For Ksh 8,000 that shoe better...

Because her birthday was coming up, she had to get those shoes. I knew nothing about it. Just as well, because they were quite expensive... damn expensive. So she bought em, and stored them in those corners of the wardrobe that we (men) cannot see. I have wardrobe-blindness; the shoe was red and I didn't see it, ever!

Birthday comes and the shoes are unleashed. Some shoe modelling is done around me and I am being asked to give a (positive) opinion about how they look. I said something safe like:

"I have never seen anything like them".

She was pretty excited and we talked about the shoe for a while. It was red, with effects... effects like that dirty jeans look that was catchy recently. I didn't know what to think. I am lost when it comes to women's shoes and style in general. Then I asked the question...

"How much did it cost?". Woi!!!

I was told that it was a self-birthday gift so cost wasnt the issue, etc., etc. y'know all that vibe about special day, once a year, bla bla bla. After this 20 minute explanation, I asked again bluntly,

"How much??"

She said, "Eight (cringe!) thousand"

I jumped! "Zim dollars? Tanzania Shillings???"

No dear reader, it was Kenya Shillings. Now, I know that shoes can even be 10K and I am a Nairobi cat born in Eastlands and growing up in Westlands so I know where to get Ksh 250 shoes to Ksh 8,000 ones. But in Kenya, Ksh 8,000 shoes and on the super high end. In fact, its almost illegal. For me, who has never bought shoes above like Ksh 1,500, its was quite criminal. But she is the wife, and it was her money, her birthday, insert the 20-minute-once-a-year-spoil-herself story here. Tsk!

Four months later and we are going out in style. I am in my Ksh 1,500 shoes bought in 2005 (3 years ago) and worn about 4 times a week feeling fresh sana. She is in her birthday shoe, yeah that Ksh (cringe!) 8,000 one, and... its the first time she is wearing to a place, ever. Now, again, I have my gisty and shady moments but.. I never buy anything and not wear the next day!! In fact I have lots of times bought shoes and clothes that I wear right from the shop! Anyway, its the wife, and she is going out in style.

We decide to get something to eat first at a local mall. We step out of the car and I notice she is walking slower than usual. I ask whats up and I am told:

"You are walking too fast, I have to get used to this new heel."

I snap back: "For Ksh 8,000 that shoe should be easy to .. ermm.. use."

She's like: "I cant walk too fast. You don't want me to fall over, do you?"

Me: "For Ksh 8,000 that shoe better have like a freaking air bag or something. Some shit like a rubber dinghy that pops out and breaks your fall when you lose balance!"

Wife: "Thats just harsh!"

Me: "Ksh 8,000 is harsh!"

We ate, walked (slowly) to car and hit the clubs! At some point in the night she says:

"You know, walking around and dancing is hard and painful in this heel, I need to rest my feet."

I went nuts! "For Ksh 8,000 those shoes better have a adjustable mode that turns em into a rubber shoe, a slipper or something soft like ngomas! How the hell do you spend colossal amounts of money on a shoe that you rarely wear, and when you do, it almost kills you!?"

Of course I was exaggerating; but I had a point somewhere, at least to myself and perhaps to the men who read this. To the ladies, well, all I can say is; its your Ksh 8,000 and your pain, keep it that way; we (the men) don't have to suffer for it. No foot-rubs tonight! For Ksh 8,000 that shoe better...

Thats all folks... Do you feel me?

Crazy 2004 Nights

2004: It was the year of Smirnoff Red Fridays at Sikiliza. One day we drove in Cybersn00p's bima to Red Friday from Karoake in Yaya... needless to say... being half day Friday, we were plastered from drinking at K1 from 2pm as we had our motis washed (Friday ritual) and drinking at Karoake from 8pm. So here we are in Sikiliza at 11pm.

Before you go on, let me inform you that this story has been posted specifically to attempt to explain Cybersn00p's car bashing ways. Read on...

So here we are in Sikiliza at 11pm....

We pay, we enter, we drink more, dance, etc.

