T.I.A "This is Africa"

This last week or so has been a bit of a non-event. After being based on the mainland for 3 weeks, complete with mains electricity, running water and sit down toilets (albeit the water is brackish), we were actually looking forward to getting back onto the island. That said the fact that we were on here for 3 weeks now might get a bit testy at times. Add into that the situation that the island base is now full to almost capacity with 30 of us, both staff and volunteers and it does make for an ‘interesting social experiment’. Nevertheless we were still looking forward to it…sorry, back to the non-event I mentioned earlier (honestly I must digress more than Ronnie Corbett at times (joke for the oldies there)).

So, aside from being back on the island, we were also back for a week of Marine, which is a week of boat trips counting dolphins and snorkelling ….Oh come on! It’s not all fun you know ;)

Aaaaaanyway, last Saturday I got another dose of dodgy stomach. Monday, we were given the day to do our BTEC work, we’re both getting a BTEC in Biological Surveying Techniques (counting dolphins and monkeys) as part of our expedition, whilst the rest of the Marine team were getting their introductory training . Tuesday, annoyingly, Kate and I were then rota’d to be on base, 2 people each day have to do this. So finally Wednesday rolls around and it’s our turn to be out on the boat at last. Unfortunately, the other thing still rolling is my stomach. So with the average day on Marine consisting of being out on a boat from 7am to 3pm, I’m understandably reticent about committing myself to an all day boat trip with no loo. Needless to say the group come back with stories of record numbers of dolphins seen in 1 day (more than 30). Finally, Thursday comes around and I’m back on form so it’s off out on the boat. Both Thursday and Friday were great days with sightings of bottlenose and humpback on each day respectively. The Friday sighting of humpbacks was particularly spectacular as a group of around 12 of these “shy and hard to spot” creatures literally cavorted around our bow for about half an hour with one baby being nothing less than our own personal Flipper it put on such a show.

But I digress again, this week was intended to be more about where we are and the country around us, the place we have come to visit and how it makes us feel. I’ve talked a lot about our experiences , but not so much about Africa, Kenya, Shimoni and how it all is and what it’s like.

This entry was titled “T.I.A.”, meaning “This is Africa”, a phrase I heard within a week of getting here, and one I’ve come to learn at the cost of frustration and huge annoyance at times, but also which has slowed me down from the London pace I’ve lived for the last 15 or more years. “T.I.A.” is the acronym you’ll hear when something turns up late, fails to turn up at all, breaks down, doesn’t happen, fails to materialise or for whatever myriad of reasons is just downright bloody exasperating. Africa is fundamentally very different to Europe (duh you might say of course it is but you don’t really understand this until you get here and it’s hard to describe but I’ll try). T.I.A. is about the best way so far I’ve come across of summing it up. It explains everything from government corruption right down to your matatu stopping halfway through the journey it’s supposed to make and which you’ve paid for and announcing it’s going no further!.

A classic example of this was last Saturday when we left Ukunda, the nearest large town, by matatu for a journey which usually takes about 1 hour 15 minutes back to Shimoni, the small mainland town near our island. Let me explain about matatus. They’re small minivans with seating for 15 people, including the driver. They are the transport backbone of the developing world. In their many shapes and sizes and forms they move the population of most of the almost modern world ….EVERYWHERE! In Africa they follow this minivan 15 seat format, other places have their own regional variations like the ornately decorated bus style vehicles of India and Thailand. The matatus have a driver (usually half asleep unless he’s busy talking on his mobile, who might sometimes concentrate on driving) and a conductor (more a hassler, harrier, hawker, DelBoy-esque character who extorts and exhorts, calls and crys, bargains and barters for passengers, cargo, prices and so forth. So with 2 occupants on board that means 13 passengers right? Wrong!!!! So far recorded by yours truly we had a total of 22 people on board at one time, although I use the phrase “on-board” loosely as the conductor and 2 passengers were all hanging out of the side sliding door at the time. Hearsay suggests highest recorded figures are round 26 [since the time of first writing this some friends have just returned from a journey with 30 people on board]. But, back to last weekend, we boarded our matuat in Ukunda at just before 5pm having been told that the last one back to Shimoni was 5.30 most evenings. Amazingly, there were only 8 of us on it as it pulled off (roughly ontime) and even though they stop at irregular intervals we had vague hopes that it might actually be a quiet spacious journey…….oh what foolish and naïve little things we were. Anyway, we pull up at the next stop about 20 minutes down the road near a busy village junction. A small wizened chap climbs hesitantly on board and has a brief word with Delboy, our characterful conductor and after a few protestations from our fellow passengers, our conductor then addresses Kate and I as the only resident “mazungus” (white folk) in his broken but still charmingly understandable English. A 5 minute detour is needed to pick something up for the old chap, are we ok with this? Yes, fine we agree cheerfully, anything to oblige this benignly smiling wee fellah with the wrinkly face. No doubt it’s his walking stick which he left at home , or perhaps his little wife who isn’t so mobile these days and can’t manage the walk through the village to the main road….how sweet.

We pull down a side road and after a few bumps and turns we pull up outside a small shack surrounded by the HUGEST pile of coconuts I’ve ever seen in my life, I mean they were bigger then the house itself for goodness sake. It soon becomes clear there is no forgotten walking stick…no little wife awaiting her ride…oh no…only more coconuts in sacks about the size and indeed weight of a small cow…or large goat for that matter, take your pick.

Cue everyone but Kate and I being asked to disembark, but not us when we try and get off….they don’t want us to move and certainly don’t want to inconvenience us (I kid you not). There follows 45 minutes of what I can only describe as the Marx Brothers at their best as the driver, conductor and aforementioned little old wizened chappie push pull squeeze cram and squash not 1, not 2 not even 3 sacks of these coconuts on board but 9….yes 9 sacks, in the back boot space, through the rear windows, in the drivers door over into the back and finally a few small sacks under the seats for good measure…meh who needs legroom anyway!

We reload with our missing passengers, plus our little old man, his son and 2 granddaughters and proceed back to the junction….to pick up a few more passengers just in case there was any chance that there were a few cubic inches not being properly utilised. And as we resume our journey to Shimoni at top speeds of about 35kph it’s clear we’re not breaking any land speed records here. The final 15kms is on dirt road and very bumpy. By now it’s dark and I’m rather tiring somewhat of the old man sitting half on my lap, wizened smile notwithstanding! We’re proceeding at barely above walking pace by now and after a total journey time of just 2 hours and 45 minutes, we finally pull into Shimoni and complete our epic journey of less than 40kms. As Kate and I extricate ourselves from our seats and try to disembark with more than a few cramped muscles we cannot help but smile at the sheer ludicrousness of it all, helped by our fellow passengers grins and handshakes, who’ve taken great delight in the fact that 2 crazy mazungus have been a part of this little everyday African adventure of theirs.

T.I.A sums up the delays, frustrations, the lethargy and corruption of everything that maddens you about this place, this country, this continent. Sometimes you just wish for something to run right like it does back home (and believe me London is a Swiss clock compared to here), to be on time and efficient. But if it did, this wouldn’t be Africa and we wouldn’t enjoy the flipside of T.I.A which is the wonderfully relaxed way that things are done and the casual acceptance of lifes shortcomings and privations with a simple shrug and a rueful smile.

So until next time, when some small irritation or delay annoys the hell out of you, take a deep breath, shrug your shoulders, smile and think “T.I.A.”