Back from the Coast
We left Mombasa on a bus last night at 6pm and roll into Kisumu this morning at 8:15. 14 hours on a bus, mostly in the dark, passing deserted African landscapes. Before the 14 hour trip, we take a six-hour bus ride from Lamu to Mombasa. Before that, we catch a 6:15am ferry from the Lamu dock to the mainland (a 20 minute boat ride). It wasn't a ferry, really, just an old wooden dhow covered with men, young and old, and women wearing buibui, their head-to-toe covering, and luggage.
Ahhhh, The Coast.
It seems like a different country, and for good reason. Throughout the 16th, 17th and 18th centuries, the British, Portuguese and Arabs were fighting to control the coast, from Zanzibar to Lamu, and they took turns dominating the region. Even when an Arab Sultanate in Zanzibar was ruling the coasts of present day Tanzania and Kenya, the British still handled administration of the coastal towns. It wasn't until 1963, when Kenya gained independence from the British, that the coast became an official part of Kenya. All those influences have created a laid-back, tantalizing atmosphere.
Here's why the coast seems so different from the rest of Kenya, apart from the beaches. The Muslim influence is palpable. Younger women wear the buibui, usually black, which flows from their head to the ground. Full purdah, which covers everything but the eyes, is becoming increasingly common and we see a lot of it, especially in Lamu. Older women wear wraps around their waists called kangas. These are brightly colored pieces of cloth with bold patterns and a Kiswahili proverb printed on the lower edge. The proverbs say things like, "Blood is thicker than water." All Muslim women keep their heads covered. The trend these days is for women of status to remain sequestered. The more elevated the women's status in society, the less she does. For instance, she'd never leave the house to go to the market. Instead, servants do the marketing, the cooking, the cleaning. As long as staying out of the public eye is seen as "fashionable," coastal women will continue to be kept in the home or covered, purdah-style, when they go out.
The men of Lamu wear the traditional full-length white robes known as Khanzus and the kofia caps, which fit snugly over the tops of their heads. Most kofia are white and embroidered with silver and gold thread. Even in Kisumu, we see women in purdah and men in the long robes and caps. Just not as often as they're seen in Lamu and Mombasa.
Mosques are everywhere; in rural communities, tucked into tiny town squares, and in the cities on nearly every street corner. Lamu alone has 26 mosques in a total land area of less than two square miles. Women are not allowed into the mosques of Lamu, though one mosque does permit women. The women's quarters are on the second floor of this mosque with a separate entrance. But only Muslim women can enter. Non-Muslim women like me are not allowed. A male non-Muslim tourist could enter, but he'd have to wear a long, white robe. The mosques in Shela, however, the community next to Lamu, will allow non-Muslim women to enter.
Mombasa and Lamu are conservative cities. Guide books and local postings remind female tourists to keep their bodies covered. Upon first arriving in Mombasa, I wear shorts and a tank top and do not notice men looking. Coming back through Mombasa on the way home, I wear a long sleeve shirt and a wrap covering my legs. When fully covered thusly, the men look. They actually leer. When I look into their faces, their eyes are busy traversing the length of my covered body. Very strange. I felt more "invisible" when uncovered.
Fresh fruit is abundant and squeezed on site for the most deliciously refreshing drinks, especially when the juices are slightly frozen and served with ice slivers. Mango, Papaya, Pineapple, Lime, Orange, Passion. The fruits fill handcarts on sidewalks and fruit stands throughout the cities and along the coastal highway. Coconuts are also plentiful. Street vendors shave off the rough exterior and slice the natural container open so the milk is consumed fresh. Be careful, the coconut may be under pressure and might spray it's nearly-clear elixir upon opening. The vendor provides a straw for drinking and a piece of coconut shell for scraping out the tender meat. Every coastal museum has an Mbuzi, a two-piece seat carved from one piece of wood that sits about 5 inches above the ground. On the front of the seat, a two-inch wide blade extends about five inches. Someone sits on the chair and uses the blade to scrape the meat out of the coconut and into a bowl. Once the meat is collected, it's put into a cylinder-shaped woven "basket," called a kifumbu, that's then twisted, squeezing the coconut "milk" through the weaving and into a container.
Seafood, naturally, is plentiful. In addition to Swahili-style food, coastal dishes have a distinctly Indian taste. Colorfully packaged spices from the Middle East and Asia are available everywhere. Homemade sweets are sold on the street, by the pinch or in paper or plastic bags.
