Well, I never really understood why ppl are eating easter eggs on easter weekend (as there are too many possible explanations), but this assortment here is just awesome.
Easter actually starts on sunday, but the bunny inside made such a noise that I got permission to open it in advance (hey, I asked!). And WOW what did I find inside?
Two beautifully painted eggs. Now that’s real love, ama? :-)
And, the best part: it reminds me of last year!
When it comes to shoes, dear Ladies & Gentleman, I am very much JKE.
I remember some 12 years ago, my classmates including the teacher (!) would laugh about me coz I was wearing leather shoes. Something like this, actually:
“You look like a business man”, they said, pointing at my shoes. “How can someone walk in such shoes?” – “Perfectly well”, I replied, knowing that soon they’d be wearing similar shoes. Those were the days when everyone was wearing Sneakers and guys used to have long hair. So rebellious, yeah!
One year later on, their hair was cut short, the guys in my class studied business administration and started wearing such shoes. “But do I say?”, I thought back then, “now look at you – who’s the business man now?”.
11 years fast forward, and I see myself selling my single-pantry-kitchen corner, including a fridge for something like 80,- EUR in order to buy this pair of shoes that really caught my attention:
ADIDAS Adi Racer Low (in a different colour, though..)
It was love at first sight. It was a good choice, because I had been rummaging through shoe shops in Bremen, Hamburg and Lüneburg for something like three weeks, and never had the “yeah, these are the ones – the one and only ones”-feeling. Upon seeing a reduced pair of black and white Adi Racer Low, I instantly bought them. And I am still wearing them today – even had them in Kenya with me and found another fake copy for sale at a BATA store in Nairobi the other day. Great shoes.
And this weekend, I bought another pair of sport shoes. Jogging shoes, actually, coz I urgently need to do more sports. Maybe it’s the age, maybe it’s sitting at a desk all day long that shortens the sinews behind my knees (ouch!) – but the point is: I ignored this “sports” nini for a long long …longlonglong time.
And here I am, with my new pairs of ASICS GEL-1110s. Really, I never knew walking in such shoes is such a blessing on tarmaced roads.
(= a.k.a. the REAL difference between the U.S.A. and Europe – just look at everyone’s shoes and you know where ppl are coming from. Ama? ;-)
“If blogging is your strength, then do that”, sista Kui told me some minutes ago. I told her about a message I had received this morning at 6 am which really disturbed me, and also relieved me to some extend. And that I would want to blog on it no matter what.
It’s about my father. My mum informed me this morning that my father had peacefully stopped breathing at about 3 am after a long illness we call Alzheimer’s disease.
“How are you feeling?”, people started asking me. Well, how am I supposed to feel? I don’t know. I know there is something inside that wants to break free and cry, and I feel this urge inside to put these emotions into words because that’s my way of expressing my feelings. It feels like there are a thousand words that describe the situation, and at the same time there is nothing left to say.
But I didn’t come here to tell you about my grief. I came here to tell you about a wonderful and positive experience I had this evening.
Right now I am staying at a friend’s place who’s running a children orphanage. Since everyone was kinda busy tonight, I was asked to take care of a little boy for a few hours. His 16year old mother had tried to abort him 2,5 years ago, and together with her mother and grandmother, they tried to get rid of him in a pit latrine after he had refused to die right after the abortion.
This very same boy is now very healthy and very smart. His joyful smile and vital way of learning new things showed me once again what life is all about. And it helped me a lot to let go and welcome new life. For me, meeting this young man showed me that I am the adult now, the 31year old dude who needs to get his own family and keep that life thing going. And I liked it. I am ready for it.
These days when life does strange things with you while you’re busy making other plans, it is good to close each day with a smile on your face and accept those things you can not change with some easiness that is driven by content from within.
—
Also, the older I become, I realize how much I resemble my father: his passion for arts, music, literature, antiques and other things. Heck, some of his older friends even tell me how much I look like him!
You see, he was about my age when he took up his first assignment in India in the mid 1960s as a German language teacher. Moving from Germany down to a chaotic New Delhi meant a lot during those days, but he somehow managed it, and it also shaped him in many ways. Some of his students are still keeping contact with us after all these years!
my father somewhere in India, 1966
And just like him, I decided to give up all these securities in Germany and move to Kenya with an uncertain future, taking into account that my father might die when I am abroad. It is this place here at this distance which allowed me to eventually think about a lot of things that happened in the past, how we used to take care of him and how he loved me and my sister, and especially my mum.
It is the distance between him and us due to this shitty Alzheimer’s disease that taught us a lot of things about family, love and being there for each other.
How am I supposed to feel grief inside if I keep on being remembered of the good things that came along with all this? Instead, it is this happiness inside that gives me the strength to keep on doing my thing in a way which somehow resembles his.
—
Talking about death, there’s one more thing I would like to mention: I told you about this funeral I’d been attending late last year somewhere in Mwingi district. During those 3 hours of a funeral service in a language I didn’t understand, where me and my colleagues where the guests of honour, I eventually realized the role death plays and how a funeral is regarded to be part of the culture here. At times when lots of people are dying before their age due to AIDS and other diseases, people have started to accept it being a part of their life. Contrary to a funeral in Germany, where everyone is dressed in dark clothes and just silent, this funeral in Mwingi included a choir singing warm songs and thus giving me, the outsider, an understanding of what this is all about. It made me realize that I am very much ready to accept these things and that I may just trust in my faith.
When I am going back to Germany now to attend his funeral and eventually finish my studies soon, I will try to export some of these spirits and remember how I was welcomed to this place I always considered my second home.
