Well, it seems that we are in the air for about 2 hours now and should be 3 hours out from Sharjah (United Arab Emirates). There are certain things that are becoming evident, such as traveling with a child under the age of one internationally is a test of ones patience for sure. Also, traveling on an Arab-based Airlines is…uh…different on many different levels. Additionally, some things are inherently different no matter where one is outside the United States…especially when traveling on an Airplane. Let’s see how things pan out with but a few hours before arrival in the UAE.
First, yes it is a challenge to travel with an infant, especially on flights over 5 hours. There is just no way around it. Folks in charge of the travel authorities in various countries do nothing to make this easier either. I will say that KAA (Kenyan Air Authority or something similar) was much easier than TSA or the British equivalent. The Kenyans are very understanding when it comes to traveling with Children. It was very obvious, to them, that infants require special foods, liquids, and even travel equipment. Compare that to the US or Brits who think that anyone with an infant should pay dearly for the nerve to travel…almost like they get some sick type of humorous fulfillment to see just how difficult they can make it. The hoops my wife had to jump through when traveling from the U.S. through London onward to Nairobi was horrible. There is no way that one could have much of a positive experience traveling that way. Now, on our way to Sharja, things are much easier albeit our daughter is being a tad challenging on her own accord.
We were fortunate enough to get a bassinet seat on this flight. This gives us our own row at the front with a wall-mounted flat bassinet that she initially thought was a playground, not a place to sleep. We tried feeding, bottles, playing, plugs…everything trying to get her to sleep. Finally, we bought a blanket, got her sleepy, wrapped her up and things are good to go. For some reason, we thought going somewhere that averages 105 degrees…we may not need a heavy blanket. Forgot about cold airplanes, I guess. This airline is a spin off of something like Southwest but cheaper. It cost the three of us about $500 USD to fly round trip. Most other airlines were going to cost closer to $1200-$1500 USD. To get around this, EVERYTHING costs you. Not supposed to bring food on board nor drink, and everything is available…at a cost. This includes earphones and blankets…either of which if you want one you have to buy the other. I will say that it is not that expensive though…$8 USD for a blanket, headphones, eye-shade, and a nifty Ziploc bag to store it in. Regardless, I would have paid $50 USD for the blanket considering it helped my daughter sleep for awhile empowering us to relax for a bit.
There are also differences in an Arabic-run airline. Not the cheap part…that would be a stereotype that would not be supported on this forum…albeit it is kind of funny to consider. The first part is the distinct Muslim flair. The first message delivered is always in Arabic and also includes the Muslim salutation of “As Salaam Alaikum” meaning (roughly in English) God’s blessing to you. I would say roughly 80% of the folks onboard are familiar with this salutation (including this author) and it seemed normal. I also saw the other 20% maybe seeming miffed by it. Funny how some folks would be upset if their beliefs (faith) were not tolerated yet immediately throw stones in a glass house. In addition, the first book of the Quran was read prior to take off. Basically, it says that there is one and only one God, none other before H` im and He is responsible for everything and everybody. I actually liked the fact that there was a quick prayer that all things work out prior to departure. After our past experiences every little bit of help is appreciated.
The other difference in an Arab-based airline…right before take-off, the head stewardess popped the top off of two air sanitizers and walked the entire length of the cabin…and it was GREATLY APPRECIATED! Arabs, like a lot of Kenyans, not only do not think Soap is something one should use every day but Deodorant is either a luxury or optional…kind of like turn signals on cars. There is something to be said about someone walking past and wafting dirty ass and various other body odors so strong that it masks everything else for 10-30 seconds of your world. I have smelt dead things (long dead) that do not have the strength of this type of smell. Chemistry experiments left in the refrigerator for months that cannot compare…and these folks do not even seem to notice it!!! Maybe they think everyone is crying for joy that they grace us with their presence…not that the odors are like 30 raw onions being chopped mere inches from our eyeballs. I will give the fact that there are a lot of folks out there that cannot necessarily afford to take showers every day and further cannot afford deodorant. I get that. I do not get the folks that are flying places, wearing designer clothes , sunglasses, and shoes…expensive luggage and can afford expensive coffee drinks in the airport cannot afford to wash their dirty ass with a cheap bar of soap at least once a day…and utilize some sort of deodorant. Sure, some cultures do not mind one smelling like flattened-fauna left simmering in the July Sun…but not in an enclosed environment like an airplane! THERE SHOULD BE LAWS!!!
I also know that if this flight were to leave from any major airport in the United States…probably half the white folk would have bailed on this flight due to the stereotype of the folks flying on this one. Other than me and one other dude, EVERYONE looks the part. Some more so than others, but the mold is fit. TSA mirror-foggers would lose their freaking mind watching some of these people try to go through security. For example, a few of the guys that boarded the flight looked like they should be on the FBI’s 10 Most Wanted International list. Some of them are probably buttholes and some of them are probably really cool…kind of like any folks from any culture or religion. While some feel that anyone that is Muslim is automatically a bad person and others feel that anyone that is Muslim is better than anyone that is not…get a grip, people are people. I am very interested in seeing what it is like to be in a Muslim country that “somewhat” practices a version of Sharia law. If we are fortunate enough to gain employment while we are there and go back, I am excited to see what it is like living in a Muslim country to see how it affects society as a whole…as well as what they think of Americans.
There is going to be a lot of changes continuing from USA, to Kenya, to United Arab Emirates. Although cosmopolitan, Sharja is a bit different than Dubai…a lot more traditional with fewer “Western” distractions like Prostitution and Drug Abuse. The growth has been much more controlled in Sharja and therefore they had kept a better handle on it. Regardless, I am excited to check it out, excited to get on the ground with an infant, and probably going to be excited to get into air-conditioning once we reach.
Peace,
Dude
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
A Sad and Interesting Day Indeed
Today was a day of firsts, and not all of them were necessarily happy firsts. It was a very long day and we covered most of the city of Nairobi. Drove through some very, very poor sections of town I had never seen before and had two flat tires (at once) due to an idiot driving an SUV at night…and a lot in between.
This was a sad week. My friend’s brother passed away from a pulmonary embolism. It was unexpected as he was quite young at 36 (I think) but he had been very ill. He was the one that had been diagnosed with TB some time ago but we are still not completely sure what it is that he had. The sad thing is, pulmonary embolisms like he had are very preventable. Folks that spend too much time in bed develop pools of blood in their legs that if left untreated can form clots that travel to the lungs effectively suffocating a person. Simple shots of Heparin can go a long ways towards preventing this. So can various physiotherapy-type workouts. It is too bad, indeed. On the other side of the coin, there was much suffering from a disease that was as of yet undiagnosed, and had absolutely ravaged his body. He was mentally challenged to begin with and probably did not understand what it was that was making him so sick. This does not help as I am very sad, not only for him but for his Mother, Brother, and extended family that is left behind. I take comfort knowing that he has journeyed to a better place than any one of us here knows.
