Dead fish at Lake Naivasha

I bet you are all on the edge of your seats vis a vis the latest episode in Kenya's political soap drama. What seems to have happened is...not all that much. Raila got back from his overseas trip and failed to meet with Kibaki to discuss their differences. Yesterday they both attended the formal opening of the 4th session of Parliament. Kibaki made a speech etc etc etc. No MPs have been suspended so far. I will keep you updated if there is any further gossip or scandal.

To my mind, much more momentous news has been the mass poisoning of fish in Lake Naivasha. Apparently at the end of last week (Thursday) and after a couple of days of heavy rain, mature fish started bobbing up to the surface dead, apparently from suffocation. The Standard newspaper said,

'From afar they looked like hundreds of bubbles on the lake but a closer look revealed they were dead fish.'

Naivasha residents were warned against eating the fish and even the fish eagles and cormorants left the carcasses well alone. Tourist boat operators collected over 600 dead fish on Thursday and buried them on the shore.

Blame was immediately placed on the numerous (over 50) flower farms, who are currently being inspected by various Government ministries in the belief that run-off from the farms has caused the poisoning. Lab tests on the water itself are also underway. It has been common knowledge that the Lake itself has been degrading over recent years - but now that a catastrophe takes place, something is being done.

Yesterday a whole lot more immature fish floated dead to the surface around Hippo Point.

See the Standard online edition for more.

If visiting East Africa, get vaccinated!

A friend of mine in Nairobi has Hepatitis A. It's been a bit of a cautionary tale as far as vaccinations are concerned.

She is not the first person I have heard of to have it. In fact a little girl in my youngest daughter's class had it (she recovered quite quickly) and the husband of a friend (he rather shockingly walked around with a stick for ages afterwards). The problem is that the older you are the longer it can take to get over. While a lucky few might have mild or slight symptoms, others can take up to 9 months to get over it - which is most inconvenient for an adult, especially if you are self employed etc.

Another friend had Typhoid about 18 months ago. At this point I marched the entire family down to the clinic and began the process of topping up our vaccinations and diarising boosters.

What happened in this case was that my friend complained of flu like symptoms when I saw her. She was dosing herself up with Cold caps then blaming them when they didn't seem to help. I was sympathetic, but it's funny how you convince yourself that you can self diagnose (especially in this place).
She said, 'I think it's this flu thing that is going around. A few people I know have had it.'
and I said,
'Oh yes? Poor thing. Hope you get better soon.'

Unbeknownst to me she later progressed to vomiting and diarrhoea while her husband was away travelling. The local surgery diagnosed flu and gave her antibiotic injections. Finally she turned yellow, her husband returned and she eventually got to a hospital. The incubation of the illness can be two to six weeks and the yellowness comes after that.

The way I heard about her plight was that I sent her an sms saying 'can you come to our party? I haven't heard from you yet.' and she replied,
'I've been SOOO ill, I'm in Hospital so probably won't make it!!'
Needless to say I felt awful. Especially when she told me about the doctor sending her hoem saying she'll be fine and her 13 year old son who had to cope with a very sick mother and a younger sibling for a whole weekend!

The nasty thing is that there is no treatment for Hep A. Hospital can only give you a drip, make sure you are hydrated and give you plenty of rest. The disease attacks the liver specifically and your body must process the virus on its own. A fecal/oral transmission, it can be passed on through infected water or food - so pretty hard to dodge for even the most conscientious.

About 10 days ago I visited my friend in hospital and she had lost more than 5 kilos. She's a slip of a thing - a rake, one of those annoyingly slim types who never put on weight - so certainly cannot afford to lose any. She's probably lost loads more weight by now. When I popped in to see her at home to drop a ready-cooked meal or two I didn't see her, she was sleeping. Her recovery involves one month bed rest, a totally non-fat diet (how will she ever put the weight back on?) and no alcohol for at least 6 months. I have heard that milk thistle tablets are a good herbal/healing treatment for the liver.

All this can be avoided by a vaccination. The first covers you for four to six weeks, then the second booster given between 6 months to within one year will cover you for up to twenty years. The problem is that many people get the first jab then forget to go for the second. That happened to me when I first arrived in East Africa. Every time I was due for the booster I seemed to be pregnant, so put it off.

