African Tour:Amboseli National Park

Four hours south of Nairobi, our first stop was Amboseli National Park. About the size of Denver, Amboseli is pretty small compared to other national parks. Kruger National Park is more than fifty times larger. But Amboseli has something Kruger and Denver never will. Not only is it one of the best places in the world to see a couple thousand elephants in the wild, it also has the best views of Mount Kilimanjaro. The mountain is in Kilimanjaro National Park in Tanzania, but the view from that side looks nothing like the famous view from Amboseli.

Since Mount Kilimanjaro is a volcano, it is flanked by volcanic rock that has been feeding the ample vegetation that feeds all the animals in the area. The ice cap also provides an almost endless supply of fresh water. Lake Amboseli only has water during the rainy season, but the entire park is pretty much a swamp. Animals need not gather at one place to drink, which is much safer for most of them.

I spent four nights at the Ol Tukai Lodge. The main building had a lobby, gift shop, and a large two story restaurant with scenic views from any seat around the outer edge. There were some standard hotel rooms near the main building. I stayed in one of the small cottages on the outskirts of the property. From the cottage patio, I could sit and watch the elephants walk along the fence line. There was an electric fence around the perimeter of the lodge that, while practically invisible, kept out the elephants and most mammals. Except baboons. They do whatever they want to do. The lodge also had a swimming pool that was not all that impressive. I never really had time for a swim anyway. The lodge was not exactly in the middle of the park, but Amboseli was small enough that driving from one end to the other did not take long.

My first day at Amboseli was short since we had to drive in from Nairobi. Edgar drove me to the lodge and helped me check in, which was unnecessary. Everyone who worked at Ol Tukai spoke English. Then he disappeared for a while so I could settle in and have lunch. I never asked him where he went when he was gone. That was none of my business. Right on time, he picked me up and we went out for an afternoon drive.

Like most game parks, mornings and evenings were the best times at Amboseli. Afternoons were best spent taking a break at the lodge. But I had only just arrived. I wanted to experience this new environment. Edgar seemed just as excited to show me everything as I was to see it. Up to this point, I only knew him as a driver. He wanted to show off his animal tracking skills.

Since Amboseli is the premier site to see elephants, it was only appropriate that my first dramatic animal encounter was with an elephant. We were in the van watching a group of gazelles when Edgar noticed two rather large male elephants walking toward our general direction. They were more than a few yards away and we were not directly in their path, but Edgar decided to back the van up a little just to give them plenty of space. As soon as we moved, the elephant in the front turned so that we would be directly in their path. He was not moving quickly or displaying any aggression, but he clearly altered his path on purpose. When Edgar backed up even further, the elephant changed course again. Edgar thought he wanted to show us who was boss. What the elephant never knew was that we had no intention of challenging him. Edgar was prepared to back that van up as far as it took. Wherever we were, that was where he wanted to be. When the giant elephant got close enough to charge us, Edgar simply drove away. As long as we were parked, we would always be in his way. By leaving, we let him know he won.

Finding elephants was easy. They were everywhere. I could look out the window of my cottage and sooner or later a group of elephants would walk past. I wanted to see a leopard. I have no particular interest in leopards, but I saw the rest of the Big Five at Kruger. Edgar's mission was to find me a leopard, though he warned me that afternoon was the worst possible time. We would be more likely to see one the next morning or maybe later that evening.

While we saw no leopards that afternoon, we came across a few prides of lions, a gang of buffalo, a cackle of hyenas, a confusion of wildebeest, a couple coalitions of cheetahs, a few herds of impalas, several towers of giraffes, multiple zeals of zebras, and more elephants than I could count. The predators were mostly napping, so the herbivores used the afternoon lull to go about their business.

Near the beginning of my leopard quest, we were driving around the savannah when Edgar said he might have spotted a leopard lying in the tall grass under a tree on the ridge over in the distance. He pointed and I could barely see the tree. I thought he was just trying to make himself look good. There was no way he could see anything that far away. We drove to the ridge and the tree became more obvious. It was still impossible to see if anything was in the grass. He slowed down when we got close and told me that the leopard must have run away. Yeah, right. The camouflaged leopard that he magically saw lying down just happened to leave right before we got there. Then he pointed out how the grass under the tree was flattened, as if something had been lying there. He also showed me the fresh claw marks on the tree. I got less skeptical pretty quickly. Obviously, something had been there. Maybe not a leopard, but whatever it was, Edgar saw it from a respectable distance.

