A Saturday out and about

Our driver arrived early to pick us up for a trip through Nairobi National Park. After a brief stop for coffee (there are some pretty good coffee shops around with to go coffee, as it turns out) we hit the road toward the park. While we made the park gates in plenty of time for lots of wildlife viewing it certainly wasn't a speedy trip from door to gate. The Saturday traffic in the city was worse than most rush hour traffic in and around Salt Lake City. The best part about sitting in traffic here is the tasty black smoke you get to inhale while waiting. Yum!

In the National Park we got some great close up views of giraffe, zebra, impala, wildebeest, buffalo, eland, warthogs, ostrich, gazelle, and baboons. Amongst our last sitings before leaving the park there was a group of warthogs with a little baby--ugly yet cuddle-up-with-it cute at the same time. Here's a good place to interject that while there would have been a number of great opportunities for photos throughout the day (not just at the park, but elsewhere as well) we did not get a single one. Being highly organized and forward thinking about our day we choose to leave the camera's memory card in our room. However, being conscientious of wanting to take some photos we remembered to bring the--useless without the memory card--camera. Brilliant! Hence, no photos to accompany this post (which you, the reader, may actually be relieved by because most of the photos would have undoubtedly been of our adorable children which you, the reader, may already be sick of because most of the photos we are taking are of the kids--as evidenced by nearly all previous posts and nearly all future posts).

We had some time to spend between an afternoon play date for Grayson and our trip through the park so our driver took us to a place called Mamba Village for lunch. I assume Mamba Village has a website but I've chosen not to view it because I prefer to make up what Mamba Village is in my own mind (it's more fun for me that way). So, the following description is accurate in terms of what we observed but may not be endorsed by the proprietors of Mamba Village.

At the entrance three Maasai warriors greeted us with chanting and dance. We first went to the restaurant which looks out on a grassy area and a water impoundment of some sort (including paddle boats!) across which there was a camel and a horse for kids to ride, a bouncy castle, and a few odd amusement rides. Lunch was soup and a buffet style selection of chicken, fish, potatoes, vegetables, and the like. While lunch was good we are fairly certain that for the four of us (Erica, Ben, Grayson, and our driver) Mamba Village was kind enough to give us a special tourist price. That is, the highest price they felt they could reasonably charge and avoid a scene at checkout. It’s interesting to note that most of the people eating at Mamba Village and enjoying the attractions were locals. Perhaps they were from Nairobi and surroundings, or perhaps they were from elsewhere, but they were definitely Kenyan. So, it is not as if this place (Was it an amusement park? Was it a permanent sort of fair? Was it the Kenyan version of Chuck E. Cheese?) was intended for or necessarily frequented by large numbers of foreigners, at least not that we observed. Frank, have you ever heard of it? Have you been there?

Moving along, Grayson desperately wanted to investigate the horse and camel, bouncy castle, and amusement rides across the water. Also, there was a crocodile “zoo” consisting of three enclosures, each with Crocodiles one on top of another. Altogether, access to the amusements across the water and the crocodile “zoo”, the cost was $5 for Grayson and $10 for Ben. Let’s just say this was an expensive price. The main thing about the crocodile zoo was that the fences between the crocodiles and the people were extremely short at maybe 4 feet or less. The other thing was that while we were there we observed two people actively trying to agitate the crocodiles closest to the fence. One person was successful at eliciting multiple hisses from one crocodile that we could swear could easily have relieved this person of his annoying arm. In the amusement “area” Grayson decided he wanted to take a horse ride (no matter what I came up with I could not persuade him to try out the camel). The horse’s name was John (which I think the horse keeper might have made up on the spot as the first English name that came to mind) and Grayson bravely got on the saddle, requested that the horse keeper hold on to the horse so it would not run, and rode it one way about 30 feet before asking to get off. Apparently, you can also ride ostriches at Mamba Village and while we observed that there were indeed caged ostriches present we decided not to attempt a ride. We left through the front gate with the Maasai warriors dancing and chanting. They were enamored of Dylan so we let one of them hold him for a moment. When the Maasai warrior pretended to run off with him, Dylan lost his marbles screaming for mom. I guess we’ve hit the separation anxiety stage. This same person wanted to hold Grayson as well, but Grayson would have none of it. Eh, maybe next time.

Our driver (I keep saying “our driver”, whose name is Evans) dropped Erica, Grayson, and Dylan off at Grayson’s play date and then drove Ben home. That is to say, the driver sat in traffic with Ben while they inched home. During the ride home Ben learned that taxis are rarely used by Kenyans due to the high cost. For example a cab ride between the UN Campus and the Gigiri Homestead (about half a mile) where we are staying is 200 Kenyan Shillings (just shy of $3). This is a short ride and a nominal fee by US standards. A mtatu (minibus) ride nearly anywhere in the city is about 10 Shillings or about 20 cents. The choice is obvious when one is trying to conserve cash.