My friend's husband says today that she is recovering.... slowly. On the upside, I had a flash of inspiration and recommended the fabulous cook, Phillip, who turned up at my gate just before Christmas (see previous post). As chance would have it he rang me again yesterday - so I've passed on his details to my friend's husband and fingers crossed he will have a bit of work and also help them out of a tight spot. The problem is that my friend is a bit of a domestic goddess and so no one else in the house has a clue (or has ever really needed to know) how to cook.

I was telling Florence who works in our house all about Hep A and she said she wasn't vaccinated. I told her to visit a doctor or clinic and get the jab, but it turned out to be unavailable at the Kenyatta National Hospital and hugely expensive at the private clinics I know. In the end she rang me while I was away and I advised her to go ahead and got the first injection (Hep B was rolled in too) from a private clinic at the cost of 4,000 shillings! How could I quibble? I will need to go there and settle the bill in due course, which (to be brutally honest) is a little hard to swallow coming so swiftly after handing over said employee a sizeable loan - but there we go.

She also told me today about her brother who is a trained accountant with a degree who has been out of work for ages and is desperate enough to be looking for any kind of job now -messenger....anything. Living here it's like one step forward, two steps back....

Sneaky beach trip

I must admit, we snuck off for a few days. It was a crazy drive to the coast and back, two days driving three days there, but anyway it was worth it to see the palm trees, the white sand and the sea. We swam, snorkled, watched turtles being released, stayed in a hotel and stayed with lovely friends, ate far, far too much, got spoiled.

I loved going on our friends' boat for sundowners on the Mtwapa Creek and getting a guided tour of who all the houses belonged to over a glass of wine - while the best bit for the kids was probably jumping in the water and swimming around the boat in knickers - hoping not to encounter one of the rogue crocodiles that live in that stretch of water now.

I am pleased to report that our four year old's swimming (the armbands came off at xmas) has come on leaps and bounds - though we are not quite out of the woods yet. We still need to keep a keen eye on her, as her technique needs some work. She currently simulates the desperate movements of a person near drowning. Frantic arms, eyes and nose just barely peeping above the water.

The road is pretty good these days and if you leave Nairobi early enough (ie 6/7am) you can make it to Mombasa comfortably for lunch - if a little jaded and in need of a stretch. On the way down we stopped for one wee in the bush in Tsavo (petrol station loos are to be avoided at all costs) and on the way back none! At home, after fumbling with the door locks and dodging our over enthusiastic dogs, we all dashed into the house as fast as is humanly possible with legs crossed! I always monitor the kids' water intake in the car religiously (cruel), as there's nothing more disheartening than overtaking a stone lorry on a winding road, only to watch it rumbling past again when you pull over.

There are always lots of lorries on that Mba/Nbi road but when there are 5 of you, it's worth saving the cost of flights. We even managed to dodge the traffic police by some miracle and my husband always insists on doing the driving so it's a pretty easy ride for me.

There were a few reasons for going to the beach this time, but one highlight was to go to a 'proper' 40th party, complete with dj, a bigger disco ball than ours with proper spotlights, an actual dance floor, just as many fairy lights as ours - but all stylishly in white, covered chairs and tables with real table cloths, knives and forks, food that included not just salads but puddings! Proper plates (rather than paper), a NEMA certificate of approval for the party and more than 100 guests etc etc.

The party was great fun but it was hard to dodge the shot glasses that both host and hostess were offering around and a bit bewildering to be plunged into the long term residents' social scene. On meeting new people I tried my best not to slip into the default setting of discussing kids, schools and how long will we be here for? but failed rather miserably... I did talk to one lady who works for the rich and famous in Lamu. She said that a recent client insisted on not only flatscreen tvs but fireplaces in each bedroom?!
see Times article 'Kaftanistan': http://property.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/property/overseas/article7006992.ece

Lots of fellow guests said, 'Oooh Nairobi is so dangerous isn't it? While it has its faults and drives us nuts, at least you know where you are with Mombasa' and while agreeing tacitly - I didn't agree. I think it's all a matter of scale - there are more people in Nairobi. The traffic in Mombasa seems every bit as bad as Nairobi too. Our friend said he asked a traffic cop the other day what the problem was on the road up ahead.
'It's the British' the traffic guy said. Our friend looked quizzical so the cop went on, 'they didn't do a proper job of building this road fifty years ago - it's too small'.