He and his entire family are Sikh. Actually, I would say that 90% of the people I have met and interact with here are Sikh. Going hand in hand, they are also mostly Punjab, an ethnic group from India. Sikhs are probably mostly recognized in public by the turbans they wear, but very few of the ones I interact with wear them. Their religion is very interesting as it is founded around three principals of worship God, work diligently, and share one’s fruits. Their daily prayers even include prayers for all mankind, not just for within their faith…which I find cool compared to other religions that strongly believe all other religions will populate hell. Non-Sikhs can partake in prayer meetings, social functions…the Sikh’s even have a tenant where they feed anyone for free anytime (called Langar) which, in my interpretation, serves as a way to honor all socio-economic backgrounds (which is very important to Sikh’s) and to serve all mankind. This has been very apparent, even practiced by most all Sikh’s I have interacted with here. To worship, yet live one’s life, the exact same way is very admirable.
Back to the previous story, I attended a Sikh funeral for the first time. There are a lot of differences between “American” funerals as they are called here and “Sikh” funerals. First, it is not an opportunity for everyone in the community to profit from someone’s loss. Rather, the entire Sikh community bands together and helps there brothers and sisters in time of need. There is a Sikh Hospital that provides the necessary medical support , a hearse, services, temple, prayers…all for free or for a very modest fee to cover expenses. Very unlike American funerals where I remember vividly the funeral home trying to make us feel morally bankrupt for not providing bells and whistles for my Father’s funeral. Instead, the Sikh community banded together at a time of need and took care of their own, a basic tenant my Father instilled in me at a young age.
Also different, they do not use burial as a means of a resting place. Instead, they cremate as they believe the body is but a physical tool but their soul lives on. During the prayers, they pray for a swift passage of the soul onward to its final destination. I participated somewhat in the process as what Americans would call a Pall Bearer. Instead of a casket, the body is transported in an open metal box and the body is covered in sheets, something similar to a prayer rug, and surrounded by flowers. The men of the family drive and ride in the hearse (provided by the Sikh community) to the crematorium and carry the body in. When the body is carried into the crematorium, there is a certain note of finality that is missing from American funerals. Hard to explain but it is very real when one is standing there. There are no comforting speeches about the greatness of the departed, no humorous stories, documented great accomplishments…simply prayers and well-wishes for a speedy departure of one’s soul to heaven.
Going back to prior to the funeral, and all this past week, our power has been cut off sometime between 09:00 and 10:00 every day for what I am assuming is some type of power line work. We had initially thought (stupid us) that they would not cut off the power on a weekend…but alas that is what I get for assuming, you know. Trying to get ready for this funeral without electricity was tough, especially considering our hot water comes from electricity (as does hair dryers and other functional tools required by my wife). When it is 60 degrees outside (and inside) and one takes a cold shower, at least I can say that we were awake. Actually, one can get used to cold showers after awhile…just a transition to living in a third-world country. Getting around a bit late due to previously mentioned, we met the rest of our party at their home for the long drive to the Temple. Traffic here is CRAZY after the rains we had the day before. The roads are still as narrow but the full-of-water potholes on the side of the road take away the “sidewalk passing lanes” that the Matatus and other, more adventurous drivers use to quicken their arrivals. It also slows down traffic as folks do not know actually how deep some of those water-filled holes are! Thirdly, it seems that folks are very hesitant to get their vehicles wet and will brake wildly or swing out into traffic even more wildly to avoid it. So, a 30 minute trip took a little over an hour.
The Temple is located in the far North-East part of Nairobi. It borders on a poorer part of town then where I live but the crematorium is located in a very, very poor part of town. Roads in worse condition, traffic heavier, buildings older, the area filled with garbage and very much dirtier than even what we see on the West side of town. It was bad enough that we were advised not to drive and follow behind, so instead we packed into vans with professional drivers. The smell of burning garbage everywhere one goes, people sitting in “yards”, to use the term loosely, which were mostly bare ground, rocks, and trash…absolute poverty one usually only sees on television. It really opens one’s eyes to how good they have it, for sure. Folks there just staring at the procession of Mzungu and Punjabis through their neighborhood in either disbelief or curiosity of what might bring them to their side of town…
On the way back to Karen, we had one of our friends drive us back as I had NO idea where I was and how to get back. On the long drive back it was nice to check out the progression of neighborhoods from Slum, to Urban, to Suburban. I like where we live albeit it has its own sets of hazards to deal with.
In Karen, where we live, there is an obsession with folks driving large Four-Wheel Drives, most anything that resembles a Safari vehicle is best. Landcruisers, LandRovers, Trucks with Roll bars…just so long as it sits very high and has at least four, zillion-candlepower driving lights mounted either to the front bumper or the roll bars. These self-entitled people feel that the roads are their own prized possessions and can drive any which way that they want, especially at night. The roads here, as mentioned previously, are very narrow. Combine that with all the obstacles and zero street lights, it is very hard to see what one is doing. It is even harder when some butthole is heading right towards you driving down the center of the road with their bright driving lights on. A courtesy flash of ones high-beams prompts a retort of very, very high-power driving lights being burst into ones retinas causing a fearful momentary blindness. Last night was a wonderful demonstration of this. We had to travel a ways to get some medicines as we were unable to do our shopping during daylight hours because of the funeral. On our way back home, in the pitch-black night, some Karen Cowboy Butthole decides to test his/her power-wielding road advantage by sizzling mine and my wife’s retinas with a burst of light that probably are photon torpedoes from the deck of the Starship Enterprise. All the while my 10 month old daughter is sitting in the backseat. In the darkness and insecurity of the back roads of Karen, we were yet again forced off the road so that society’s elite may drive down the middle of the road. However, this time we had the wonderful privilege of hammering both passenger-side tires on a hidden pothole causing one flat tire and another one with wheel damaged but drivable. I changed the tire in pure darkness on the rear, always observant of any noise or oncoming vehicle for fear of a carjacking or possibly a simple mugging. While I was changing it the wife was on the phone with our friends and they were on the way to help. By the time they appeared, I had already changed the rear tire and was driving VERY slowly as the front-left tire was “thumping” (both felt and heard). They were nice enough to follow us home at 20 KPH to make sure we limped in ok. Now, we have an un-drivable vehicle in front of the place and are awaiting our friends to bring us one repaired tire so that we can get our errands done today.