In addition to his excellent eyesight, Edgar used his phone to keep in contact with other guides throughout the park. They all let each other know where to find something interesting, right after they showed their customers first.

One of the benefits to sleeping in the park was that I could be there before the gates opened in the morning and after they closed at night. We would take full advantage of that on other days, but Edgar thought we should take it easy on the first day. I had flown in from Dar es Salaam, which is not all that far, and we had driven from Nairobi. It was a bit of a long day. He was also mindful of how much and how often my people like to eat. I tried to explain that I do not need three jumbo meals each day, but he knew that I was American. He wanted to make sure I was back at the lodge before they stopped serving dinner.

The Ol Tukai Lodge was also used to dealing with western foreigners. There was always more than enough food for everyone. Though in the heart of East Africa, the menu was more intercontinental than anything else, with nothing too unfamiliar to North Americans and Western Europeans. They had a wide array of alcohol available at the small bar that could be taken or delivered anywhere on the property, and more than a few signs warning guests not to feed the monkeys.

That first night at Amboseli was the first time I really noticed the night sky. I had been in the Southern Hemisphere ever since we landed in Johannesburg, but most of that time was spent in cities. Even at Kruger, we were generally indoors and asleep by the time it got truly dark. After dinner at Amboseli, I sat with a drink on my cottage patio and looked up at the stars. There was little point in looking out to the savannah since it was pitch dark. There were elephants out there. I could hear them. But I could not even see the fence line, let alone all the animals on the other side, The sky was the only thing visible beyond the lodge lights. I have never been much of an expert when it comes to astronomy, but I could always find the Big Dipper. Until this night. There was also no North Star, though the Southern Cross was clear as day. Or night. It occurred to me that I did not even know the names of any Southern Hemisphere constellations. Everything I have ever heard about the constellations has always been about what is visible from the Northern Hemisphere.

Our first full day at Amboseli started early in the morning. That was fine with me. Edgar seemed to be as much of a morning person as I was. Or at least he faked it well when he was on the clock. While driving around, he got a call from one of his guide friends that some lions were hunting a wildebeest. This was exactly the sort of thing you could only see in the early morning and evening hours, and what most visitors wanted to see. I never really understood that part. I was there to see the animals as much as the next person, but I had no particular interest in watching them eat each other. Lions frolicking in nature were always more interesting to me than lions gorging on breakfast.

Edgar rushed us to the hunt site. By the time we got there, the money shot was over. I saw a pride of lions feast on a wildebeest carcass. Edgar was a little confused when I did not take any pictures. Next to a dramatic kill shot, this was what the tourists wanted to see. I told him that I wanted to experience the environment, not any specific event. He suddenly realized that his job just got a lot easier. If only he could find a leopard.

By lunchtime, we were nowhere near the lodge. Edgar gave me two options. He could drive me back to the lodge for lunch, where I could take a break from the afternoon heat, or we could have a bit of a picnic and make it a full day. I was out and about and saw no reason to stop, so we ate lunch under an acacia tree. He kept a cooler in the van, from which we ate yogurt and cheese. He also had a bag of bread and other snacks. The highlight of lunch was an ice cold Pepsi. He had Pepsi in the cooler because I bought myself one when we stopped at a local grocery store on the drive from Nairobi to Amboseli. I am not a big Pepsi fan, but the store's selection was limited. They only had a few drinks and even fewer were chilled. I wanted a cold drink. A bottle of Pepsi was the easiest option. From that moment on, Edgar made sure to keep ice cold Pepsi on hand.

The ice cold part is important. It got a little warm on the savannah in the middle of the day. Several people warned me that it would be hot at Amboseli and all the other game parks during the rainy season. Since it was the rainy season, it might also be a little humid, though it was never going to rain every day. But I live in Taiwan. Kenya humidity is nothing by comparison, and the temperature never went above 30 degrees. The biggest adjustment was how much it dropped at night. In Taiwan, hot days lead to warm nights. In Kenya, cold nights were more than possible.

Photograph by Diana Robinson
As much as I liked Kruger, Amboseli quickly became my favorite national park. Having a professional guide made all the difference, as did sleeping inside the park. After the gates closed, we could still drive around. Spotting animals is far more difficult at night, but the park itself is beautiful during and right after the sun sets. After Edgar went home for the day, the lodge was large enough for a nighttime walk. I have no idea what Kruger sounds like in the middle of the night, but I can tell you that the animals of Amboseli never close. It was almost like camping, only with elephants and lions instead of crickets and owls.

