What does one in a weekend in Kenya, usually not much special. As I am fairly lucky to have an apartment with a garden, we are not impaired for general necessary time outside in the green. This weekend Merijn had a birthday party of one of his classmates at t he NL school. During such an event the time is usually equally divided between trampolines and the swimming pool with some breaks with juggle, magicians and birthday cakes. This is always a good occasion to get some better contact with other parets. So I had a nice conversation with a mother of one of the small boys of Belgian and Bosnian parents who had lived in Jakarta, Angola among other places and where happy to return to Nairobi. That was Saturday. On Thursday I found a email for an invitation for a film evening at the ‘cafe des Arts’ on the opposite of the street of ICRAF, where spend most time herein Nairobi,. The film was called ‘Passion fruit’ as the Dutch Novel of Karel Glastra van Loon; Really Dutch, but one of the better I have seen so far. The dinner was really good and I came in closer contact with Else and one of her fairly close colleagues at the UN. of cause I have forgotten her name. And I was the only one dragging along her son, I am most getting used to be the only single mother in those kind of situations. Merijn brings his own PC with internet connection and is beyond the little space he needs nobodies problem. Al in all I guess 30 Dutch citizens where there. Not all were equally interested in the cinematographic entourage, but I guess equally happy.
The previous Saturday I had been at the Ngongroad to order a shoerack. As I was driving past the wrought iron workshop a week later I really could not remember where to stop, I called the number on the receipt and said I could not make it on Saturday and had to drive back on Sunday. Comparatively It was much more quite on the road and I had more time to find the work shop after making a U turn at the Ngong road without any Matatus capturing all my attention. So on-Sunday I were able to pick up a small shoe rack and place an order of an lovely bistro set for in the corner of our entrance. I received some funny looks of James but how could I know he was from the shop next to his. Competition is killing here too. Every 10 feet ( 3 meters) an other shop rules the side of the road. And for an outsider it is impossible to see where one stops and the next begins. Whatever you can draw on a piece of paper they can make in iron, wood and whatever you fancy. Generally they do not have a lot of creative escapades, but if you can tell them with a ruler and a piece of paper and a pencil they are able to copy whatever you might stumble on on internet. And yes it does cost more than the plastic garden chair I can buy in the shopping centre. But I really do not want plastic . I gladly pay 4 times more for real hand craft after my rudimentarily drawings with funny tulips as a re occurring ornament- Oh yes I am Dutch, And if you did not know I am a farmers daughter, a farmer that used to grow tulips among many other lovely flowers. Tulips make my back, knees and fingers hurt as I remembering it even today, and the lovely smell and the fantastic colours besides all the youngsters I met the days I usually was even younger than them. My parents never went on summer holiday to France or so,as I have heard was quite common when I was young. I worked in summer, when I was 16 I worked 5 days at my father’s farm, on Saturday at the Moving agency and on Sundays at the Rose filled green houses of Zuurbier in my tinny home town. And if there was any time left I went for a dive in the nearby lake called Hensbroekermeer. Last week I found out that there are some new kids at Merijns school with the sire name Zuurbier, and I bet they are close relatives of the rose greenhouse owners I worked when I was 16, 17. Their parent and I have went to the same primary school, even here in Nairobi the world ian’t that big.
The previous Saturday I had been at the Ngongroad to order a shoerack. As I was driving past the wrought iron workshop a week later I really could not remember where to stop, I called the number on the receipt and said I could not make it on Saturday and had to drive back on Sunday. Comparatively It was much more quite on the road and I had more time to find the work shop after making a U turn at the Ngong road without any Matatus capturing all my attention. So on-Sunday I were able to pick up a small shoe rack and place an order of an lovely bistro set for in the corner of our entrance. I received some funny looks of James but how could I know he was from the shop next to his. Competition is killing here too. Every 10 feet ( 3 meters) an other shop rules the side of the road. And for an outsider it is impossible to see where one stops and the next begins. Whatever you can draw on a piece of paper they can make in iron, wood and whatever you fancy. Generally they do not have a lot of creative escapades, but if you can tell them with a ruler and a piece of paper and a pencil they are able to copy whatever you might stumble on on internet. And yes it does cost more than the plastic garden chair I can buy in the shopping centre. But I really do not want plastic . I gladly pay 4 times more for real hand craft after my rudimentarily drawings with funny tulips as a re occurring ornament- Oh yes I am Dutch, And if you did not know I am a farmers daughter, a farmer that used to grow tulips among many other lovely flowers. Tulips make my back, knees and fingers hurt as I remembering it even today, and the lovely smell and the fantastic colours besides all the youngsters I met the days I usually was even younger than them. My parents never went on summer holiday to France or so,as I have heard was quite common when I was young. I worked in summer, when I was 16 I worked 5 days at my father’s farm, on Saturday at the Moving agency and on Sundays at the Rose filled green houses of Zuurbier in my tinny home town. And if there was any time left I went for a dive in the nearby lake called Hensbroekermeer. Last week I found out that there are some new kids at Merijns school with the sire name Zuurbier, and I bet they are close relatives of the rose greenhouse owners I worked when I was 16, 17. Their parent and I have went to the same primary school, even here in Nairobi the world ian’t that big.
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