My plan moving forward is to collect a number of 4-5 pound (2 Kilo) rocks to keep in a small box next to the driver’s seat. Now, instead of a courtesy flash of the high beams to help me see the road while my 10 month old daughter sleeps in the back seat…I will softly lob a rock in the air and let it smash through the windshield of the oncoming butthole letting them know they should dim their lights…
Peace,
Dude
FBO
This was a sad week. My friend’s brother passed away from a pulmonary embolism. It was unexpected as he was quite young at 36 (I think) but he had been very ill. He was the one that had been diagnosed with TB some time ago but we are still not completely sure what it is that he had. The sad thing is, pulmonary embolisms like he had are very preventable. Folks that spend too much time in bed develop pools of blood in their legs that if left untreated can form clots that travel to the lungs effectively suffocating a person. Simple shots of Heparin can go a long ways towards preventing this. So can various physiotherapy-type workouts. It is too bad, indeed. On the other side of the coin, there was much suffering from a disease that was as of yet undiagnosed, and had absolutely ravaged his body. He was mentally challenged to begin with and probably did not understand what it was that was making him so sick. This does not help as I am very sad, not only for him but for his Mother, Brother, and extended family that is left behind. I take comfort knowing that he has journeyed to a better place than any one of us here knows.
He and his entire family are Sikh. Actually, I would say that 90% of the people I have met and interact with here are Sikh. Going hand in hand, they are also mostly Punjab, an ethnic group from India. Sikhs are probably mostly recognized in public by the turbans they wear, but very few of the ones I interact with wear them. Their religion is very interesting as it is founded around three principals of worship God, work diligently, and share one’s fruits. Their daily prayers even include prayers for all mankind, not just for within their faith…which I find cool compared to other religions that strongly believe all other religions will populate hell. Non-Sikhs can partake in prayer meetings, social functions…the Sikh’s even have a tenant where they feed anyone for free anytime (called Langar) which, in my interpretation, serves as a way to honor all socio-economic backgrounds (which is very important to Sikh’s) and to serve all mankind. This has been very apparent, even practiced by most all Sikh’s I have interacted with here. To worship, yet live one’s life, the exact same way is very admirable.
Back to the previous story, I attended a Sikh funeral for the first time. There are a lot of differences between “American” funerals as they are called here and “Sikh” funerals. First, it is not an opportunity for everyone in the community to profit from someone’s loss. Rather, the entire Sikh community bands together and helps there brothers and sisters in time of need. There is a Sikh Hospital that provides the necessary medical support , a hearse, services, temple, prayers…all for free or for a very modest fee to cover expenses. Very unlike American funerals where I remember vividly the funeral home trying to make us feel morally bankrupt for not providing bells and whistles for my Father’s funeral. Instead, the Sikh community banded together at a time of need and took care of their own, a basic tenant my Father instilled in me at a young age.
Also different, they do not use burial as a means of a resting place. Instead, they cremate as they believe the body is but a physical tool but their soul lives on. During the prayers, they pray for a swift passage of the soul onward to its final destination. I participated somewhat in the process as what Americans would call a Pall Bearer. Instead of a casket, the body is transported in an open metal box and the body is covered in sheets, something similar to a prayer rug, and surrounded by flowers. The men of the family drive and ride in the hearse (provided by the Sikh community) to the crematorium and carry the body in. When the body is carried into the crematorium, there is a certain note of finality that is missing from American funerals. Hard to explain but it is very real when one is standing there. There are no comforting speeches about the greatness of the departed, no humorous stories, documented great accomplishments…simply prayers and well-wishes for a speedy departure of one’s soul to heaven.
Going back to prior to the funeral, and all this past week, our power has been cut off sometime between 09:00 and 10:00 every day for what I am assuming is some type of power line work. We had initially thought (stupid us) that they would not cut off the power on a weekend…but alas that is what I get for assuming, you know. Trying to get ready for this funeral without electricity was tough, especially considering our hot water comes from electricity (as does hair dryers and other functional tools required by my wife). When it is 60 degrees outside (and inside) and one takes a cold shower, at least I can say that we were awake. Actually, one can get used to cold showers after awhile…just a transition to living in a third-world country. Getting around a bit late due to previously mentioned, we met the rest of our party at their home for the long drive to the Temple. Traffic here is CRAZY after the rains we had the day before. The roads are still as narrow but the full-of-water potholes on the side of the road take away the “sidewalk passing lanes” that the Matatus and other, more adventurous drivers use to quicken their arrivals. It also slows down traffic as folks do not know actually how deep some of those water-filled holes are! Thirdly, it seems that folks are very hesitant to get their vehicles wet and will brake wildly or swing out into traffic even more wildly to avoid it. So, a 30 minute trip took a little over an hour.
The Temple is located in the far North-East part of Nairobi. It borders on a poorer part of town then where I live but the crematorium is located in a very, very poor part of town. Roads in worse condition, traffic heavier, buildings older, the area filled with garbage and very much dirtier than even what we see on the West side of town. It was bad enough that we were advised not to drive and follow behind, so instead we packed into vans with professional drivers. The smell of burning garbage everywhere one goes, people sitting in “yards”, to use the term loosely, which were mostly bare ground, rocks, and trash…absolute poverty one usually only sees on television. It really opens one’s eyes to how good they have it, for sure. Folks there just staring at the procession of Mzungu and Punjabis through their neighborhood in either disbelief or curiosity of what might bring them to their side of town…
On the way back to Karen, we had one of our friends drive us back as I had NO idea where I was and how to get back. On the long drive back it was nice to check out the progression of neighborhoods from Slum, to Urban, to Suburban. I like where we live albeit it has its own sets of hazards to deal with.