The streets of Old Town Mombasa and Lamu are narrow, more like alleys and walkways than "roads." Donkeys are used to move merchandise in Lamu since the roads are too narrow for cars or even horses. Dhows are a common sight along the coast. They have plied the waters of East Africa for several centuries and are still made by hand of rough-hewn wood.
This 11-day trip to the coast covered approximately 1000 km one way (627 miles if my calculations are correct) and cost 15,400 ksh., or about $230 USD. Of the 10 nights on the road, one was spent on a train, one on a bus, two with Wendy in Mombasa (Ed stayed with Tom in Mombasa) and two nights at Nina's in Malindi. We stayed at a hotel one night in Watamu and three nights in Lamu. Even then, it being low season, we negotiated excellent rates. For instance, in Watamu at the Marijani they typically charge between 2000-3000 ksh per night. We got 800 per person including a full breakfast. That's about $10 USD to stay in a lovely, exotic hotel with tremendous Swahili couches on the verandah! In Lamu, my room was the uppermost part of Yumbe House. It sat, perched, above the rest of the building with a relaxing makuti (terrace with thatched roof) one level below. I shared the room with a bat and didn't mind one bit at 1000 ksh per night, including full breakfast. That's about $12 USD per night to get a view of Manda Island and the Indian Ocean from one side and the mainland from the other.
Another tremendous outcome from the trip, which I'm ever so grateful for, is that Ed and I are still friends!
It's amazing, being able to travel so far to so many beautiful places for only $230, including all transportation (trains, coaches and matatus), food, souvenirs and handouts. Having fellow VSO volunteers to stay with helps keep the costs down (Thank you, thank you, thank you Wendy, Tom, Nina and Julie for your hospitality and time!!!) When I offer to reciprocate by letting them crash with me in Kisumu, they typically say they have no desire to visit Kisumu. I know why. Having a job in Lamu has to be the ultimate volunteer gig, though Julie, who's been there nearly two years now, says it's a tiny town and everyone knows her business. It feels that way in Kisumu, too, sometimes. But we don't have the Indian Ocean pushing it's gorgeous waters into a channel at our feet. We have Lake Victoria, but we can't swim in her because of a disease spread by snails called Bilharzia. We do have handmade Dhows on the lake, just like the coast, showing off their full canvas sails with homemade art.
Back in Kisumu, I'm inspired to travel to surrounding countries, like Uganda and Rwanda and Burundi, and to explore the islands on Lake Victoria, especially Mfangano Island, famous among archaeologists for its prehistoric rock art. For now, it's back to work where I'll day dream about weekend treks to Mt. Elgon and Mt. Kenya and Christmas vacation with my children in the US!
Ahhhh, The Coast.
It seems like a different country, and for good reason. Throughout the 16th, 17th and 18th centuries, the British, Portuguese and Arabs were fighting to control the coast, from Zanzibar to Lamu, and they took turns dominating the region. Even when an Arab Sultanate in Zanzibar was ruling the coasts of present day Tanzania and Kenya, the British still handled administration of the coastal towns. It wasn't until 1963, when Kenya gained independence from the British, that the coast became an official part of Kenya. All those influences have created a laid-back, tantalizing atmosphere.
Here's why the coast seems so different from the rest of Kenya, apart from the beaches. The Muslim influence is palpable. Younger women wear the buibui, usually black, which flows from their head to the ground. Full purdah, which covers everything but the eyes, is becoming increasingly common and we see a lot of it, especially in Lamu. Older women wear wraps around their waists called kangas. These are brightly colored pieces of cloth with bold patterns and a Kiswahili proverb printed on the lower edge. The proverbs say things like, "Blood is thicker than water." All Muslim women keep their heads covered. The trend these days is for women of status to remain sequestered. The more elevated the women's status in society, the less she does. For instance, she'd never leave the house to go to the market. Instead, servants do the marketing, the cooking, the cleaning. As long as staying out of the public eye is seen as "fashionable," coastal women will continue to be kept in the home or covered, purdah-style, when they go out.
The men of Lamu wear the traditional full-length white robes known as Khanzus and the kofia caps, which fit snugly over the tops of their heads. Most kofia are white and embroidered with silver and gold thread. Even in Kisumu, we see women in purdah and men in the long robes and caps. Just not as often as they're seen in Lamu and Mombasa.
Mosques are everywhere; in rural communities, tucked into tiny town squares, and in the cities on nearly every street corner. Lamu alone has 26 mosques in a total land area of less than two square miles. Women are not allowed into the mosques of Lamu, though one mosque does permit women. The women's quarters are on the second floor of this mosque with a separate entrance. But only Muslim women can enter. Non-Muslim women like me are not allowed. A male non-Muslim tourist could enter, but he'd have to wear a long, white robe. The mosques in Shela, however, the community next to Lamu, will allow non-Muslim women to enter.