At the party, we danced into the night, but kept our eye on our watches, mindful of the drive back the next day. When we left after 2am no one had landed up in the pool...yet, and the host had gone to bed, apparently having peaked too soon with the tequila bottle. His wife soldiered on.

At Christmas I lost a pair of Havaianas slim flipflops that I foolishly left on the beach while going for a dip in the sea and this time I lost one precious hoop earring after snorkling with the kids .... Will I never learn?! However I came back with a couple of new design kangas and some hematite bangles from Zaire (or that's what the beach vendor said anyway) - so all was not lost.

Unpacking salty clothes beckons and our washing machine is on the blink. Hey ho.

Kenyan politics is addictive

Kenyan politics is really addictive - at the moment it's even better than the Bold and the Beautiful!

On Valentines day Prime Minister Raila Odinga stepped in front of the press and suspended two MPs from Parliament for three month, pending investigations into corruption scandals falling within their remit. Gasp - action against corruption was taken - watch while we fall into a dead faint. After making his statement, Raila then jetted off to Japan (those State visits can be timed so perfectly!) News filtered out. The MPs protested bitterly saying Raila Odinga had no right to suspend them. There was jostling and even a little protesting. Then, when everybody had just had time to absorb the news, right after the 7pm evening news, President Mwai Kibaki made a press statement - he discounted the suspensions saying that his Prime Minister had acted outside his powers of authority. The two MPs were reinstated. Sigh.

The MPs in question were William Ruto, Agriculture minister who was/is coming under suspicion for his part in last year's maize scandal that not only cost the country 6bn shillings, but also forced up the price of Kenya's staple commodity in the midst of a drought. Kenyans had to pay up to three times the normal price for a bag of maize flour. As I understand it, the scam came about when Government realised that the federal reserves of grain had been depleted somehow and so had to fill the deficit in a drought by buying it in. The Government imported millions of sacks of grain to. The usual millers and distributors found they were not contracted to deal with the new imports, instead many well connected ghost companies 'cropped up' and became middle men, passing on the grain at exorbitant prices.

The second MP is Sam Ongeri, education minister - who had yet to account for millions of shillings missing from the Free Primary education fund (much of which was given by the British/Dfid).

It all started like this. In Kenya's Coalition Government, one time enemies Prime Minister Raila Odinga is from the ODM party and President Kibaki from PNU. Goes without saying, the situation between them is still dicey.

Late last year, when the education funds were revealed to be missing, Raila Odinga pointed the finger at Education Minister Sam Ongeri to account for the loss. Sam Ongeri is a PNU Minister. President Kibaki's PNU party got shirty about this and said words to the effect of,
'Before taking the splinter from my eye, try taking the plank from your own.'

Then, rather conveniently, findings from the investigation into last year's maize scandal were leaked to the press a department responsibility for this one fell within the ODM camp.
'Ha Ha' PNU said. 'Now talk to us about corruption and let's see what you are willing to do about it!'
Game, set, match - or so you might think

Now fortunately for Raila Odinga, former allay and right hand man Eldoret (East?) MP Agriculture minister has recently proved to be rather a thorn in the PM's side. Of late, William Ruto has been doing divisive things like sallying up to PNU ministers (like Uhuru Kenyatta) forming unlikely allegiances with the PNU camp and stirring up trouble for Raila in the powerful PNU Rift Valley area. William Ruto evidently has eyes on the 2012 election and thinks that he could be a contender.

This made the way clear for Raila Odinga to take a stand on corruption and suspend both ministers in one fell swoop.

William Ruto was particularly cross on Sunday and accused Odinga of politicising the 3 month suspension in pursuit of his own interests when there was not a stick of evidence against him. Don't forget, Ruto has friends in high places. Kibaki then overruled his own Prime Minister saying that he was not properly consulted about the suspensions.

To add the the confusion, VP Mudavadi asked for Kofi Annan (mediator in the 2007 election crisis) to come in once again and sort out this dispute. The BBC radio news asked 'will these latest developments rock the Coalition?' - or is this perhaps just another episode of the Bold and the Beautiful?

*in other news - have you heard that since three major cash in transit heists carried out by private security firm Group 4 Security (G4S)- the company is now more commonly known as 'Gone in 4 Seconds'.