In Karen, where we live, there is an obsession with folks driving large Four-Wheel Drives, most anything that resembles a Safari vehicle is best. Landcruisers, LandRovers, Trucks with Roll bars…just so long as it sits very high and has at least four, zillion-candlepower driving lights mounted either to the front bumper or the roll bars. These self-entitled people feel that the roads are their own prized possessions and can drive any which way that they want, especially at night. The roads here, as mentioned previously, are very narrow. Combine that with all the obstacles and zero street lights, it is very hard to see what one is doing. It is even harder when some butthole is heading right towards you driving down the center of the road with their bright driving lights on. A courtesy flash of ones high-beams prompts a retort of very, very high-power driving lights being burst into ones retinas causing a fearful momentary blindness. Last night was a wonderful demonstration of this. We had to travel a ways to get some medicines as we were unable to do our shopping during daylight hours because of the funeral. On our way back home, in the pitch-black night, some Karen Cowboy Butthole decides to test his/her power-wielding road advantage by sizzling mine and my wife’s retinas with a burst of light that probably are photon torpedoes from the deck of the Starship Enterprise. All the while my 10 month old daughter is sitting in the backseat. In the darkness and insecurity of the back roads of Karen, we were yet again forced off the road so that society’s elite may drive down the middle of the road. However, this time we had the wonderful privilege of hammering both passenger-side tires on a hidden pothole causing one flat tire and another one with wheel damaged but drivable. I changed the tire in pure darkness on the rear, always observant of any noise or oncoming vehicle for fear of a carjacking or possibly a simple mugging. While I was changing it the wife was on the phone with our friends and they were on the way to help. By the time they appeared, I had already changed the rear tire and was driving VERY slowly as the front-left tire was “thumping” (both felt and heard). They were nice enough to follow us home at 20 KPH to make sure we limped in ok. Now, we have an un-drivable vehicle in front of the place and are awaiting our friends to bring us one repaired tire so that we can get our errands done today.
My plan moving forward is to collect a number of 4-5 pound (2 Kilo) rocks to keep in a small box next to the driver’s seat. Now, instead of a courtesy flash of the high beams to help me see the road while my 10 month old daughter sleeps in the back seat…I will softly lob a rock in the air and let it smash through the windshield of the oncoming butthole letting them know they should dim their lights…
Peace,
Dude
FBO
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Times, They Are a Changin...
Well, a lot has happened in the past two weeks. I do not even know where to start. Things have been really crazy, that is for sure. I guess I should start at the beginning…sort of.
My wife, daughter, and our friend Diana were supposed to arrive here on July 8th at around 10:00pm. Unfortunately their flight was delayed in DFW and they ended up missing there connecting flight to Nairobi. That really sucks, but we can work around it. British Airways was a real pain in the butt to deal with, which is surprising. We actually pay a bit more for BA as their service is usually so good. Anyhoo, after 8 hours of trying to catch another flight, BA FINALLY agrees to provide a hotel room. Nothing like 8 hours of overnight flight with a 10 month old and be stuck in an airport for another day. So prior to arriving at the hotel, they are given two options. One, they can fly to Dar ES Salam (Tanzania) and catch their own ride up to Nairobi (probably would have cost us about $1500 extra) which is a far cry from their non-stop first-class seats from Heathrow to Nairobi. The second option is to try and catch a standby flight the next day. Get a hotel room and it is a no-brainer…right? Wrong.
BA, in their infinite wisdom, does not release the tickets to them until 20 minutes prior to departure…and they have yet to go through security. My wife was begging them to let them go earlier to no avail, even though the tickets are in view and ready to roll. As their luck had it, security was backed up and they missed a second flight. At this point, I am fuming mad at BA, my wife is in tears, my daughter is screaming and crying, and we have probably spent a house payment on international calls trying to get this thing figured out. BA brings up their option of flying to Dar again, and I feel like they can shove it up their butt! So, after about another 8 hours of hanging out at their customer service desk, they get the idea that they can fly to Johannesburg then catch a flight to Nairobi… It is an 8 hour flight from London to Nairobi. It is a 15 hour flight from London to Johannesburg and another 6 hours back up to Nairobi. This was their final option and we had to take it. So, instead of arriving on Wednesday evening, they arrived in Friday evening, looking REALLY tired. It was all worthwhile when my daughter waved and screamed “Da Da” when she saw me.
The part that really sucks….two things actually sucked. One, my wife fell prey to a scam in South Africa. Seems that the flight crew and the ground crew are in on it and a lot of the other airlines and airports are familiar with it. They make you take your carryon and check it in once you get on the plane. They will claim it is too heavy or something similar, but it is all crap. What they do is document what is in it upon scanning it, the stewardess claims it is too heavy, they take it under the plane and then rip off everything they can that is inside it. It is really sad, but my wife lost a LOT of stuff out of her carryon. That is very much like being diagnosed with cancer and having the doctor kick you in the crotch after dropping the news. Of course, all of this is discovered within 30 minutes of arriving to their new home…
The second thing that sucked was that only one bag came through. It took four trips to the Nairobi airport and exactly one week to get all of our belongings to Nairobi. I do not know what else could have gone wrong with this flight…other than they disposed of all my daughters’ baby food at security and there was nothing to be bought at the airport.
Ok, so we have the traveling behind us. Time to get our ducks in a row, right? Wrong. Dead wrong.
Upon arriving here, I was supposed to start working immediately. That was the entire reason for me leaving early (six weeks) and having my wife come meet me here. Well, one thing led to another and I never did get employment started. The day after my wife arrived here in Nairobi, the entire project I was working on was canceled…last minute. In addition, the guy running the project turned out to be a huge flake and left us without any other options. Ok, so here we are in a third-world country, do not know anyone (other than the flake), do not have a job, just moved my entire family here plus animals (about $30K all said and done), and no prospects of a job either. Just got a car, bought a ton of crap to furnish our apartment and now have very limited cash flow…crap.
We got on the horn and now have plane tickets to the UAE (Sharja, just North of Dubai). My wife and I are both looking to interview while being there and if it works out, will move to our third country in three months. Things are still up in the air right now but we are trying to maintain our optimism. I still like Nairobi a lot and enjoy living here. Earning an income, unfortunately, is a high priority no matter where we live and that well seems to have dried up with the flake. Re-learned a very valuable lesson: NEVER EVER DEPEND ON ANYONE ELSE OTHER THAN YOURSELF! YOU WILL ALWAYS GET SCREWED!!!
My wife, daughter, and our friend Diana were supposed to arrive here on July 8th at around 10:00pm. Unfortunately their flight was delayed in DFW and they ended up missing there connecting flight to Nairobi. That really sucks, but we can work around it. British Airways was a real pain in the butt to deal with, which is surprising. We actually pay a bit more for BA as their service is usually so good. Anyhoo, after 8 hours of trying to catch another flight, BA FINALLY agrees to provide a hotel room. Nothing like 8 hours of overnight flight with a 10 month old and be stuck in an airport for another day. So prior to arriving at the hotel, they are given two options. One, they can fly to Dar ES Salam (Tanzania) and catch their own ride up to Nairobi (probably would have cost us about $1500 extra) which is a far cry from their non-stop first-class seats from Heathrow to Nairobi. The second option is to try and catch a standby flight the next day. Get a hotel room and it is a no-brainer…right? Wrong.
