Okay…this is the first step. So much has happened and it has been impossible to keep up with the blog. I’m back now. I’m in Kenya, kind of in a relationship and caught in some interesting stuff and ready to blog. But not tonight, tomorrow. You’ve waited for a while, wait a bit longer.
Asante
Two years ago today I was driving around Nairobi with my stepfathers body in the back of my car.
He and my mother were on vacation and after a wonderful barbecue at my house in the bush near Kilimanjaro we went to sleep. It had been a fun night.
At four in the morning my mother woke me. He couldn’t breath. We gave him aspirin. It didn’t help. He turned purple and then blue. I called Nairobi. They couldn’t send help until first light. The landing strip outside my house had no lights and an ambulance would take three hours to reach us. I sent for someone from the small hospital down the road. No one was on duty. He struggled with his pain. We couldn’t do much except tell him help was on it’s way. It wasn’t.
We stood near him. I tried to help. It didn’t work. I gave him mouth to mouth but I think he was already dead. I stopped. Mom asked me to continue. I started again and then stopped again. There was no one to help us.
We wrapped him in a blanket and put his body in my Landcruiser.
We made coffee and watched the sunrise in silence and listened to the birds. My mother loves birds.
Got back from Lake Victoria on Friday afternoon, unpacked and repacked and just barely caught a flight to Mombasa. From one side of the country to the balmy Kenyan coast to meet G and family in the sublime Samati house. I’ve been to the coast scores of times and stayed at the best resorts and some amazing houses, but this place was extraordinary, I dare say the best and the company was truly charming. Far south from the city of Mombasa and close to the boarder of Tanzania this private house sits on a hill above the stunning white beach devoid of nagging beachboys and hawkers. Three lovely and relaxing days floating in the pool, walking on the beach and eating amazing fish under stunning blue sky’s.
I had some good time to think. Like I said, I’ve been to the coast here many times and with so many people. You can never escape the memories of so many people who have come and gone. Many of you I know read this blog and you know what I’m talking about. The sea remains consistent, you all come and go and the tan fades quickly.
Some day it will be so strange that it will be far away.
It’s late, more tomorrow.
In a few hours I’m catching a flight to Mumbai and then on to Srinagar. There are a number of things I need to do in India over the next few days and one is to find some time to relax on a particularly extraordinary houseboat on Lake Dal owned by a reportedly amazing guy named Mister Butt – unfortunate name, no? Anyway, in between my paddling around the lake, Mister Butt will be assisting me in my purchase of textiles as well as spiritually balancing me. Pashmina any one?
On my last sweep through BBC online a few minutes ago I found the article pasted below. Kashmir should be pretty chilled out these days, but of course it wouldn’t be a fun weekend without a little ‘boom boom’. I hope my karma is in good shape.
IndPashminaian officers killed in Kashmir
Two Indian army officers have been killed in a gun battle with separatist militants in Indian-administered Kashmir, military officials say. Fighting broke out at Tangmarg, 40km (25 miles) from the summer capital Srinagar. Nine militants also died and two soldiers were hurt, the army says.
Correspondents say it is the highest loss suffered by the troops in Indian-administered Kashmir this year.
Violence in Kashmir has falled amid peace moves between India and Pakistan.
Talks between the two countries, which both claim Kashmir in its entirety, began in 2004.
Heavily forested
The dead officers have been identified as Maj KP Vinay and Maj DR Raman.
A defence spokesman said the clash began on Tuesday morning and continued on Wednesday.
The army says that its troops came under attack from suspected militants in the area, which is heavily forested and close to the Line of Control which divides Indian- and Pakistani-administered Kashmir.
Earlier this week, India’s new army chief, Gen Deepak Kapoor, ruled out any reduction in the number of Indian soldiers in the area, a long-standing demand of the militants.
The BBC’s Altaf Hussain in Srinagar says that the men killed in the clash are suspected to be members of the Al-Badar Mujahideen group.
Military officials said another militant had been killed in a separate clash with Indian troops in the southern district of Pulwama.
More than 60,000 people have been killed in Kashmir since 1989 when an armed insurgency began against Indian rule.
