Travel

Kenya is fantastic. Perhaps that is the deeply biased opinion of a mzungu (white man) of whom every passer-by thinks that his pockets drip with money, but I am fairly confident it is objectively true. In five days we have learnt much: we have learnt that the pace of life here is definitely African, not European. We have learnt that it is possible to be far warmer and welcoming than we ever are in the Uk. We have learnt that it is possible for vast swathes of population to have a far deeper grasp of simple Christian truth - Jesus is Lord, we owe our lives to him, God can be trusted - than we have back home.

We must start earlier, at Doha international airport, with a wonderful chat with to Qataris about the hardships of being a citizen of a country that has more money than it knows what to do with. There are 700,000 people in this tiny country sitting on 200 years worth of Gas and Oil, only 250,000 of which are Qataris. The rest have come from all over the globe to the land of golden opportunity, being paid astronomic salaries to lead a bizarre existence somewhere in between the bars of the Marriott and the Hilton (no alcohol may be consumed anywhere except in the Western style Hotels). Meanwhile the Qataris float around in their magnificent pearly white smocks, finished off with gold watches and heavy precious cufflinks with a flashy mobile never far away. They have free education, health care and excellent prospects for work with the Government. Then when they want to live easy for a little, they can pop over to Bahrain to 'live it up' and moan about the ultra conservative Saudis, who order their Police to stop any woman from driving and do other similarly 'unenlightened' things.
Kind though the Qataris are, for the Westerner Doha seemed like little more than an extension of the the airport Duty Free shop: soulless, airconditioned rivers of black gold.

Kenya was the opposite: the paint was pealing off the walls of its Duty free shops, and the ATM told me my transaction had been cancelled (you mean you don't want my money?!). Ekhon (?) and Pauline met us at the airport in order to get us safely onto the EasyCoach to Bungoma. 8 hours' journey describing the rhythmn of Kenyan life: Hundreds of thousands of never-to-be-seen-again black faces, walking, on their bicycles (boda-bodas with someone else on the back), selling roasted maize, hundreds of lorries. On which side of the road do you drive in Kenya? On the side where there aren't any pot holes. Matt's reassuring Halifax English marked almost the end of the journey in Bungoma, just a 40 minute car ride to Kimilili.