Dale Zurawski
Nairobi, Kenya vs Kigali, Rwanda
Standing in front of a mural in Nairobi
Geoff and I arrived on African soil on July 4. Our first stop, Nairobi, Kenya, was shocking and scary. Our second stop, Kigali, Rwanda, reaffirmed our belief that the next five months would be interesting and worth our time.
Nairobi felt like a dangerous and chaotic plane. Two, three, or more passengers didn't wear helmets on the motorcycle taxis, called moto taxis. The street scene with cars, buses, pedestrians, trucks, and construction was fast-paced. No sidewalks or crosswalks made it nearly impossible to cross the road.
Kigali by comparison felt safe. Both the driver and the passengers use helmets. The driver carries an extra helmet for the passenger, and the number of passengers is limited to one. The same cars, buses, trucks, and moto taxis were speeding around, but at least there were crosswalks, sidewalks, and traffic police.
Nairobi was chaos, whereas Kigali was organized chaos.
Mototaxis in Nairobi on the left and Kigali on the right.
Scenes from the Kibera slum in Nairobi
Kibera, the slums of Nairobi, are known the world over for their depth of poverty. Twenty years ago we drove past Kibera in route to The Giraffe Reserve. At that time I quoted Chuch Thompson in his comic travel memoir, Smile When You are Lying, 'The village was a great sprawling shit hole of poverty, filth, and decay, yet bursting with people.'
Since then Kibera has a paved road that runs through it, solar streetlights installed by an American NGO, and water delivered to taps throughout the slum. It costs money, and the water must be hauled in 5 gallon yellow jugs to the mud shacks., but at least they have water. There are a few public toilets and a shower at these facilities, but again they cost money.
In Vincent, our tour guide's house, we found a room maybe 6 feet wide, with the bedroom and kitchen separated by a sheet. The place was immaculate and didn't smell at all. There was a bucket indoors used for a toilet. Where they drained it, I have no idea.
Vincent's house was typical of the other homes in Kibera. The people live in one-room shacks made of mud or pieces of corrugated metal that lean up along the sides and are somehow wired to the same rusted corrugated metal as the sides.
The photos below are scenes from Kibera. The first is the inside of Vincent's house with my water bottle on the table. The next two are the building material used for the nicer houses and a soccer field next to a garbage dump. The bottom photo was taken at an elementary school after a performance of singing, dance, and drumming.
The slums of Kigali are more like small houses for poor people. They all have electricity, water, and indoor toilets connected to a sewage system. If they are made of mud, they are plastered on the outside. Many houses have windows and doors. Some have corrugated metal roofs, and some have red tile roofs. The slum slowly merges into regular lower- and then middle-class areas. Crossing the road and getting past the tall brick wall with a metal gate to enter the upper class is a bit harder.
Not that Nairobi wasn't a fascinating place. It was the first African country we visited. Our guides showed us the highlights. One driver, Kevin, took us out for a night on the town. He held my hand as we dodged between cars, mototaxis, and buses. There were plenty of other people doing the same, because there were no crosswalks. Once on the other side of the street, we walked single file along a dirt path adjacent and too close to the road to count as a sidewalk. After dinner over blaring music, we went to a nice bar, mostly empty at 8:30, and watched Morocco beat Canada in the World Cup. Next, we moved on to the Pregame Bar for $1 tequila shots. This was an all-locals place where you came to get blasted on cheap drinks and warm up for the dance floor.
The women were beautiful, friendly enough to dance with me, and amazing at dirty dancing. We loved it. Then we said it was time for us to go. Kevin looked shocked; the night was still early. He had no idea 10:30 was our bedtime.
The Giraffe Center just outside Nairobi is worth seeing. On a platform, level with their faces, we dropped pellets on their long rough tongues. Kids and their parents joined us for the excitement of feeding the giraffes. The Center has returned 100 giraffes since our visit 20 years ago. In case you come across a crossword puzzle word, towers is the name for a group of giraffes.
Skip the National Museum. It is a natural history museum like all the others. It's mostly a series of rooms full of stuffed wild animals and birds.
Nairobi and Kigali have many more things in common than not. In both the people are welcoming and warm. Their smiles seemed to mean so much more than the often false and empty Americans smiles.
The people were clean and their clothes were fashionable and in good shape thanks to the amount of clothing I give each year to Goodwill. Their countries are spectacular; they take great pride in their wildlife; and their women are beautiful.
One lesson I took away from Nairobi and Kigali is that not all bottled water is the same. The bottled water I drank while sitting in our guide's family space gave me a bout of Africa's Revenge. I will spare all of us the details.