Kenya diary - Part 2

Old city of Mombasa, 25 September 2012

If Nairobi looked like other modern cities with highways and skyscappers, old city of Mombasa is like Chandani chowk in Delhi, with its narrow winding streets bursting with life. Mombasa is full of mosques and women in black veils.

It is evening but it is not yet dark. After a long working day, coming back to the hotel, I had decided to go out and explore. Tiziana had warned me, “Be careful with your camera and come back before it gets dark.” 

In the old city, I find another Jain temple in one of the alleys of the old town.

It is made of white stone with exquisite designs. The temple also has a library with books and magazines in Gujarati.

As I come out in the street, I see two asian looking men speaking a language that I can vaguely understood. “Can you please tell me how to the go to the old port”, I ask them in English.

One of the men smiles and offers to accompany me towards the port. “It is not so easy to go there through these alleys, you will get lost. You should go out of the old town, and then from the main road, it will be easier to get there.”

We walk together in companionable silence. “Which language was it that you were speaking to to your friend?” I ask him.

“Kutchi, a language from Saurashtra in Gujarat”, he tells me.

He is Shailesh, and he was born in Mombasa. His grandfather had come here from India. They still have some uncles and aunts in India though he has never been there. “Yahi mera desh hai”, he says in Hindi and smiles.

His house is near the main road. When we reach there, he indicates the road going towards the old port and folds his hands in namaste. At the corner of the street, there is a big building of Bank of India and on the other side of the road, the old Portuguese fort.

It is becoming dark and I remember Tiziana’s warning, so I turn back to the hotel without going to the old port. It can wait for another day.

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Old port of Mombasa, 27 September 2012

We are going back to Nairobi today but our flight is in the afternoon. With Tiziana, I go to visit the old port, where ships from Asia used to come and Africans for the slave trade were taken to different parts of the world. The water in the bay is supposed to be very deep, so ships can come close to the land.

The streets of the old port are like those of the old city, narrow and winding. In one old building near the stairs going down to the port, there is an nice old restaurant. We go there to drink some tamarind juice. It is well diluted but still it has the tangy sour taste of Tamarind. Unlike rasam, it has no spices, and people usually drink it with sugar. However, I drink it natural without adding anything else. I love it.

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Kenyata tower, Nairobi, 28 September 2012

Our morning meeting is late so rather than sitting and waiting for an hour, I decide to walk to Kenyata tower and take a trip to the top. The ticket for foreigners is about 4 dollars and the lift takes you to 27th floor. From there you need to climb the stairs to the 30th floor.

I walk all around the circular terrace, trying to identify buildings and places.

"The Asians live there, in that rich part of Nairobi", the guide pointed to me. Is there a mild rebuke in his voice? I have heard that rebuke other times as well, about rich Asians who control all the commerce and zip around in fancy cars, keeping their distance from the local persons.

I think that the Asians know it, this feeling of local resentment against "foreigners" who take away their riches and do not mix with them. I am not sure if they have any political party here like the Italian Northern League or the Maharashtrian Nav Nirmal Sena, inciting locals against "outsiders".

"I am a tourist, and I have come only for a few days", I tell the guide to distance myself from the Kenyan Asians.

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Naivasha, 29 September 2012

Today is my last day in Kenya. Tomorrow, I have an early morning flight back to Europe. Today we are going to spend the day doing some sightseeing in Naivasha in the Rift valley. The journey from Nairobi takes about 2 hours in the car and I love the descent from the mountains down to the savanna with wonderful views of the valley including an old mountain with a volcano crater from prehistoric times.

On our way to Oloiden lake, we stop at Shimba lodge on Naivasha lake for a coffee. While waiting for the coffee, I walk around. There are many ibis and deer in the park. Suddenly I see a white bird with black spots, wings flapping widly, getting ready to dive in the water to catch a fish. I aim the camera and click furiously, my heart palpitating. That bird is marvellous.

