The next day was dedicated to Pfunda tea company. We were supposed to have gone there after the coffee farm the day before but considering how much time had passed with transport to the coffee farm, we had postponed it.
Again, my friend didn’t join, although this time because he had already been there and had promised to help his mum with something. He still helped us at the bus station and told the driver to tell us when we’d arrive at the tea company.
We passed by a sign that said Pfunda tea company, and some people got off there. Yet when we asked if it was there, the driver said it wasn’t. So we waited – although I was sure it was.
They said it was the next stop, so there we got off. There was a gate to go to a cluster of houses, and that was the only thing that could come close to looking like a ‘farm’ of any kind, so we went there. Only thing there though was a very old woman who was very happy to speak French to me and told me the tea company was up the road (so it had been where the sign had been…damn bus drivers?) and a man who was right there would walk us there.
It was only like a 2-minute walk until we got to the sign, then he pointed at it and waved goodbye. He had obviously not spoken French.
We looked at the huge gates at the farm and the security ladies behind them. I suggested we go there but the ladies just waved that it was the gate just behind us. It looked weird and suspicious, just like any resident gate but we still knocked after having discussed a bit. When no one came to open after three knocks, we tried the door, and it was open. We waited a few seconds to check if we should go straight ahead or to the left, when a white person came out from the house and I waved to my Swedish friend this had to be correct. We asked him a bit and he said this was just some kind of store where local orphans made things you cold buy to support them, ‘or something like that. If you want to know the story you can ask that man over there’.
That didn’t help, but we thought nevertheless he could answer some questions about the tea plantation/farm, so we went to talk to him. He wasn’t related to the farm at all but had the number and knew the guy who did. Again, I had to call from my phone.
The guy, in English, said that they hadn’t done tours around the tea factory in two years – factory policy. There were no tours for the tea plantation either, but we could walk ourselves if we wanted to see it, only 5 minutes down the ‘mud road’. So of course we started walking.
It was, like so many other African times, a bit more than five minutes. We saw the tea after perhaps 20 minutes of walking, but walked for another 50 minutes at least just to see the workers (who were only on the tea fields the furthest away) and in the hope of seeing hilly tea plantations – which we didn’t. Many other things about the scenery were amazing though.
Perhaps about half ways on our way back to town, the tea truck came from behind us that was driving to the tea factory. I had said as a joke that perhaps we could hitch a ride back with them to the factory, to where the bus stopped, but it had just been a joke. However, without even having waved the driver to stop, he stopped a few meters a head of us and someone managed to ask in whatever (non-)language that we could join him. There were three seats, at the front so we could all sit there.
We crossed a bridge that says it can take 6 tons, but…it really didn’t look like it. It was just a couple of wooden planks put together perpendicularly on each other…over a really disgustingly brown shallow but fast stream. We survived it though and got out just at the factory gates, me saying thank you in Kinyarwandan. Then we waited for the bus that took us back to Gisenyi. We had lunch at the Swede’s hotel, my friend having picked us up at the bus station but he said he had already eaten.
After the “dinner”, my friend and I had to hurry home to pick up our things if we were to catch the last bus at 6 back to Kigali. Back home I gave the family some Icelandic seaweed (for the sake of being Icelandic, not that they will necessarily like it at all) and, perhaps a bit boringly, some African art stuff I had bought at Mengo Palace in Kampala. Then they wanted to take photos of us and went to get their ‘camera’, a phone…by the time which I had picked up my camera and we decided that I should rather take the photos and just send them to my friend.
We took pictures outside the house, first I took of the family (except one of the brothers and the father obviously, who works in a different region), then of my with the family, then just me and my friend. Some really funny photos. After that, we apparently had to hurry more. We got to the station half an hour early though, and we hadn’t even decided on a time with the Swede – even though he was already there.
The trip back to Kigali was long, perhaps due to the dark that hit quite early on, yet not long enough, at least in the sense that my friend and I were starting to count down the few hours we had together and wished we could have had more. Mostly I tried to sleep but after my friend told me he couldn’t stop thinking about that I was leaving, it was also hard to think of anything else.
When we finally got to Kigali though, it was my Swedish friend who woke me up by poking my shoulder and whispering we had arrived. It seemed even my friend had managed to sleep a bit because he hadn’t noticed either. I said a final good bye to my Swedish friend before taking the bus back to our waterless house on Masoro hill with my friend.