African Tour:Nairobi Again

Jomo Kenyatta International Airport
Nairobi, Kenya
Dar es Salaam was the final leg of our big African Tour. Once finished, we all flew back to Nairobi. From Nairobi, everyone else flew out of Africa and slowly made their way east. I had other plans.

Kruger National Park was great, but it felt unfinished. Driving around on our own, we only saw bits and pieces. I knew right away that a trained professional could have shown us far more. Under most circumstances, I will always choose to go exploring rather than to take a guided tour. Where I live, tour guides spend more time at the gift shops than at whatever everyone is there to see. Most sights will never give a tour guide a percentage of sales. Plenty of nearby shops will.

Kenya has more than its fair share of national parks. It also has hundreds of registered companies that can show you around. Finding the right one probably takes a great deal of research. Unless you meet someone in Cape Town whose cousin is a safari guide licensed by the Kenya Wildlife Service. It only took one phone call for me to know this was the right guy. He knew what he was talking about and did not hesitate to tell me when my plans were unrealistic.

I had a list of places I wanted to see, including the Serengeti, the Maasai Mara, Tsavo East National Park, Amboseli National Park, Mount Kenya, and Lake Victoria. Edgar pointed out that seeing all of those places in one trip would take considerably more time than I had. He explained the travel times, how long I should stay at each place, and what I would see where.

We created a more realistic itinerary: Amboseli, Lake Nakuru, the Massai Mara, and Serengeti. From Nairobi, Amboseli is south, Lake Nakuru is north, the Massai Mara is west, and the Serengeti is southwest. The most logical course would be to drive in a big circle, but you have to take into consideration the best times to visit each park and how crowded they are going to be. Looking at a map, I would say it makes sense to go clockwise from Nairobi. That would make Lake Nakuru the last stop. Wisely, Edgar wanted the Serengeti to be the last park I saw. I also realized after the fact that making Amboseli the first stop was a brilliant move.

Edgar picked me up at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport just after five in the morning. My flight got in extra early because everyone else was taking another flight to Doha. He did not seem to mind the early hour. In fact, most of our time together would be spent earlier in the day rather than later. We were going to national parks. Just like Kruger, they all opened their gates around sunrise and closed at sunset. The difference this time was that I would be sleeping inside the parks. Edgar picked me up in the morning, drove me around all day, and dropped me off in the evening.

When we loaded my bags into his van, I wondered where everyone else was. In general, safari companies like to cram in as many people as possible, unless you pay extra for a private tour. I did not. But I got one anyway. That was my bonus for knowing his cousin. I loved the idea of not being in a crowd, but wondered if this was the kind of thing I should be doing alone. More often than not, I prefer to share life's more interesting experiences with other people. On the other hand, my travel companions at Kruger were kind of a pain in the ass. There are advantages to not wasting time doing something someone else wants to do or following their bathroom schedule. Since this turned out to be a private safari, I could do whatever I wanted, pending Edgar's advice.

I also wondered why we were in a van. I was expecting a jeep. Whenever you see pictures of people on safari, they are in a big, open jeep. Edgar took me everywhere in a white Toyota Hi Ace van. That turned out to be pretty convenient. It had a roof that popped up like a camper van, without the tent, so I could stand and get unobstructed views of everything. I could also stand and sing “Born To Be Wild” while driving through the savannah. Some of the drives between parks were a little long, but as the only passenger in a nine seat van, I had plenty of room to stretch out. The van also had more room than a jeep for my luggage. Unlike most people that Edgar picked up from the airport in Nairobi, I had just come from several other cities in Kenya and South Africa. I left as much of my luggage with the company as I could, but I still had more than I needed.

African Tour:Dar es Salaam

Julius Nyerere International Airport
Dar es Salaam, Tanzania
Before we got to know Mombasa, it was time to leave the country. We were scheduled to perform in Dar es Salaam, which is only 500km down the coast. For whatever reason, there are no flights from Mombasa to Dar es Salaam. We had to fly an hour northwest back to Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Nairobi and catch a 90 minute flight southeast to Julius Nyerere International Airport in Dar es Salaam. It was a lot of effort for very little reward.

