to illustrate it he commented "before , when i was a child i remember that the chili was very strong, you ate a little and you immediately had to drink water, but nowadays its not like that, you can eat two or three without feeling at all". I assure you that in Kenya the chili still pricks, and a lot, but the poor Somali had gotten used to the hot one and ate up the chilis three by three, and he thought that they had lost the burning sensation. On the following day, the end of Indian year (2064), during which the Indian children threw fireworks and rockets, we met an Indian family that invited us ( the two of us and Sebastian) to visit two Hindu temples where there were some magnificent exhibitions of paintings on the ground made out with dust of colours, some of which were incredibly well made. It is a pity (or not) that on few days the works of art are swept, proving the fineness of the beauty and of life. The Indian family explained to us that they had never gone to India, although they kept preserving the traditions and habits of their ancestors who emigrated to Kenya at the end of the 19th century for the construction of the railway that links Nairobi with Mombasa. At all times, Alexandra appeared fascinated with the Hindu culture, making questions and showing interest on their culture, traditions, religion... I thought that maybe further on the character of Alexandra will change and she will love with the journey, the cultures, the countries, the inhabitants again... After all, it is also truth that she has always expressed (even before initiating second stage) that in general she dislikes Africa. Yesterday I met a boy of the tribe of luo (he dressed as any other black boy) that started to complain about the government explaining that the president was kikuyu and that all the important positions were occupied also by kikuyus, in a bar built with four woods and four irons. But the main problem was not this, but the corruption, the lack of work, the insecurity of the country, and the poverty ( 50% of the Kenyans live under the threshold of the poverty). Anyway, in few weeks there will be ellections in Kenya and he expects the candidate (of his tribe) to gain and to provide solutions to the problems of the country. On the other hand, when asking him about the tribes in Kenya he explained that there are 42, with quite a lot of cultural differences between them, but all friends. Finally we talked about health and Onyango explained me that in Kenya there is a lot of AIDS and that for example he knows more than 50 people that are bearers of HIV or have developed the illness. Yesterday we had decided that today mid-morning we would start to go towards Nairobi, but this morning, a man that lives in the same block of apartments as Sebastian, has presented as professor of journalism at university and has started to show interest in our journey. We have started to describe him our project, but he has interrupted us and he has told us that he would call two journalists so that they did an interview to us. While we waited for the journalists we have kept talking of our journey and afterwards on Kenya and Africa in general. Francis (like this was called) believed that the underdevelopment of Africa was caused by Europe, due to the tariffs or trade barriers. Anyway, he continued explaining that to avoid Europe, Africa is at present opening new markets among the same African countries and with Asia. Francis, also opined that the underdevelopment was bad due to the mistake of leadership and that in general the African rulers were mediocre leaders. But I have wondered whether the lack of leadership was really sufficient to maintain the countries channeled or also there was a problem of general mentality. In spite of everything, Francis was very optimistic with Africa, trusting that it was evolving in the good direction.later , while Francis explained that the Africans continue smiling in spite of the problems that confront, two photographers and two journalists from "Daily Nation" and "Standard " have arrived and they have been interviewing us a good while. Alexandra has been happy that we didot go towards Nairobi until morning, because she is very well in Mombasa and because tonight there was programmed "masais dances" in a bar where we used to go with Sebastian. On the other hand, Alexandra has also felt at ease with Sebastian. In fact, Alexandra has always usually become more friendly with the Europeans (and South African whites) that we have found through the road, however I rather gotten bored when they do not interest me in a cultural way. Alexandra has also felt very happy of having been able to work two days in the company of Sebastian classifying imported clothes, and taking as prize about fifteen products that she had classified separately. She has declared me that it would have pleased her to be working a month in the company to earn money, however I would not have waited. In spite of everything, I have also felt at ease with Sebastián, a boy of 24 years that he has kept opening throughout these days and he knew how us to explain very well that he is living thrilling moments. Few months ago Sebastian smoked frequently marihuana with his friends, without doing anything, but one day, exactly three months ago, a friend called and presented a Polish businessman that needed somebody that spoke English to direct a new company of import of clothes in Kenya, and now he was here, in a completely different country, trying to pull a company that does not deblock, and handling quantities of unimaginable money. Today at night we have gone to the bar where there were the masais dances, a site full of white tourists, of all ages, couples or singles (men as well as women); and many young and attractive girls expecting to hunt one of these men and some masais also snogging one of these women. On time indicated, all the masai have been grouped together in a corner of the site and rhythmic and hypnotic sounds have started while they initiated a joint dance of small jumps. Later, when the rithm has increased in intensity, the masais have started to jump with energy, raising two or three palms of the ground