The Importance of being Irish

I've repeated the same joke too many times. What do Kenyan's call St Patrick Day. That's right, Tuesday. It was only slightly funny the first time I said it. On the evening of Paddy's I was out in the pub when my Mum called. All the family were lined up to talk to me. Mam, Matt, Katie, John, Mary, Dec, Jeanette and of course little Callum. They all had a great time in Cheltenham even though the family horse caught a cold and didn't run. Before I finally put down the phone we had left the pub, got in a taxi and arrived at Bobs "Irish Bar". The barmen had no idea it was Paddy's Day and looked on bemused as we got progressively more boisterous. I got home at some ungodly hour. As you can imagine work today was an absolute pleasure!

Meanwhile back in Bombolulu, the rains have started so I'm not losing my bodyweight in sweat everyday. Running around like a manmad at work hasn't helped. The months are passing and finally we are starting to work on integration information systems. The Production Tracking System (PTS), the product costing, the Product codings...it exciting stuff but I won't bore you the details. The Management meetings have been happening on a regular basis, which is good. I was even asked to say the prayer at one of them. I can't remember what I said but it seemed to be acceptable anyways.

Went over South side to Diani a few weeks back. Just relaxing on the beach and getting too much Sun. Big read head on me I had for the whole of the following week. You have to use the Likoni Ferry to get across to the south side, which is a far from charming experience. Someone tried to pickpocket me on the way over, and on the way back we were left waiting 30 minutes, in the soaring heat, before loading. We got off lightly though, as they often break down. Diani is well worth it though as the beaches are deadly and the atmosphere relaxed. Although, watch out for the Monkeys, one of the cheeky @&*! robbed a doughnut right out from under my nose!
I am fairly well integrated in Bombolulu life now and spend Sunday afternoon sitting with the locals, avoiding the local brews they are drinking, and greeting passersby and having the craic. I often get asked why I'm not married. It is almost unthinkable to be 35 and not married here. I have promised to bring my wife to Kenya when I find one.

Just outside the compound the first tented table is my fruit and veg Lady. I can only buy vegetables she doesn't have elsewhere. I tend to hide anything of that sort deep in my bag if I do, as I have to pass her on the way in. She did after all introduce me to Mango with pepper salt treat. A 5 bob wonder.

My Viasa supplier is the HR manager's wife. I buy off her when she is there. The pili pili (crushed tomato and chilies) is not as good at the other vendors. It has become a staple of my diet.
Have been seriously neglecting my blogging duties recently. Too busy living it to be writing it. Life is busy, but life is good.

Belated Happy St Patrick's Day to everyone!

M.

Cultural Learning

-----------------

Corruption in politics is a way of life in Kenya. There are usually numerous scandals on the go at any one time. Most ordinary Kenyan's are feed up to the teeth of it. Recently some protests turned ugly and all the volunteers re-familiarized themselves with VSO evacuation procedures. There is a very small chance that it may happen but sure there is no point worrying about it till it does. Take a look at http://www.nation.co.ke/. Every second story is about dodgey dealings. Some of them Fianna Fail boyos would do well out here.

St Patrick's night - Brendan (Canada), Alan and Seamus (Mayo), all volunteers with various organisations