Visiting in Lamu
Julie and Joseph invite Ed and I to their place for dinner. They put on quite a spread with prawn sauce over rice and grilled crab legs. Yum. Joseph is an expert at making fresh fruit juice. We sit on a mattress in the floor and eat, surrounded by maps and books, feeling rather bohemian. Their apartment is on the second floor of an older building, a block or two from the waterfront, and consists of an open courtyard area, bedroom, bath, office space and kitchen. Joseph likes Neil Diamond so he puts on a CD until Julie can't stand it any more. Julie and Ed, both from the UK, have a long conversation about music and what bands/albums they have in their collection. I'm happy to eat the delicious knuckles of the crab and enjoy the space and company.
Julie has a friend from the states who lives nearby. Her name is Heidi, though she Islamicized her name to Heidija when she married a Mulsim man in 2001. After dinner, and after washing dishes, the four of us walk over to Heidi's house. She's just returned from Mombasa on a shopping excursion for the store she and her husband operate in Lamu. A freezer stands in the middle of the kitchen area, complete with packing bands. They are putting away produce and tell us to go to the second floor and have a seat. The house is typical of Lamu homes. It is walled in from the street and has a central area open to the sky. Around this central space are built rooms, usually long and narrow. The kitchen is on the bottom floor and when we reach the second floor, we see children sleeping on mattresses at the far end. This is their "bedroom." We sit near the children on mattresses on the floor as Heidija gives medicine to a child who has malaria.
Heidija is from Washington, D.C., though she lived in Atlanta while working on her master's at Emory. We talk about Atlanta for a while then her husband joins us. His named sounds like "Bernard," but I'm not sure. The children are his from a previous marriage. As we talk, Heidija, Bernard and Joseph chew miraa and smoke cigarettes. Miraa is a stimulant that's chewed with bubble gum. Julie smokes cigarettes.
Having planned to stay only a few minutes, because it's late and they're tending to a sick child, we end up staying for two hours, sitting on the floor and discussing tribal customs. Heidija studied African history and knows a great deal about the Luos, who populate Lake Victoria's surrounds. She lived in the Mt. Kenya area for 12 years. There are 42 tribes in Kenya, each with its own language and customs, and we compare their traditions and rituals.
Heidija and Julie exchange news of Lamu. It's such a small town, everyone knows everyone else and what they're all up to. Heidija says a man came to their shop last night, dressed in a red buibui with his face covered. She laughs, recalling the sight of his beard peeking through. He was on his way to crash the Ladies Only Night at the movie theater. Heidija told him he needed to add breasts to his costume or he'd never make it in. He tried, he said, but they simply fell out. Lamu is extremely conservative. Though there is an enclave of young men who dabble in homosexuality and hang around Shela beach, the streets of Lamu will not tolerate such. One gay couple who tried to marry in Lamu were attacked and had to be escorted out of town protected by police.
But it's late, nearly midnight, and we should go. What a treat to visit with Heidija and her husband. We pass through the narrow, dark streets, not able to see the "road" but trusting Julie when she says there are no drain breaks until the next block. She knows these streets by heart. We part at an intersection, Julie and Joseph going home and Ed and I turning toward the Yumbe House. We leave at 6am tomorrow and won't see them again. Goodbyes are hard, especially in darkened, tiny intersections.
Julie has a friend from the states who lives nearby. Her name is Heidi, though she Islamicized her name to Heidija when she married a Mulsim man in 2001. After dinner, and after washing dishes, the four of us walk over to Heidi's house. She's just returned from Mombasa on a shopping excursion for the store she and her husband operate in Lamu. A freezer stands in the middle of the kitchen area, complete with packing bands. They are putting away produce and tell us to go to the second floor and have a seat. The house is typical of Lamu homes. It is walled in from the street and has a central area open to the sky. Around this central space are built rooms, usually long and narrow. The kitchen is on the bottom floor and when we reach the second floor, we see children sleeping on mattresses at the far end. This is their "bedroom." We sit near the children on mattresses on the floor as Heidija gives medicine to a child who has malaria.
Heidija is from Washington, D.C., though she lived in Atlanta while working on her master's at Emory. We talk about Atlanta for a while then her husband joins us. His named sounds like "Bernard," but I'm not sure. The children are his from a previous marriage. As we talk, Heidija, Bernard and Joseph chew miraa and smoke cigarettes. Miraa is a stimulant that's chewed with bubble gum. Julie smokes cigarettes.
Having planned to stay only a few minutes, because it's late and they're tending to a sick child, we end up staying for two hours, sitting on the floor and discussing tribal customs. Heidija studied African history and knows a great deal about the Luos, who populate Lake Victoria's surrounds. She lived in the Mt. Kenya area for 12 years. There are 42 tribes in Kenya, each with its own language and customs, and we compare their traditions and rituals.
Heidija and Julie exchange news of Lamu. It's such a small town, everyone knows everyone else and what they're all up to. Heidija says a man came to their shop last night, dressed in a red buibui with his face covered. She laughs, recalling the sight of his beard peeking through. He was on his way to crash the Ladies Only Night at the movie theater. Heidija told him he needed to add breasts to his costume or he'd never make it in. He tried, he said, but they simply fell out. Lamu is extremely conservative. Though there is an enclave of young men who dabble in homosexuality and hang around Shela beach, the streets of Lamu will not tolerate such. One gay couple who tried to marry in Lamu were attacked and had to be escorted out of town protected by police.
But it's late, nearly midnight, and we should go. What a treat to visit with Heidija and her husband. We pass through the narrow, dark streets, not able to see the "road" but trusting Julie when she says there are no drain breaks until the next block. She knows these streets by heart. We part at an intersection, Julie and Joseph going home and Ed and I turning toward the Yumbe House. We leave at 6am tomorrow and won't see them again. Goodbyes are hard, especially in darkened, tiny intersections.
posted by Cindi at 12:15 AM
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