I have been to Nairobi a couple of times in the last few days. It has changed since I was last here in 2000. The city center is much cleaner, safer and generally spruced up. Even a working signal light. The new government, Joseph says. It was nice to see. Saw a lot of the old haunts: the Terminal hotel, Mama Savuka’s office, Uhuru park, and so on. The street kids and other “undesirables” have largely been moved downtown.One thing that hasn’t changed is the pollution. Seems like every vehicle belches out black diesel smoke. The million or so trucks that you nearly crash into in the roundabouts have thoughtfully positioned their unmuffled exhaust pipes on the side and at precisely car window level. We were stuck in an awful traffic mess caused when some streets were shut down because of the building that collapsed, and at times I thought we were following slow- swimming giant squid, plowing through the inky cloud while they tried to lose us.

Which reminds me. Nairobians are unimaginably adept at driving in traffic that would send even Californians running for a bus pass. It’s magical. It’s contrary to the law of physics about two things not being able to occupy the same space at the same time. It happens all the time here. I’m closer to the people in the cars next to me than I am to Tony in the front seat of my car. In the U.S. it’s like cars are bricks. Sharp edges, hard, self contained. Here cars are like fish, swimming in schools, fins touching, turning together as precisely and inexplicably as the ones on the DVDs they use to show how cool plasma TV pictures are. And in the midst of it is a guy straining at a two-wheeled cart with Buddha-like calm. It’s a good metaphor for a lot of things African seen from a western view; they’re different but they work.

Africa, it seems, is fraught with unexpected dangers for me. Today I was taking a handful, literally, of the supplements that I take everyday (thanks Pat and family), all of them large gel caps. Now, after a very slow post-treatment start where I couldn’t swallow anything, I consider my self something of an expert pill taker. Black diamond stuff. Only my brother Bob is better. Anyway, just as I took a swig of water, I coughed, rocketing one of the pills into the back door of my left nostril and wedging it tight there. I thought I was going down, but I managed to dislodge it and save myself from a very embarrassing end. God be praised.

And, we’re working hard on getting things squared away for the project. Making progress and getting the picture clearer. Thanks for your prayers. And if you’re reading this you have Charbel to thank (or blame) for his heroic effort in picking things up very late in the game and mounting a Red Sox ‘04-like late inning rally. And it will be completed soon. Asante sana, Charb.

Yours for improved pill taking safety,

David

Posted on January 26th, 2006 by david
Filed under: David's Journal