Monday, October 11, 2010

Elephant Orphans

This weekend I went to the David Sheldrick Elephant Orphanage. They are only open to the public between 11am and 12pm for the baby elephant’s playtime. It was one of the most precious things I have ever seen. The elephants ran out to their play area and stole my heart. They began wrestling and climbing on top of each other. They looked like a bunch of really big, wrinkly, puppies playing in the mud. One little female elephant was my favorite. She was noticeably smaller than the rest of the elephant and just wanted to be included. She kept running up to the elephant like she was a little kid saying “play with me, play with me.” Unfortunately, if I tried to play with her she’d probably crush me.
The Beginning of Our Walk 
After watching the baby elephants play we decided to go to the animal orphanage. We thought it was only about a half hour walk so we decided to start walking down the street rather than wait for a matatu to come. We grossly misjudged the distance. It took us an hour and a half of walking in the sun, a stop for water, and another stop for directions until a white couple took pity on us and let us ride in their private matatu for the last leg of our journey. When we finally made it to our destination, we devoured lunch and then got our tickets for the animal orphanage.   

Monkeys!
    The park gave us a tour guide which I assumed was normal procedure until I realized that only white people had tour guides (the story of Kenya). I'm glad we had him though. He took us around to see cheetahs, lions, lion cubs, leopards, an ostrich and a lot of monkeys. He knew a little bit about each animal. He asked us if we wanted to pet the cheetahs. Of course I said yes. When else will I get the chance to pet cheetahs. He started making calls from his cell phone. We heard him ask a few people if we'd be allowed to. After all of his calls, he told us we could pet them if we paid the park ranger 500 Kenyan schillings (about $6) and paid each of the handlers a few hundred. At first I thought we had to pay them for the extra work they'd have to do but then I realized we'd be paying them to keep quite. Essentially, we'd have to bribe a handful of people. Although I would have loved a picture of me making friends with cheetahs, the thought of a CNN headline reading "AU Students Mauled to Death After Bribing Park Ranger to Enter Cheetah Cage" deterred me.   

         Despite our minor walking setback and being asked to bribe people, it was a truly wonderful day!

Creepers in Nairobi

Now- before I go on a rant about the sleaziness of men here I must first give a disclaimer- I am writing immediately after an encounter with a sleazy Nairobian male so I’m a bit biased right now. In addition to the many questionable men here, I have also meet some truly wonderful ones (but that’s not who this post is about).
Having a white girlfriend/wife seems to be some kind of status symbol. To some men, the color of your skin is more important than your personality or any other physical feature you have. For example- this morning I was walking to work and a man who called himself Peter Emmanuel introduced himself to me and decided to walk beside me for a ten minute portion my daily walk. Peter had rosary beads around his neck and a Bible in his hand as he told me he is on a mission to ‘save’ people through Jesus. He told me about all of his American and European missionary ‘friends’ and how he plans to go to the U.S. to preach the word of Jesus Christ.  He then looked at the fake pearls I have strung around my neck and told me they reminded him of his mother who always wore pearls and called them the ‘queen’s beads.’ The Royal Family is associated with money and colonialism so I figured this meant the conversation was going to lead to him asking me for money to get to the U.S.. However, it went in another very awkward direction.
Peter told me he was afraid to say hello to me because I am a white woman and he is an African and white women get nervous when African men approach them (which has some truth to it). But since we were now walking together it had to be “fate.” He told me he was not a threatening man and I could trust him because he lived “like a priest.” He said, “I do not have a girlfriend for sex and I pray every day.” How can you not trust someone who says that to you three minutes after meeting (insert sarcastic voice here)? Peter told me he was “saving” himself for the white woman he was going to marry and prayed to Mary every day to marry a white woman. Apparently Mary answered him one day and said if he continued to spread the word of Jesus Christ he would one day get his white wife. At this point I started getting really freaked out. Then he told me he had seen me in his dreams before as the woman he would marry one day. In my head I was thinking “run, run, run!!!” Thankfully we came to a point where we had to split ways. Peter shook my hand and told me we would meet again because it was ‘fate’ and then he would take me to church with him.
Although Peter asked for my contact information, I did not give it to him. I learned better after an encounter I had last week. On the way home from school, I got on a matatu. I paid no attention to the person sitting next to me until he introduced himself as Eugene. He started asking me all these questions about where I was from and what I was going to school for. Then he asked for my email address. I told him my boyfriend does not like when I give that information out to men. I considered this a polite way to say- I have no interest in you. Eugene completely ignored my statement and continued to talk to me. A few minutes later he saw the silver band I strategically placed on my left ring finger so I could tell creepy men that I was married (only about 50% care that I’m “married”). Since I had already told Eugene I had a boyfriend and not a husband I made up another story. I told him my boyfriend had given it to me as a “pre-engagement ring” since we were too young to get married. Anyone who has seen an episode of Teen Mom could believe that’s plausible. After I told him of my fake ‘pre-fiancĂ©’ he began asking me questions about my friend sitting next to me (the only other white girl on the matatu). Unfortunately, he quickly turned back to me again. He gave me his phone to type in my email. I figured it would be easier to give it to him instead of having him continue to ask me for it or worse yet- to ask for my phone number. Anyway, who actually emails people? Keep in mind we were stuck in traffic with nowhere to go. Eugene kept talking and then asked me for my phone number. I told him I didn’t know it since it was a new number assuming that would be the end of it. He then insisted I take his number. I went to get a piece of paper out of my bag so he could write it down and I could throw it out later but he saw my phone in my bag and insisted I put it in the phone. Like an idiot, I did. I figured I’d never have to call him and I wouldn’t have to be rude and refuse. After I put the number in he called himself from my phone (ultimate fail!).
Later that night, I received a text message from him saying good night to me. I didn’t respond. The next morning I had an email from him telling me how much he “enjoyed our time together” and that he would like to spend more time with me because I’m apparently “very interesting.”  Keep in mind we only spent about 20 minutes together because we were on the same matatu with no way to escape. Once again, I did not respond. He has called me at least twice a day since even though I have never answered the phone. A few days ago he sent me another text message asking what he had done to offend me. Although I was tempted to reply “YOU ARE CREEPY” I decided completely ignoring him was a better idea.
Peter’s statement that white women are often times nervous when approached by African men has truth to it (at least in my experience). But what do you expect when a good portion of men act like a bunch of creepers? Peter and Eugene would have no interest in me if I was just another black woman walking down the street. It’s sad that some men here don’t raise Kenyan women up on the same pedestal as white women. Now, like I said in the beginning of my rant, not all Kenyan men are major creepers. There are some truly wonderful ones but for every upstanding one there is a major creeper only a few feet away. I really want to ask one of these creepers what they hope to accomplish by being crazy. By making white women feel uncomfortable and threatened, they are not helping themselves find a white girl.