3.30am: We leave the club, We manage to find the car in the parking lot. Now...just when u drive into VM, we were parked like 10 cars to the left. To leave, one must drive on left, do a turn and use a right road back to the gate; at the gate there's a small roundabt to take the exit gate

Lets just say that for us...at that particular moment... that was too much calculus. Being 6 or 7 cars away from the gate, we just wanted to reverse, turn towards the damn gate and drive on the wrong road (inbound traffic) and get out. That made mega-sense at the time. So we tried... well, Cybersn00p tried...

You know one of those extended landrovers that carry tourists, yeah those.. One was parked right opposite us (behind). Cybersn00p proceeded to back into it THREE times... three loud bangs!

By this time everyone in the carpark knew something was very wrong, except us of course. We had finally turned towards the gate (facing inbound traffic). The guards also were on full alert. They were heroes, they directed all traffic away from us, they stopped everyone; us guys just thought they were being super helpful...

We did 0-200kph to the gate 14 metres away and screeched in deep respect to return the security card, then zoomed off, Cybersn00p and The Samurai had left the building!!

I dunno what route we used, we ended up in Mobil Westlands (another ritual). We were doing 2kph looking for parking space when we saw some car getting out...Cybersn00p immediately hit reverse to allow it to get out so we can park.

CRASH!

We back up into a supped-up volkswagen beetle in a loud crunch. I got out in a flash. My aim was to inspect the damage but I met Mike..a 6ft tall and wide jungu who was doing biology research for his masters on some grant from the US. Mad pot-head but also mad genius.

Mike went, "Yooo Duuuude... Samuraiiiii man..." (very slowly)

I greeted him and we started talking. That's when the skinny VW driver came crying at us...shouting abt his VW. We turned angrily to face him and he almost fell down in fear... we were 2 huge guys asking him what the fuck he wanted.

He said we broke his spotlights.

We went to his car and inspected.. I fitted the spotlight back in by hand and said... FIXED!!!!

He didn't argue... He mumbled something abt checking if it still works and ran to switch it on. It worked!

I asked him if he had anything else to declare...he said no, everything was OK. He even hugged Cybersn00p in fear. He was terrified!

I turned to look for Pot-head Mike, he was in the back seat of the VW with two of skinny guy's ladies, offering then chicken from Mobil... and they were being quite responsive!! VW guy panicked and said he had to leave. Mike wiggled out of the back seat... and that problem was over.

We parked and went for chicken and fries. (another ritual).

The day I smoked weed and disappeared

The beauty of this story is that most of it is non-fictional.

Everyone remembers his or her first time? Maybe anyway... I remember mine. It was December 2000 in a hotel room in Mombasa. The perfect place to be for your first time.

We (The Eel and I) arrived at the hotel and in 10 minutes, we had found a worker that could hook us up with some. I learnt later that the golden rule is that: "Anywhere in the world, you are always up to a maximum of 15 minutes away from the next weed spot". I believe this. I learnt too that "we are only up to a maximum of six times removed from anyone else on earth". Which means George Bush and Osama bin Laden are not only related, but I am both their distant cousin (or nephew). This weed thing was exciting especially just because I knew I was about to get real naughty. We bought from the pusher worker and kept it safe until late in the evening. We would smoke by the pool.

Poolside, late in the evening: The Eel and I lit up one and basically wasted it. A few quick cautious puffs and its was over. We felt nothing. We had to re-try this shit! We had watched too many movies and listened to too many "indo" and reggae songs in our short lives to give up. We stepped up the smoking. We each lit a joint and proceeded to smoke slowly and hold down the puffs in our virgin lungs for maximum effect. Its started working! It felt good. A super weed song kicked into us simultaneously and we started singing. It was "Something About Mary" by Wyclef Jean... look it up. Its a true weed song. The effects were kicking in. After puffing and holding it down and singing, the Eel and I shared some mints for fresh breath and we headed to our respective rooms. One thing that hits you is how shitty weed can stink.