*My parents were rather disappointed on a recent visit to the Amboseli game park, to be told on a game drive that 'there are no animals here'. In fact they saw lots of interesting things, but the plains game such as wilderbeest and zebra were noticable for their absence. In addition, desperate lions were troubling local villagers by eating their cows.
Last weekend the Kenya Wildlife Service stage managed the huge translocation of 4,000 Zebra and Wilderbeest from the Rift area to Amboseli in order to restock the park.

The party's over

Well, it all went well. We did it.. and no one got ill (except for the odd hangover, for example one friend swore blind that when he asked for gin and tonic he got tonic with gin and complained of a serious case of room spin later).

To go back to the the beginning. There was, I admit, a certain degree of stress when I decided, on a whim, to take all three girls for a haircut on the morning of the party, which took two hours, and by lunchtime the house still looked a mess. However, this was swiftly rectified by stuffing all floating stuff on surfaces (and there is a lot of this) into obliging drawers, then slamming them shut. Goodness knows how we will find anything in this house from now on.

Also, the day had been punctuated by various text messages sent from people who were letting us know that they weren't coming to the party after all.. even though they had previously accepted. While some were v. apologetic, others were a bit thin on excuses or didn't bother at all. I think we got 11 last minute drop-outs, but a friend warned me that its usual to have at least 10. Up until that point I hadn't believed her. I think that we had 55 guests all told, so not a bad turn out.

A very close friend who had asked if she could come early 'to help set up' revealed that she had an ulterior motive. She pulled a pink polo shirt from her bag, decorated with scanned family photos, the number 40 and two strategically placed hearts. Bless the birthday boy, he gamely wore it all evening, though the shirt did come up a little tight, forcing him to hold in his stomach for the duration. Unbeknownst to us, the same friend rushed around with her blue tack sticking up 'laminates' (laminated print out photos), to help etch into the guests' consciousness, images of my husband in awkward poses - such as when his swimming shorts split down the back whilst windsurfing (that one went into the downstairs loo!).

Guests trickled in rather slowly. Like a deranged woman, I feverishly herded them into one space near the entrance in order to look like there were enough guests to make a party. They all arrived raving about our shopping centre fairly lights and I must admit, it did all look pretty good - if a little OTT perhaps.

After 9 o'clock the one room that people were actually allowed in was rammed. I then started stressing that no one was eating the cheese, ham and 12 baguettes that were laid out further inside the house. I made my husband announce that there was food for all and predictably he was greeted by 'speech, speech, speech' from all the guests. He declined at this point, but made up for it later after having the benefit of 3-4 more beers....at which point he said,

'Um, my wife and my girls.... yes... I'm quite happy with them...' It sort of came out wrong and the guests exploded into laughter.

'Phew, That's lucky then!' the roared, 'Thank goodness for that!'

Anyway, going back; once we'd moved critical mass out of room no. one, I seized my chance to dim the lights, turn up the music and spin my £12.99 disco/mirror ball that I'd hefted back from England last summer (couldn't resist it). The ball drew a lot of admiration, but only after we'd figured out rather ingeniously (and last minute) that taping an extremely powerful torch to a standard lamp and shining it directly up at the thing, would have the desired twinkly/sparkly effect on the floor and the walls.

Soon, we had dancing! My husband's ipod dance play list was dispensed with almost immediately by guests eager to find their favourite tracks in his collection (this is the problem with doing a disco on the cheap! No fierce DJ fending people off the decks!). After they had lost interest with the ipod, trying to keep momentum going was very hard and a big responsibility. The only tracks that really worked as crowd pleasers were Cascada 'Evacuate the Dance Floor' and La Roux 'In for the Kill'. After we'd played these 5 times each, we lost the plot. Suffice to say that my husband's Billy Idol was a dance floor disaster and it was always going to be hard to coax people back after that one!

While listening to the radio this morning I kept having mini revelations like, why on earth did I forget Michael Jackson and what happened to Akon?

I am happy to report that there was no fighting (I'd written 'no fighting' on the invitation cards to those who came to our last one..fortunately they did laugh about that).

The TV also went on at one point when a select few males wanted to see the rugby results. Glad that they had chosen to come to the party and not persuaded their other halves to sit out the game in some pub, I said that watching TV was OK, but only if they'd eat lots of cheese and ham afterwards. They all looked sheepish.

