Christmas in Kenya is - how do we say? - warm. Rather like Christmas in Arizona actually, but warmer and wetter. Sure, the shopping malls put up scraggly Christmas Trees and oddly coloured lights (Flourescent Blues and Purples instead of Green and Red?), and I even saw Holiday greetings in the windows of the "Swahili Delicacies" restaurant I frequent for lunch (which you'd expect to be an upstanding Muslim sort of establishment), but the general Christmas frenzy we're used to in the states just failed to appear.
But maybe that's because we don't have a TV, or a radio, or venture into Malls unless we want to see a movie [yes the "megaplex" has arrived in Kenyan malls too, but usually 4 screens is the max]. Despite our promises to the contrary - we did manage to get each other some presents for Christmas. Patience replaced by iconic "hat" which I had lost a few weeks earlier [IT WAS STOLEN AT A WEDDING!!! FROM A CHURCH PEW after I'd been commandeered to play the wedding march!!!!]. And I searched for a guitar for several days to give to Patience. In vain. Failing that, I got her a handwoven several-gallon bag made from bark fibers that she'd been eying.
[Do we have to mention that she was eyeing it ON Christmas Day, in my presence, before I got it for her? No, I think we'll leave that detail to ourselves...]
Anyway, I digress. The point is that we were finding it difficult to get into the Christmas spirit. So we made Toffee. Nothing like nearly burned sugar covered in chocolate and almond slivers to get you in a giving mood. All our neighbors are fancy bank execs who live behind hedges and gates, so we gave the toffee to their guards instead. And our guards, and housemates. We also put up our nativity set (see above, courtesy of our friend Joseph, who made it). And of course on Christmas morning we had a walk around the nearby arboretum and ate a breakfast of apples and Panetone bread (that's a Lanier tradition - the bread, not the Christmas walk).
We also paid homage to the venerable Lanier tradition of hosting a Herdegen for the holidays. Usually this happens at Thanksgiving, but seeing as how Siddhartha (last name Herdegen) has known Patience since she was in the womb and happened to be stationed in Bahrain for the holidays without his family, we were happy to host him (besides, he graciously treated us to some very delightful meals).
Along with Siddhartha, we spent Christmas at the Arboretum; sharing Christmas dinner with another history PhD student I met at the archive who grew up in Kenya and lives in what he describes as the "white enclave" of Gigiri; shopping for souvenirs at the few shops desperate enough to stay open on Christmas (let me tell you, Siddhartha MADE THEIR CHRISTMAS); and, because why not, an Indian restaurant for dinner. And since we're 8-10 hours ahead of our families in the states, all of this was before most of our family had finished opening their presents.
So, exhausted and dressed for bed we called up the Ray clan on Skype and observed the general mayhem that is the Ray home through the miracle called the Internet and called it a night shortly after Dad opened his present of Chain saw oil. Unfortunately calls to our other family members scattered across the globe were delayed a bit by various malfunctions and conflicting schedules. All in all, a very rewarding and enjoyable Christmas. But Next Year, caroling will definitely be in order.
But for now we leave you with a picture of the Ngong Hills, which was our Boxing Day activity. Oddly, it looks quite similar to the Shenandoah Valley, but not as steep, and with a few more sheep, and cows.
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