almost without folding the body, basically with the force of the ankles. Alexandra was captivated and has obliged me to making all the while photos, although the lights and the environment of the bar were not very favourable. Afterwards the masais have taken to dance some tourists, and among them Alexandra, which also has jumped happy among the adorned black bodies. We have returned to the car late, after conversing superficially with some masais and buying them some bracelets. During the turn we have been contrasting points of view, I giving an opinion that the masai dance in the bar had been a play, and that i would have preferred the dance in their natural environment; and Alexandra and Sebastian opining that it was positive that the masais came to the city because they could gain money. ---- In Mombasa I took the pulse to the world with Francis, the journalist professor. Francis opined that the main problem of the world is the meanness, the rich ones want more even if the poor ones suffer, provoking also corruption and other problems. The meanness can be eliminated doing a personal change and sensitising the population. The main problem of Kenya is the bad leadership, which keeps them underdeveloped. The expectation is put in the next ellections; the solution only depends on the country. Francis is happy because he has decided not to be annoyed. he would be happier if all the Kenyans had the covered basic needs. The secret of happiness depends on you, have to decide to be happy, to have the attitude. Nairobi (see on map) 15/11/2007:
Today on Thursday we have driven towards Nairobi, crossing the National Park of Tsavo where we have been able to observe from the road only a group of zebras. In theory we have also passed little more than 100 kilometres of the mount Kilimanjaro, but the day was blurry and have not seen it. If i had not see it 4 years ago, we would probably have arrived to Nairobi passing the lap of Kilimanjaro in Tanzania instead of Mombassa. But to see the Kilimanjaro is a milestone and once complied with it loses importance, and on the other hand, Alexandra is not interested in complying with these milestones. At dusk we have stopped in a church in construction to spend the night. A chaplain has approached me and explained that they were of the IAC (Inland African Church), a fraction of the Baptist church. I have commented that i was catholic and that my Romanian woman was protestant (I have made a mistake, in fact the Romanians are orthodox, but as Alexandra always protests sometimes i confuse:). I have had a catholic education, but in fact I do not believe in the church nor God (at least in the same way that the Christians do), but that can be mortally heretical for a Muslim or some Christians, that's why sometimes I say that I am catholic to facilitate the relations. Anyway, if I observe that my interlocutor is open to listen to my opinions, I then explain my convictions and assumptions. 18/11/2007:
On Friday at twelve in the midday Alexandra commented: "the entry in Nairobi is the worst of all the African cities, worse than Luanda". In four hours we had advanced 80 kilometres on a track of rocks and mud (yes, we were on the main road of Mombassa to Nairobi) and we were caught at the entry of the city in the middle of a terrible traffic. But we were late another hour and a half for the ethiopia embassy which was closed until Monday. We had two contacts in Nairobi that had offered a parking place for us, but both contacts lived to the outskirts of the city and due to the traffic we decided to park near the centre, in some hotel. After parking in the parking place of a luxurious hotel we go out to walk a little on the big avenues, with very green and neat parks, wastebaskets in every corner, through the centre of Nairobi, a modern city with big buildings, similar to Johanesburg - Alex commented-,... On the other hand, there were no children asking through the street and the safety seemed much better than four years ago, when the city had the name of Nairrobery (in English: Nairobi + theft). The day after Saturday in the morning returned to walk through the town centre and at noon we met the two contacts with whom we had not been able to meet on Friday. Ken was acrobat and Steve was Rasta and artist. Ken had just gatjered his group of acrobats because in the afternoon they had a performance in a snobbish location, where the entry was 3 euros. we took a Matatu (Alexandra was well scared with these small buses) and we payed our entry and that of Steve, who did not have money. While we waited for the performance of Ken and his group (it was very short but good) Steve convinced me of moving the autocaravan up to his neighbourhood to the outskirts of Nairobi, where the day after (today) we could visit the community and the projects that they developed. But Alexandra was not at all happy with the plan and her bad humour kept increasing as the afternoon passed. When we returned to the autocaravan with Steve, Alexandra already surpassed the limit of my patience, protesting in a bad way against moving the autocaravan in a suburb where for sure someone would attack us. So much she surpassed my limit that, when the three of us were already sitting in the autocaravan, I had to apologise to Steve saying: "I am sorry Steve, we will not go to your home, I prefer going to the airport to send Alexandra to Europe ". Then Alexandra seemed to calm down a bit and, after breathing deeply a few times, I revoked the decision and started to circulate towards Kayole, the neighbourhood of Steve. But the traffic of Nairobi was again bad and we were stuck two hours, holding the unpleasant comments of Alexandra that even directed them against Steve. One of the comments that Alexandra made was that I should sleep in the house of Steve, so, when parking in the parking place of the police of Kayole, we left Alexandra in the autocaravan and did not return until the following day. Steve lives with two other boys, Shakespear, a man that works on developing projects for the community, and Derik, an electrician that also helps Shakespear. Shakespear started to explain curiosities of the 43 tribes (Onyango de