My Dinner in the Bin

After arriving in South Africa, for about a month, I lived in a hotel not far from Jan Smuts Airport. Then another ex-pat asked if I would like to take his rented house over, as he was returning to the UK.

I jumped at the chance and moved in about a week before they left, to get a feel for the place - and act as unpaid babysitter.

Then I was on my own. I still hadn't got used to the 7.30 start at the office, or the altitude and heat - although it was winter, the daytime temperature could rise to 28°C.

But, I was out of the hotel, I was free to do what I wanted, eat what I wanted. And I wanted cassoulet. I had all the ingredients so I set about soaking the beans for 24 hours and preparing everything else I needed, ready for the big cook-up the following evening.

So, the following evening, I started to make the most delicious meal I had ever had when I was living in France (each to their own). Everything was on the stove and I was very pleased with myself. I had prepared enough for that evening, and also for the two street kids I was looking after at weekends. It would be a real treat for them, I hoped.

I sat in the lounge and waited for my meal to cook - and fell asleep.

Now, do you know that smell of burnt meat, I don't mean singed around the edges, not BBQ burnt, I mean fully burnt right through to a cinder?

That's what woke me up. I sprang into the kitchen through a brown fog, opened all the windows and the door to try to dispel the odour. My maid, who lived in the compound rushed in.

"Devit, Devit! Dey being burn! Fire!"

I calmed her down (she had been caught up in some riots in a township and was a little anxious at the smell of burning flesh), and eventually sent her back to her room.

I had fish fingers for dinner that night.

That was a Wednesday. The cassoulet and the pans I was using ended up in the dustbin.

On Friday evening, the boys got to the house soon after I arrived.

"Ag man! Devid, what is this smell?" This from two township kids who live in an area where the smoke from the burners hangs around for days. It must have been really bad.

They were not amused when I told them that it was their dinner.

Kids and Curiosity

Sitting at a table outside a café in Kisii, I naturally become the centre of attention, especially for the kids walking home from school.

The bigger kids smile shyly and wave, the little ones stare, wide-eyed.

Some of the bigger kids encourage the smaller ones to come over and touch me. I hold my hand out so that they don't have to get too close to this weird, pale person sitting in the main street of their town.

Kisii, is not a major tourist area and as such is visited by very few Europeans or Americans, other than volunteer students, usually young and female, taking a gap year.

So, to see a mature white man in town is quite a sight.

It was the same in Komarock, a suburb to the east of Nairobi. As my hosts do not smoke, I took to sitting on the step outside their walled plot to have a cigarette.

At first, the local kids passed on the other side of the road. Then, some became braver and walked closer so that they could get a better look.

The ice was broken when I sat there with my digital camera. "Please, take my picture." "No, me, me, mimi!"

These kids live near the capital city, but many, especially the younger ones have never seen a white man, certainly not in their neighbourhood.

Watamu was different. Although it is still a small fishing village, because of the white sands protected by the reef, it has become a tourist attraction. There are many high-end hotels, run by Europeans. There are a lot of white people around. In the local supermarket, next to the Commissioner's office, European customers outnumber local residents.

People do not look twice when I am walking down the road, unless I am accompanied by my two step-children, Natasha and Ian, who are Kenyan.

It can be a bit disconcerting, being stared at, but I quickly realised that it is sheer curiosity - nothing sinister, just inquisitiveness - I can happily live with that.

Of Police, demonstrations, dying, etc.

This account may sound familiar.

There is an incident involving the deployment of a number of uniformed police officers. There are also various members of the public present; some violent offenders, some completely innocent and some, no doubt, able to switch either way depending upon how they feel or how much alcohol they have consumed, or what their cultural attitude to authority (specifically the police) might be.

During this incident, a man is pushed over and later dies of a heart attack. The man who pushed him over was trying to push him, of that there is no doubt. But he wasn’t trying to kill him. The Coroner declared that the victim died of natural causes and the perpetrator was never charged with anything even approaching manslaughter or murder.

Sound familiar?

Here is where the story changes dimension.

The national papers cover it as a factual piece, BBC News Websites give it a bit but not too much and national radio is almost silent over the issue. Almost no one howls for summary justice or a special enquiry. Do you know of this incident?

