The Donkey Dash - Everybody's Business in Lamu

It was hard for this sheltered suburbanite to watch the treatment of working animals in Lamu. Life in Africa is harsh, more often than not aimed at little more than survival and animals are functional, not pets. There is no doubt that my pampered cats wouldn't survive the culture shock should their next travel adventures include Lamu!

Having said that, the fishmonger was very kind to the flock of felines always gathered around his door. He and they have reached an agreement - they don't enter the shop until summoned in to accept the piscean scraps he saved for them, and he made sure there was enough for the gang.


So the Lamu cats are on a good wicket and shown kindliness. Donkeys, however, are clearly ranked somewhat lower on the affection scale and are regarded as beasts of burden.

There is something inherently sad about a donkey. AA Milne was spot on with poor, depressed Eeyore. Maybe it has something to do with the donkey design - dainty hooves, oversized ears, liquid eyes and a bony spine emblazoned with that cross...pathos personified.




In Lamu town, unfettered and resting donkeys sought out every available scrap of shade and gently dozed, enjoying a few moments of peace and rest, or nibbled hopefully at bits and pieces of litter. The rest stood patiently while enormous panniers were heavily loaded with many kilogrammes of coral blocks, cement, grain, even people before being slapped into motion under these mighty burdens. 

My frequent donkey photographic stops caused plenty of stares and often a conversation with passers-by. "It's a donkey, she's pregnant," was one memorable remark about a poor jenny whose bulging sides heaved in her efforts to draw breath into lungs obviously squashed beneath a soon-to-arrive foal. Donkeys lining the streets are such an integral part of daily life the locals don't notice them at all and they were pretty gobsmacked that someone would photograph them. A lot.

With this casual disinterest in the beasts so obvious, it was really interesting to watch a donkey break for freedom along the seafront one morning. A mad clatter of 16 hooves rang out on the paving stones, much louder than the yells of the young lad they were escaping from. To my complete astonishment, pedestrians in the path of the donkey dash put down their own parcels and stood in the way, arms outstretched. One man successfully grabbed the rope halter of one and calmly "tshush, tshush-ed" his captive while another pointed out the jetty access ramp that the other donkeys had also noticed and were veering towards. More helpful wranglers on the jetty positioned themselves in the way making frantic grabs for a bit of donkey and within minutes the poor animals were prisoners once more.

A telling incident about community bonding and helpfulness without pause for thought and another lesson from Africa.

Holiday with a conscience - making a difference

Choosing to holiday in Africa is a big decision -
- It generally involves an (expensive) long-haul flight,
- It's more difficult and costlier to get around once you arrive,
- Food and general hygiene and living conditions are often not what you are used to,
- Your senses and emotions will be at times be assaulted by overwhelming exposure to impoverishment,
- It is an expensive holiday compared to other destinations,
- Safety and security - we are all hyper-aware of unknown danger and travelling in strange countries makes us doubly so,
- Travel warnings - anxious to reduce any possible risk to their citizens, governments can overreact to incidents and condemn an entire country.

And herein lies the rub. Over the four years that Him Outdoors and I have been visiting Kenya, we've seen the tourist industry crash and burn after a couple of terror incidents in local taxi ranks and markets in north-east Kenya. Returning to Nairobi after a weekend in Mombasa one time, we were astounded by the jostling, noisy crowd of foreign tourists pushing their way to the check-in counters. There wasn't a seat to be had on any airline and lots of shouting ensued. Everyone wanted to get out of Mombasa NOW.

We immediately knew why the chaotic scene was playing out - the drive-by shooting at a local bar a few days previously, a bar we'd actually parked outside while in the queue for the ferry into Mombasa. A local man enjoying his Tusker was killed and this is very sad indeed but how did it affect hundreds of tourists holed up in their luxury beach hotels miles away?

Ditto the bomb in a mainland Lamu marketplace. Lamu is more than a town, an island and an archipelago, it is also a county, ie state or province, encompassing both islands and mainland. Lamu was splashed on front pages across the world and the tourist cancellations rolled in faster than high tide. The fact that tourists to Lamu were on an island many kilometres and a boat ride away from the mainland market, in absolutely no danger, didn't receive any airtime. 

No matter, Africa is dangerous, right? Let's not go there. And within months, hotels on the Mombasa coast began closing with estimates of 1500 people losing their jobs while the Lamu tourist industry ground to a halt. Understand that in Africa, a breadwinner is a highly valued member not only of his family but of his community. He/she supports up to 3 generations of a large extended family and is critical to the survival and education of his clan. When that income dries up, many suffer and no, social security isn't even a pipe dream in Africa. There is absolutely nothing coming in to the household.

Let's put a personal face on it, shall we? While in Malindi recently I made a quaint little restaurant my daily 'go-to' place where I spent time engaging with Lawrence the waiter. Lawrence has a sharp sense of humour and is filled with stories of days gone by and ideas for resurrecting the dead and buried Malindi tourist scene. Lawrence was once a receptionist at a hotel, considered by the community as a very prestigious job indeed. He was full of helpful suggestions for places to visit and recommended trustworthy guides and drivers if needed. He'd built up his contacts over his years of helping hotel guests make their local travel arrangements.

