Today was the first day of the workshop in Nairobi. Theoretically is should have been the same as the workshop that I did in Harare…I am still piloting the same material, but what a difference. The people in Zimbabwe were really easy to work with- enthusiastic, curious and energetic. This group really used up a lot of my energy this morning…getting them to participate was like pulling hens’ teeth. Only about half of them had appeared by the official start time, more trickled in as the morning wore on, and some never appeared. Oh well — it’s like that some time. By lunch time, they had pretty much succumbed to my will (or my charm, or my zillion years of doing this work) and most of them were participating. It’s been hard to convince them that there is no right answer though.
Breakfast and lunch here have been a pleasant choice from Ghana. Lots of choice, lots of fresh fruit, and the waiters don’t stare at you if you ask for something. A couple of the people in the workshop are entertaining and fun to talk to, and we got through the day.
My reward for working so hard was dinner with my friend Normand, a French Canadian who lives here. He’s a real foodie, and he always chooses great restaurants. Tonight is was a seafood restaurant and I got to try fresh sardines for the first time. I was expecting some little tiny fish, but these were about 8 inch long … two of them on a pile of salad was the starter, but I’ve actually caught trout smaller than they were. I also wasn’t expecting to see them smiling at me from the plate. The restaurant was quite dim – the good news was that I couldn’t see the expressions on their faces very clearly; the bad news is that it’s difficult to bone and take apart a fish that you can barely see. It was delicious though, but I was full before the next course appeared.
On the way to the restaurant, we drove through a part of Nairobi that I have never seen before. It is a neighbourhood called Lavington, definitely on the right side of the tracks. Large and gracious houses set well back from the road, with large gardens. The houses look quite old, and apparently many of them date back to the 1920s. The neighbourhood is still sometimes called by its old name, St Austin’s, named in honour of St Austin’s Mission established by the French Holy Ghost Fathers. I had never heard of St Austin, but it turns out that he is actually St Augustine…Austin is the name his parents gave him when he was born. I also didn’t know who the Holy Ghost Fathers were/are. Turns out they are also known as Spiritans and have been the large group of Catholic missionaries in Africa. They are actually famous for buying large numbers of slaves in and around Zanzibar and setting them free.
Actually, what I wanted to say was that driving through Lavington reminded me that most cities are very pleasant to live in…if you are rich.