Sorry folks…no desire to tap much out the last few weeks. Had a wonderful and slightly bizarre weekend camping last week in Tsavo National Park. Every time I’m in the bush I’m reminded just how much I love this country. Mesmerized by the campfire and lulled into a daze by the calls of birds, the buzz of insects and the snorts of giraffe and impala in close proximity, I wonder how I’ll ever live happily without it someday. Back to my base, falling into work on Monday morning, pleasantly surprised by the extreme change in the weather, the days blend together and it’s okay.
There are rumblings of change but I can’t put my finger on how or what. Back into the bush tomorrow with books and bottles of wine and the ubiquitous stars and fire that make Rift Valley the most peaceful and restorative escape for me. Next week – India.
I’m feeling a bit of guilt for not posting this week. It has been so busy and now I’m off to the bush with a tent and a couple of friends for the weekend. It’s all about campfires, wine and elephant!
A full update next week!
I have been trying to call Nicola since Emilian was born and she has never answered. I haven’t been worried really, I can only imagine motherhood is unbelievably hectic, but I have been curious.
Nicola and I met in Cairo in the early part of 1989. She, an intern at a nursery school in Israel and I, a slightly rebellious kid from Connecticut knocking around the Mediterranean, happened upon each other one golden afternoon in the camel market on the outskirts of town. Neither of us shared a common language, but almost instantly we both knew there was some sort of extraordinary connection. It was even more than chemistry and while the people we had separately come with wandered around the paddocks filled with camels of all shapes, sizes and demeanors, we chose to sit on the edge of the dromedary fray and drink sweet mint tea together. I remember we tried to communicate and while the words didn’t work, I believe we both understood even then what we had found at the camel market that day.
We went in different directions, casually swept off by friends, perhaps afraid or too embarrassed to explain to them what was happening and really, what would have been said? We had made no plans to meet again. We hadn’t had the chance to exchange addresses of where we were staying in Cairo or the phone numbers of our respective homes in the States or Germany. In fact we had almost no information about each other at all. As the taxi rattled away from the dusty market the meeting seemed almost unreal and throughout the evening and the days that followed, it continued to linger.
A few days later Andrew, the mate I was traveling with, rejoined his Swedish girlfriend and we all headed by bus to Aswan in the south. I pretty much left the two of them to each other when we arrived. I remember Andrew getting all stupid around Sarah and while I quite liked her, the two of them together were difficult to stomach for very long. So, during those days in Aswan I’d cross the Nile, spending hours drifting on a felucca, reading in the botanical gardens on Elephantine Island or playing backgammon with animated Egyptians in the teahouses around town. We would all meet for dinner sometimes and then wander the Cornish afterwards. This was a time when there were no firm plans and every day passed like any other. Everything sort of blended together and no one was in a hurry. Egypt was cheap and we were happy to be where we were.
One night Andrew and Sarah had gone back to the hotel after dinner, but I wasn’t tired. I walked through the winding alleyways lit with gas lanterns where spice dealers were selling incense and small bags of indigo and heads of pharos carved from alabaster. I remember I was looking for something silver, a thick bracelet to remind myself of Egypt once I had left. I was surveying the possibilities on display outside a shop and I glanced to my side and saw Nicola standing alone, beautiful, her shoulders draped with an Egyptian shawl. She was holding a silver earring up to her ear and observing her reflection in a small mirror held by a visibly enamored Egyptian. She was really a site, with her smooth olive skin and her beautiful almond shaped eyes and when she turned to me her smile drew me closer.
By the next afternoon we had shaken off our other traveling companions and had negotiated with the captain of a small felucca to sail us to Edfu, a trip that would last three days and give us the chance to learn so much more.
And there is so much more but that’s all I have time for now!
So, last night as I was in bed drifting off to sleep an sms from Nicola finally came.
My dearest, dearest James…All fine here, except extremely busy and overtired. Four kids is quite a job and Uwe had to work again right away. Little Emilian Linus James is the most wonderful baby in the world! So pretty and so smart – already knows how to keep us running. Wish you could jump over here. It’s always on my mind to call you and describe the scene…and that’s when the baby wants my breast. I love you! Nicola