So what happened when Malindi, almost 300 kilometres away from Lamu and the same from Mombasa, suffered the collapse of foreign tourism? Lawrence's hotel closed and he was out of work. He considers himself blessed to have his restaurant job, spending long days on his feet and suffering rude customers (I watched one lady flatly refuse to stop smoking inside the tiny restaurant and be very rude to him regarding the wine he served), but it's a far cry from being a respected receptionist.

Lawrence waiting for customers

"Marketing!" He exclaims. "No-one is marketing Malindi and we don't have enough big hotels. The tourists don't come here anymore. Once, the high season was July to September and then end October to January. Now, we are lucky if we have a busy December."

Yet daily, Lawrence, the chef and the dishwasher don their crisp uniforms and diligently unlock the restaurant door. Tables are laid and cutlery shined then they sit down to wait for a customer. Usually, that was me, their solitary client for the lunch service, sometimes there would be a party of four for dinner.

There is little industry or agriculture in the area and Africa as a whole is heavily reliant on tourism so when that drains away, impoverishment and desperation rise - the scales are heavily loaded. 

Do your homework well but keep your commonsense wits about you when reading about African destinations. Big cities are big cities the world over, they are no more dangerous in Africa than anywhere else but what you will find throughout the continent are warm people eager to greet and engage with you and willing to help and get involved if needed. And for the love of all that is holy, Africa is a continent of 54 countries and over 1000 languages. It covers an enormous landmass so no, if there is Ebola in the Congo it doesn't affect your holiday in Cape Town! But you might want to watch out for Texas, more people have had Ebola there than in Kenya...

Your visit to Africa, to anywhere in Africa, has immense repercussions far beyond an annual vacation. It's a lifeline providing dignity and self-respect to hundreds of people reliant on the job created by tourism. Consider it a charitable contribution if you will, and smile while paying a premium for your holiday package. I promise you that you will gain so much more than the pain of a holiday that isn't as comfortable, perhaps, as you can get elsewhere. Here, your dollars make a difference to a descending ladder of dependants. Here, you find life that is real, energised and grounded. The breathtaking beauty, warm and friendly people, the timeless quality of cultural heritage will revitalise your soul and you'll take home so much more than memories and photographs.

Beaches with room!

  

Take nothing but photographs...and sometimes not even those

I've just enjoyed the most incredible few days on the island of Lamu, in Kenya. A UNESCO World Heritage town, this ancient Swahili settlement has preserved much of the old ways, skills and culture, a difficult task in our everchanging world.

It is interesting to me to reflect on people's differing responses to Lamu. Comments from 'you absolutely MUST go, the old Arabic influence is so beautiful' to 'Lamu was a big disappointment, just a lot of broken down old buildings' rang in my ears. 

Quite. Horse for courses indeed.

I fall into the 'if it's old it is to be treasured' brigade so Lamu and I got on famously and from my side it was love at first sight. Actually, I had fallen head over heels with the idea of Lamu years ago and a huge lump of emotion caught in my throat before the ferry boat from the airport across the channel to Lamu town had even cast off. It was absolutely, perfectly, exactly as my dreams, but better because it was real.

If you've ever contemplated visiting, do so now. The first boda boda motorbike taxis have arrived on the island and the seawall is no longer sufficient to keep technology and the millennium way of life at bay. A high tide of change is approaching, UNESCO site or not.





Chatting to some Aussies it was fab to find fellow travellers with the same ideals. They'd spent what they considered a wasted day at Shela, the gorgeous and romantic beach resort area just outside the old town. Screwing up their noses they firmly said that there is "nothing like the real grit of Africa, Shela is just too clean and modern." 

Those damn horses again...

Meanwhile, we embraced the Old Town complete with noise, donkey turds, less-than-aromatic aromas and nasty rubbish heaps partially hidden behind tumbledown walls. Oh, and the early morning, lunchtime and Friday chorus megaphoned from several majids! It has to be said, however, that we quickly picked up the different 'sermons' - one chap preached with fervent energy, brooking no argument. Another was poetic; I was entranced by his sing-song storytelling. A third seemed to be on repeat, the same or similar sounding phrases over and over. 






Somehow, the strangely elastic dimension of time over Lamu, which bends and stretches on top of and around rather than linearly, crept into the fibre of my soul. Everything happens slowly, bringing with it an ability to embrace and accept absolutely all as perfect.

Deep, soul sigh of contentment and wellbeing.   



Even my beloved hobby, photography, changed approach. I'm addicted to taking photos in an endeavour to capture and keep every slice of beauty that I see. Conversation over breakfast one morning debated the point of hiding behind a lens. As Oz No.1 said, someone has already taken that photo and he has now decided to be in the moment rather than fuss with snapping away. It's true my external hard drive bulges with thousands of images I don't even look at, typical of most camera happy people. But still...



After that, I consciously put the camera down, a lot, so as to better be right in that place at that time and yes, it was the right thing to do. 

Although hedging my bets, I set aside my last day strictly for photography and ambled up and down the narrow passages for hours, pausing often to photograph.             







Ending up in Mkunguni square in front of the Fort, it was time to spend an hour sitting on a stone bench watching Lamu going about its business before moving to the seafront and absorbing the action along there.


I do believe that I found a balance. Now to hold fast to that in future...