The dead man was PC Chris Roberts, the offender was Patrick Savage and it happened almost invisibly in Brinkburn Gardens, Edgware on Boxing Day 2007. At first, when initial reports flashed out on the wires that a policeman had died during an incident in London, the media ran it as “Breaking News!”. As soon as the circumstances became clear, they binned it pretty quickly.

H/T Inspector Gadget

And They Wonder Why We Complain ...

MPs rack up £1.4mn five-star free trips

Taxpayers are funding dozens of overseas “fact-finding” missions with many committee members staying in five-star hotels and flying first class.

Evening Standard - London

Backbench MPs racked up almost £1.4mn of free trips last year with a further £1mn of excursions already booked this year.

Full story on Gulf Times

What To Do ... ?

I have been planning to go out to Kenya immediately after Easter to get things started at the shamba.

But I have just received a text from my significant other, who lives in eastern Kenya. She has applied for a job with a Tanzanian company and has been "invited" to their headquarters for a few weeks. She is parking the kids with her sister and will be gone during the time I had intended being in Kenya.

Although my trips are mainly to work with KCIS and the Twiga home, I like to steal a few days to see my Sig. Other. I can't afford two trips in quick succession, so what do I do?

Either I go as planned but don't see my partner and kids (I haven't seen them for a year,now), or I put off my trip until the end of May so that I can see her, but putting off overdue work that really needs to get done now.

I am fresh out of ideas. I'll have to sleep on it.

Goodbye, Jade

So Jade Goody is no more. Her funeral took place yesterday, but apart from her immediate family, especially her two sons, she will not be missed.

I would have liked to have met Jade. OK, she came over as a thick, fat slob of a person, but she was a WYSIWYG*.

But, firstly, I don't think she was thick. She was certainly uneducated and ignorant. That was not her fault. It was the fault of the circumstances of her childhood and her education.

It struck me that all Jade wanted was to be loved. She finally achieved this when she was chosen as a competitor in Big Brother. She became an overnight celebrity, and loved every second of it. She had arrived. And she capitalised on it, but then blew it with her appearance in Celebrity Big Brother. She didn't even realise what she was doing to her "career". When she saw the footage after she emerged from the Big Brother house, she was shocked, ashamed.

She was not a racist. But, she let her mouth do the talking with little or no intervention from her brain. In effect, she was acting like the big kid that she still was.

She made great efforts to make amends, and succeeded. She entered the Indian version of Big Brother. And it was there that she learned that she had cancer. She was open about it, because that was the only way she knew how.

This is where her canniness came out. When she realised that she might not survive the illness, she made plans to ensure that her two beloved boys would be well looked after. She sold her story, her life, to the media. And she made a fortune.

Most people, when they find that they are likely to die, do not broadcast it, and certainly would not advertise it. But Jade was an in your face sort of person. Take it or leave it.

Many people, especially young women, took it. The number of cervical cancer tests increased as a direct result of the publicity surrounding Jabde's illness.

Theoretically, many lives will be saved because of Jade Goody.

There are many people with a worse epitaph.

*WYSIWYG = What You See Is What You Get

The Giant G20 Con Trick Is Unravelling

Peter Oborne has a very good analysis in the Mail today, exposing the G20 summit as a giant con trick. Here are a few extracts...

The biggest falsehood concerns the belief that the G20 nations have pioneered a $5trillion spending boost to global economies. Although Gordon Brown and President Obama had originally hoped to get world leaders to agree to such a 'fiscal stimulus', they actually failed to secure a single penny of extra government spending anywhere in the world.

Rather than admit defeat, however, they pretended they had won. So they invented the $5trillion figure. They arrived at the number by adding up the extra government borrowing expected to take place in G20 economies between 2008 (when the recession began) and 2010 (when world leaders hope it will end). It is a completely arbitrary figure.

The next fabrication concerns the claim that G20 leaders agreed a 'programme of support to restore credit, growth and jobs in the world economy' - worth some $1.1trillion. It was this headline-grabbing figure which caught everyone's imagination - yet sadly, it too is mainly a bogus number because much of the money had already been pledged in recent months.

Almost half of that $1.1trillion - some $500billion - takes the form of extra money for the International Monetary Fund to bail out countries that run into trouble during the economic downturn.

Although Gordon Brown brazenly asserted that this was new money, this is simply not true. Japan, for example, gave $100billion to the IMF last November, while the EU offered the same sum earlier this year. Admittedly, China did agree an extra $40billion last week. However, this contribution is very much less than Gordon Brown had hoped - and, most worryingly, indications emerged after the summit closed late on Thursday that the Chinese were having second thoughts.