We all stayed at the Johari Rotana Hotel in the Kivukoni district near the city center. Normally, I would have been disappointed in a generic business hotel, but this was the end of the tour and we had experienced plenty of local flavor. I kind of liked the predictability. The hotel had a small outdoor swimming pool that I never used. One of the room's better features was the floor to ceiling window with sea views. If only my room was facing the Indian Ocean instead of the industrial harbor. It was still a better view than looking at the building next door. Just like today's Chinese hotels, my room had large bathroom windows so people in the bedroom could watch their roommates in the bathroom. I have no idea why anyone wants this. Maybe the designers think it romantic to watch someone take a shower, but people do a lot more in bathrooms than lather up. Luckily, we all had ample experience with Chinese hotels, so we knew how to work around it. Easily the best feature of the room was the jazuzzi bathtub. It was not especially large, but it had eight jets coming out from all directions. If I did not have a roommate, I would have spent far more time in that tub.

Makumbusho Village
The Makumbusho Village Museum in Kinondoni is a recreation of traditional villages from several different indigenous tribes. Though it looked nothing like any specific village, the houses were supposed to be authentic representations of each tribe. It all seemed a little too fake to me. There are probably genuine villages people can visit away from the city. The Ngoma dancers were pretty good, though. I did not mind how much that was staged for the tourists since rehearsed dance performances were our reason to be on the continent in the first place.

Kariakoo Market
The Kariakoo Market in Ilala is the outdoor market in Dar es Salaam. Like Mahane Yehuda in Jerusalem or Albert Cuypmarkt in Amsterdam, everyone seems to go there. While I can say nothing for the food, the textile shops on the south end of Jamhuri Street were useful. I know of no better place to buy kangas. The crowds made some of my colleagues a little nervous, which I found interesting, considering where they were from. The most uncomfortably crowded outdoor market I have ever been to anywhere in the world was the Fengshan night market in Kaohsiung on Christmas Day, which is not even a holiday in Taiwan. Kariakoo felt as empty as the Carrboro Farmer's Market in North Carolina by comparison.

Mlimani City in Ubongo is the largest shopping mall in Tanzania. Unfortunately, it looks like any urban shopping mall. I cannot even be bothered to find a picture of it. Some of my colleagues wanted to shop at the Game Supermarket because it was owned by Walmart. We have no Walmarts in Taiwan, so they were curious. I pointed out that the absence of Walmart is one of the best things about Taiwan. Not that it really mattered. While Walmart is a majority stakeholder in the company, Game is run by a South African grocery store chain. It was like any large South African grocery store and had no hillbillies shopping in questionable attire.

The most interesting part about our Mlimani City outing was that the South African company closed down its only Game outlet in Dar es Salaam right after we went and completely pulled out of Tanzania just after that. Had we gone any later, my colleagues would have never experienced a Walmart that was nothing like Walmart.

Zuane, near the US embassy in Kinondoni, is arguably the most authentic looking Italian restaurant in Dar es Salaam. At least that was what a lot of people said. I only went to one Italian restaurant in Dar es Salaam, so what do I know. Their pizzas looked pretty good and the mozzarella was obviously fresh. The person I went with said the ravioli was excellent. Taiwanese people are not the most discriminating connoisseurs when it comes to pasta, but ravioli is essentially dumplings. She knows Chinese dumplings, so who's to say she is not a good judge of Italian ravioli from Tanzania.

Hong Kong Tai Yong Sun Restaurant in Ilala is either the most authentic Cantonese cuisine in all of Dar es Salaam or all of Tanzania, depending who you ask. Oddly, no one said it was the most authentic in all of Africa. My colleagues, some of whom are originally from Guangdong, all of whom are intimately familiar with Cantonese food, were unimpressed.

Azania Front Lutheran Church
A few blocks from our hotel was the Azania Front Lutheran Church. There was nothing particularly special about the building or its history, but I often find myself near Lutheran churches in the least Christian places.

Our time in Nairobi and Mombasa felt entirely too short to me. As soon as we got used to waking up in strange beds, we were off to the next city. In Dar es Salaam, we did not even get a chance to get used to anything. We flew in Wednesday morning, checked in, went to work, spent two whole nights, and left Friday morning. And one of our days in Dar es Salaam was mostly spent in Zanzibar.

On our last full day, we all caught the morning ferry to Zanzibar, did a show in Stone Town, and caught an evening ferry back to Dar es Salaam. The ferry ride was uneventful, except that everyone needed passports and went through immigration and customs. Zanzibar and Dar es Salaam are both in Tanzania, but Zanzibar has its own separate border control. It was almost like crossing the border from Shenzhen into Hong Kong, only with a lot of people speaking in unfamiliar languages. Going through immigration made the trip take a little longer since everyone was a foreigner, no matter which direction they were going.