The Logical Devil and the Scared Angel:
In my room, I could feel myself floating, so I lay on the bed in a effort to counter this. Its seemed to work. Then I suddenly found myself contemplating whether Microsoft was justified to ship out Windows operating system with a pre-installed browser (Internet Explorer) or they should let me, the customer, choose my own, that way giving Netscape and the others a fighting chance. There was a huge lawsuit going on at the time. The weed in my system translated it to: "Do I buy salted peanuts, or do I buy peanuts and salt them how I want?" This debate ended and others with similar weed translations followed - weed gives you very interesting dimensions about things. I created two characters in my head and they took opposing sides of the debates. I later named these characters the logical devil and the scared angel.

Logical Devil: "Do you see the stars in the sky?"

Scared Angel: "Yes?..."

Logical Devil: "I think its God's salt.... and he is waiting to eat us!"

They debated on and on to the point of mental exhaustion. I was still lying there on the bed like a fallen mannequin while all these weed debates were going on. I decided to make a move or I was going to go nuts!

Logical Devil: "You can be overwhelmed; and you can be underwhelmed..."

Scared Angel: "Aha..."

Logical Devil: "Can you just be... whelmed?"

Scared Angel (after a looong pause of thought.....): "Maybe in England"

At this point the logical devil remembered watching Icecube in "Friday" going to the bathroom to wash his face to clear up his head. At that point "Friday" seemed to be a good movie to base my life decisions on. So I decided to do the same. If anyone thinks these movies add zero positive value, I am here blogging that they do have impact and value!

Scared Angel: "Go throw some water on your face and freshen up then sleep off the weed and wake up fresh."

Me: "Okay."

So I woke up, walked to the bathroom, turned on the light, walked to the sink, looked at my haggard self in the mirror, opened the tap, felt the water on my hands, lifted it to my face and splashed it all over the face to feel fresh... I snapped! Reality slapped me! I was... still in bed in the same fallen mannequin position! Shit! Had I hallucinated all that? It was sooo vivid. I remembered walking, turning on the lights, water on my hands!!

Logical Devil: "Take it easy, it was a hallucination, just a harmless fucking dream; now get up for real and go wash your face!"

Me: "Okay."

Scared Angel: "Hmm... Okay."

So I woke up.... walked to the bathroom.... turned on the light (again, and it came on), walked to the sink, looked at my haggard, mentally-exhausted self in the mirror (and saw my reflection), opened the tap, felt the water on my hands (beyond doubt I am in the bathroom, right?), lifted it to my face and splashed it all my countenance it to feel fresh (eh?)...

I snapped! Reality kicked me in the ass! I was... still in bed like the same fallen mannequin! The fan was above me and bed covers below me, and fucking pillows! Shit! I had hallucinated all that AGAIN? It was sooo vivid (again!). I remembered walking, turning on the lights, water on my hands!! SHIT! That was some harsh weed. I started panicking; I needed the weed outta the system real quick. The only way to start this was to freshen up and I wasn't even getting to the freaking bathroom!

Scared Angel: "Fuck! My life is ruined! I will be institutionalized!"

Me: "Why the fuck did I have to smoke!"

Logical Devil: "Both of you shut the fuck up! You hallucinated vividly, so what? You think you're the first one to smoke a joint? Get your black ass up and into the bathroom and quit crying like a little bitch!"

Me and Scared Angel: "Okay"

This time I took a huge breath, did some Yoga shit where I saw myself succeeding in my mind beforehand, then woke up....walked to the bathroom.... turned on the light (again, and it came on), walked to the sink, looked at my haggard self in the mirror (and saw my relection), did a little weed dance and waved at the reflection to make sure i was there... reflection responded correctly... opened the tap very very slowly, felt the water on my hands for a looong time before lifting it up... lifted it to my face, looked in the mirror JUST ONE MORE TIME to make sure!!!... and splashed all over it to feel fresh...

(... pause for dramatic effect...)

Reality kneed me in the groin. I was STILL on the fucking bed. Now that I tell this story its feels repetitive...but I was still there. SHIT!!!

Scared Angel: "I am soo scared. I think I am going to pee my pants. I am too young to go nuts, somebody take me to hospital!!!"

Me: "Shit, I am quivering in fear!"

Logical Devil: "You guys shut up and lemme think!... Okay, this is the plan..."

Me and Scared Angel were all ears.