Afterwards, while sipping the coffee, I check the images to see if I have managed to catch that bird on my camera. Most of the images look blurred but there are a couple that look good.

Oloiden lake does not get many visiters. There are no tourist lodges or hotels here, only rural houses. Near the lake there is a community project that runs some boat trips for 4 thousand shillings ( about 425 dollars). Women are taking bath in the lake on one side and on the other side, a group of pink flamingos is in the water.

The boat trip is absolutely amazing. The dark green waters look cool, with geese, groups of flamingos and other water birds. Near the edges of the lake, there are lot of hyppos, submerged in water. In the forest around the lake, there are many zebras, giraffes and deer.

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We go to Fisherman’s cove on Naivasha lake for lunch. While we wait for lunch, Wilson, our driver, points out the monkeys on the trees. They are small monkeys, black in colour, with a snow white fur on parts of their faces, backs and tails. These are called Colobus.

On some trees, they have fixed small wooden ledges with food for monkeys and birds. One of the monkeys finally comes down to one ledge to eat. However, when I try to go close to it, it runs away.

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The day is not yet over. We go to Hells Gate safari park. This is the only safari park in Kenya where you can rent a bicycle and go around the park on it or even walk there. This is because there are no big cats (lions and jaguars) in this park and it is relatively safe. The most “dangerous” animal in the park are wild buffaloes. Park ticket is 25 dollars for foreigners.

It is full of zebras, giraffes, deer and warthogs. However the most beautiful thing about the park are its rugged rocks and craggy rocky hills. The panorama is wonderful.

The park has a wonderful narrow gorge called Hell’s gate. However, if it rains it is dangerous to go there because rain water from all the surrounding hills comes down thundering in the gorge, sweeping away everything. Some tourists have even died there after sudden rain falls.

Looking at the dark omnious clouds, we decide to forego the gorge trek, and go back to Nairobi.

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The missed flight, 1 October 2012

Our flight was cancelled today because of some technical problems in the plane. We waited for more than 3 hours in the plane, waiting for the take-off. However, once Kenya airways decided that the flight was going to be cancelled, they were surprisingly efficient. We were quickly brought to a five star hotel in the city centre, not far from Kenyata tower. We have to stay here for one day and our flight will be tomorrow morning.

I have had cancelled flights many times but usually it takes hours for the airlines to organise everything and provide hotels. In comparison, the way Kenya airways has dealt with it is really great.

The view from the hotel room window is very nice but I have no desire to go out. I am spending the day working on my reports.

During lunch I had met a lady and a couple from Netherlands. The lady had been visiting some development projects in Kenya and some other countries. She looked a little anxious but has a beautiful smile. The man in the couple had also worked in a community development project in Kenya for six months a few years ago and now had come back with his wife to visit his old friends.

Our conversation was easy and friendly, probably because we are all linked to the “international development world” that goes from “developed” countries towards the “developing” countries.

For dinner also, I again sat with them, our conversation taking off from where it had been interrupted at lunch.

I feel comfrotable with them and this makes me feel guilty. Sitting in a five star hotel, with rooms that cost more than the monthly salaries of the people we are supposed to help, and going back to our comfortable worlds in Europe!

I did stay in realy simple and basic accomodation for all the visit and I did not choose to come here in this luxurious hotel, I tell myself, trying to assauge my guilt, while we eat our five star buffet.

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You can also read part 1 of this diary.

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This post was originally written in 2012

Kenya Diary - Part 1

The journey, 19 January 2012 

It is not yet five o’clock when I reach the Bologna airport. The self check-in at a machine in the airport makes me feel like an old human model that has been long overtaken by newer and better functioning models. I fumble and curse till a young lady feels obliged to come and help me complete it.

The self check-in does not mean that I don’t have to queue to check-in the luggage and I am not sure if the airlines save any real time this way, except may be for persons who do not have luggage for check-in?