Next, Gordon Brown claimed that some $250billion has been raised to regenerate world trade with the help of extra finance. Once again, his claim is an invention. Indeed, the small print of the G20 communique suggests only $3-4billion of new money has been committed, and the $250billion figure is only a vague pledge.

I fear that the more we look beneath the headlines of the London summit, the more its achievements look threadbare. I would estimate that no more than $250billion of the much vaunted $1.1trillion is genuinely new money. The true story is that Gordon Brown seems to have corralled fellow leaders into perpetrating a gigantic collective fraud on world public opinion.

Amid all the hoopla of Thursday's triumphant communique, it must be remembered that Gordon Brown has a long and disgraceful track record of this kind of bogus financial announcement. When he was Chancellor, many of his Budgets turned out to be contain fabrications.

This week's hubristic G20 communique reminds me vividly of Brown's notorious Comprehensive Spending Review of July 1998. Back then, Gordon Brown declared: 'On the 50th anniversary of the NHS, the Government will now make the biggest ever investment in its future.'

This announcement was given a euphoric reception by the media - only for it to emerge some time later that there was no extra spending and that the Chancellor had merely made the figures look huge by double and treble counting.

The problem with this kind of duplicity is that you always get caught out in the end. So will be the case with the G20 summit. Gordon Brown has achieved brilliant headlines in the short term, and it is likely that Labour's rating in the polls will soon start to rise as a result.

This week Gordon Brown and his fellow world leaders played cynically with the hopes and fears of these desperate people. They made promises they can't keep, made claims that they can never substantiate and triggered hopes that undoubtedly will soon be dashed.

The Prime Minister has won short-term plaudits, but over long haul his cheap and dishonest tactics will gravely damage the esteem in which politicians are held, and do great damage to his reputation.

Oborne's analysis is right. The con trick is unravelling and unravelling fast. Once the markets realise this, who knows what the consequences may be. Read the entire article HERE.

Computer, computers everywhere ...

I have not bought a new computer since 1994. That was a Intel 486-66 machine and it cost me the best part of £1,200!

Since then, having carried out many office clearances, I have always managed to keep myself relatively up-to-date by building PCs from the junk collected from others.

So, presently, I am running a home-built Tyan with an Intel Pentium-D 2.8GHz with 3 x 250GB SATA hard disks (OK, so I am greedy). I always have a second machine on the network so that if the Tyan crashes or is busy, I can continue to work.

The other day, a client asked if I could replace a hard disk that was threatening failure. This caused me to rummage through my "stock" to find one. At the same time, I had a look for a working PC that could be used by a pensioner who wanted to "have a go" on the Internet.

The result of my search revealed two partial computers, a home build and a faulty shop bought machine, both with 2GHz processors. Both machines accept SATA hard disks and both would be better than my No. 2 PC, if only I could get them to work.

So, that's what I am doing - trying to get them to work, finding various drivers for sound and video cards, etc. - it is not as easy as it used to be. Whereas I used to visit various sites and get the required software, now they all insist that I download DriverDetective, which tells me which drivers I need, and then try to charge me to download them. And paying for things is not in my psyche, as you may have gathered by now.

But, it will be worth it. I will have two PCs, both with at least 2 x 250GB drives in each, both capable of being RAIDed, so I am looking forward to never losing data again.

So, back to my pensioners. They seem to have been forgotten in the melée. I think I have unearthed a working 1GHz PC with W2K - that would do for one, but I am not having a lot of luck finding a replacement hard disk.

It Can Only Get Better Part III

I have just heard that down the road from our cyber café, which will soon have to close, another IT consultancy has shut up shop and ceased trading, and its premises are available.

We have put in a bid on the place. After all, people that go there expect to find a computer geek, so we hope that we will pick up custom from the previous trader.

We are also going to start a "college" for people who are terrifed of computers, as well as office services such as typing up documents and spreadsheets.

Oh well, here's hoping!

It can only get better (part II)

I have just heard from Vincent and he has found two premises, in the same town centre block, one on the 4th and one on the 5th floors. The higher we go the less we pay in rent. On that premise, I would be happy with something on the 10th floor, but it only goes up to 6th.