Zanzibar is a pretty small island. Maybe half the size of Bali. It would have been nice to see more of it. After less than a full day on the island, and most of that time spent at work, I am not exactly the world's foremost authority on Zanzibar. I would not mind staying at one of the beach resorts one day. There are far fewer locals at the resorts, so it cannot possibly be as interesting, but some of the hotels look pretty nice.

Though Mombasa and Zanzibar are both mostly Afro-Arab and/or Muslim with large populations living below the poverty line on the shores of the Indian Ocean, they could not have felt more different. There was a good deal of tension in Mombasa's air. The locals tolerated the mzungu, though my impression was that they merely tolerated our money. It was similar to the Muslim Quarter in Jerusalem's Old City. Anyone who calls you “my friend” is trying to sell you something. Zanzibar was more relaxed. People seemed more genuinely friendly, regardless of how much money we might spend. It probably helps that Zanzibar is made up of several tropical islands with some beautiful beaches. I doubt I will ever go back to Mombasa, though I'm glad I went once. I will be disappointed if I never make it back to Zanzibar some day.

Since the preceding paragraph might come off as negative toward Muslims, I will point out that Zanzibar, the place I liked and want to go back to, has a much larger Muslim population than Mombasa.

African Tour:Mombasa

Moi International Airport
Mombasa, Kenya
After barely any time in Nairobi, we flew from Jomo Kenyatta International Airport to Moi International Airport in Mombasa. Moi just might be the least interesting airport I have ever seen. It looks like an old roadside motel on the outside and a bus station on the inside. The drive from the airport lacked any scenery, despite crossing two bridges and driving over an island.

We all stayed in several apartments relatively close to each other in the Nyali neighborhood of Kisauni. Nyali is generally considered one of the better neighborhoods in Mombasa with the best beaches. Our apartment was largely forgettable. One of the reasons I prefer to stay in houses and apartments is because they usually have more charm than some generic hotel room. This apartment disproved that theory.

As with Nairobi, we worked every day in Mombasa. There was little time for sightseeing. I think I left Mombasa with even less of an impression than I got from Nairobi. At least in Nairobi I had some interesting interactions with the locals. Everyone in Mombasa pretty much stayed away from us.

We saw a few sights. Everyone who goes to Mombasa visits Fort Jesus on Mvita Island. Fort Jesus was built by the Portuguese 400 years ago and was controlled by everyone from the Portuguese to the British to various Arab sultans. As forts go, it is not particularly big, which might be one reason it was so easily captured over the years.

Old Town
My most interesting tourist adventure in Mombasa was walking along the narrow streets in Old Town. Nothing eventful happened, but I always like to see how people live in a place I have never been, especially if I am staying in a building or neighborhood most of them could never afford. The fancier your hotel, the farther removed you are from the real world around you. Mombasa reminded me of Bali in that regard. Not that the two places felt anything alike, but we stayed in a private villa on Bali that the people who cleaned would have to save up to afford. I have no idea how much the apartment in Mombasa cost. Hopefully less than the villa on Bali by the look of it. But it was probably more expensive than most of the houses I saw in Old Town.

Nyali Beach
Like all the foreigners in Mombasa, we went to the beach. Nyali Beach is generally considered the nicest in Mombasa. There was certainly nothing wrong with it. But after the beaches in Cape Town, it was nothing special. It was like going to the Hong Kong Museum of Art right after the Louvre. Something Nyali had that I do not recall ever seeing on any previous beach were camels. More than a few enterprising capitalists brought their camels to the beach so tourists could ride them. This is more common in Kenya than I would have expected. One of my favorite afternoons in Cape Town was riding a horse in Kommetjie. Oddly enough, none of us were as interested in riding a camel.

African Tour:Nairobi

Jomo Kenyatta International Airport
Nairobi, Kenya
After a few days at Kruger National Park and driving around the Mpumalanga countryside, Nairobi was like a different world. Not only is it by far the largest city in Kenya, it is also the gateway to all of the country's national parks and reserves. Everyone who goes to Kenya goes through Nairobi. The mix of international tourists and more locals than any other city in Kenya makes for an interesting, and a little tense, atmosphere.

The entire company stayed at the Sarova Stanley Hotel in the Central Business District. I always preferred houses and apartments, but this was not a bad hotel. It was a little less generic than typical business hotels and it was smack dab in the middle of the CBD. The hotel had a swimming pool that I never got a chance to use, a restaurant that I only saw at breakfast, and a tiny gym that most of us ignored because it was pretty much useless.