There are two young women standing in the queue behind me, bitching about their boss. Their conversation is a torrent of Italian cuss words, with plenty of assholes, dickheads and fucking-offs. Probably a second world war sailor would have been proud to have that vocabulary. It makes me smile and wake up. And I can feel a little pity towards their boss. Poor sod does not stand any chance, these two would eat him in one gulp, without ever burping!

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Can someone help me, the guy in front of me asks the lady at the desk, checking the boarding passes. “Sorry, we don’t have anyone, you have to manage yourself”, the lady answers without looking up.

The guy looks young, in early twenties, and is probably south american. He has two bags, one on each shoulder, a ruck sack on his back, a pram with a baby, another bag hanging from the pram, a doll and some toys. We need to go down the stairs to a waiting bus and I find the young man standing there holding the baby and folding the pram, with bags scattered all around him. A couple of other passengers pass by without stopping. I ask him to give me the baby and a bag. It is a baby girl and she is still sleeping. He manages to pick up the remaining things and we reach the bus.

I go up the stairs to the plane behind him, still carrying the baby who smells of milk and is so soft in my arms. Her name is Noemi and they are going to Lima, Peru. She has woken up and she smiles at me and touches my cheek with her tiny hands. As I hand her to the guy in the plane, I feel a tiny tug of regret.

Is he her father? Did he have a fight with her mother and is taking away the baby with him? He seems so tender and careful with her, holding her in his arms and feeding her with a bottle. Or may be they are immigrants and need to work, so they don’t know where to leave the baby during the day. There are not enough day care centres in Bologna for the young babies of working mothers and anyway, are so costly and out of reach for immigrants. May be he is going to leave her with the grandparents in Peru till she grows up a little and can go to school? Why is the baby’s mother not with them? She did not get leave or they did not have enough money for the two air-tickets? I keep on thinking about them for some time.

Thousands of immigrants go through similar life choices, and probably hundreds of thousands of children grow up like that, without their parents. If I had a child like Noemi and I had to leave her like this, how would I feel? The idea makes me feel like crying.

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The training, 22 September 2012

It is the third day of training and there are about 25 persons from different grassroots organisations from different parts of Kenya participating in it.

The first two days have gone very well. On the first day we had worked on different kinds of disabilities, the barriers they face and how communities can help in removing those barriers. On the second day, we had focused on working collectively through self-help groups and organisations of persons with disabilities. I am not showing them any slides or making any presentations except when we conclude the day and I want to go through the different things we had discussed together during the day. During the day we work through discussions and I stimulate them to share their ideas and experiences.

Carol, a psychologist teaching in a Nairobi university, is helping me to facilitate this training. She is wonderful. She listens to my ideas and then interprets them in her own ways, explaining them to the participants in Kshwahili. So I don’t need to worry about making cultural gaffes.

However, today it is not going on so well. We are supposed to work on advocacy and how to influence decision makers. I have started a discussion on how different groups in the society influence decision makers in different ways, and we had been talking about bribing, corruption and nepotism. I can sense a wariness in the group and discussions are punctuated by long periods of silences.

In the city centre, I had seen a very eloquent graffitti about corruption in the Kenyan politics. I am sure that people from all countries can relate to that graffitti, because corruption has no boundaries.

We talk about transparency and democracy in the organisations, and I can see tense faces all around me. Completing this session has been a real struggle and I feel frustrated.

Afterwards I speak to Tiziana about it. “What were you expecting?” she asks me, “You are touching on some raw nerves there. Corruption, nepotism is not just in politics, or among high ups. Though on a much smaller scale, it is also there in all organisations, even in grassroots organisations.”

***

Jain temple in Nairobi, 22 September 2012

Nairobi is full of Jain temples. On our way to Limuru road where are having the training, I pass in front of three big temples every day. During the lunch break, I decide to go and visit the one close to our training centre.