BA, in their infinite wisdom, does not release the tickets to them until 20 minutes prior to departure…and they have yet to go through security. My wife was begging them to let them go earlier to no avail, even though the tickets are in view and ready to roll. As their luck had it, security was backed up and they missed a second flight. At this point, I am fuming mad at BA, my wife is in tears, my daughter is screaming and crying, and we have probably spent a house payment on international calls trying to get this thing figured out. BA brings up their option of flying to Dar again, and I feel like they can shove it up their butt! So, after about another 8 hours of hanging out at their customer service desk, they get the idea that they can fly to Johannesburg then catch a flight to Nairobi… It is an 8 hour flight from London to Nairobi. It is a 15 hour flight from London to Johannesburg and another 6 hours back up to Nairobi. This was their final option and we had to take it. So, instead of arriving on Wednesday evening, they arrived in Friday evening, looking REALLY tired. It was all worthwhile when my daughter waved and screamed “Da Da” when she saw me.
The part that really sucks….two things actually sucked. One, my wife fell prey to a scam in South Africa. Seems that the flight crew and the ground crew are in on it and a lot of the other airlines and airports are familiar with it. They make you take your carryon and check it in once you get on the plane. They will claim it is too heavy or something similar, but it is all crap. What they do is document what is in it upon scanning it, the stewardess claims it is too heavy, they take it under the plane and then rip off everything they can that is inside it. It is really sad, but my wife lost a LOT of stuff out of her carryon. That is very much like being diagnosed with cancer and having the doctor kick you in the crotch after dropping the news. Of course, all of this is discovered within 30 minutes of arriving to their new home…
The second thing that sucked was that only one bag came through. It took four trips to the Nairobi airport and exactly one week to get all of our belongings to Nairobi. I do not know what else could have gone wrong with this flight…other than they disposed of all my daughters’ baby food at security and there was nothing to be bought at the airport.
Ok, so we have the traveling behind us. Time to get our ducks in a row, right? Wrong. Dead wrong.
Upon arriving here, I was supposed to start working immediately. That was the entire reason for me leaving early (six weeks) and having my wife come meet me here. Well, one thing led to another and I never did get employment started. The day after my wife arrived here in Nairobi, the entire project I was working on was canceled…last minute. In addition, the guy running the project turned out to be a huge flake and left us without any other options. Ok, so here we are in a third-world country, do not know anyone (other than the flake), do not have a job, just moved my entire family here plus animals (about $30K all said and done), and no prospects of a job either. Just got a car, bought a ton of crap to furnish our apartment and now have very limited cash flow…crap.
We got on the horn and now have plane tickets to the UAE (Sharja, just North of Dubai). My wife and I are both looking to interview while being there and if it works out, will move to our third country in three months. Things are still up in the air right now but we are trying to maintain our optimism. I still like Nairobi a lot and enjoy living here. Earning an income, unfortunately, is a high priority no matter where we live and that well seems to have dried up with the flake. Re-learned a very valuable lesson: NEVER EVER DEPEND ON ANYONE ELSE OTHER THAN YOURSELF! YOU WILL ALWAYS GET SCREWED!!!
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Six Weeks
Today is the big day! It has been six weeks since I have seen my wife and daughter. I was not happy about coming over here without them, but because of the situation at the time it was important that I do so. At the time, we were told there was a cutoff date when we could ship the animals which we later found out was false, BA’s way of securing our business which they did not. Also, it was imperative that I arrive before June 1st because of a project that was eminent, but alas that has not come to pass either. No, I came over early for no reason whatsoever and missed an incredible amount of accomplishments by doing so.
It was incredibly hard on my wife, being alone and having such a full plate. We had already moved once in the month prior to my departure. This move was from a 5600 sq/ft house into a 1300 sq/ft house which, logistically speaking was a nightmare. We have two large storage facilities holding all our extra stuff and cram-packed the newer rental house with the rest of it. When I left, I had successfully packed my suitcases and left a very large mess for my wife to deal with. We had a garage sale that my Mother and Cousin successfully pulled off after my leaving but this required that my wife prepare a lot of stuff for it. I think we probably got about half of what we should have had in the garage sale but that was a great accomplishment all things considered.
My wife is a real trooper. Not only did she coordinate the move out of the rental house to a temporary stay with her family, she was also working and managing a family crisis all at the same time. Also, I do not want to mention that she was also the sole provider for our 9 month old daughter concurrently with all this mess. We had a ton of help from her very good friend, Diana and her family. There is no doubt we would not have pulled it off if not for their outstanding support. Having to pack the house on her own, separate stuff that goes to storage, stuff that goes to Kenya and stuff that needs to go away was a real challenge on her own. If anyone knows my wife, they know that she is mentally adept at being VERY organized. Something I do not possess no matter how hard I try. Through all of the adversity, she managed to keep a manifest list, numbering all the boxes and documenting the contents of each box. Add to this, shutting down all the utilities, arranging for flights, completing her work, dealing with her family crisis, feeding the baby, changing the baby, nursing the baby, supporting her family, writing letters, visiting her brother, and planning an international move…I do not know how she did it, but she did.
She is arriving at around 9:00pm EAT (East Africa Time) and no doubt is going to be bone tired. She has averaged 3-4 hours of sleep a night for the past week. I am so anxious for her to arrive and her be able to relax and do nothing for the next few days. I have already offered 100% baby duty and look forward to pampering her for awhile. There is no doubt we are one, through good and bad, and she is definitely my better half. I am excited to have her here.
I also really miss my daughter! Because of the border-line fraud involved with me leaving six weeks early, I have missed out on so much of my daughter’s accomplishments. She was just starting to crawl good before I left; now she is pulling herself upright and standing (somewhat) on her own. She was just starting to speak a bit and I was able to hear “Dada” before leaving. Now, anytime my wife’s phone rings, she starts saying “Dada!” She also is babbling in complete sentences now, has more hair, more mobile, and generally turning into a true little person. I have missed all of it and have a huge fear that she will not remember me. That is something that I have tried to become comfortable with in my mind but am sure it will break my heart if she does not show excitement when she sees me.
For the most part, I have been solitary and isolated since arriving here. I know but a handful of people and those folks have been out of town for the majority of my stay. I have experienced loneliness that I have never been exposed to before. As I sit here counting the seconds until my family arrives, the moment I see them it will all be gone and back to normal.
Peace,
Dude.
FBO
It was incredibly hard on my wife, being alone and having such a full plate. We had already moved once in the month prior to my departure. This move was from a 5600 sq/ft house into a 1300 sq/ft house which, logistically speaking was a nightmare. We have two large storage facilities holding all our extra stuff and cram-packed the newer rental house with the rest of it. When I left, I had successfully packed my suitcases and left a very large mess for my wife to deal with. We had a garage sale that my Mother and Cousin successfully pulled off after my leaving but this required that my wife prepare a lot of stuff for it. I think we probably got about half of what we should have had in the garage sale but that was a great accomplishment all things considered.
