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Helen in Africa
I'm not really sure how to describe this last week. It has been significantly different to everything I have done during my time in Africa. It has been relaxing but I find it so difficult to not be busy without getting restless. I don't know why I always forget that.
We left on the overnight train on Friday night, which after spending nights trying to sleep upright on noisy, hot buses that break down was a great way to travel. We had a cabin to ourselves and I slept (horizontally) for about ten hours and woke up in sunny Mombasa feeling fresh and energetic. This was just as well as it took a Tuk Tuk a ferry and three Matatus to reach our destination at Diani beach. I am amazed at the Kenyan conducters ability to squeeze thirty people and ten bags into a Matatu with ten seats.
Anyway, we managed to find some simple beach huts that cost around 3 pounds per night. Diani is a relatively quiet place and the pace of life here is always slow and relaxed. The beach is heaven - a mass expanse of white powdery sand, palm trees and turquoise sea. We started each day drinking fresh coconut milk watching the fishermen on their dhows. There are none of the crammed sunloungers or oiled-up tourists of the Medditeranian resorts. There is simply space, peace and relaxation. All except for....the beach boys.
The beach boys are on the beach to sell you something. Whether it's bracelets, camel rides, ganga or eh, their company, every one of them will approach you, ask you the same questions again and again and say 'Hakuna Matata' at least five times. It can become very tiring when all you want to do is read your book and go swimming. What amazed me is how much business they actually get. There are a lot of German women who come to Diani looking for beach boys. I've never experienced women paying for sex before. There are a lot of prostitutes in Nairobi but here the sex industry is rife and everything is so out in the open. It's really not pretty. Older white men parade their pretty Kenyan companions 40 years their junior and it's the same for the women. They get paid the equivalent of about 2 pounds for an hour of their company with the hope of a few free meals as well.
So apart from the slightly disturbing atmosphere around Diani, we had a very relaxing 5 days. We spent our days swimming and snorkeling in the coral reefs and a couple of our evenings in the reggae bars or getting into the coastal spirit and smoking some weed on the beach with the Rastas or other backpackers. There were definitely some funny moments. It's definitely a much safer place than Nairobi but I did find myself getting a bit homesick for the city that has been my home for the last nine weeks. Unfortunately we didn't actually get a chance to see much of Mombasa itself as we didn't realize the train to Nairobi only left on alternate days. Lynn, I enquired about Utange and found out it was only about 20 km from Mombasa so we had planned to visit Alex but I promised Jayne I would help her do some mobilization for our final mobile clinic on Thursday so maybe next year I can go.
Thanks to a recent donation I am able to buy some medical supplies for the nurses for the mobile clinic, which will take place on Wednesday and Thursday. My last night in Africa will be in a tent under the stars in Masailand and I wouldn't have it any other way. It will be a good way to finish what has been a challenging and rewarding journey here. I will go and make the most of my last week and write once more before I go home.
x
ps. I'm sorry about the lack of photos. They take so long to load but I'll try and get some more up this week.
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