At around midnight I remembered to cut the cake and by around 1am the battery for the disco ball torch was fading. 1.30am I remembered the 5 boxes of After Eights that I'd previously thought might be a good idea. By 2.30am my husband and I had shooed all the lagging guests down the garden to their waiting cars and we were lounging on an outside bench looking up at the stars feeling rather pleased with ourselves.

'The good thing is,' my husband said, 'SOOO many people owe us now!!' We giggled.

At that point one of our Alsatians trotted by, also rather pleased with herself, with the remaining half a ham in her mouth. I think that on balance it was a pretty good party.

Angst

The party arrangements are gathering pace. Wheels are in motion. We've started moving rubbish from rubbish filled rooms around the the house into emptier rooms in preparation.

A couple of things are worrying me:

1. The shopping centre lighting guy came over, an old Asian chap wearing baseball cap and sneaker's with a young guy who could have been his grandson. They were quite sweet but worried me when they started talking power supplies and started poking around in the kitchen fuse box. They also mooted the idea of red fairy lights for valentines. I'm ashamed to say, I balked. Wondered if guests would feel they were entering some sort of red light district?!

2. parking. This always worries me.

3. We plan to do the music DIY. My husband is working on his ipod play list as we speak, but has yet to buy more speaker cable or test out the dodgy amp that we vaguely remember fixing but can't be sure. We also have concerns about breaking 'excessive noise and vibration' NEMA laws which may solicit an unwanted visit by police mid flow.

4. Will there be dancing, if so where? You just can't force dancing - but it would be nice.

5. Am increasingly unable to make eye contact with various people who have not been invited. The school car park is a veritable mine field.

6. Costs spiralling out of control - now that we've got somebody to come in and do bar and bitings. I panicked that my ham and cheese would just not cut it.

7. We didn't invite our neighbours.


I also kind of messed up 'the actual birthday'. Somehow yesterday was stressful. My husband came home from work while I was making kids supper - never good timing - especially as for some bizarre reason I had decided on chicken pie with pastry (why??).
'No cake until after the kids have eaten' I snapped, so my husband sloped off for a snooze on the veranda sofa. Just has his eyes were closing my eldest nagged him about her science homework, hoping that in a weak moment he would give her examples of five things that dissolve in water off pat. Instead he got cross and shouted.

To top it off, the kids all rowed about lighting the birthday candles and picking chocolate drops off the cake so I bopped them all on the head crossly. The youngest burst into tears. We then had a snivelling rendition of 'happy birthday' after I'd coaxed my husband back to the dining table. He only got three rather lame presents as I'd given all the UK things saved up from the summer sales to him for Christmas. Of the birthday presents; he knew what two of them were and one of them had to go back to the shop to be changed.

'Please never be 40 again,' I said. 'It's all too much.' He looked downcast but I went on.. 'And not in February when we are always skint, and not in Kenya where there's nothing to buy you...'

As a tonic, we went out for dinner and ate & drank too much horrid house wine. After dropping the kids at the bus at 6.45am this morning, we went back to sleep for an hour. Things can only get better.

Julie and Julia - a blogger's luck

Who has seen the film Julie and Julia? My mum watched it on the plane and told me it was the best film she'd seen in ages. Eventually I got it from the pirate video rental place and have to agree - it was great and very funny in places. I watched it with my husband (he's a sucker for girly films fortunately).

For those that haven't seen it, it's about a blogger who hates her job but loves cooking, decided to work her way through Julia Child's huge cookbook, recipe by x524 recipes in 365 days and blog about it... Through this she gets the book deal, the film deal too. It's a lovely story and as much about the rather fascinating and resilient Julia Child as it is about the New York blogger.

My best bit was seeing Julia Child admiring herself and her sister in a long mirror just before a cocktail party.
'Not bad, not very bad!' says Julia Child before adding, 'but then not that good either' and both sisters burst out laughing.

I think both Amy Adams and Meryl Streep are brilliant, so it wasn't hard to see the appeal of the movie.