My wife is a real trooper. Not only did she coordinate the move out of the rental house to a temporary stay with her family, she was also working and managing a family crisis all at the same time. Also, I do not want to mention that she was also the sole provider for our 9 month old daughter concurrently with all this mess. We had a ton of help from her very good friend, Diana and her family. There is no doubt we would not have pulled it off if not for their outstanding support. Having to pack the house on her own, separate stuff that goes to storage, stuff that goes to Kenya and stuff that needs to go away was a real challenge on her own. If anyone knows my wife, they know that she is mentally adept at being VERY organized. Something I do not possess no matter how hard I try. Through all of the adversity, she managed to keep a manifest list, numbering all the boxes and documenting the contents of each box. Add to this, shutting down all the utilities, arranging for flights, completing her work, dealing with her family crisis, feeding the baby, changing the baby, nursing the baby, supporting her family, writing letters, visiting her brother, and planning an international move…I do not know how she did it, but she did.
She is arriving at around 9:00pm EAT (East Africa Time) and no doubt is going to be bone tired. She has averaged 3-4 hours of sleep a night for the past week. I am so anxious for her to arrive and her be able to relax and do nothing for the next few days. I have already offered 100% baby duty and look forward to pampering her for awhile. There is no doubt we are one, through good and bad, and she is definitely my better half. I am excited to have her here.
I also really miss my daughter! Because of the border-line fraud involved with me leaving six weeks early, I have missed out on so much of my daughter’s accomplishments. She was just starting to crawl good before I left; now she is pulling herself upright and standing (somewhat) on her own. She was just starting to speak a bit and I was able to hear “Dada” before leaving. Now, anytime my wife’s phone rings, she starts saying “Dada!” She also is babbling in complete sentences now, has more hair, more mobile, and generally turning into a true little person. I have missed all of it and have a huge fear that she will not remember me. That is something that I have tried to become comfortable with in my mind but am sure it will break my heart if she does not show excitement when she sees me.
For the most part, I have been solitary and isolated since arriving here. I know but a handful of people and those folks have been out of town for the majority of my stay. I have experienced loneliness that I have never been exposed to before. As I sit here counting the seconds until my family arrives, the moment I see them it will all be gone and back to normal.
Peace,
Dude.
FBO
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Independence Day in a Foreign Land
Today is July 4, 2009 and the United States of America celebrates yet another birthday. She is a little worse for wear considering she is 233 years old. The United States I was born into is quite different than the one I left this year. It is also interesting getting foreigner’s views on the United States and because of the day, I thought I would write a little about all of the above.
Does anyone remember “Leave it to Beaver”? That is what I picture as the prototypical 1950’s American Family. There is a stay-at-home Mom, a Father that never misses breakfast or dinner, and two children that get caught up in mischief from time to time, all of which contributes to a happy and functional family. I liken that to Kenya now. The family unit is very strong here. There does not appear to be a huge problem with divorce or single-parent households. The children all seem to be very respectful of their elders and are home when the street-lights turn on. Instead of fast-food drive-thru’s, folks eat home-cooked meals. Instead of being glued to the television, folks sit and talk, do homework, and read books. And family is not just Mom/Dad, Brother/Sister but cousins, aunts, uncles, next-door neighbors, and the like. Everyone seems to work in a community to support each other. Of course, I could very well be shielded from the “dark” side, but in my interactions, all of the above appears to be true. I think the only thing I see that is similar in the States in youth is the cell phone. Passionately carried everywhere and constantly texting God knows who.
The things that make the United States great, in my opinion, are its people, ingenuity, and the 10 basic civil liberties guaranteed to everyone. Kenya has this too albeit without the Civil Liberties. They have something similar, but not quite close. An example, we were driving back from Watamu and got waved over by police twice…because they felt like it. I was stunned. The police were pulling people over looking for bribes, plain and simple. I told the driver that this would never happen in the States. The first time it happened, it would be splashed all over the news and heads would roll. He shrugged it off as normal and was not too concerned about it. Just about any time one is stopped, if one has enough cash on them, they can drive away. Every cop takes bribes here, period. It was explained to me that they have such an important job and get paid so very little that it is accepted. I sit here wondering what would happen if I got pulled over for speeding in the States and casually told the cop “…I do not want a ticket today, why don’t you just take this $20 and go on.”
The corruption goes on and up the ladder all the way to the top. Foreigners are amazed at this. Kenyans accept that corruption is a part of life. Sure, they would like to be rid of it but assume it is not practical. They compare the system to the one in the United States that is not corrupt. I laugh at this and acknowledge that they might be misled a bit. Sure, it is not out in the open in the States, but if one does not believe it exists, I have some great property in Kiberia to sell for KES 50 Million an acre. Kenyans are not aware of the corruption that exists in Western governments. They do not get the news regarding the powerful lobbyists, back-door deals for votes, massive government spending on pet projects, and HUGE travel budgets for our elected officials. Matter of fact, what Nancy Pelosi spent on her last “world trip” would fund the Kenyan Government for probably six months. The big difference here versus the States is that they try to hide it in the States, here it is a bartering system.
Freedom of the press is a big deal in both places. Although it is a joke in the States, here it is very hardcore. Folks who write the wrong stories…well they are absolutely allowed to but very well may end up dead in a ditch. In the States, the news media panders to the left for the most part and wields huge power in legislation, elections, and foreign policy. In Kenya, they are read, cause outrage, and the government continues on as usual. I guess it is the peoples knowing that true change can never occur here, and in the States a bunch of dumb-ass tree huggers believed it whole heartedly. Seems the Kenyan folks may be a bit smarter than the Americans in this respect. The press here is hard-hitting and has the people’s welfare in mind not seeming to run on a personal agenda. That is very refreshing to see that it still exists in the world.
I have written here in the past about the view of American Mzungu; have tons of money, owns everything in the world, and is a way to get ahead in life. Kenya counts on Mzungu dollars to float its economy. All the dollars that are spent every year on tourism, paying huge amounts of money to drive through the outskirts of town or fly across the country to see wild animals and also to see the coastal resorts along Kenya’s beaches, counts for a huge percentage of Kenya’s GDP. Kenyan’s are never exposed to anything other than the wealthy, top 5% of the American population (or British/Italian/German/French/Etc…) Kenyans stare in disbelief when I talk about the “other side of the tracks” in the States. Ghettos, gangs, drugs, prostitution, crime, rape…none of it are really reported here. They do not hear about the evening news in DFW that starts off every night with countless murders, arson, and various other atrocities. I am also pretty sure that Kenyans never hear of the huge middle-class of America that works hard every day, struggles to make ends meet, constantly oppressed by huge taxes paying for entitlements they will never see. Again, all they see are the rich folks that walk off the plane in their brand new “Columbia” or equivalent Safari Gear acting like the public should be beholden to them because of their status. I’m with the Kenyans, rich buttholes suck. However, I will take their money. Come to think of it, that was my business in DFW prior to coming here…I guess I am not that different after all.
