02JUN2007 "Nairobi treats - baby elephants & African jazz"

Saturday we went to the David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust, which is a small private wildlife preserve carved out of the Nairobi National Park. They rehabilitate and re-release orphaned elephants and rhinos. They only allow visitors during one hour of each day. When we arrived, the parking lot was jam-packed with safari mini-buses and there was quite a crowd gathered around the wire perimeter separating the four baby elephants from their admirers. Each elephant was draped in a fleece blanket and followed their trusted keeper around closely. They were very happy to lean on the single strand rope “fence” to have their ears and butts scratched by the paparazzi. We were smitten at first sight. They were incredible. Perfect little elephants in miniature, with giant toenails, cracked skin and curious trunks. They absent-mindedly kicked a soccer ball around with the keepers. Each keeper stays with the baby from the time it is rescued until it is released (including sleeping in their pens, we are told). Elephants are very social and have a tight family structure. They get extremely attached to the parent figures around them and it is too traumatic for them to be separated from the keeper that they have begun to trust, until they are adopted into a new elephant family in the wild.
After we had gawked at the tiny babies for a while (but couldn’t tear our eyes away!), the keepers herded them back towards their stalls and brought out the slightly older crowd. Before they came down the hill, the keepers put out giant bottles of milk in four stations of three bottles each. The elephants made a beeline for their bottles, with no confusion about which station was theirs. Pure efficiency. A keeper held each bottle, except for one elephant who insisted on holding his own bottle in his trunk, and they slurped the milk down. Once finished, they quickly looked for the soccer ball and kicked it around while carefully peeling the bark from some branches and taking sips of water. They mostly used their hind legs to kick the ball even though I am sure they couldn’t see the ball at all. They thrilled and scared the onlookers when they backed into the fence or tried to explore the crowd with their trunk. We were so enthralled we couldn’t come unglued until they disappeared up the hill to their enclosures.

Afterwards, we went to a mall downtown for lunch. It was an outdoor USA-style strip mall. We ate at Java House, a local Nairobi chain that roasts coffee and sells starbucks-style drinks. Patrick ordered the Philly cheesesteak and a mocha milkshake. I ordered a quesadilla and a cappuccino to take away. Afterwards, we decided to check out the mall. Within seconds, Patrick’s eyes had glazed over with his “I hate malls” look and he began to wander disinterestedly. We could have been in suburban New Jersey! I was thoroughly enjoying my cappuccino but as long as it was in a to-go cup, I was happy to leave.

We decided to check out a free open-air concert that we had read about online. On Saturday afternoon, they were hosting an afro-jazz concert at the arboretum featuring Eric Wainaina and Hugh Masekela. The concert was in a beautiful grove of trees out of sight of the skyscrapers and there were acrobats wandering around on stilts and face painters for the kids. The crowd was a dynamic mix of locals and ex-pats and many mixed couples and families. The vibe was perfect—enough energy for cheering and dancing and enough chill for wine and picnics and kids running around. The music was really fun and Patrick and I quickly made our way to the middle of the crowd, dancing and taking in the spectacle. In the middle of a song, we heard Eric Wainaina say “blah blah blahblabla wazungu”. Then everyone laughed, those in our vicinity turned and stared at us, and then the entire crowd launched into this funny herky-jerky elbowy dance. We laughed along with everyone (what else could we do?) but felt a little self-conscious dancing after that. Our best guess is that he told everyone to dance like a white person…
Hugh Masekela and his band were as good at entertaining as they were at performing. The energy of the crowd was perfect, although it was now dark and all the families had gone home so it was a little more intense. People were completely engrossed in the music and the message and what it means to be African at this time in history. Masekela’s tribute to all those people who have died doing manual labor really resonated with them in a way that it might have in the US 100 years ago.

At the concert, we met up with Beth and Naeem, a couple that Patrick had met at the palm wood conference. They invited us to join them and some other friends for dinner. We went to Camille’s house, a roomy two bedroom flat that felt very European and middle class, neither of which exists in Kilifi. The crowd was a mix of World Bank economists, education specialists from the Dutch embassy, furniture designers and a yoga instructor. It was fun to be in such a non-KEMRI crowd, partly because it was interesting to hear about other people and partly because it was novel to be an anomaly! The homemade food was brilliant. I gorged myself on olives and gorgonzola and barely had room for the grilled lamb and chicken kebabs.