I had had an apple and half a bread with me on the trip that I needed to eat when I got back, so that I wouldn’t get sick of the malaria pill which I still hadn’t taken. Meanwhile I played some music and we talked – or just sat and listened to the music. Then I had to repack everything because my suitcase was a mess. The mosquito net had to wait until the morning obviously.
When I was done, we ended up on a serious talk about how great this week had been and how much it had meant to us and things like that. He also gave me a souvenir, a big…decoration basket with women on it dancing the national dance I had learnt with the group.
I don’t know when I went to sleep, around 4 maybe – although I know he didn’t fall asleep at all, and he had told me that he wouldn’t be able to sleep.
Day 31 – winter in Nairobi
I had set my alarm to 6 o’clock so I obviously hadn’t slept a lot. I had woken up, or was still awake, when my friend had got up at 4.45. Apparently that’s his normal time for getting up, and apparently also regardless of when he goes to sleep. He helped me fold the mosquito net and I finished packing and then we left. We walked down the gravel road (he of course carrying my suitcase) and then we found two motos who took us the short distance to the airport. There, he told me a lot of things had changed since he had gone to Paris, so he had to ask where to go for the check-in. At the entrance there was a security check (yes, before check-in) to check both carry on and luggage. He wasn’t allowed beyond that point, so since there were still almost two hours until departure, and I figured there wouldn’t be much to do inside, we waited outside on a bench so that we could spend a few more minutes together. We took some more photos together, then we checked facebook, because they had free wifi, I sent the pictures I had taken on my phone via whatsapp, and I gave him the bracelets I had bargained down in Uganda and worn every night and day since I had arrived back in Rwanda.
Despite the extremely short flight, I managed to watch about half of Grand Budapest Hotel, and they even served a full meal. I also needed to fill in a form to enter Kenya, but when I landed I got another form to fill in. When I had looked at it, it said something about “Ebola, for those coming from Sierra Leone, Liberia and Guinea”. The form asked where you would be staying, where you had been and if you had felt any symptoms [long list]. So considering I had not been in any of those countries, nor met any people from those countries, I asked the lady if I really had to fill it in – I did… At least when I was done, she only skimmed the continuous “no” ticks and let me through very quickly. Even the passport check was very quick, although you did have to get a photo taken and scan all of your fingerprints. After that I was through.
Somewhat due to my own fault (but also the customer service and slightly the driver as well), I ended up waiting at the airport, even though the driver was there. When I finally found him though it was a really nice white jeep that would be the transport to town.
The driver was extremely friendly and we ended up talking about all kinds of things. I apparently took him by a big surprise by knowing what ‘matatu’ was, and boda boda (although if I remember correctly, they don’t actually call it that here…) and said within a very short time that I fit well into Kenya and should move here.
It was only 10km into town from the airport – yet the traffic jams caused us to not be at the Junction Mall until approximately an hour later, where I would meet the Icelandic woman I’m staying with. She was having lunch with a friend, who turned out to be Swedish. While they got some coffee I got some amazing passion fruit juice. Then we headed ‘home’.
Needless to say it was the best place I had stayed on the whole trip. Big bed, big windows, own bathroom and shower that was super clean. Fridge that I could just take something from, drinking water thing, balcony, perhaps the happiest to see a washing machine! Only thing was that it was quite cold, especially the floors. What made it ‘hard’ was that it wasn’t warmer outside at all. It was cloudy – and cold, just like it had been in Kigali in the morning. I’ve now been told it’s ‘winter’ in Nairobi, and their coldest time of the year…
The Icelandic was heading back to work and left me to settle in. Settle indeed; shower!! Unpack some of my clothes into the closet. I actually just relaxed a bit after my two hours of sleep by blogging, eating a bit…and then very quickly the Icelandic was back from work. This time she drove the car, to a Nakumatt nearby to buy a few things for dinner. Obviously both the car got checked (backseat and boot) and then another check at the store entrance of our bags. Nothing eventful happened in the evening.