The temple has statues of Mahavir and different thirthankaars. Murali, the priest is from Rajasthan. He came here in 1988. Before him, his father was a priest here.

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Wild life in Nairobi, 23 September 2012

We are free today and Tiziana takes me to the Nairobi national park. It is a wild life safari park inside the city, just 7 km from the city centre, close to the airport.

I buy a 50 dollar foreigner’s ticket for a safar in an old run down bus. The bus if mostly full of Kenyans, who have to pay about 4 dollars for this trip. Most foreigners do the safari in small jeeps, paying 200 dollars per person.

The Nairobi national park is incredible. It starts in the lush green forest and quickly goes down the hills towards a vast savanna with tall dry grass full of zebras, giraffes, baboons, wild buffaloes, impala and other varies of deer, white and grey rhinos, hyppos and lions.

Yet all around the savanna you can see the new houses and sky scappers of Nairobi, circling the national park. The pressure of growing urbanization, attrition between wildlife and people all around and poaching are big problems, the guide acknowledges sadly.

The three hour long safari trip is worth the money. We are lucky since we can see almost all the different animals during this trip, except for the male lion. To compensate for that, we find a lioness with her cubs, resting on a mound a little way away from the bus track.

There is also a zoo-safari park near the entrance to the national park. However, for 25 dollars ticket for the foreigners, I found it disappointing in comparison to the ride in the national park.

(End of part 01)

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This post was originally written in 2012

Foot-loose in Rome

I was in Rome for a meeting that was supposed to finish around 4 PM. Since these days the sun sets around 5.15 PM, it meant that I was going to have about one hour of daylight for visiting some places after finishing my work and before taking the train back home.

Rome is one of my favourite cities. Almost every stone that you bump against in Rome, has usually a history of at least thousand years. So every time that I can, usually I try to visit some new place in the city.

There are certain parts of the city centre in Rome that go from Piazza del Popolo through Spanish steps and fountain of Trevi to Piazza Navona and Fatherland's Alter, that I can visit every day without getting tired.

I am also a bit quirky, in the sense that I usually set myself some rules when I visit a city. Sometimes, these rules are linked to photography - like when I decide to focus on a particular colour, and wherever I see that colour, I click its pictures. On this visit, my rule was - No transport, only walking.

So, come and join me on this tour to some parts of Rome, the eternal city.

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The map below shows my tour-route in Rome. The part in blue is my walk in the morning for going to the meeting. The part in red is my visit to the city after the meeting. I think that altogether, in this tour I walked for about 10 km.

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The high speed train from Bologna to Rome took a little more 2 hours. When I arrived in Rome, it was 9.15 AM. My meeting was going to start at 9.30, so I walked briskly, turning right from the station and then taking Via Goito.

Though it is a relatively new residential area, without many historical buildings, still I like to keep my eyes open to look for any interesting places that may be hidden on the way. Like the statues and old church in via Cernaia. I could not resist the temptation to look at those statues. It made my walk a little longer.

On Via XX settembre, a busy street, I was surprised to find orange trees full of fruits. In Europe, often people don't pluck fruit from trees along the roads, preferring to leave them to rot. However, with all the beggars and immigrants in Rome, it was surprising that those trees had so much fruit!

In Fiume square, I saw an interesting looking old building. It seemed to be from 15th or 16th century. However, there was no time to stand and look at it properly as I was running a little late for my meeting.

After the meeting, I quickly walked to Villa Borghese museum, determined to take advantage of every remaining minute of daylight. Villa Borghese is a 16th century building from noble Roman family. It is surrounded by acres of beautiful parks, full of things to see including some lakes and many statues.

The splendour of Borghese family led to the use of the word "borghese" (bourgeois) as a synonym decadent life-styles of the rich, used frequently by communist ideologues all over the world.

There was no time to visit the art museum or the zoo that are located in the gardens of Villa Borghese. It was nice to walk in the middle of grassy meadows where children were playing and dog owners were out for their evening walks. I looked around for any statues, fountains and interesting buildings.