Nairobi at its best.
Just outside the hotel was the Jamia Mosque, Kenya National Archives, and Memorial Peace Museum. A little farther away was the Nairobi National Museum. As with most mosques, heathens are not allowed inside the Jamia Mosque. The outside was surprisingly unimpressive. The Kenya National Archives houses the “largest Pan-African art gallery in Africa”. The Memorial Peace Museum is a small memorial to those who died when the American embassy was blown up in 1998. The Nairobi National Museum is a larger than expected natural history museum that focuses exclusively on Sub-Saharan Africa. Between the hotel and the museum was the Maasai Market on the banks of the Nairobi River. It was like any other handmade tourist crap market, but it felt more authentic, for some reason.

We were only in Nairobi for a few days and we worked on all of them. That left little time for exploring, except late at night and early in the morning. The hotel staff told us not to go out after 22:00. They were not even subtle about it. They just came out and said it was too dangerous for foreigners. The CBD is supposed to be the safest part of the city. The hotel staff disagreed.

Not that any of us were going to get murdered if we walked outside the hotel at night. Probably just robbed. Scams are exceptionally popular in Nairobi. We were warned about fake police wanting to check our passports, strangers claiming this ATM is broken and we should use that one over there, good samaritans telling us some tourist sight is closed that day and offering an alternative, friendly people trying to start conversations while their accomplice picks our pockets, and the old international favorite, shady taxi drivers who take you some place you really do not want to go.

One of my favorite scams was one none of us had to worry about. Apparently, some children in Nairobi will approach strange men and loudly claim to be the child they abandoned. The goal is to embarrass the “father” enough to give them some money to go away. Since we were all women, and did not look at all like any of the children, none of us saw that one first hand.

Having already traveled a bit before we reached Nairobi, I was not unfamiliar with the concept of nefarious locals who prey on naive tourists. I met a few taxi drivers in Bangkok who were not entirely honest and was told by a local that the Grand Palace was closed while I was walking away from just visiting the Grand Palace. Stealing my passport is difficult in any country since I never take it with me when I wander around a city, I only use secure ATMs, and I have spent enough time in New York to know how to defend against pickpockets.

Even so, I encountered two obvious scammers in my brief time in Nairobi. One was a middle age man claiming to be an undercover police officer. He never asked to see my passport, but he showed me his badge for about a tenth of a second. From what little I saw, it looked homemade. I know nothing about Kenyan police, but there was nothing about this guy that made me believe he was legitimate. His cheap suit was too large and the way he carried himself looked like someone who had never gone through any military or self-defense training.

Our conversation went something like this:

Scammer: Are you lost?

Me: Not yet.

Scammer: It is not safe in the street.

This was in broad daylight on a reasonably crowded road.

Scammer: I can help you find the way.

Me: To San Jose? Do you know Burt?

Scammer (completely ignoring everything I say): The American embassy is moved. (pointing) It is now that way.

I never said anything about going to any embassy or that I was American. But to a lot of people, if you are white, you must be American.

Scammer: My car can take you.

Me: Pass.

I turned around and walked away. The entire exchange happened too quickly for me to fully realize that he was trying to get me into his car. I prefer not to think about why.

I looked it up later and they did move the American embassy. In 2003. We were relatively close to the old site, which is now a monument to the 1998 bombing.

The second scammer was a longer conversation, but one I still do not understand. I was maybe half a kilometer east of the hotel when a man roughly my age told me he worked at my hotel. He never mentioned the name. He only called it “your hotel” or “the hotel”. He said he worked in the kitchen and was getting ready to make my breakfast. It all sounded completely innocuous at first, other than his refusal to use the hotel's name. I talked to him for a while because, in the highly unlikely event he actually did work for the hotel, he might have some good stories to tell. The people who work behind the scenes are usually the most interesting. Unfortunately, when I asked him for directions back to the hotel, he pointed south.

After some small talk, he asked me if I could help him move some boxes. This really caught me off guard. He said it was for my breakfast, so it was only fair that I helped. I wondered if he had ever met an American tourist before. The more I declined his offer, the more upset he got. He really wanted help moving those boxes. In the end, I walked away, just as I had with the undercover police officer. The good news about Nairobi scammers is that they take no for an answer.

I understand what the fake cop was after. He wanted me to get into his car. I have no idea what the fake hotel employee wanted. Unless he legitimately wanted me to help him move boxes.

Nairobi on any given day.