ohb

The chair and other stories.

My poor body doesn't know what's going on and my head is still trying to catch up with it. I'm freezing, I've the fire lighting here in Rossmacowen, though this time last year I would have been melting at this temperature. I wonder what next January will bring.
Things have changed for the better though lads, last year it seemed everyone was dying while I was away now people are planning to get married, it's brilliant. Congrats to Tracy and Mick and the Rocks and anyone else who is just holding out for a bit of space to make their announcement. Just bear in mind, I'm a cheap invitee as there's no partner attached!
Leaving Africa was a bit like the last time I flew out of Russia, the time I succumbed to the pressure of the 'bribe'. Padraig drove us to the airport, with James and Steven in the back of the jeep. Steven is Padraig's official driver and though that sounds incredibly pompous its a necessity with the roads or lack thereof in Kenya. They usually share the driving and to be honest it's imperative to have a non- muzongo traveling with you, especially in the North. While in Turkana we went out to this place called Kakuma - get your maps out there lads, and on the way back the road was covered in bushes, there had been an ambush there the day before, I didn't ask any questions.
That part of Kenya is truly bandit country and they are not racist, anyone will do, no questions asked. Kakuma is home to an enormous refugee camp, 89,000 as far as I remember. Sundanese mainly, it's run by the UN who maintain a huge wired off compound for their employees a little further down the road. It's a very strange place, at first glance it was the most highly organised settlement I had seen thus far in Kenya. Little avenues and 'fenced' off areas containing four or five huts. A central trading area with an internet shack and hundreds of boda-bodas weaving and wheeling around the wandering masses. If I lived in Africa I would be a boda-boda operator. They are these huge bikes in the old fashioned Raleigh style with a flat wide carrier on the back. These carriers are softened with home made plastic covered cushioned with all manner of messages and advertising on them. They're brilliant, all hand painted or embroidered but matching exactly the branding of some multinational company or English football team. Arsenally was my favourite, it's 20 shillings a trip uphill/downhill in my lady's chamber, they go everywhere. Some ladies travel side saddle and often you see three kids going home from school sitting one encircling the other and the cyclist not even breaking a sweat.
I bought a chair in the camp, partly because I liked it and partly because it seemed so surreal to be in the midst of so many displaced people and yet this business of buying and selling was continuing as normal.
There is a lot of mixed feeling about the camp amongst other aid workers and the people themselves. In it's intrinsic nature it should be a temporary thing but there is no sign of it ending. The figures for last year alone were scary, 7,000 more people arrived and only 150 were repatriated. They receive food on a daily basis and this alone has two sides as it doesn't provide any encouragement for development or self advancement as the food has been there and will be there as long as they are in the camp.
There are entrepreneurs of course and they are flying it. It was funny for me to become aware of the inter-tribal and inter-country relationships, the Somalis for example are seen as brilliant business men, in the sense that they always have and make money. The Kenyan tribes are another world altogether. Kikuyus who are in government at the moment are seen as con-men but yet intelligent enough not to get caught. The list goes on, they think the Turkanna are barbaric, coming from such a remote area and still existing as herders and holding the more traditional values, a bit like the Irish view Kerry-men I suppose!
My chair has the name Angelina engraved on the top of it, but as we wandered around the rest of the training centre they sanded it off, I was going to give it to Niamh and Bryan as a wedding present but we'll have to see!
Ronan Collins is on the radio now, I hate change why oh why, did they move John Creedon?

posted by orlagh @ 4:45 am