The evening darkness was not very helpful, but still I clicked a lot of pictures, that will be useful for my photoblog in the coming days!

By the time I arrived at the Pincio terrace (pronounced Pinchio), overlooking the Popolo square, sun was almost down and lights had come on. There was a beautiful sculpture exhibition by Mexican artist Javier Marìn on the terrace. It included giant sculptures of terracotta heads and wonderful statues of horsemen on top of columns. The view of the dome of St. Peter's church, seen through the sculptures of Marìn was incredibly beautiful.

I was mesmerized by those sculptures and the views from the terrace. So I spent a lot of time gazing around and clicking pictures. Finally I climbed down the hill to the Popolo square. The Egyptian obelisk with fountains and the statues on the sides of the Popolo square, glowing in the evening lights, looked like a set from Benhur or Ten Commandments.

After spending some time admiring the Popolo square, I finally took Via del Corso to S. Silvestro square. Via del Corso was full of people, which surprised me. It is true that it was a Saturday evening and Via del Corso is a traffic-free street, so crowds were bound to be there. Still I was not expecting it to be so packed with people.

Outside a church on Via del Corso I saw a young woman asking money to people. Though she was begging, she had her dignity. She had her own folding chair on which she sat primly with a bottle of mineral water, to ask for money. It made me smile.

I had already been walking for almost three hours and my feet were starting to hurt. So I sat down in S. Silvestro square and rested for a few minutes.

A short walk from S. Silvestro square brought me to Trevi fountain, my favourite place in Rome. The only time, I manage to find this place without too many tourists is very early in the morning. This time it was evening and it was full of people.

By now my feet were hurting seriously and I was tempted to take the metro to finish the last part of my Rome walk. Somehow I resisted the temptation and took Via Barberini. When I reached Repubblica square, I was glad that I had not taken the metro, because with lights, the central fountain was absolutely wonderful.

I reached the Termini railway station just in time for my train. My feet were almost numb with pain, so it was a relief to sit down in the train and put up my feet on the foot rest. It had been a long day, but I was very satisfied with my Rome walk.

I have another meeting later this month in Rome, and I am already making plans for other places to see during my next visit.

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My best images of horses

As the title says, this post is about the best images of horses in my picture archives.

The idea of this post came a few days ago, when I was in Rome. It was evening and I had walked through the gardens of Villa Borghese, and reached the Pincio terrace. There was an exhibition of the sculptures by the Mexican artist Javier Marìn, including some sculptures of horses. The evening light, the view of Rome skyline and the horses lined up as a medieval army marching on to Rome, they had all combined to make it an incredible emotional experience.

Thinking about that experience, came the idea of putting together my favourite images of horses from my picture archives. Thus, here are 25 of my favourite images of horses that I have selected for this post.

(1) The first image is of St. Nicholas, the patron saint of Cech republic, from Prague. Warriers on their horses have been a popular theme for cities to show off their glorious pasts. Most images of horses reflect this very male way of celebration of national pride. Usually women are missing from such sculptures, or they are sometimes shown standing close, looking with admiration towards the great warriors.

(2) The next two images are from Cape Town in South Africa. The first one has two naked young men with a horse in the middle. Once again, here horse is a symbol of male power and strength. Again this is a common way of expressing power of youth by putting together a horse with a nude male figure, as you will see from many images below.

The second image from Cape Town is that of an old style merry go round for children. I like the three horses with 3 different expressions of this image.

(4) The next two images are from Geneva in Switzerland. Both are from the garden on the left bank of Le Man lake. It is a beautiful stretch for a walk that brings together lake and gently rolling hills on one side, verdant grass, beautiful flowers and art pieces on the other. If you are ever in Geneva, remember to keep at least half a day to explore it.

The first image has once again a horse with a nude young man.