As we have proved that there are too many cyber cafés in Kisii to make any inroads, I have told him that we are changing direction slightly. We already offer computer repairs, configuration etc., and I want to introduce office services and IT tutoring (I taught IT to adult classes for several years in the UK and still have all the course notes).

Thankfully, Vincent is in agreement with the idea, so it looks like the week is improving.

And the kids are going to start clearing some of the land at the plot so we can start planting our crops.

We have a good supply of manure and I want to get a compost heap going as soon as possible.

I have to say I feel a lot more upbeat than I did this morning.

It can only get better ...

The day has started badly.

A couple of days ago, I installed a new hard drive in my laptop and installed Windows XP. Today, I tried to activate Windows and the registration process refused the key. So I had to phone Microsoft and go through their activation process, typing in a string of digits on the phone, then another string onto the PC.

I knocked my tobacco tin off the desk onto the floor wasting a lot of cigarette-making paraphernalia.

I spilled a cup of very hot tea onto my lap.

This, on top of the news of our pending eviction in Kisii (see previous post), and my week so far is not going well.

My man in Kisii, Vincent, thinks he has found new premises, but it is more outlay of scarce funds that I could do without. So, either I go to Kenya next month, or I send the money over to bail out the business.

My heart says go to Kenya, my head says bail out the business - why don't they ever agree?

I will have to make a decision very soon. My bag is more or less packed and ready to go.

OK, so it's now Thursday. Can the week get any worse? Probably, if I let it. So I am searching around the recesses of my head, looking for positive thought - something to cheer me up.

And what pops up?

A herd of giraffe serenely munching away at trees with thorns the length of my finger.

A little girl kissing a rhino.

A bunch of South African township kids mesmerised by the antics of meerkats frolicking not three metres away from them.

Stroking a cheetah.

A Maasai kid trying to separate his herd of goats from the zebra that have wandered into "his" patch.

Baboons sitting on rocks watching the traffic go by.

Flamingoes on Lake Nakuru.

Watching and listening to the kids at the Twiga Children's Home playing - for a couple of hours, without a care in the world.

There, I feel a lot better, now.

It never rains, but it pours

We have been given notice of eviction. At the Internet Café in Kisii, Kenya and we have to be out by the end of the month!

In this time of recession, and Kenya is affected as much as anywhere, our landlord has decided to pull down the building and build a tower block.

We have been offered other premises, it has to be said, better, more central premises. But there, they want one year's rent in advance - no chance of us finding that sort of money.

Kisii is a vibrant, bustling town. Commerce is thriving, so finding premises to rent at a price we can afford is virtually impossible. But my manager is on the case. If there is anything available, he will find it. But if there is nothing available within our price range, it could be the end of my first enterprise in Kenya, although the business is registered, and I have the certificate.

Of course, there is another course of action. We have the (dormant) business to export Kisii soapstone carvings. We had intended exporting in bulk, but we could sell individual items or small quantities. The problem is that the price soars as soapstone is very heavy. It is also very brittle, so we would have to increase the packaging, which again increases costs.

Maybe, fate (or something) is trying to tell me something. I am not a businessman, I am an engineer. Maybe I should keep my fingers out of enterprise and stick to designing and making things. But the idea of the cyber café was to give my friend, Vincent, an income so that he could then put more energy into looking after our kids at the Twiga Children's Home.

Why Kisii?

Kisii is a town, but also a District in the province of Nyanza, Kenya. It is situated in the SW of the country, in hilly country, mainly above 5,000 feet. Although it is only some 70km south of the Equator, the climate is pleasantly warm, around 25°C during the day and rarely drops below 15°C at night.

There is no rainy season as such. It can rain pretty much all year round, and the soil in the area is extremely fertile, except where it has been over-farmed.

The area was a coffee-growing area, but due to difficulties in receiving payment, the local farmers have reverted to subsistence crops.

The area also supports bananas, avocados, pineapples and other exotic fruits.

So, why have I made my base in Kisii town? I have been asked this many times, so it is about time to put the answer down "on paper".

First, I think it is necessary to explain briefly my connection to Africa.I was contracted to South Africa in 1989, during the apartheid era. I was politely asked to leave when the authorities found out I was too friendly with the ethnic population. I always wanted to go back to Africa, it had got under my skin.

Then, a few years ago, I was asked to manage the Rhino Ark website. Rhino Ark is a conservation charity in Kenya, so there it was, a (rather tenuous) connection to Africa.