I sit here on July 4th and do miss the States a bit. I miss the great medical facilities, awesome civil infrastructure (clean water, roads, telephony, electrical service, natural gas, transport systems), and a lot of the niceties I grew up accustomed to. I obviously miss my family a lot and friends too. However, in retrospect there are a lot of things, as mentioned above, that I do not miss at all. Just like Vincent said to Jules in “Pulp Fiction”…it’s the little differences.
Peace,
Dude
FBO
Does anyone remember “Leave it to Beaver”? That is what I picture as the prototypical 1950’s American Family. There is a stay-at-home Mom, a Father that never misses breakfast or dinner, and two children that get caught up in mischief from time to time, all of which contributes to a happy and functional family. I liken that to Kenya now. The family unit is very strong here. There does not appear to be a huge problem with divorce or single-parent households. The children all seem to be very respectful of their elders and are home when the street-lights turn on. Instead of fast-food drive-thru’s, folks eat home-cooked meals. Instead of being glued to the television, folks sit and talk, do homework, and read books. And family is not just Mom/Dad, Brother/Sister but cousins, aunts, uncles, next-door neighbors, and the like. Everyone seems to work in a community to support each other. Of course, I could very well be shielded from the “dark” side, but in my interactions, all of the above appears to be true. I think the only thing I see that is similar in the States in youth is the cell phone. Passionately carried everywhere and constantly texting God knows who.
The things that make the United States great, in my opinion, are its people, ingenuity, and the 10 basic civil liberties guaranteed to everyone. Kenya has this too albeit without the Civil Liberties. They have something similar, but not quite close. An example, we were driving back from Watamu and got waved over by police twice…because they felt like it. I was stunned. The police were pulling people over looking for bribes, plain and simple. I told the driver that this would never happen in the States. The first time it happened, it would be splashed all over the news and heads would roll. He shrugged it off as normal and was not too concerned about it. Just about any time one is stopped, if one has enough cash on them, they can drive away. Every cop takes bribes here, period. It was explained to me that they have such an important job and get paid so very little that it is accepted. I sit here wondering what would happen if I got pulled over for speeding in the States and casually told the cop “…I do not want a ticket today, why don’t you just take this $20 and go on.”
The corruption goes on and up the ladder all the way to the top. Foreigners are amazed at this. Kenyans accept that corruption is a part of life. Sure, they would like to be rid of it but assume it is not practical. They compare the system to the one in the United States that is not corrupt. I laugh at this and acknowledge that they might be misled a bit. Sure, it is not out in the open in the States, but if one does not believe it exists, I have some great property in Kiberia to sell for KES 50 Million an acre. Kenyans are not aware of the corruption that exists in Western governments. They do not get the news regarding the powerful lobbyists, back-door deals for votes, massive government spending on pet projects, and HUGE travel budgets for our elected officials. Matter of fact, what Nancy Pelosi spent on her last “world trip” would fund the Kenyan Government for probably six months. The big difference here versus the States is that they try to hide it in the States, here it is a bartering system.
Freedom of the press is a big deal in both places. Although it is a joke in the States, here it is very hardcore. Folks who write the wrong stories…well they are absolutely allowed to but very well may end up dead in a ditch. In the States, the news media panders to the left for the most part and wields huge power in legislation, elections, and foreign policy. In Kenya, they are read, cause outrage, and the government continues on as usual. I guess it is the peoples knowing that true change can never occur here, and in the States a bunch of dumb-ass tree huggers believed it whole heartedly. Seems the Kenyan folks may be a bit smarter than the Americans in this respect. The press here is hard-hitting and has the people’s welfare in mind not seeming to run on a personal agenda. That is very refreshing to see that it still exists in the world.
I have written here in the past about the view of American Mzungu; have tons of money, owns everything in the world, and is a way to get ahead in life. Kenya counts on Mzungu dollars to float its economy. All the dollars that are spent every year on tourism, paying huge amounts of money to drive through the outskirts of town or fly across the country to see wild animals and also to see the coastal resorts along Kenya’s beaches, counts for a huge percentage of Kenya’s GDP. Kenyan’s are never exposed to anything other than the wealthy, top 5% of the American population (or British/Italian/German/French/Etc…) Kenyans stare in disbelief when I talk about the “other side of the tracks” in the States. Ghettos, gangs, drugs, prostitution, crime, rape…none of it are really reported here. They do not hear about the evening news in DFW that starts off every night with countless murders, arson, and various other atrocities. I am also pretty sure that Kenyans never hear of the huge middle-class of America that works hard every day, struggles to make ends meet, constantly oppressed by huge taxes paying for entitlements they will never see. Again, all they see are the rich folks that walk off the plane in their brand new “Columbia” or equivalent Safari Gear acting like the public should be beholden to them because of their status. I’m with the Kenyans, rich buttholes suck. However, I will take their money. Come to think of it, that was my business in DFW prior to coming here…I guess I am not that different after all.
I sit here on July 4th and do miss the States a bit. I miss the great medical facilities, awesome civil infrastructure (clean water, roads, telephony, electrical service, natural gas, transport systems), and a lot of the niceties I grew up accustomed to. I obviously miss my family a lot and friends too. However, in retrospect there are a lot of things, as mentioned above, that I do not miss at all. Just like Vincent said to Jules in “Pulp Fiction”…it’s the little differences.
Peace,
Dude
FBO
Thursday, July 2, 2009
The Job Front
Back in Nairobi now and things are starting to look up. It was nice being at the coast for a few days but nice to be back home too!
One of the compelling reasons to move to Kenya was the job opportunities it presented for both me and my wife. My wife is an Internal Medicine physician. She specializes in really sick people…you do not want her to be your doctor because it means you are almost on your death bed. She primarily works in a hospital setting managing critically ill folks. Because there is a severe need for people with her education, training, and skills…it should be relatively easy for her to procure employment. Most Kenyans who become proficient in this type of field or another specialty will head off to the States or Europe where they can make a lot more money. For us, it is not about the money so much as an opportunity to feel good about the work we are doing. This is very empowering once one gets past the size of the paycheck.