Day 32 – market and Nairobi city center
I had gone to sleep relatively early, so was also ready to go out at 9.30 (early for me!). The Icelandic had showed me on google maps where there were some interesting places to see or go. I would be ‘free’ until lunch at which time she had offered that I could go with a girl from the office downtown with the driver. So when I had had breakfast I headed out, towards the city center. I didn’t take my phone up at any point to look where I was or how close I had got to the city center. Like normally on my own, I just walked where my feet took me, this time (eventually) to a craft market where the people were so nice it was impossible to resist. My problem, or rather theirs, was that I didn’t have any money, I only had Rwandan and Tanzanian money (I had been lucky to exchange all my Burundian money for Rwandan money with him, since he was going there). I saw some people who were painting and sandpapering coasters, and I got to take photos of them doing that, and ask a bit about the process.
After that, I ended up buying some things by going to the ATM (damn twice!) because everyone was ‘complaining’. Nice things though, but as expected, a lot more expensive than both Rwanda and Uganda. However, they had things I hadn’t seen anywhere else so those were the kinds of things I got. When I was done, despite wanting to look at the rest of the market, and how big it was, I didn’t have time – and honestly didn’t dare to go further in case they’d money laundry me more, so I walked back. I had though of taking a boda boda, or whatever their names, back, but realized I had absolutely no clue about what the street was called or the house, so I wouldn’t be able to pre-discuss a price. I just remembered the way I had walked and walked back the same way.
When I got back, I ended up talking for a short while to the gate security guard who had first said ‘you’re back!’ Then he asked how long I had been in Nairobi, and I obviously just said ‘since yesterday’. Goodness knows why, but he got very surprised, and thought I had been in Nairobi for months! So it seems the driver is not the only one thinking I’m a “true” Nairobian.
I had lunch at the house, and then went down the road to their office where I’d meet the girl who would show me around town for a bit. It was a complicated process. Firstly, it was only cars that were driving into the area. I managed to ask and get directions to walk straight ahead though, then to the left in the reception. “To the left in the reception”, they told me it wasn’t this reception for the office I was going to, but the next reception, just to the left of them. So I went there and they had to check ID and then pointed me to the gates where people would open for me, because I didn’t have any card to get through the card-reader. Upstairs I had to knock on a glass door where another woman opened the door and asked where I was going. And very finally, I found it! After being introduced to the staff, and to the Icelandic man with whom I was staying, who had been in Turkana, who is the actual father of the girl I know from back home, I went with the driver and one of the local girls downtown. She first had to deliver an envelope but then they could take me anywhere. We first went to a safari company office that I had looked at a lot online. They got me some useful new information and prices.
Then we went to ‘Nairobi textiles’. A whole house filled only with fabrics. African patterns, what they call ‘tribe’ patterns, one coloured, just anything. After much search, I finally found something decent. I guess I slightly regret not having bought a blue/red one I saw in…Tanzania(?) though. That was the only place I saw it, while many other patterns and colours I have seen loads of.
Finally she took me to some extremely cheap African stores, right under the ugly rock built Hilton Hotel. The things there were much cheaper than at the market but thankfully didn’t have a single thing of the things I had already bought. I bought some necklaces just because there were 4 for 180 KSh, which is nothing!! Then I can just give them away.
There was a necklace I really liked, but I thought I already have two, and it was quite similar to one of them, or like a blend of the two I have, so I didn’t buy it. The woman from the office bought another bracelet of pearls with the Kenyan flag on. She said she used to have one but then she had lost it, so she needed another one. It’s funny how you expect only tourists would buy something like that, but in fact I’ve seen a couple of locals wearing those Kenyan flag bracelets.
When we were done, the woman was going home, so we left her in town while the driver and I went back to the office to pick up the Icelandics. First we got something hot to drink (although I didn’t manage to finish it, but yum with proper hot chocolate! It had been another very cloudy and quite cold day). Then as we were going out, some Asian guy from the office next door started talking to the Icelandic, although they obviously knew each other from earlier. He was extremely enthusiastic and outgoing and said he was going out with a friend and asked if they were going out too. Then he said if I wanted to see Nairobi by night, I was free to call him and I could go with him. So I took his card and then we left, driving off to Nakumatt again and getting dinner, after which I got an airtel Kenyan number to easier call my friend and the Icelandics, and perhaps the driver or whoever I would need to call.
I spent the evening on writing postcards and suddenly the time was 11.30pm so I wasn’t exactly in the mood for going out.