Kampala

Just getting settled in at the Hotel Africana in Kampala, Uganda. We were delayed for an hour out of Nairobi, but for the first time in a while I didn't seem to mind. The drive from Entebbe to Kampala was beautiful... the scenery was lush and vibrant with deep green rolling hills and tons of color everywhere, especially as we got closer to the city. Motorcycles dominate the roads. Large storks with 4-5 foot wing spans soar in the sky above looking for food on the ground below. I was most impressed by the wind-powered street lights in the area around the Hotel Africana.

Salmonella water…it's delicious.

Photos on my flickr page

We spent last weekend at a place on the coast called the Voyager Beach Resort, roughly 7km north of Mombasa, Kenya's second largest city.

The Voyager employs a nautical theme. Each day, you, the passenger, travel to various worldly destinations like Hong Kong, Mumbai, Sydney, and even Kenya. Each day the hotel's staff must dress in accordance with the theme of each destination. Our first stop upon arrival at this terrestrial voyage was Mumbai, so the staff wore saris and we had chapati with our pasta bar and strawberry mouse. Go figure.

We were greeted at the check-in by several staff—the women were wearing saris, all except the young women checking us in. She informed us that she wasn't wearing a sari that day because "her boss" was not working and she just didn't feel like it. A true rebel. I support that. The men wore sailor suits, complete with the shirts with flaps that run across the shoulders to the back and little hats with tassels. Kenyan's in saris, add some chapatis and dal and what do you have? India!

Upon entering the hotel, one man graciously offered us a glass of cold fresh passion fruit juice, while another offered us a cool towel to wipe off the sweat. It was sweltering. From the lobby, we could see the sandy beach was few feet away and beyond that the vivid azure of the Indian Ocean. It was nearing high tide.

The heat was thick. We were surrounded by it as we stepped out from the plane and onto the tarmac. Nairobi is much more temperate—mostly warm, 70-80 degree days, followed by cool nights in the low 60s.

Coastal life is different. "Beachtowns" all over the world—from Ocean City, MD to Nyali Beach, Kenya—tend to market themselves as a place to come for rest and relaxation. "Fun in the Sun"..."Forget your troubles at our seaside escape." Mombasa's marketing is no different. The motto is "Hakuna Matata," which means "No worries" in Kiswahili. Despite what they tell the tourists, it's pretty clear just by walking around that "life ain't no crystal stair" for the folks around town.

People on the coast are constantly on the grind. Statistics show that unemployment is high across Kenya but those numbers don't necessarily reflect how much people out here are really working to make ends meet. Here's just one example. Many young men have taken to what some call the "beach boy" life; spending much of their time on the beach, peddling small trinkets and carvings, or making some money selling pot and other drugs to the mostly European tourist crowd. "Beach boys" spend most of their day hounding oblivious, overly-tanned tourists, asking them to come the kiosks to check out the goods. Kiosk owners pay beach boys a percentage of the profit generated from each sale. Most of the guys wait for tourists on the "public sections" of the beach--the small area that lies between the end of one hotel 's quasi-private beach and the start of another.

Things may move a little bit slower on Kenya's coast but not when it comes to politics. The people on the coast are strong supporters of Kenya's ODM party and their former presidential candidate/ current Prime Minister Designate, Raila Odinga. Buildings and shops through out various sections of town are adorned with graffiti bearing the Orange Democratic Movement's initials—ODM. One has to wonder if these shop owners were just trying to protect their property or do they actually support ODM? As the violence escalated in January 2007, surely everything becomes more about survival regardless of one's political sympathies. Would it be any different than non-black storeowners painting "black-owned" on their businesses during the LA riots in 1992?