The recent elections in Kenya remind me of some twenty-five years ago when I was a Visiting Professor at the University of Nairobi. Although the movie, "Out of Africa," starring Meryl Streep and Robert Redford had made a big splash, Africa was not high on my priorities. However, when I got an offer from Winrock International Foundation to spend two years as a Visiting Professor in Kenya, I couldn't resist.
Before I got to the apartment that was to be my home for two years, I was reminded of the perils of not being cautious. Although advised to put valuables in the hotel safe, I put $2,000 in travelers' checks in a suit coat lapel pocket hanging in the closet. Each night upon returning to the hotel, I checked to see if they were still there. Yup, no problem.
When I got to my permanent digs, I sorted and arranged my stuff, including my traveler's checks consisting of two packs, each containing ten one hundred dollar checks. It must have been an idle moment. Even though they were obviously - or so it seemed - all there, I counted them. Eighteen instead of 20 - must have counted wrong. I counted again - 18.
How could that be? They were all there, numbered one through nine. Nine? It finally dawned on me. The last numbers in each pack of ten end with digits zero through nine.
The two checks ending in zero were missing, leaving only one through nine.
The clever thief had probably had gotten away with it before. By the time you notice the missing checks ending in zero - if one ever does - it's too late to pinpoint the time, and maybe even the place of theft.
True to their word, American Express replaced the stolen checks. So someone eventually got stuck with two bad checks - maybe even the thief, who knows. But it was a reminder of a fact of life - there are axes all over the place, just waiting to fall.
My apartment was near the main campus of the U. of Nairobi, just across from the historic Norfolk Hotel, favorite haunt of former British Colonists. My office was at the College of Agriculture campus some distance away, in Kabete, on the outskirts of Nairobi.
Winrock furnished me with a vehicle, and as Kenya is a former British Colony, I had to learn to drive on the left side of the road. It helps that the driver's side is on the right hand side of the vehicle, placing you adjacent to the center of the road. But still, the toughest thing to get used to is making a right hand turn, as your mind wants to guide you to the right lane after making the turn.
As a pedestrian, you make sure you look primarily to the right instead of the left when stepping off the curb.
I had occasion to give some lectures up at Moi University at Eldoret. Nairobi is two degrees south of the equator and Eldoret is several degrees north. After a drive across Kenya's spectacular Rift Valley, I came to a wide spot in the road marking the equator. I stopped the vehicle, and stood astride the equator, one foot in the northern hemisphere and one in the southern. I walked back and forth across the equator for about five minutes just for fun, and probably crossed the equator more often than a sailor during his entire career.
Part of the deal with Winrock was that they flew my kids - teenagers at the time - to Kenya over the Christmas holidays both years. It was a chance for us to go on camera safaris to visit Kenya's famous game parks. At the Masai Mara Park in southern Kenya one has a spectacular view of Mt. Kilimanjaro, just across the border in Tanzania.
Beryl Markham a white Kenyan and female adventuress was the first person to fly the Atlantic solo, from east to west in 1936. A made for CBS television movie, "Shadow on the Sun," starring Stephanie Powers, was filmed when I was there. They needed some white guys as extras, so I volunteered. I actually appeared for several seconds along side Stephanie Powers in two scenes. It was great fun, and for my efforts I received a few Kenyan shillings and bragging rights.
Politics in Kenya tends to fall along tribal lines. The dominant tribe is Kikuyu, followed by the Luo, mainly in western Kenya. When I first heard that the father of then-Senator Obama was from Kenya, I thought, hmmm, sounds like a Luo name. I was right.
I recall an incident when the College of Agriculture faculty was having a goat barbecue at the country club adjacent to the Kabete Campus. The Chair of the Agricultural Economics Department was a Luo, Akello-Ogutu. As we were waiting for the meat to roast and sipping Tusker Lager, the premier Kenyan beer, Akello kept wandering off. Finally someone asked him, "Akello, where do you keep disappearing?"
He replied, "I just wanted to make sure those Kikuyus don't run off with that goat before it's done."
A few years after returning, I was in Baltimore, attending meetings of the American Agricultural Economics Association. Economists from all over the world were attending the meetings. As I was riding a bus in downtown Baltimore I heard a familiar accent in the seat behind me.
I took a mild risk and turned around. "Pardon me, but you ladies wouldn't be from Kenya, would you?"
They replied with a surprised, "Yes, how did you know?"
I pressed it further. "Perhaps Kikuyu?"
They were indeed pleasantly shocked. Here was an American white guy who identified not only their country but also their tribe thousands of miles from their home.