Mombassa had said that they were 42) that live in Kenya. For example, Shakespear is from the Luo tribe and explained that formerly, the boys that passed to the adult age had to pull out six teeth from the front (in other tribes the boys were circumcised or tatoos were done on the skin). he also explained that if a man Luo dies, the community chooses irrevocably somebody of the family of the man to marry the widow (even if this is very ugly). If the one that dies is the woman, the family of the woman has the responsibility of supplying the man with another woman (of the family). Steve, of the Kamba tribe, explained that there is a place in his village where there is no gravity, where the water falls up instead of down (it is probably a visual effect). he also explained that there is another place where there is a big stone that can only be surrounded for 7 days of walking, and when a man makes two complete turns he appears converted into a woman. The three hosts, commented me that due to the close ellections, the differences between the tribes are more evident, with the Kikuyo defending the current president of their tribe, and the rest of the tribes advocating in favour of change, supporting mostly the candidate of the tribe Luo. Today in the morning, after having been dancing most of the night in a discotheque of the neighbourhood with Steve, Shakespear and Derik and sleeping in their house, the boys have convinced to me to go to look for Alexandra to have breakfast together. Alexandra had not slept all night and was tired, but she regretted her performance. We have embraced each other and we have gone to the house of the boys to have breakfast, but Alexandra has returned afterwards to the car to rest while I did a hike through the neighbourhood with the boys. First we stopped in the office of the organisation Zindua (tfno. 0734610019 mail: zindua_afrika @ yahoo.com), for which they all work. There they all started to explain problems that affect the neighbourhood of Kayole and its 300.000 inhabitants, and the projects that they are developing or which they want to develop. It was evident that the organisation needed more funds and it was also evident that they trusted completely in my to obtain them. I could only assure them that about 5000 people would read my diary and that maybe one of them would get in touch to help them. The organisation Zindua offers information against the AIDS and distributes condoms, helped by the churches (except the Catholic, the only one that is against). They explained to me that the Kenyan government carries out free tests, the pregnant women are obliged to take tests not to pass the HIV to their children (using drugs) and supplies freely the affected ones with antiretrovirales. Zindua is pulling out another project that wants to promote the crop and consumption of the amaranth cereal, a cereal with many nutrients, that grows on 42 days and with little water but that is still not known by the population (also not known by me). Zindua is also the organisation that collects the rubbish of the neighbourhood ( with the help of the steet children to whom it pays some money) and pours them out of the town. They also talked to me about many other projects to develop the neighbourhood (sport equipment, education, tourism...) however, as I have written before, they had very few funds, though many energies. In the office of Zindua there was a Somali girl, who before leaving demythologised the war of Somalia explaining only that there is conflict in the capital Mogadisho and that in the rest of the country people live in peace (she even invited me to visit the country). From the office of Zindua we went towards the river, crossing the neighbourhood of humble and nice people and high houses with colorful balconies with many wet clothes. The boys explained me that the water only arrives to the neighbourhood on the weekend, moment in which they clean. As i arrived at the river, the soul fell at the feet. The organisation Zindua was collecting all the rubbish of the town and they were pouring them regardless in the river, on the waters that came out with a black colour. They were completely aware that that was not a good solution, but it would still be worse if there were not collection the rubbish and all the neighbourhood had to live on the waste, as it happens in some suburbs of huts. The solution would be to have a lorry to take the rubbish to the official waste grounds, some kilometres to the outskirts of the neighbourhood, but again: they did not have money and either the government or the ONGs (at the moment) did not supply them. Anyway, this was not a unique problem of the neighbourhood Kayole, only 25% of the waste in Kenya is poured controlledly, the rest is poured to the outskirts of the neighbourhoods or piles up in the corners of the houses. The families of Kayole pay half a euro each month for the collection of rubbish, money that is destined to pay the bags and to pay the children of the street who carry out the dirty work. We went to visit the place where some of these children live and the image was not too nice either. Under a hut built with woods and plastics, there were four stingy and rotten mattresses where slept up to 15 children. The hovel did not have potable water although with the money of the organisation, the children had an easier life, without being necessary to ask money or steal. In any case, the children of the street had the option of choosing a life much better, but they refused it because it took freedom away from them. Like this it was proved to me when i visited a governmental orphanage that was not at 100% of its capacity. Many of the children that are received are not really orphan, many of them simply have no home due to family violence. --- In the afternoon we visited the family of Steve and when returning to his home I interviewed the three boys. Derik opined that the main problem of the world is the instability that wars, hunger and poverty provoke,... Shakespear opined that the problem was the passive and pessimistic attitude of the people. The solution, according to Derik, is the understanding among the human beings independently of their culture. Shakespear advocated a change of attitude of the humanity in general. The main problem in Kenya is the administration and the local leaders who do not solve the cause and the roots of the problems. The solution would be to vote correctly in the next ellections; the people should express their needs and not wait for the decisions of the politicians; the leadership should come from the community. They both try to mobilise the community so that it acts to solve its problems. Derik was not happy because the changes for which he fights are not immediate. The situation of Kenya saddens Shakespear, but he is happy because he fights to change it. The secret of happiness according to Derik is to comply with the dreams, and for Shakespear is to work for the community. Moyale (see on map) 22/11/2007:
We lost half of the day to obtain the visa of Etiopia, to go to the embassy of Spain so that they informed me about the possibility of renewing the passport and one hour connecting to Internet, so in the afternoon we started to drive towards the north, towards Ethiopia. Anyway, we were late retained in the traffic of Nairobi and we had to sleep out of the road not at many kilometres from the capital. The day after we followed the route through a good road up to Nyeri, some town where Baden Powel spent his last three years of life. In Nyeri there is a small museum dedicated to the scouts (boys and girls scouts), world movement founded by Baden Powel. I had been part of an association of scouts in my town and it was funny for me to visit the museum, which in a small room illustrated the world of the scouts, present on all the continents. Observing the photographs of the museum I recognised the importance of the movement for the growth and young development, even if in its times I did not like some of its dogmas, as the obedience or the faith, too much. More in the north we stopped in the town of Nanyuki, where the equator passes. On the contrary to the crossing of the equator in Gabon, here there was a big place, with many shops of craftsmanship in front of the lap of mount Kenya (the peak was covered up by clouds) and we also enjoyed demonstrations of the power of Corioli. A man with a bucket with water and a wash basin with a small hole, showed that at 20 meters in the north of the equator the water came out clockwise through the hole and in the south in oposite direction. While the man showed the circular movement of the water in the south of the equator, I approached and with the finger I made the other direction and this made the water change the direction. I thought that to the equator the forces of Corioli had to be very weak and that the circular movement of the water depended basically on its initial movement (caused deliberately by the man), but when the man showed that in the equator the water was falling without circular movement, I thought perhaps that i had made a mistake. In the afternoon of the same day we reached Isiolo, the last town on the tar road, little more than 500 kilometres away from the border. We sleept in a police station after having recurred about 30 kilometres in an hour and a half on the bad road. On the following day in the morning (yesterday), we continue driving on the terrible track with the same average of 20 km/hr. If before reaching Isiolo we had found a landscape with great cultivated extensions, after Isiolo the landscape turned arid and stony, with few villages houses made of straw or of iron and the inhabitants (many of them masais with coloured ornaments and clothes) guarding flocks of goats, cows or camels and the children asking us for charity quite aggressively. Anyway, as the track improved, we entered a volcanic region of reddish earth and green vegetation arround mid-afternoon. In any case, the masais inhabitants continued with their farming habits and there was little cultivated land. Yesterday we have covered 240 kilometres in 9 hours of driving; and today, with the idea of covering the remaining 250 kilometres up to the border, we have woken up very early. Soon, the humid and volcanic landscape has disappeared again and we have been in a landscape still more arid and desértic than on the previous day, without vegetation or trees up to the horizon only perforated volcanic rocks. The track also passed through the middle of the rocks, therefore the driving was really complicated, with the car swaying among the stones. On one of the multiple occasions that the autocaravan touched the ground, Alexandra asked me: - It does not break up you the heart to feel the car as it suffers? - No, because to be in this road is part of the journey - I answered without thinking. - But would you not prefer that the road was asphalted? - Maybe yes. But then we would have little adventure, the journey would be too straight. Anyway, the road did not improve and in another conversation we qualified it the third most complicated track of Africa, after that of Congo and Angola, not only for the difficulty but also for the extension. Later we had a wheel bursting out (literally). But these were not the only damages, the fridge was broken again by the vibrations and the iron of the engine was crushed against it making all the vehicle vibrate. Alexandra was not only worried by the state of the road, we had read that the isolated and solitary road was frequented by bandits of Sudan, Somalia and also Ethiopia. At about 120 kilometres of the border we have found a military control where they have recommended us (or required) to be escorted by two armed soldiers to the border. That, instead of calming down Alexandra has still alarmed her more, because she thought that not only the bandits could steal us, but also the soldiers. Anyway I have convinced Alex that the soldiers cannot atack us and they are protecting us, and after negotiating the price of the bodyguards (10 $ for head) we have continued the track that miraculously has kept improving up to the border, where we have arrived at sunset. ‹ Previous (23/09/2007) LUNA Next (2007-11-22)› ‹ Previous (2007-10-01 - Zambia) TARA Next (2007-10-29 - Tanzania)› |
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