Mombasa and Lamu are conservative cities. Guide books and local postings remind female tourists to keep their bodies covered. Upon first arriving in Mombasa, I wear shorts and a tank top and do not notice men looking. Coming back through Mombasa on the way home, I wear a long sleeve shirt and a wrap covering my legs. When fully covered thusly, the men look. They actually leer. When I look into their faces, their eyes are busy traversing the length of my covered body. Very strange. I felt more "invisible" when uncovered.
Fresh fruit is abundant and squeezed on site for the most deliciously refreshing drinks, especially when the juices are slightly frozen and served with ice slivers. Mango, Papaya, Pineapple, Lime, Orange, Passion. The fruits fill handcarts on sidewalks and fruit stands throughout the cities and along the coastal highway. Coconuts are also plentiful. Street vendors shave off the rough exterior and slice the natural container open so the milk is consumed fresh. Be careful, the coconut may be under pressure and might spray it's nearly-clear elixir upon opening. The vendor provides a straw for drinking and a piece of coconut shell for scraping out the tender meat. Every coastal museum has an Mbuzi, a two-piece seat carved from one piece of wood that sits about 5 inches above the ground. On the front of the seat, a two-inch wide blade extends about five inches. Someone sits on the chair and uses the blade to scrape the meat out of the coconut and into a bowl. Once the meat is collected, it's put into a cylinder-shaped woven "basket," called a kifumbu, that's then twisted, squeezing the coconut "milk" through the weaving and into a container.
Seafood, naturally, is plentiful. In addition to Swahili-style food, coastal dishes have a distinctly Indian taste. Colorfully packaged spices from the Middle East and Asia are available everywhere. Homemade sweets are sold on the street, by the pinch or in paper or plastic bags.
The streets of Old Town Mombasa and Lamu are narrow, more like alleys and walkways than "roads." Donkeys are used to move merchandise in Lamu since the roads are too narrow for cars or even horses. Dhows are a common sight along the coast. They have plied the waters of East Africa for several centuries and are still made by hand of rough-hewn wood.
This 11-day trip to the coast covered approximately 1000 km one way (627 miles if my calculations are correct) and cost 15,400 ksh., or about $230 USD. Of the 10 nights on the road, one was spent on a train, one on a bus, two with Wendy in Mombasa (Ed stayed with Tom in Mombasa) and two nights at Nina's in Malindi. We stayed at a hotel one night in Watamu and three nights in Lamu. Even then, it being low season, we negotiated excellent rates. For instance, in Watamu at the Marijani they typically charge between 2000-3000 ksh per night. We got 800 per person including a full breakfast. That's about $10 USD to stay in a lovely, exotic hotel with tremendous Swahili couches on the verandah! In Lamu, my room was the uppermost part of Yumbe House. It sat, perched, above the rest of the building with a relaxing makuti (terrace with thatched roof) one level below. I shared the room with a bat and didn't mind one bit at 1000 ksh per night, including full breakfast. That's about $12 USD per night to get a view of Manda Island and the Indian Ocean from one side and the mainland from the other.
Another tremendous outcome from the trip, which I'm ever so grateful for, is that Ed and I are still friends!
It's amazing, being able to travel so far to so many beautiful places for only $230, including all transportation (trains, coaches and matatus), food, souvenirs and handouts. Having fellow VSO volunteers to stay with helps keep the costs down (Thank you, thank you, thank you Wendy, Tom, Nina and Julie for your hospitality and time!!!) When I offer to reciprocate by letting them crash with me in Kisumu, they typically say they have no desire to visit Kisumu. I know why. Having a job in Lamu has to be the ultimate volunteer gig, though Julie, who's been there nearly two years now, says it's a tiny town and everyone knows her business. It feels that way in Kisumu, too, sometimes. But we don't have the Indian Ocean pushing it's gorgeous waters into a channel at our feet. We have Lake Victoria, but we can't swim in her because of a disease spread by snails called Bilharzia. We do have handmade Dhows on the lake, just like the coast, showing off their full canvas sails with homemade art.
Back in Kisumu, I'm inspired to travel to surrounding countries, like Uganda and Rwanda and Burundi, and to explore the islands on Lake Victoria, especially Mfangano Island, famous among archaeologists for its prehistoric rock art. For now, it's back to work where I'll day dream about weekend treks to Mt. Elgon and Mt. Kenya and Christmas vacation with my children in the US!
posted by Cindi at 7:25 PM
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