A little later, I was contacted by ACIS, a Nairobi-based organisation, asking if I could supply cheap computers to schools in Kenya (I was, and still am a computer consultant in the UK). I couldn't help, but in conversation, I got roped into building them a website.

Soon afterwards, a children's home in Kisii contacted me, also looking for computers. Again, I offered to build them a website. We communicated regularly and became cyber friends.

Then, purely by chance, I met a rather pretty, intelligent, educated, Luyha lady over the Internet. She lives on the coast with her two children.

With all this going on, I was beginning to plan on going out to Kenya, which I finally managed in September 2007.

I was hosted by the director of the Nairobi-based organisation, who made me very welcome. He booked my coach to the coast so that I could meet up with my lady friend (that worked out rather well, by the way!).

On my return to Nairobi, I met people at WHO and KeNAAM. Then I arranged a trip out to Kisii to visit the children's home.

As soon as I arrived, I was "adopted" by a cute little boy, Josephat, who dubbed me his Baba Mzungu (hence the blog name). I met many of the kids, and was shown the plot where it was hoped the orphanage would be built.

I returned to the UK after a month in Kenya, and vowed to return as soon as possible.

I did, in March 2008, after a delay caused by the post-election troubles.

I went straight to Kisii, where I stayed for about 10 days as a guest of my friends Vincent and Abigael, the directors of the children's home. I made another vow. I wanted to work with Vincent and Abigael, in Kisii.

After another 10 days on the coast to see my "New family", I returned to Nairobi, where I stayed a further 10 days.

Upon my return to the UK, I started to work on the projects we had discussed.

Vincent and I eventually decided to form a new organisation, KCIS, of which we would both be directors, or trustees, and we would incorporate the children's home, renamed Twiga (giraffe in Swahili).

Vincent, Abigael and I are now ready to start the practical work that we have been planning for a year. We will turn the plot into a shamba (farm), where we will install the projects, grow food for the children, hopefully with a surplus that we can sell.

So, that is "Why Kisii?" Pure chance, if you believe in chance, or was I guided there?

The Matatu

When in Kenya, I tend to try to live Kenyan. I am there on a budget so I am not going to hire a car, and the only car I did have the use of was destroyed during last year's PEV.

So, it is public transport for me, usually matatu or shuttle, or coach, when going to the coast (because going to the coast is 'holiday').

Matatus and CitiBuses are fine to get from the suburbs into town. Mataus are 14 seater minibuses that run a specific route which is displayed by a hand-painted number badge in the windscreen. This is fine as long as you know where the routes go, not so good if you don't. You can always ask a tout. They are usually very helpful.

On a short matatu journey, it does not matter too much where you sit. Every seat is uncomfortable and these vehicles are usually packed with people and luggage, which can include livestock.

For longer journeys, there are the shuttles. These are 12-seaters and provide a non-stop service between far-flung towns, stopping only for a refreshment break.

When using shuttles, there are a few points I would make.

Firstly, there is fierce competition for your custom. Touts will guide you to their vehicle. Don't be bullied. At the very least, check the tyres and if possible, get a general idea of the state of the vehicle.

Shuttles do not leave until all seats have been filled. Having found one in reasonable condition, try to get a seat between the axles. The back seat is to be avoided at all costs, unless you like being bounced between the seat and the roof of the vehicle. Personally, I like second or third row, right window seat. If you are brave, you could sit up front, next to the driver. But in a head-on crash, front seat passengers are the first things that get hit. Avoid the seat over the engine. Six hours on that will cook your butt!

When travelling by matatu or shuttle, remember that fares are the premium for the driver and tout, and more journeys mean more fares. So they get to wher ethey are going to as quickly as possible - they have two speeds, stop and full speed.

And to give you an idea, I was once in a matatu during a driver change-over. The driver got out while the vehicle was still running and the new driver jumped in to take over. We lost about 3 seconds on the journey!

Also, don't be surprised if the vehicle breaks down en route. But don't worry. The tout will climb under the bus and usually get it going again.

That's a Rash Idea

My imagination has been running away with me - again!

OK, so the idea is this - I don't remember suffering a fever at the time ...

On our plot in Kisii, Kenya, there is a two-room hut, not a cottage, not a bungalow, a hut, made of sticks, stones and mud. At least the roof is corrugated steel. There are proper windows and doors, with security grilles.