It was an interesting two years. I regret that I have not made it back for a visit.
- John Waelti's column appears every Friday in the Times. He can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net.
Before I got to the apartment that was to be my home for two years, I was reminded of the perils of not being cautious. Although advised to put valuables in the hotel safe, I put $2,000 in travelers' checks in a suit coat lapel pocket hanging in the closet. Each night upon returning to the hotel, I checked to see if they were still there. Yup, no problem.
When I got to my permanent digs, I sorted and arranged my stuff, including my traveler's checks consisting of two packs, each containing ten one hundred dollar checks. It must have been an idle moment. Even though they were obviously - or so it seemed - all there, I counted them. Eighteen instead of 20 - must have counted wrong. I counted again - 18.
How could that be? They were all there, numbered one through nine. Nine? It finally dawned on me. The last numbers in each pack of ten end with digits zero through nine.
The two checks ending in zero were missing, leaving only one through nine.
The clever thief had probably had gotten away with it before. By the time you notice the missing checks ending in zero - if one ever does - it's too late to pinpoint the time, and maybe even the place of theft.
True to their word, American Express replaced the stolen checks. So someone eventually got stuck with two bad checks - maybe even the thief, who knows. But it was a reminder of a fact of life - there are axes all over the place, just waiting to fall.
My apartment was near the main campus of the U. of Nairobi, just across from the historic Norfolk Hotel, favorite haunt of former British Colonists. My office was at the College of Agriculture campus some distance away, in Kabete, on the outskirts of Nairobi.
Winrock furnished me with a vehicle, and as Kenya is a former British Colony, I had to learn to drive on the left side of the road. It helps that the driver's side is on the right hand side of the vehicle, placing you adjacent to the center of the road. But still, the toughest thing to get used to is making a right hand turn, as your mind wants to guide you to the right lane after making the turn.
As a pedestrian, you make sure you look primarily to the right instead of the left when stepping off the curb.
I had occasion to give some lectures up at Moi University at Eldoret. Nairobi is two degrees south of the equator and Eldoret is several degrees north. After a drive across Kenya's spectacular Rift Valley, I came to a wide spot in the road marking the equator. I stopped the vehicle, and stood astride the equator, one foot in the northern hemisphere and one in the southern. I walked back and forth across the equator for about five minutes just for fun, and probably crossed the equator more often than a sailor during his entire career.
Part of the deal with Winrock was that they flew my kids - teenagers at the time - to Kenya over the Christmas holidays both years. It was a chance for us to go on camera safaris to visit Kenya's famous game parks. At the Masai Mara Park in southern Kenya one has a spectacular view of Mt. Kilimanjaro, just across the border in Tanzania.
Beryl Markham a white Kenyan and female adventuress was the first person to fly the Atlantic solo, from east to west in 1936. A made for CBS television movie, "Shadow on the Sun," starring Stephanie Powers, was filmed when I was there. They needed some white guys as extras, so I volunteered. I actually appeared for several seconds along side Stephanie Powers in two scenes. It was great fun, and for my efforts I received a few Kenyan shillings and bragging rights.
Politics in Kenya tends to fall along tribal lines. The dominant tribe is Kikuyu, followed by the Luo, mainly in western Kenya. When I first heard that the father of then-Senator Obama was from Kenya, I thought, hmmm, sounds like a Luo name. I was right.
I recall an incident when the College of Agriculture faculty was having a goat barbecue at the country club adjacent to the Kabete Campus. The Chair of the Agricultural Economics Department was a Luo, Akello-Ogutu. As we were waiting for the meat to roast and sipping Tusker Lager, the premier Kenyan beer, Akello kept wandering off. Finally someone asked him, "Akello, where do you keep disappearing?"
He replied, "I just wanted to make sure those Kikuyus don't run off with that goat before it's done."
A few years after returning, I was in Baltimore, attending meetings of the American Agricultural Economics Association. Economists from all over the world were attending the meetings. As I was riding a bus in downtown Baltimore I heard a familiar accent in the seat behind me.
I took a mild risk and turned around. "Pardon me, but you ladies wouldn't be from Kenya, would you?"
They replied with a surprised, "Yes, how did you know?"
I pressed it further. "Perhaps Kikuyu?"
They were indeed pleasantly shocked. Here was an American white guy who identified not only their country but also their tribe thousands of miles from their home.
It was an interesting two years. I regret that I have not made it back for a visit.
- John Waelti's column appears every Friday in the Times. He can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net.
