Expat Lifestyle Might Don’t Make It…

During the last few days in Nairobi it has become painfully clear to me that if I decide to live in any city for an extended period of time, I absolutely can not live the “expatriate lifestyle”. Almost every part of every day has felt manufactured and surreal. Hamburgers, hummus and pita bread, cinnamon rolls, and a whole bunch of other crap that was obviously imported and that I would almost never touch at home. So why am I eating it here?!?!? Why is it “so difficult” to find a restaurant that prepares Kenyan food??? Though I will admit that during Havanna night, I thoroughly enjoyed the prawns and tostones! =)

But it is extremely frustrating when the wait staff is a caught off guard when I request Kenya tea or coffee and insist that I do not want Lipton, Tetley, or an Americano. I pay $2 every morning for Mayorga coffee, which is in my opinion the absolute best Kenyan coffee in DC and it doesn’t hurt that their “African” blend is a mixture of beans from Kenya, Ethiopia, Cameroon, and Uganda. But since I’ve been in Kenya, it’s been almost impossible to get “local” coffee! This doesn’t make sense…

Oh, but it does. While on my way to Java House, a popular spot in expat central, I asked my driver to recommend a good Kenyan restaurant for my last night in town. He immediately told me that I wouldn’t like Kenyan food, if I didn’t like meat. Who told him that I didn’t like meat?!?!? In his defense, this is what he assumed. I’m sure he’s come across quite a few vegetarians from abroad.

I hope that I’ll get the chance to visit again soon because don’t feel like I’ve experienced Kenya at all. I haven’t seen anything that distinguishes it from any other city in the world. But then again, I am off to Juba shortly, so I may be in store for quite a treat... be it good or bad...

Majority/Minority… Huh?

I’m still a bit confused… Why do I, a black girl, feel like a minority in East Africa??? But on the other hand, I’ve been around so many Americans, that I kind of feel like Im in the majority, and haven’t even left DC.

The night at Havanna was fun, but as I said, made me feel like I never left home in so many ways. Oddly enough, the bathroom was one of the most alarming points. As I was waiting in line for the bathroom (because it makes sense to have only one ladies’ stall in a restaurant/bar with over 100 people drinking profusely), I couldn’t help but notice that everyone sounded just like me! My “American” accent didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. But what was most odd, was that no one was surprised that I was American. Usually when I travel, I’m used to people being taken aback once I start speaking because they assume that I am a local. Nope, not here.

Nairobi Nights

Apparently, in Nairobi’s expat community, the weekend starts on Thursday night. I could have sworn that I was telecast to Marshall Street or College Park or Adams Morgan (or any other college town for those of you who are unfamiliar with those locales). My colleague and I went to a Cuban restaurant for dinner and drinks for her friend. When we walked in, the scene was quite overwhelming. The bar was packed and people were literally hovering over each other talking, drinking, and having a good time. I was actually taken aback because I wasn’t expecting any of this- at all. I don’t know if it’s because it was only my second night in the cit or the clientele, which I wasn’t expecting, but it was all a lot to take in, especially at once. Luckily, we were able to retreat to the back of the restaurant and found a table in the corner, where the scene was a bit less “overwhelming”.

The food was DELICIOUS! It was Cuban and I had prawns with tostones (fried green plaintains). I thoroughly enjoyed my meal along with a bottle of wine and great conversation. I almost forgot where I was until it was time to leave our little nook in the corner of the restaurant.

Walking back out and through the bar centered party that had literally tripled in size was quite an experience. In addition to the young professional expats who were by this time fairly drunk, some Kenyan prostitutes joined the party. Under normal circumstances, I would have been a tad bit self-conscious that someone might mistaken me for a prostitute, but luckily I was fully dressed. Them, not so much… But they were having a great time, gyrating against smitten European men, while onlookers got sneak peaks of their “goodies”.

As I meandered through the crowd, one decided to greet me with a head butt to the forehead. For a split second I wondered if she thought I had encroached into her territory and was fighting me for her “track”, but then she profusely apologized and I acknowledged that she was drunk and in an effort to impress her potential john, she exaggerated her laugh, throwing her head back and right into my forehead. Great.
But I was able to escape and without any knots on my head in the morning.

Luxurious

Today, I got the French manicure an dpedicure ever for $1.20. TOTAL! The nail technician was amazing and more meticulous with each nail than I have ever experienced. I wish there was a way I could bring him back with me. It’s instances like this that heighten my desire to live here. If you have enough money (which is average in US terms) you can live extremely comfortably here. At my friend’s house, we have a housekeeper who comes every morning to clean the house and do laundry. She is paid $60/month. I f I am able to become employed by a US organization, I will move here in a heartbeat.