My situation is a bit different. I have a BST in Automotive Technology. I have spent the better part of my life working within the General Motors Company as an Engineer, mostly specializing in telematics but also some service experience. After leaving Detroit for Dallas/Fort Worth, I started my own business selling and installing home theaters and audio systems. It was a really cool job, playing with toys most of the time and a challenge to run one’s own business. It is not nearly as easy as one might think. No person can understand until one has been there…something that makes me admire my Father all the more.
Anyhoo, because of my changing career paths and background, it was really difficult for me to find my niche in Dallas/Fort Worth. Because Detroit was/is taking a hardcore downward spiral, there were not a lot of options for me. I actually worked at Home Depot prior to my departure in the Electrical Department on a part-time basis. Was very easy work but taught me that I do not want to work in that capacity where idiots are in control of my destiny. Folks there thought they were saving the human race from cancer or something…really put themselves on a pedestal and all I could think was, “…jeeze, are you guys serious? This is an hourly job?!?!”
So, I had a couple of opportunities here in Kenya that I was excited about. One, is starting another Audio/Video company, which is in-progress. I have a first job doing work for a huge club in Nairobi that is two-levels and tons of tv’s, speakers, projectors, control systems, and the like. Once started there, I will have attained instant street-cred (something that is really hard to do no matter where you are) enabling me to market my services.
Another opportunity that looks like it is moving forward quickly is working on a construction project. A good friend of mine owns 5 acres of prime real estate in Karen. He has gotten the financing two days ago and is ready to turn it into a compound of homes. My capacity is planning and executing the infrastructure, build the homes, and manage the project. I am really excited about this one as I have experience from my business of working on home building projects and enjoy this type of work. May be a challenge working with Kenyans (differing work types than Americans) but one I am looking forward to.
The third opportunity is to work with another friend of mine who is the CEO of a ticket re-selling company. They are looking for assistance, on-continent, for the 2010 World Cup. Those of you not in the know, the World Cup is like 10 Super Bowls in one event. The entire world, sans USA, is obsessed with soccer and this is the granddaddy of them all. In addition, there is some interest in opening up a call-center of sorts in Nairobi due to the low wages and excellent infrastructure.
The surrounding problem is that I do not have a work permit for Kenya. That is a huge issue right now. Work permits are very expensive. One of the answers is to get an investor status Resident Permit, which is the way we are working right now. The downside is, I have to get a project up and running before my visitor’s visa runs out. That leaves me a little less than a month to get all this done. If it is not done, I have the option (hopefully) of extending my visitor’s visa another 60 days.
I have been here over a month now and am really excited to get to work. I am glad the construction project finally came to fruition but still have a few hurdles to overcome. I am also open to working, simultaneously; on the other two projects should the opportunity arise. I just want to work…period.
The next hurdle is to get my wife employment once she reaches. I have established some excellent contacts that will help her in this endeavor. That is the way Kenya works; who you know and who you pay. Actually, a pretty decent system…
Time will tell but the true measures of results are profits.
Peace,
Dude
FBO
One of the compelling reasons to move to Kenya was the job opportunities it presented for both me and my wife. My wife is an Internal Medicine physician. She specializes in really sick people…you do not want her to be your doctor because it means you are almost on your death bed. She primarily works in a hospital setting managing critically ill folks. Because there is a severe need for people with her education, training, and skills…it should be relatively easy for her to procure employment. Most Kenyans who become proficient in this type of field or another specialty will head off to the States or Europe where they can make a lot more money. For us, it is not about the money so much as an opportunity to feel good about the work we are doing. This is very empowering once one gets past the size of the paycheck.
My situation is a bit different. I have a BST in Automotive Technology. I have spent the better part of my life working within the General Motors Company as an Engineer, mostly specializing in telematics but also some service experience. After leaving Detroit for Dallas/Fort Worth, I started my own business selling and installing home theaters and audio systems. It was a really cool job, playing with toys most of the time and a challenge to run one’s own business. It is not nearly as easy as one might think. No person can understand until one has been there…something that makes me admire my Father all the more.
Anyhoo, because of my changing career paths and background, it was really difficult for me to find my niche in Dallas/Fort Worth. Because Detroit was/is taking a hardcore downward spiral, there were not a lot of options for me. I actually worked at Home Depot prior to my departure in the Electrical Department on a part-time basis. Was very easy work but taught me that I do not want to work in that capacity where idiots are in control of my destiny. Folks there thought they were saving the human race from cancer or something…really put themselves on a pedestal and all I could think was, “…jeeze, are you guys serious? This is an hourly job?!?!”
So, I had a couple of opportunities here in Kenya that I was excited about. One, is starting another Audio/Video company, which is in-progress. I have a first job doing work for a huge club in Nairobi that is two-levels and tons of tv’s, speakers, projectors, control systems, and the like. Once started there, I will have attained instant street-cred (something that is really hard to do no matter where you are) enabling me to market my services.
Another opportunity that looks like it is moving forward quickly is working on a construction project. A good friend of mine owns 5 acres of prime real estate in Karen. He has gotten the financing two days ago and is ready to turn it into a compound of homes. My capacity is planning and executing the infrastructure, build the homes, and manage the project. I am really excited about this one as I have experience from my business of working on home building projects and enjoy this type of work. May be a challenge working with Kenyans (differing work types than Americans) but one I am looking forward to.
The third opportunity is to work with another friend of mine who is the CEO of a ticket re-selling company. They are looking for assistance, on-continent, for the 2010 World Cup. Those of you not in the know, the World Cup is like 10 Super Bowls in one event. The entire world, sans USA, is obsessed with soccer and this is the granddaddy of them all. In addition, there is some interest in opening up a call-center of sorts in Nairobi due to the low wages and excellent infrastructure.
The surrounding problem is that I do not have a work permit for Kenya. That is a huge issue right now. Work permits are very expensive. One of the answers is to get an investor status Resident Permit, which is the way we are working right now. The downside is, I have to get a project up and running before my visitor’s visa runs out. That leaves me a little less than a month to get all this done. If it is not done, I have the option (hopefully) of extending my visitor’s visa another 60 days.
I have been here over a month now and am really excited to get to work. I am glad the construction project finally came to fruition but still have a few hurdles to overcome. I am also open to working, simultaneously; on the other two projects should the opportunity arise. I just want to work…period.
The next hurdle is to get my wife employment once she reaches. I have established some excellent contacts that will help her in this endeavor. That is the way Kenya works; who you know and who you pay. Actually, a pretty decent system…
Time will tell but the true measures of results are profits.
Peace,
Dude
FBO
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