There is a corridor running front to back between the two rooms with doors to the outside at both ends.

As the hut is built on the side of a hill, the back faces a small cliff and there is an open passageway running between the hut and this cliff. There is also a small appendage which could be used as a "kitchen".

So, my idea is ... to live there for a while ~ no electricity, no running water.

But, while I am there, I want to carry out some minor improvements.

First off, I will install water, with a tank on the cliff behind the hut, to give a head. This will supply an outside shower and maybe running water to the kitchen.

Second, a home-made portaloo. I want to use the waste to collect the methane, which will eventually power a generator and a water pump (there is a river at the bottom of the plot).

Then there is the land itself. On top of the cliff, the land is a lot flatter than in front of the hut. It is very fertile and I reckon, from memory, there is enough to grow crops to feed all the kids on the orphanage register, with some left over to sell.

A by-product of the methane production is fertiliser. This together with composting will keep the soil rich, which will be necessary as I want two or three crops a year - it rains all year round in Kisii.

Linking into these improvements, I will be experimenting with using the sun to warm water for washing, and water filtration and purification. I also seem to remember building a food cooler when I was at school - but that was in 19 - yes well, it was a long time ago.

To finish off the place, I will make a BBQ out of ½ an oil barrel, so that the kids can sample the delights of a burger or hot dog (you know the type, burnt on the outside, raw in the middle).

What I had forgotten when dreaming up all this is that I am approaching 60, I am not the fittest person in the world, and I am mildly disabled. Further, Kisii is at 5,700 feet and oxygen is a bit thin.

Still, it will be an experience and it will allow me to tinker with the project designs and get them to work to their best effect.

Wish me luck!

I Don't Get Sick ...

... very often. I cannot remember that last time I visited the medical centre other than to get anti-malaria pills etc.

But this week, I had to give in. Two or three weeks ago, I sneezed and promptly became deaf in one ear. I was not too concerned ~ it has happened before and cleared itself after a couple of days.

But this time, it hasn't. And on Wednesday morning I woke up to find my face was swollen and resembling a misshapen pumpkin - nothing new there then I hear someone retort - cheek.

So I trotted down to see a doctor, who confirmed that I had an abscess in my jaw. Brilliant.

I am now on a course of antibiotics to clear the abscess and hopefully the infection I have probably got in my ear. Cost? £7.30.

And then, of course, I will have to line up a visit to the dreaded dentist.

Oh well, it could be worse. At least I am in the UK at the moment. Although I have complete faith in the Kenyan health service, it is a question of the comfort of surroundings I am familiar with.

Power Cuts

It was about 7.30 last night. Both computers were humming contentedly, the TV was on and I was reading through emails, whilst keeping an eye on Twitter.

There was a flash and everything went dark - power-cut. After 15 seconds, everything came back on and I was just reaching the power button on computer 1, when the power cut again. This went on for about 3 or 4 minutes before it want altogether.

OK, nothing for it but to find the torch (always at hand), then dig out the paraffin lamp and candles.

Having restored some level of light, the old Calor stove was retrieved and I started a brew - after all, what else is there to do, other than drink tea?

We were without electricity for about 2½ hours - not too bad.

When it was restored, I reset the clocks and re-booted the computers. They fired up without complaint, thankfully. So I made another brew.

Brew made, I sat at the computers to continue checking the latest mail - when the power went out again.

So I reached for the torch, re-lit the candles and paraffin lamp, etc ...

This outage was for only about 45 minutes, but when I re-booted PC1, it complained by taking an absolute age to get through its self-check procedure. In the end, it sprang back into life.

I re-set the clocks, put away the candles and paraffin lamp. The power stayed on and we haven't had another outage since.

And no, this was not in Kenya, this was 50 miles from London, UK.

How is it that in the 21st Century, 50 miles from London we still get regular power outages?

Fruit 'n Veg

When I have been in Kisii, fruit and vegetables were always in abundance, for sale in small stalls or stacked on blankets all along the Rongo-Kisii road, in the open market, in fact anywhere someone could set up a stall.

However, having been indoctrinated in the buy-everything-in-one-shop mentality of most Brits, if I was in the local supermarket, I would go through the fresh food department, only to find two or three shriveled carrots, a moldy mango, no sukuma, and little else.

