To the Rift Valley, and beyond...

This past weekend, we took our first road trip in Kenya. It was part business, part pleasure (ok, all pleasure for S. and myself). Anno had to be in a town called Nakuru (about 2 and a half hours drive north of Nairobi, the 3rd largest city in Kenya, population 300k - just to give you a sense of how low the population density is here), on Friday and Saturday for the regional celebration of Global Hand-washing Day.

I. Business - Global Hand-washing Day

The goal of the global hand-washing movement is to (i) spread the message that timely washing of hands is a simple and cost-effective way of preventing death and disease, particularly among children, and (ii) to engage local-level lawmakers, school children (who are more susceptible than adults to changing their hygiene habits), and the private sector in committing time and resources to this goal. In terms of development/medical initiatives in developing countries, hand washing is on one end of the interventionist spectrum, in that it is relatively cheap, non-invasive, and makes for a message easy for disparate parties to rally around (and/or co-opt). At the other end of the spectrum lie mandatory vaccinations, imported toilets etc. These remain fashionable because they generate good-looking statistics - x million children vaccinated, y million toilets installed etc. In a way, hand washing is like the special forces of public health, because we may never really know what calamity was definitively averted because they were deployed (and I'm not just plugging for Anno here).

Which is why the very public festival which was Nakuru's Handwashing Day was so impressive - it was a public yet coherent attempt to connect the dots between a pedestrian and yet somewhat taboo-to-discuss act (rubbing hands with soapy water) and a rather abstract but ultimately laudable end-goal (making sure children don't die needlessly). About 5000 school-uniformed children were in attendance (seated on the grassy floor of the city stadium), as were the to-be-expected gaggle of political, UN and corporate hot-shots (seated in the VIP section - shaded bleachers overlooking said children).

Caption: View from VIP-land.

When we arrived, we were ushered into the VIP section, which felt (to me anyway) a little undeserved. Official confirmation of our status took the form of a luke-warm bottle of Fanta, presented to us by a Kenyan boy scout. I accepted greedily, and the mixture of our somewhat subprime seating (well back from the politicos) and the giddyingly sweet drink (so evocative of my childhood) dispelled any guilt I felt about my spot in the shade. I settled in (S. asleep in my arms) to watch the spectacle. First came the corporate guys, waddling mincingly in starched collars, speaking at the kids with all the grace of a securities filing committed to memory. As if to complete the caricature, one actually asked his assistant to bring up a daytime-TV-show sized cheque evidencing his company's donation to the Ministry of Sanitation. The children applauded the way one does after a wonderful magic trick, so I did too.

Those of you who know me know just how dim my view of politicians is (yes, this includes Obama - new campaign slogan suggestion 'Perhaps We Should', third book title suggestion 'The Audacity of my Father'). I am pleased to report that this position was entirely vindicated. One by one they sidled up to the mic, as the children squirmed politely in the sun. One by one they stunned us with platitudes relating only tangentially to the proceedings. One, the guest of honour, actually asked the children to please be quiet while she spoke. Ah well, I thought, as I got up to use the washroom...

I was a little groggy from the speech-making as I shouldered my way into the washroom, with S. holding on to my hand. She literally gagged at the smell (although she does have a very enthusiastic gag reflex), so I asked her to wait outside. I had only to pee so in the spirit of 'how bad can this be' I pushed on deeper into the semi-darkness. Gentle reader, let me spare you the depravity of the scene which now came before me. Suffice it to say, from a thematically relevant standpoint, that the issue of the lack of handwashing facilities was so trivial as to be laughable - slipping and sliding as I was on the film of human waste which was the floor. I sashayed back towards the daylight coming through at the exit, unequal to the task of urination. Expecting to see S. waiting for me, I was greeted instead by a man with numerous weeping sores on his face (not a Kenyan boy scout it seemed), asking me with some vigour to inspect the contents of a plastic bag which he was holding out to me. I could see it was organic matter, so I muttered my excuses and rejoined my child.

Holding hands (such as they were), we made our unsteady way back to the speeches, where the glories of hand washing were being extolled in Soviet fashion in front of a sea of absurdly well behaved school children. Some of the children performed songs and poems, which were definitely the highlight of the event. One girl had composed and declaimed a poem entitled (I'm reasonably certain) 'O Diarrhea.' It was funny but also poignant because she was so talented and earnest. I felt a stab of murderous rage at her 'leaders' seated in front of me, once this performance concluded.

Soon after, we left, for the pleasure part of our trip.

II. Pleasure - Nakuru National Park

Nakuru is situated minutes from a national park which lies around Lake Nakuru (freshwater but, due to geothermal eccentricities, with salt accumulations on its banks). The salty banks attract hordes of lesser flamingoes and pelicans. On my first safari, I was eager to see something other than a bird or a herbivore (I understand how illiterate this makes me sound). I think Anno and the driver were getting a little sick of this refrain when we came across 2 male lions and a lioness sauntering across the path. This shut me up, for a while.
Final tally: 3 lions, zebra, black and white rhino, impala, all manner of birds (sorry I'm so uninformed), buffalo.

We even spent the night in the park at a Wildlife Society of Kenya lodge, which had a rustic charm (think, boarding school), and a backyard with a black rhino in it (seriously!). I felt very grown-up, surrounded as we were at night by Scandinavian backpackers saying 'dude' a lot. I want to be careful not to be unduly negative here, but the &***ing chef produced one meal after another which had me wanting to hurl the plate at the wall (doubly irritating because he would lull you into a sense of security by carefully consulting prior the meal re: the menu, your dietary goals etc., and also because Anno is always so zen about things like this). On balance, a fine place to crash for a night or two, but please make other food arrangements.

Caption:
This is explicitly not what we discussed re: breakfast brah!

More photos below:





Caption: Climbing Menegai Crater (baby bump barely visible under parka).



Caption: Pretty impressed with those white rhino!