Nairobi in November

Some catching up to do. 

With all the time that I was spending in Mogadishu in November and early December, I nonetheless was able to catch a number of events in Nairobi as well. This is the time of year where things pick up and there is often a delicate balancing act when prioritizing what you do. For example, last week there were parent-teacher meetings. I try to attend them as much as I can but often they happen when I am traveling. This time I was in Nairobi, but I had some conflicting meetings. One meeting was scheduled exactly in the middle of the time that we were to be bouncing from meeting to meeting, one teacher at a time. The school unrealistically sets these things up a bit like speed-dating. Seven minutes per meeting. Obviously, it would require some serious discipline to pull this off in reality, both on the part of the teacher and the visiting parents. Neither possess such discipline and the result is chaos. It's the repeated fantasy that this might work out at some point that bugs me.

Retreat

I attended a men’s retreat in November. It took place in a hotel/conference facility outside of Nairobi. I’ve been to this place several times and, even though it’s not far from the city, it feels very different. It’s nestled in the midst of tea plantations and, at 2,240 meters (7,280 feet) its altitude makes it considerably cooler than Nairobi. In fact, in the evening it can get cold, even this time of year as we are entering “summer’ in the southern hemisphere.

A Bit about the Location

In 1914, a farm began in the green hills of Tigoni. A place infamously known as “nothing but mist,” Tigoni was a sanctuary for vibrant wildlife and dazzling forests. Progressing from its beginnings as a farm, wartime getaway and golf course into an environmentally-aware hotel and conference centre, Brackenhurst has spent over a hundred years reconnecting with the tremendous beauty of its natural surroundings. Known as “Three Trees Farm” due to the three large muna trees left standing on the property, Brackenhurst was begun with the intention of creating a coffee farm. However, with the start of World War One, the owners of the farm soon found themselves providing holidays for battle-weary British soldiers. This marked the beginning of Brackenhurst’s heritage as a centre for hospitality. Surviving several decades, an earthquake, and a well-concealed leopard, Brackenhurst Hotel was bought by the Baptist Mission of Kenya in 1964. It began to use its beautiful grounds for team-building, conferencing, and adventuring. In 2001, Brackenhurst developed a strong relationship with Plants For Life, an NGO focusing on environmental conservation. As a result, a vast indigenous forest grew on Brackenhurst soil for the first time since 1914. The forest provides a habitat for the restoration of some of the natural wildlife that once abounded in Tigoni.

The first evening we had a bonfire under the stars. As we were chatting, we herd the cracking of what sounded like a tree falling. There was no wind or rain, just a tree deciding that it was time to call it a life. On my way back to my room, I walked past the damage. The compound has several buildings, parking areas, etc. What was amazing was that, though it grazed the side of a building, there was no major damage.

before

after

The other interesting thing was the efficiency with which the staff were able to clean it up the next morning. And most of the chopping was done by machete. Within a couple of hours, you never would have known it happened except for the light-yellow shredded trunk left behind.

Something About Mary

On the first afternoon, I was sitting in the main building doing some emails and a woman wearing a Kenya track suit was sitting one table away from me. I’m not an expert in track suits but this looked like the real deal and she was sporting some high-end running shoes. She also had a bit of an entourage and it led me to think she might be someone of importance. A Kenyan friend of mine said he wasn’t sure but thought that she was an Olympic runner. Kenya has no shortage of those so I wanted to see if I could figure out who she was. Sure enough, after some searching, I figured out that it was Mary Moraa, Kenya’s amazing 800-meter star. She won the bronze medal in Paris and I remembered that we watched her run in the qualifier and in the final last August (in between chores at my parents’ place).

I texted my family and my daughter (who is a big fan) urged me to get an autograph for her. I’m not keen on bothering famous people and I didn’t have a pen on me, but I thought I would maybe see about getting a selfie with her (for the sake of my 11-year-old). By the time I finished texting, she had disappeared. I wasn’t sure where they went, but I thought that I would see her later in the weekend. I know she was still around because her name was on a reserved table in the dining room that evening. Alas, I never saw her after that.