(5) I love the artististic horse of the next image from the lakeside in Geneva. The two ridges on its snout, expressing man's control and domination of the animal, touch a deep emotional chord in me. In the beauty of its art, I feel the anguish of the animal.

(6) The next image is from India and is the only female figure sitting on a horse like a warrior. I saw this statue in Agra. It has Jhalkari Bai, the soldier in the army of Rani Jhansi in the fight against the British in 1857. She had dressed as the Queen of Jhansi to create confusion among the British soldiers.

(7) The next two images from Lisbon in Portugal and are supposed to glorify Portuguese warrior-kings. I like the background of the castle behind the horse.

(8) The warrior king on his horse from Lisbon, Portugal. In front of the sea, this is one of the most beautiful squares in Portugal and rich details of the staute express the colonial power.

(9) The next six images are from London (UK), a city rich in equestrian statues. The first one is a Roman statue, with a nude man sitting on the horse. I love the way the light from the transparent dome of British museum, gives this marble statue a distinct greenish tinge.

(10) The stylized horse and the nude man sitting on him from Kensington gardens in London is another favourite.

(11) The head of the horse in Marble Arch in London is both horrifying and magnetic. It reminds me of a scene from Mario Puzo's famous book Godfather.

(12) New parts of London around Greenwich are full of glass and steel skyscrappers all around the river Thames. This image has the half man and half horse figure from the Greek mythology.

(13) The next image is from a road near Piccadilly in central London. I like the way the General sitting on his horse seems to be admiring the Greek looking paintings on the house.

(14) The next image has once again a children's merry-go-round, this time it is from Covent Garden in central London.

(15) Next image has the Mongolian hero Changis Khan, not far from the national capital Ulaan Baator in Mongolia. This statue is huge and there is a lift inside it, just like the statue of Liberty in New York. So you can go up the statue and take a walk along the man's crown and along the back of the horse.

(16) Next image, once again from Mongolia, is the only image of a living horse in this collection. I often take picture of horses in the countries I visit, but somehow I have never managed to take a picture that I really like. The only exception to this was in Mongolia, where I took many pictures of Mongolian pastors going around on horses, that I had liked. From those images I have chosen this one as it gives an idea of vast open spaces, where lives of animals and people are closely intertwined.

(17) The next 4 images are from Vienna in Austria. Like London, Vienna is also very rich in equestrian statues, expressing the power of its kings. I like the green colour of Bronze statues very much.

(18) The image below is a close up of the image above, the patterns created by the green of oxidized bronze are easier to see here.

(19) The next image from Vienna is the only one where the man sitting on the horse is expressing wealth rather than warrior's power and courage. In a way those noble men with their wigs and fineries were the precurosrs of metrosexual men of today.

(20) The last image from Vienna is a variation on the horse with the youthful nude. Somehow this nude figure gives me an impression of being a woman, but I am not sure about it.

(21) The next image is from a Buddhist temple in Hanoi, Vietnam that shows a paper horse made as an offering at the temple. Such paper animals are burnt as part of prayers.

(22) The next four images are from Italy. The first one is from Assisi and has St Francis as a child from a noble family sitting on his richly decorated horse. Both the man's and the animal's posture reflect introspection, the desire to leave the world's possessions and to devote their lives to spirituality.

(23) The next image is from Capitol hill in Rome, and it has the mythological figure of Castor, one of the twins of Gemini constellation, guarding the entrance to the building.

(24) A detail from the beautiful Trevi fountain in Rome that has a man with the conch and his horse. This figure also looks mythological, though I am not sure if it represents a specific figure.

(25) The last image of this collection is that of sculptures by Javier Marìn on Pincio terrace in Rome, that had triggered off this reflection and this post about horses.

Just looking at this image gives me goose pumps as it reminds me of my experience from that evening in Rome.

So I hope that you have enjoyed this trip through images of horses from different countries, as much as I have enjoyed putting it together.

If you want to read my diary of the Rome visit that stimulated this post, you can read it here.

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