Relocate, part II

Best laid plans… I figured I would be kicking around Holland for a while, but opportunity knocked and here I am now in Dubai.

I’m working a much less dangerous (and better paying) gig now, where there is minimal risk of being murdered by gangsters or melted by boiling lava or whatever. Swimming with the sharks now has more to do with wearing shoes that make my feet bleed than anything else.

Going from East Africa to the Netherlands to Dubai has been a trip. This city is shiny and sharp, an oasis of towering skyscrapers in the middle of a desert wasteland, home to the world’s largest malls and the Middle East’s only indoor ski hill, among many other opulent absurdities. Fast food restaurants at the Dubai Mall have waiters and cloth napkins.

It is the Middle East and it isn’t, according to everyone I’ve met in the past couple weeks. It is the most modern and progressive of the Emirates, but also willing to jail a couple of expats for going way too far in a taxi. (Although to be fair, they probably would have been thrown in jail if they’d tried that in North America. This is why we don’t get blackout at 11 am.) Common-law relationships are also illegal here, which is a downer for many. Ahem.

I haven’t been here long enough, but from what I’ve seen: Dubai is all about money and image, three-piece suits and fast cars and $30 cocktails and five-star everything. The Emirate was hit hard by the global financial crisis in 2009, but appears to be rebounding now. Coming to this city with a background in being a broke-ass freelancer is a little boggling. But interesting of course, and notable because it’s my first time living in the Middle East.

Also, today is National Day, so everyone is going bananas with the red, black, green and white pride. I caught these guys putting on a show in the Business Village, and it was adorable:

Relocate

Martini Tower. Sadly, there are no martinis inside.

So after eight months of insanity in Kenya, followed by a delightful summer vacation in Ottawa (many people got married), I find myself in Europe once again.

This time it’s a city called Groningen, in a province called Groningen, in the Netherlands. Which is basically the last place I ever expected to find myself, but life is funny sometimes.

As we can see from Vice’s newest phenom, Cat Marnell, writing too much over-sharing, first-person, me-me-me stuff tends to be frowned upon basically everywhere. But I will say that, as predicted in my own over-sharing, first-person, me-me-me article, I wound up crossing paths with that ex of mine, and we moved here together.

He is doing his PhD, and I am wandering around marveling at the adorable quaintness of Holland.

What to say about this place? It’s not Kenya. There is plenty of quality cheese. The language is somewhat confusing and (sorry, potential Dutch employers) painfully funny at times (example: winkelwagen means shopping cart. When you consider that w’s are pronounced as v’s, it only increases the hilarity.) The people are extremely polite, helpful, and of course, multi-lingual.

I still miss the hot, crazy Nairobi nights, or chasing stories down in Congo or Lamu or Zanzibar. My fellow freelancers have pointed out that I went from being interviewed by the BBC to … what was it again? Becoming a PhD housewife (thanks for that by the way, you know who you are.) But there is something to be said for stability.

Europe is an interesting spot right now as well. Elections happened here yesterday, and Holland’s far-right Freedom Party got stomped out, which proves the Dutch remain committed to tolerance and stability. The weed cafes might still be open to foreigners, if Labour has anything to say about it. And if Greece doesn’t get sorted soon, the apocalypse will likely be triggered.

I’m not saying I will never return to Kenya to get back in the freelancing game. But right now the frites and mayonnaise are treating me just fine. More to come. In the mean time, I give you the quack huis.

They built these things for the ducks and geese which are roaming about, wreaking havoc in my otherwise peaceful neighbourhood. Bizarre.

Tagged, you’re it. And more grenades.

Time flies when you’re having fun. Looks like it’s almost time to ramble on out of Kenya. My fellowship wraps up at the end of the month and I’ll likely be back in the motherland in early April.

As a journalist, it’s hard to leave a place knowing I will most certainly miss the next big story … And knowing I won’t see my byline floating around anywhere for a while. Agh, my ego.

And speaking of big stories, cheers to whatever asshole(s) decided it would be a good idea to lob four grenades into a Nairobi bus station Saturday night. Seven people died and over 50 were injured. Everyone is waiting for Somalia’s al-Shabaab Islamist militants to step forward and claim responsibility. The police have also arrested four local men in connection with the attack, although details remain extremely scant.

I was out in Umoja today, a fairly typical Kenyan neighbourhood where the four alleged bombers were arrested. According to police, they were caught in the middle of trying to hurriedly shift flats on Sunday night. We stopped by to visit the scene of the arrest.

This is where it all went down. You can still see boxes and empty jugs piled up inside, but not much is known about what actually happened–the police won’t even say where the suspects are being held right now. We did manage to find one suspect’s sister.

Florence Otieno Odhiambo’s brother, Sylvester Owinho, was one of the guys arrested in Umoja Sunday night. Odhiambo insisted that this is a case of police harassment, and that her brother is innocent… despite the fact that it is sort of rare to just spontaneously shift flats in the middle of the month.