I do have just one teensy problem with it though.... I'm a blogger ergo, I'm jealous. It's terrible being this shallow. I am my own worst enemy but I just can't help it. I reckon that if we are honest, blogging brings out the nasty side in all of us - it's the old frustrated writer's naked ambition laid bare coupled with coping with the odd hurtful, mean old comments sent in from people who think you are expounding on endless rubbish (which if I'm honest again, I am). It usually touches on a raw nerve.

I challenge any blogger to post a comment saying that they are not in the least bit piqued by a fellow blogger's success. It's awful to admit but it's true. (or is it just me?). I imagine it's a bit like throwing a bunch of ambitious actors together. It gets bitchy. We all do it because we like writing and ultimately hope for a little more than writing for writing's sake.

When Julia Powell mentioned getting 54 comments on her 'killing the lobster' post, I prickled.
'54 comments! I've never had that many before,' I said to my husband. 'how come her blog got popular so quickly?' I think he stayed quiet.

We/my husband also particularly enjoyed the bit in the film that showed an argument going on between Julia and her other half that went along the lines of the husband saying,
'it's all about you and your xxxxing blog isn't it!'
At which my husband said heartily, 'Wow, I can relate to this!'

When Julia Powell got interviewed by the New York Times toward the end of the film, I thought, good for her! (Heck, my blog has been in the newspapers before, so it's OK for her's to make it too). But when, as a result of the NYT interview, I watched her answer machine go crazy with 36 messages from agents, publishers, film makers all gushing - I nearly had to leave the room. I swivelled round to my husband accusingly,
'is this film really true? They must have exaggerated this bit? Surely!! I know that the bit about Julia Child is true, but the Julia Powell bit must be made up isn't it?'
My husband, reading the back of the box says,
'No, says here, based on a true story'

You see, when my blog was quoted in the UK broadsheets, one single agent approach me (bless her). And after sweating blood for a few weeks and writing a proposal or two for her- (thanks for all your support family and friends!!), she told me politely that she might 'bow out' of the project this time. Sob. self indulgent sob.

Julia Powell is the same age as me (give or take) - started her blog one year before. She has now written two books and is asked to do countless other writing... Let's face it, she's a success.

What I think I'm going to do is take a deep breath, take the moral high ground and applaud her for being a better writer than any of us fellow bloggers aspiring to being published.

Then I will cry into my pillow and ask myself why I still bother.... (only joking!! - but doesn't it bug you too?!?)

Nerves

My 4 yr old daughter complains of anxiety when we approach the school gates.
'What's the matter?' I ask.
'It feels like I've swallowed a leaf.' she says.

Entertaining...

Have decided to blow caution to the wind and hold a party. To be honest we have reached the point where owe almost everybody we know. The problem is that living here in Africa, there is something rather distasteful about spending money or rather 'conspicuous consumption' when the huge majority struggle so hard to get food onto the table and do so with such a heroic, sunny, smiling outlook on life, taking each day as it comes. It's like at Christmas. I don't put the presents under the tree until Christmas eve when we are alone as a family for 48 hours. It's silly but I'm too embarrassed. To be honest, it niggles.

For instance, today I met our x.x.x.x. askari having agreed to pay his son's first term secondary school fees. Our friend was supposed to be earning by now but funding for his project 'Hope Life Foundation' in Kibera has been delayed yet again and he still waits to hear whether the AMREF job that he has been short listed for, will come through. I do believe that he was a bit gutted to have to come to us for help. We are all wishing and wishing that he would get on his feet and start earning, but at the same time, I have learned from bitter experience that delays are intrinsic to Kenyan life.

Initially you feel, 'OMG, we have just paid school fees and we're feeling skint too'. But then you think, 'but somehow we are going to pull a party out of the bag for my husband's 40th with booze and too much food and so how could I sleep at night thinking that I'd said no to 13,000 for somebody else's school fees.'

Then you think, 'actually, why aren't I paying school fees for the people who work full time in and around our house instead of this comparatively random guy? Probably I should, but then if I offer now, the floodgates will surely open.' And there we go. Round and round in circles. A party just seems so frivolous.

There's another thing. My track record on parties isn't exactly great. I think we've held 4 'grown up' parties in our eleven year married life - all spent in E Africa. (I guess that kids birthday tea parties don't exactly count here). Over that eleven years, the one thing I've learned is there is an art to giving good parties. The problem is that I have no grasp whatsoever on what that is.

