How to Use Up Your Last Hours and Shillings in Africa

For some reason international flights from Nairobi always seem to leave at 11:00 at night.  You fly through the night and land in London (or this time, Brussels) first thing in the morning.  Maybe the idea behind the scheduling is that passengers can sleep during the flight and arrive at their destination with the whole day ahead of them.  Obviously this would be based on the mistaken assumption that passengers are able to sleep on the airplane.  Or the whole thing was devised by someone who flies in those British Airways first class seats that stretch out practically flat inside their own little cabins.  I will never forgive the airlines for forcing the rest of us to walk past those tantalizing berths on the way to our places in the economy sardine tin.  Someday, someday, I will spend my 10 hours in luxurious comfort... maybe?

Anyway, flight times being what they are, I've had the whole day to kill before even going to the airport.  Yesterday I weighed my options... to keep my guest room for the day or to have a little bit more money at my disposal?  To eat in their dining hall or at the ArtCafé in Westgate mall?  That made the decision obvious.  Nothing against the Mennonite guest house; it is God's gift to the missionaries of East Africa--beautiful, relaxing, and good food--but still, come on.  So I got up in good time this morning, showered and packed, and checked out well before the normal deadline.

Strategy time.  My last day in Africa also happens to be the last day before my bank finishes processing this month's money.  With careful examining of my account balance and meticulous calculations involving the current exchange rate and international withdrawal fees, I determined that I could indeed take out the money needed to pay the guest house (I'm sure they're happy), pay the taxi driver who will take me to the airport (kinda necessary), and have a little left over besides (joy!).  Exchange rates lately have been very kind to Americans living in East Africa, and I am grateful.

Once at the mall (a mall!) I went into the attached Nakumatt, mainly from habit.  (Have I mentioned Nakumatt before?  It's a wonderland.  Think VeggieTales' "Stuff Mart!")  There I wandered up and down the aisles, noting things I should get for my house... next year.  Counting my Kenyan shillings, I did buy a couple small things: a gift I somehow remembered and a little bag of Doritos.  Because it's so thrilling to be in a place where cheesy chips are available.  Apologizing, I paid with a 1000/= bill (about $11) and asked for change.  The cashier asked if a 500/= note was ok, and I wanted to bless him.  Fellow Musomans, can you imagine that--not only change, but a choice of bills?

After Nakumatt I made my way to another exciting place you can find in Nairobi--a bookstore!  Is there a better place to kill time?  In my experience, Nairobi bookstores are enchanting because the shelves are usually stuffed to overflowing, so that any attempts at organization are only half successful.  Also, you never know what you'll find in the "New Arrivals" or "Bestsellers" sections (in stark contrast to American stores).  Plenty of happy browsing.  And with my week's "layover" in Holland, I will definitely need another book... prices certainly won't be any better there... so my browsing took on something of an investigative purpose.  I am pretty picky about what books I buy, after all.  A couple candidates turned up: a new Inspector Ghote reprint (books I'd never heard of) or something by Bill Bryson (whom I've been curious about).  Recounting the shillings in my purse--could I buy a book and lunch?  I walked out with Bryson's Neither Here nor There, because I am going to be in Europe, and it's always nice to laugh at other people's traveling misfortunes, for once.  I might even come across some handy tidbits for teasing my Dutch friends; we Americans need all the help we can get.

Lunch at the ArtCafé, and fortunately I remembered to order a strawberry smoothie.  I don't know how they get it so fruity--simply glorious.  I think I may have ordered the same pasta dish I had last time, in January, but I didn't care.  I noticed that the food was not only delicious but truly hot, not just warm.  Hmm, just what have I grown accustomed to?  More careful counting of my remaining shillings, and I determined that I could even get something at Dormans, a Kenyan coffee shop chain.  So I settled myself in a comfortable chair to continue my enjoyable introduction to Bill Bryson (feeling very much NOT in Africa) and ordered a fascinating Mocha Masala (delectable).

Eventually I decided I was ready to leave, and I hired another taxi with my carefully husbanded shillings.  The road outside the mall's exit was crowded, as usual, and I got another chance to marvel at the variety of things held up to your window by peddlers walking the median.  (One must be very careful not to make eye contact, and if possible to watch only out of the corner of your eye.  Then you should be ok.  Except for the opportunistic kids who will, given half a chance, accompany their smiling demands of "Geev me mah-ney!" with hands thrust palm-up in through your vehicle's open windows.)  Items for sale include fruit, sunglasses, handmade wire toys, pirated dvds, banana leaf paintings, and... puppies.  Live, adorable puppies.  Well, I guess it's a good place to tempt foreigners (who can be so susceptible to cute balls of fur).  Never boring.  And now I know where my friends got their wicker furniture.

So I'm back at the guest house with a few hours still to go.  I suppose that's the reason I'm taking the liberty of boring the world at large with the trivia of my day.  Or perhaps I've been regrettably influenced by Bill Bryson.  Oh well.  You didn't have to read it.