The fact that police aren’t giving any information about these four is a little worriesome. Another journalist I spoke to told me there are two kinds of suspects in Kenya–the ones who get arrested so that they can go to court, and the ones who get arrested so that they never make it to trial. If you catch what I am saying. Eep.

And in further “people at risk of police retribution” news, we have Kenyan graffiti artists. This was one of those accidentally-stumbled-upon stories. I was at a bar with my buddy Andre a few weeks ago, where I met a pair of vagabond spray painters. The two of them had been busy painting some pretty intense murals in the Kibera slums, and told me there was some big project coming up downtown, which turned out to be this:

You wouldn’t think a piece of graffiti would stir up so much controversy, but what went up on the wall of the city market was something Kenya hasn’t seen like… ever. Bold statements such as:

are still seen as dangerously provocative, and the artists involved in this story wound up being pretty nervous about revealing any details of their identities or activities, after the mural made major waves in the Nairobi. Makes sense I suppose, given that there are plans to paint another 49 pieces like this across the country in the run-up to the elections. I’m already seeing more pieces springing up around downtown Nairobi, and these dudes are doing a good job flying under the radar, sooo … no more details about who did what that night. Best to play it safe sometimes, right?

Bringing me to my point here, which is that there are good and bad ways to shake things up. I’m hoping my departure will be a good one. I could make a big sad list of all the things I’m going to miss about Nairobi, but moving back to Canada is something I’m really looking forward to.  Too bad it is impossible to be in two places at the same time.

Life’s a beach

Apologies for the terrible pun.

I’ve been wandering a lot of beaches the past little while, after spending a week on Zanzibar, a pretty little island off the coast of Tanzania.

I was there to cover Sauti za Busara, the largest music festival in East Africa. It was oh so hot and humid out there, but the festival was a ton of fun and I got to see Nneka, who is my new favourite artist, check this out.

This was definitely one of the best shows I’ve ever seen, like it brought tears to my eyes, which is lame I know, but also awesome.

I also saw an exploding boat! Woo!

Relax, nobody died.

2012 so far

Did not do the best job keeping this thing updated in January.

Okay, but it’s been an interesting time to be in Kenya in the new year, and I’ve been pretty busy, on account of war crimes.

The International Criminal Court just made its decision on whether to proceed with a war crimes trial against six politicians thought to have masterminded the 2007/2008 postelection violence, which left 1,100 dead and thousands more homeless, injured or raped.

The ICC made a historic move in that it actually went ahead and confirmed charges against four of the so-called Ocampo Six. Two of these guys, Eldoret North MP William Ruto and Deputy Prime Minister Uhuru Kenyatta, are running for president this year.

I headed to Eldoret where, four years ago, chaos reigned. I had a chance to visit an IDP camp still standing after four years, a graveyard where a New Year’s Day church burning killed about 50 people, and an NGO director who’s been trying to protect witnesses since the government, so far, has not.

Of course, the two presidential aspirants have vowed not to step down from their campaigns, meaning there are actually two accused war criminals who hope to soon be the leader of this country. It’s pretty messed up, something you definitely wouldn’t see happening in Canada, and will probably keep things interesting here for the foreseeable future.

Apart from that, I spent most of January finishing up a long-term project looking at organized crime here in Kenya, specifically at members of the Mungiki, Kenya’s most notorious gang/cult. Members of this group are widely believed to be responsible for a lot of the government’s retaliatory attacks during the 2008 postelection violence.

They are not much fun to hang out with–most of our conversations revolved around whether I was secretly an FBI agent, the terrible punishments they hand out to anyone who dares cross them, and pleas for money and understanding since they are so poor and abused. Ugh.

Next up I’ll be headed to Zanzibar to cover a music festival, and working on some agricultural stories here in Nairobi. Will try to stay more on top of this blog.

Ps someone PLEASE get this song out of my head. Damn you M.I.A.

2011 … hell of a year

Everyone is doing their “year in review” thing right now. It was a year of uprisings, villains dying, and financial woe for most.

On my end, 2011 was like… Tale of Two Cities best-and-worst of times. I started the year in Paris, and expected to still be there now, but way leads unto way and now it’s Nairobi.

There have been plenty of shenanigans that I am not going to bother putting on the internet, but I’ve also been able to visit a lot of different places and hang out with some amazing and crazy people. So instead of revealing any damaging details about what’s actually been happening, here are some of my favourite photos from 2011.

Started the year off with a bizarre NYE party in Rennes where, in an instance of epic foreshadowing, the Lion King soundtrack was played on repeat while drunken revelers acted out their favourite animals from the movie. After that it was back to Paris. This is an obligatory Eiffel Tower shot taken during a re-enactment of Flight of the Conchords' "Fou du Fa Fa."