And to be honest, I have no idea when I will able to return and what this new year which has just started will have to offer. But at least I am not afraid anymore, and that’s a damn good feeling.
I quit church. Years ago.
The start of the ending came when the Government of the Federal Republic of Germany started to deduct 8% from my first salary. That’s the system there – the moment you officially state your confession, they take that amount from your income (before taxes!) and give it to the church. One of the reasons, btw, why so many ppl in Germany have quit church.
It wasn’t about the money though.
While as a child, I was always dragged along to church, to museums, uninteresting exhibitions and other stuff your parents do and of which they think it might have a positive and long lasting effect on you. I hated it. I hated being forced to do something, and I still hate being forced into a certain group. And I thought singing would be “uncool”. I couldn’t stand it. I was afraid of it.
I never needed that “group membership”. I never wanted to be part of any grouping or exclusive club. And neither did I ever become a member of a political party for the very same reason.
When my parents organized exhibitions, I prefered staying in the background, having a nice view on everything. I never wanted to be seated in the first row. I am shy, and this blog is one way of communicating my thoughts. People come here and read this because they want to – no one ever forced them. I believe in this freedom of choice. And there’s a reason why i rented my internet domain uhuru.de way back in 1999.
So today I went to church. Not to any church, but to one I had never been to before. I wanted to explore it, feel it, and feel the community spirit. And I liked it.
Very much.
It’s a catholic church.
My father is sick and old these days, and we have managed to organize a place for him at a catholic nursing home. This is the best place for him, and besides of my mum visting him every day, they are taking very good care of him. I like that. I like it how they actually put this charity as their first priority, and how they accepted him as part of their community.
The other day I had an argument with some friends on what makes you be a “real Christian”. Am I not a Christian in my heart when I don’t read the Bible frequently? Am I not a Christian when I don’t go to church and sing within a community? It was a strange discussion. On one hand these people who regularly worship their God with different liturgies, and on the other hand me, the lost soul who always opted to be the maverick.
I guess there’s no answer to this. Only, I never wanted to celebrate any rituals or liturgies, I never wanted to kiss the Bible or any other holy book to show my appreciation for any written wisdom or other rules that help to organize a society and keep it within a certain frame. It scares me. Weren’t we born with a brain so that we make use of it? Do I need any external guidance to show me a way on how to live my life?
When I went to church today, I felt the community spirit, and I even sang. It was this feeling that I missed. Singing is uncool? No. It’s just uncool trying to be cool all the time. And it’s nice to be among people who don’t give a damn about being shy – you just feel like to let it go. Being free, inside, where it matters.
Being at peace with yourself.
“committed to supporting Kenya’s environment”
Yeah, right.
Dear Bw Michael Joseph,
if you really want to support Kenya’s environment (yeah, the Mt Kenya fencing project is a good thing – restoring Kenya’s 5 water towers etc.), you better stop selling your “green cards” sealed in a plastic cover.
Also, I’d prefer if we could find an alternative material for these cards. Something like starch or even just maize leaves (!) that could do the job of being printed with (environmentally friendly) ink. After all, these cards just have a life expectancy of a few weeks, ama? Even better though: the electronical transfer of credit which doesn’t require any cards.Most consumers in Kenya and elsewhere just throw their used cards away and thereby pollute our environment. Now, instead of teaching them what to do with this waste, I suggest we instead give them biological material that dissolves / decomposes after use and remains as nutrients within the biological cycle.
Becos otherwise, the only good thing I can think of while being confronted with these cards is to stick them into one of my sketchbooks and modify them in a Dan Eldon way.
yours truly,
jke
I just couldn’t resist buying these water colours and wax crayons for use in my sketchbooks. 39 and 18 bob for this kitsch trash (Made in China) which fills me with a sense of serendipity.
Seriously, when was the last time you’ve bought wax crayons for yourself?
This one goes out to Astrid, Nina and dada Juliane. The July girls. :-)
…January,February,March,April,May I’m alive
June,July,August,September,October I’m alive
November,December,yah all through the winter,
I’m alive I’m alive
(“the calendar girl”, The Stars)
1. US-$ 320 million. Now THAT’S a lot of money.
2. I really miss my guitar(s) as mentioned earlier. Something that will sweeten up lonely evenings in Embu and/or make me play along to the One Man Guitar show next door which happens to entertain me every single evening. Btw, what do you call these big (kikuyu) country hats anyways?
On my way to work, I stopped by Nairobi’s oldest music shop Assanands on Moi Avenue and asked for cheap guitars. There are these pictured below which sell for about Ksh. 4.550 /= and are actually made somewhere in Western Kenya. The finish isn’t that nice, but they work and, again, they are MADE IN KENYA. Holadiho!
…and then of course there are some Made in China which sell for slightly more, around Ksh. 5.000/= and have a much better finish:
Now let me think about this investment.
3. Next door to Asanands is the “Bookpoint” – a very nice book shop for those books you won’t find in other places of the country. I came here to look for another copy of these Kikuyu-language books I bought earlier this year. They didn’t have them. But what they have is this:
An “English-Kikuyu , Kikuyu-English” dictionary for a horrendous price (Ksh. 500/=) – but since I’d been looking for something like this for a long long time, I invested my last money (hey, I am only left with the Matatu fare back home!) to get a copy. Now this is something I shall copy for Kui! :-)
Says the author, Gerald J. Wanjohi: “(…)..Here in Kenya we know that rural children quite often outdo their urban counterparts at the national exams. The latter have very little knowledge, if any, of indigenous African languages…..(…)….The aim of this small book is to help Gikuyu-speaking people love and learn their language along with their traditions.”
Mageria no mo mahota. (~ trying is succeeding)