My first impression of Nairobi was that I had returned to the 60s. The grey dirty looking concrete buildings next to brightly coloured skyscrapers; old fashioned cars driven by men dressed in brown suits; women wearing their hair up high in buns; children running around in patterned clothes. The cloud of pollution and the taxis with white stripes added to the impression. It felt as if I was travelling back in time.
The second impression was that Nairobi was smaller than I had expected. The city centre itself was surprisingly compact and small area-wise. There were markets, shops, western style cafes, restaurants and bars that filled a dozen blocks. Due to its small-ish size, the city centre was crowded. The first piece of advice I received was to be careful with my possessions in the crowd- apparently the poverty in the country had increased crime and pick pocketing.
For me, it felt slightly odd to be in a place where the majority of the people were black. I have never blonder and whiter in my life. The presence of some Asians made all the difference to the scene. Once in a while one would run into another white, which sort of like a relief that you were not the only odd one out. This is the second time, the first time having been in Pakistan, that I could easily imagine how it was to stand out and be discriminated against purely by your looks.
Once you spend a little bit of time in Nairobi, the city grows on you. You get to know the nice shop owners and their cozy little businesses. You know the cafes where you can enjoy excellent African food with good company provided by the staff working there. You learnt he western style cafes that tend to be filled with tourists and businessmen visiting Nairobi. You learn to navigate yourself through the crowded cities without getting hit by mataatos, the local mini buses that can take you cheaply to any destination outside of Nairobi.
Nairobi is a relatively new city. It started to grow when more businesses started to move there. The Governmental buildings and the main hospitals of the country are located there. My Kenyan colleague told me that all Kenyans are from rural areas. Generally, each family has a piece of land somewhere in a rural part of the country. This place is what they call their home. Most people have to live and work in cities, because that is where the jobs are, but whenever they have at least three days off from work, they travel to their home.
As soon as you leave the city centre, the scenery changes rapidly. The narrow concrete streets turn into sandy roads. The high buildings are replaced by greenery and farm houses. As you drive along, you can see people walking by the high ways; many cannot afford their own transportation or even the public one so their only option is to walk or run from place to place - at times you can find people walking and running miles and miles on end in order to reach their destination. It is every day life for school children to run for two hours in order to reach school and then run back home for two hours at the end of the school day.
Right outside the city centre, one can see the famous slums of Nairobi. The spread out from close by the city centre. It is not advisable for foreigners to go there and so I an only take a peak from the car as we drive past. The huts made with cardboard and clothes look like the wind could bow them a way in a second. Dozens of kids are running around; there are chickens jumping around with the children and dogs walking around without a destination. Next to the slums, there re markets where people are trying to make a living by selling their produce and handicrafts. Loud voices are bargaining over the prices of the produce. Even louder music is filtering out from small stalls and cars driving past. Reggae and gospel music seem to touch the souls of these people.
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