In late January I went to visit my friend Jeremy, who lives in the French mountain village of Quintenas (I might be spelling that wrong.) We explored the Choranche caves, which boast many-a-stalactite/stalagmite, some creepy blind cave lizards, and an enormous projection/audiovisual experience explaining the history of the caves. Apparently dragons once lived here. Feels historically accurate enough.

In February my roommates and I headed to Berlin for the weekend, where we saw the Berlin Wall, the Holocaust Memorial (creepy) and a ton of graffiti. Berlin is super cheap and interesting, and everyone should go there. Just remember, the planes are never late. We missed ours on the way out.

In April I flew to Bologna, Italy to meet up with my friend Nolan, who was studying architecture in a truly beautiful city. There was a lot of really good food (GELATO) and drink (MIMOSAS) involved in this trip, and the photo ops were spectacular. It was also the first time I'd seen real sunlight in about 7 months, which was a bonus.

I spent most of May and June in Canada after grabbing a spot in the AKF Young Professionals in Media fellowship, but for some reason only took a picture of a steak while I was there. They sent me back to Paris to wait for work permits, and I paid a visit to Brighton, England, to visit my old friend Ben. Brighton is a weird British holiday spot, and the gay capital of England/Europe (?) so there were a lot of interesting sights and sounds when the sun went down. Also, the seagulls there are ferocious.

On the other side of the English Channel is St. Remy Aux Bois, which I visited with my friend Liz. The beaches here are made of sand instead of pebbles, and we were hosted by Nick and Judith Gifford, two British expats who now run their own highly-successful jam company. This was the last trip I took in Europe so it was a little bittersweet.

Then I got to Kenya and started writing for the Nation, which has been a thrill ride to say the least. This is a shot I took on Lamu when I was out with the police on pirate patrol. Cpl. Abdi Golompo is an interesting guy who made sure I didn't get kidnapped by anyone while we were out there.

I also got to visit Uganda in September to write on the country's growing tourism industry. This involved a trip with my friends at Kombi Nation, whose driver was keen enough to spot this chameleon on the side of the road near Lake Bunyonyi in the south. Chameleons are the coolest animals.

My last big trip of the year was to Congo to see an exploding volcano. My route there took me through Burundi, Rwanda, back to Kenya after deportation from Rwanda, and then through Uganda for attempt number two. This was without a doubt the hardest trip I ever made, and I think the bus hours to volcano hours ratio was like 48:12 at the end of it. NEVER TAKE KAMPALA COACH ANYWHERE.

Eruption

KABOOM!

I was in the Democratic Republic of Congo a couple weeks ago to check out an exploding volcano, Nyamulagira. I got in the day after the country’s most recent elections, in which incumbent Joseph Kabila has just been declared winner … again.

Of course, the DRC is one of the most corrupt and violent countries on earth, and the Jimmy Carter Centre is already reporting extremely shifty election processes. Behold the group’s most recent statement:

“The Carter Centre finds the provisional presidential election results announced by the Independent National Election Commission on December 9 in the Democratic Republic of the Congo to lack credibility.  Multiple locations… reported impossibly high rates of 99 to 100% voter turnout with all, or nearly all, votes going to incumbent President Joseph Kabila. These and other observations point to mismanagement of the results process and compromise the integrity of the presidential election.”

Kabila’s been in power since 2001 after taking over for his father Laurent, who was assassinated by his own security guards. Etienne Tshisekedi, his long-term opponent, has announced that he is in fact the president of the DRC. As happens in the international media, it would appear reporters in Kinshasa are anxiously awaiting another war to break out.

So far less than a dozen people have been killed, although Human Rights Watch has reported 18 murdered by Kabila’s presidential guard in the run-up to the elections.

The DRC has been written off as a failed state, and is known as the rape capital of the world,  so it’s a major downer to see reports that war might erupt all over again. If you want a rundown of the history there, read this excellent backgrounder by Mark Tran. But basically, the country has been embroiled in civil wars and proxy wars and all kind of terrible conflict for decades.

It’s so easy to write the place off, which is brutal because it is rich in resources, tourism opportunities, and culture. When I was in Congo, what I saw was a bunch of super-friendly people, a country that is much less developed than Kenya, and yes the exploding volcano.

I was shit-scared before I went in there, and expecting to be murdered by armed bandits when I crossed over from Uganda. But the reality is–and I dont want to tempt fate by saying this, but–I don’t think you can make a blanket statement about any one country being too dangerous to visit.

Rumours, hype and hysterical speculation can damage a place just as badly as pockets of conflict. This is not to write off what’s happening in Congo as “pockets of conflict.” But I also don’t think every single area of the country is packed with murderous militias waiting to lay waste to everyone either.

The DRC needs stability and development, and tourism is one way to make that happen, but so many people are afraid of the place that its national parks, themselves victims of the war, are struggling just to stay afloat. Read all about it in this article I wrote for the East African. And good luck to the good people in the DRC. The country is beautiful, the people I met were lovely, I just wish it wasn’t all so prone to blowing up.