Logical Devil: "You will get up, march to the damn bathroom but before you do anything, look back at the bed and make sure you don't see yourself there! If you see yourself still on the bed looking like a zombie, then you're freaking hallucinating again... okay???"

Me: "Yes, yes, great plan"

Scared Angel: "I have a question. What happens if we see ourselves on the bed? What should we do?"

Me: "Yes, yes, good question"

Logical Devil: "Simple! You will go over to yourself, wake yourself up, then ask the guy on the bed - yourself - if he can see you. If he cannot, you're freaking hallucinating again... okay???"

Me: "Yes, yes, brilliant!"

Scared Angel: "Hmmm... What if you wake him up and indeed he can see you? What the fuck does that mean? That there are now two of you in some new space time continuum, extra dimension sort of shit??"

Me: "Shit, I am getting scared again. Once again, why the fuck did I smoke this shit!! Lets just work with the assumption that he is not on the bed and we have really woken up this time."

Scared Angel: "Well, okay. But then again, what if he wasn't on the bed but we couldn't see our reflection in the mirror once we're in the bathroom?? Does that mean... Ohmigosh, does that mean that we have disappeared altogether??"

Me (crying like a little bitch): "I need my mummy!! Get me out of here!! I cannot be going nuts and disappear at the same time. Somebody help, heeelp!!!."

Logical Devil: "Quiet! Shut up and lemme think!! Just make a move. Wake up again and try... MOVE!!!"

I took many huge breaths, and made a move. At the bathroom door, I froze! I had to turn to look back at the bed. I didn't know what to expect... I was afraid either way. I turned very very slowly with the most perturbed look on my face.

THE BED WAS EMPTY! Great news; Woohoo!!

Now I had to make sure I had a reflection in the bathroom mirror. If you've been with me this far, I thank you for feeling my pain. A friend in weed (times) is a friend indeed. I moved super slowly towards the sink and the mirror. This time just to make sure, I was touching the walls, floor, etc. with my hands. Even poking myself with my finger to see if it went through. I was delirious. This was going to be my weed moment of truth.

I looked at the mirror...

THERE WAS NO REFLECTION!!!

My heart stopped, for a couple of seconds anyway. I thought I was going to pass out. I had.... DISAPPEARED! I started passing out...just as I was passing out... Snap! Reality hit me with a truck!

STILL ON THE DAMN BED!

By Road from Mombasa to Tanga via Lungalunga

Coming soon.. details of a rare and unique journey down the rural Kenyan South Coast from Mombasa to Lungalunga border and into Tanzania!

First Class Night Train to Mombasa (13 hour ride!)

Coming soon... Details about the exquisite first class night train from Nairobi to Mombasa, the suites, the dinner, breakfast and scenary.

The day I met Bruce Willis in Nairobi

Its true guys... and I wasn't alone. Was with most of my colleagues, and they saw him; they probably saw him first, but no one would approach him. We all weren't sure it was him. It was just an ordinary lunch time at Java Adams.

A film crew had taken a table in the sun. Their huge Toyota Landcruiser was parked next to the KPLC office... next to Java Adams. A figure emerged from the Landcruiser, black jeans shorts, black t-shirt, huge dark sunglasses and a black baseball hat almost pulled over the glasses. My colleague from the US shouted, "That's Bruce Willis!", we all turned to look. It was him! He walked to the film crew who were waiting for their food, talked to them, then walked back to the Landcruiser. It had to be him. Why the dark glasses and pulled baseball cap? Why not join the film crew for lunch or a coffee? why stay alone in the Landcruiser. He was reading a book. I bet his next movie would be from that novel and he was doing his homework.

Back at our table, we obviously hadn't seen enough to be sure. We thought it was him but had doubts. I hate small mysteries. I stood up and approached the vehicle. I was going make everything clear for everybody. My colleagues are all American, so they were all pretty excited. They watched me in anticipation.

I didnt go directly at the vehicle. I imagined a buff security guy kneeing and elbowing before my lunch. I wanted lunch first. So I walked way past the Landcruiser went 10 metres past it and turned back to it and walked super-slowly. He had opened a back window and was leaning on it, still reading his book. I approached that window.