1. Hosting the Hash House Harriers in Dar es Salaam. Rip roaring party but gave everybody food poisoning from my paella. Yes, ten years on and I'm still blushing. Paella was my brilliant idea as an alternative to spag bol, sausage and mash or curry -the usual Hash fare. In reality, doing something different was pure foolishness. Tried and tested formulas always work best. What really makes me cringe is the fact that people were coming back for more, saying how delicious it was. Extra bad, most of them were people that I didn't know very well at all. Owch. The next morning, my mobile phone was red hot with people ringing in.
'were you ill? were you ill? were you ill too?' I blamed the cheap prawns. (see previous post).
Goes without saying, my Hash career was shortlived. I did go back, but I think it took at least 6 months for anyone to feel brave enough to make a joke of it..... and this is the Hash we're talking about!!

2. House warming in Dar es Salaam. Most of the people who said they were definitely coming, didn't turn up. We made a huge space for a dance floor, got a DJ to come with lights and decks for our thirty (max) guests. I guess it was all dreadfully daunting for our scattered guests and honestly a bit too much. Again (and don't die when I tell you this!) the cook I hired to do the food this time (once bitten twice shy) poisoned the brave few people who came to the party with his prawn kebabs! Why did you serve prawns again? I hear you cry? In my defense, we lived on the beach... it was Dar es Salaam, what else was I going to give them? Oh goodness, reliving this is still agony!

3. Drinks party in the garden here in Nairobi. A mixed success. We got caterers but the fancy round tables were too spread out over the lawn. Not sure how many people came, but because it was all so spaced out it looked like hardly any at the busyest of times. We asked my friend, the kids entertainer, to come with his acrobats and fire-eaters as a form of entertainment. On this they certainly delivered.

One guest who arrived late said 'who was that guy in the car park with dreadlocks smoking a joint? Sorry but we wondered what sort of party this was going to be?'

The rather worse for wear acrobats then proceeded to jump through burning hoops, but kept knocking them over onto the dangerously dry grass. All of us mums who are pretty oh-fey with their usual routine, knew immediately that something was up as the men staggered about and beat their drums. No fatalities that time though.

4. Decided to pin down 40 invited guests for a sit down meal - rather than risk the numbers nightmare again. This time we made the mistake of serving 'Sea Breeze' cocktails beforehand, though I must admit, it worked well in getting the party going. We also had a dressing up theme 'Kenya Cowboys' which was a laugh. Lots of men in short khaki shorts with beaded belts and ladies in 1980s attire (puffy shirts/low slung belts etc.)

The caterers we had asked to come were, putting it politely, lacking direction (their boss was away travelling) and they only brought 12 bottles of wine for 40 people. This could have been a mixed blessing in retrospect, but in the event, most of our friends brought along bottles, so there was lots. Even the caterers were 4 sheets to the wind when they left, having half taken down the tent by midnight - I guess in an attempt to wrap the whole thing up. Oh, and there wasn't enough food to go round for the sit down dinner, which may have added to our woes. From a host's point of view, it was chaos.

After an hour or two, decorative candelabra were going flying in the garden as they got stumbled over, we had one moonie pulled over dinner during a 'best dressing-up' prize giving, we blew two of our own amplifiers whilst trying to do our own 'ipod' disco, somebody's phone got nicked and best of all a huge fight broke out in the bushes amongst a select few of our guests.

Suffice to say, a remaining memory is the sight of one guest with the back of his shirt ripped in two, trying desperately to shimmy over our metal gate as our bewildered night watchman ran after him, holding the guest's shoes in an attempt to return them.


5. Party to be held soon...

This time we're trying the drinks option again, but my idea is to try and centralise it in the house so that we are all squashed up inside and talking loudly over each other's heads like English drinks parties. This will save us the tent but of course is dependant on how many people actually show. We may end up shouting across echoing, empty spaces as usual. Who knows.

There is reason behind my maddness. Bar none, all parties in Kenya are held outside, in tents or on verandas. To pitch at a party, scantily clad, with no jumper or fleece stowed for wearing later, is utter suicide here. While the cold is an effective way to ensure that all of your guests have gone home at a reasonable hour (the chill factor gets to everybody in the end) this time I decided that I want to do something different.....hang on, I'm already on dangerous ground....

Wish me luck..... it might take me a year or two to pluck up the courage to tell you how it went....