It soon struck me that if I wanted fresh fruit and veg, I had to get it outside. But, buying from these stalls along the side of the road, so close to the road, where overloaded lorries laboured up the hill, belching out black, choking diesel fumes all over the wares, was very off-putting.

Venturing into the open market by myself was also a little daunting.

Don't get me wrong. I don't feel threatened in Kisii, or anywhere else in Kenya, but I am aware of pick-pockets, and I have been accosted more than once by people asking for handouts, sometimes quite forcefully. So I only venture into the market when accompanied by a friend (or two!)

So why do the supermarkets have such a poor selection and quality of vegetables and fruit? It's not rocket science. I guess they can't compete with the stall-holders. It is just not worth their while to stock quantities of the stuff. After all, right outside, there is a stall selling mangoes, pineapples, apples, bananas, as well as various fresh herbs and spices - no contest.

Thinking about it, most fruit comes well wrapped in its own skin. Once peeled, with a bit of luck, they are just as wholesome as the sterilised, force-ripened, over-priced junk we buy from our supermarkets in the UK.

And we have fruit on our plot. This is well away from the main road. The soil around Kisii is very fertile and of course, it rains all year round, so growing two or even three crops a year should not be impossible.

There is nothing better than fruit ripened on the tree. I am always disappointed when I get back home and tuck into a regulation straight banana that was cropped green and ripened on its way to the UK. They are tasteless.

We have avocados growing on the plot as well. The problem is that I have yet to meet anyone in Kisii that knows what to do with them! Maybe I should ship Jamie Oliver, HFW or AWT over there - or how about Steve and Dave, the Hairy Bikers? They would know what to do with a tree-full of avocados- and enjoy the ride as well.

Food - for thought

Interesting Point of View

KCIS has recently posted a blog, asking for donations to get a project off the ground, and it brought an interesting comment from a Kenyan, apparently in the town where we are based, Kisii.

"I could give you a donation, but I'm opposed to this kind of aid, because it encourages dependency and entreches the aid industry. Poor people don't exist in Africa so Westerners can get an opportunity to "help" them and feel good about themselves."

I could not agree more that poor people in Africa are not just "feel good" toys for Westerners, and it made me think long and hard about what I am doing, and why.

1. KCIS is run mainly by Kenyans, I am the only non-Kenyan in the organisation.
2. Second, I was asked to join the organisation. The other directors, both Gusii, asked me to join their efforts to help them to offer shelter to the children in their care. They were my friends before I started to work with KCIS.
   
3. My main role is to raise awareness of KCIS in the developed world, and to try to raise funds for the organisation.
4. As a mechanical engineer, I have designed systems that can be built for little money, that will improve the lives of the poorest families, those who have lost the bread-winner and are literally scraping a living. These people do not have the time to worry about building a safe water system. They are too busy surviving.

OK, that's what I do. So the next question is why?

Do I do it so that I get plaudits from people, either in Kenya or here at home? Definitely not.

Do I do it so that the kids at our home treat me like a demi-God? Again, no. I like the kids and they like me. Why? Because I am friendly towards them, and probably there is the curiosity factor. My skin is the colour of a plucked chicken, theirs is dark. My hair, what little i have left, it straight and soft to the touch, theirs is black, curly and course. So, especailly to the little ones, I am odd.

So, why do I do it, why do I work for a Kenyan organisation?

I like the people. I like the country. I like the climate. In other circumstances, I would be living in Kenya. But that's another story.

It also gives an outlet for my low-tech approach to engineering. If people can benefit from my possible solutions to their problems, why shouldn't they?

I am not offended by the comment in the KCIS post. It did make me wonder, but now, in my own mind, I plead "Not Guilty".

Beware SATA

Not too long ago, I built a "new" computer (see previous two posts) from other people's scrap. It included something new to me, SATA hard drive interfaces. 'Fine,' I thought. 'I can cope with this new technology.' And I did.

However, I have found that the SATA data and power sockets and plugs are not as robust as the old IDE types. My new computer is still flaky and doesn't always boot up - I have found the reason.

The power plug to the boot drive (C:\) is cracked and although it delivers enough for the drive to be recognised at boot-up, the drive cannot be read!

Fiddling about with the plug into the drive allows the machine to boot up correctly, but I am now wary about even touching the tower in case I dislodge the power cable to the drive again.

I know that an IDE to SATA power adapter is available. I guess this is going to be my next move.