No "stripper pole"

No “stripper pole” nor bloodstain, just bars on the windows

So February 23-24, 2009 me of you have heard that Bay was relieved when she saw our hotel room here in Jamaica (no, not THAT Jamaica) - there was no “stripper pole” in the middle of the room, and she couldn’t find any bloodstains on the floor from a recent murder, as she found when, 2 years ago, we stayed at the Skyview Hotel (actually the only hotel in NYC without a view of the sky). Of course, here we have bars on our windows, we are in the basement, people walking by on the sidewalk can look into our room, and there was a shootout this morning at the Best Western nearby as we learned from the news on TV. On the bright side, it is a flatscreen TV. Life is good. And when the shuttle van pulled up to take us to the airport, it said “Holiday Inn Express, Best Western” but I didn’t see any bullet holes.

Big Papi’s friend

Arriving at the airport 7 hours before the scheduled departure calmed me down, and a visit from Toby helped pass the time. He looked good although his loss of a job has depressed him so spread the word, Toby needs a job and would make someone a very good lawyer (how’s that for networking, Toby?). The check-in started at 2:30 for a 6:15 departure and we were in the first 6 in line. We were unable to get exit row seating but the attendant changed my seat and assured me I would have “all that room” pointing at her computer screen showing me plenty of room in front of my seat. But when we boarded the A330, it turned out that seat 25B had the same lack of room as all the other seats and all the “room” on her computer screen was the bathroom across the aisle from me. A large man came up and said he had seat 25A beside me, but seeing how I was crammed in the seat, he took the seat in front of me. A few minutes later, he was thrown out of that seat so he came and sat beside me. We started talking - he was on his way to Zurich (pronouncing the “h”) because his sister had just died there of cancer. His mother had flown over, rented a car and driven to the hospital to find her daughter already deceased, and he was flying over to be with his mother. He had a soft smile and kind eyes, and was from the Dominican Republic ( a “Dominican Republican”?). He, Elias, was a professional trumpet player, the no. 1 trumpet in a 14-member band that had 3 concerts scheduled for this coming weekend, one of them at Madison Square Garden. So his trip would be short as he had to return to rejoin the band in time for these important concerts. He is friends with other famous Dominican Republicans - Manny Ramirez, Pedro Martinez and David Ortiz (“Big Papi” to Red Sox fans), and even had 4 autographed batting gloves in his bag that he was taking back to his son who is a developing baseball star at home. Can you find out his full name for me and the name of the band for if I get to the DR, I will want to go see him play?

I did get to change my seat to a bulkhead seat, took an Excedrin PM and actually slept 3 or 4 hours on our 7-hour flight to Zurich.




$800 glasses

And of course, after landing in Zurich and making our way through security, who was there to meet us but Peter and Ursula. They looked great even though they had just arrived from a 12-hour flight from Bangkok. They told us the story of how Peter lost his glasses in the taxi in Bangkok and he had to get new glasses when they arrived in Phuket for their vacation. He had to go to an optometrist an hour away and after taking his eye exam, the optometrist gave them a ride back to Phuket saving them a taxi fare. And when the glasses were ready 2 days later, he even drove them to Peter. “And what about the fancy pen?” Ursula asked. Peter proudly took out a nice pen that the optometrist had given him “for free.” And the cost of the glasses? $800! Translated, the glasses cost $250, the two trips to Phuket cost $225 apiece, and the pen cost $100. But the glasses look great - they say “Mercedes Benz” on them. Peter proudly told us that he had bought two pairs of reading glasses as well, the first pair being too weak (so he was saving that for Ursula for when she would need them) and so he had to buy another pair. And due to Ursula’s diligence,when they returned to Bangkok, they recovered the glasses Peter had left in the taxi cab. Apparently, the doorman at their hotel noted the number of the taxi on a hotel business card and gave them the card as they entered the taxi. Upon their return 2 weeks later, after numerous phone calls by Ursula, the glasses were waiting for them at the hotel in Bangkok. Peter exclaimed with delight, “Yes, I spent over $1,000 on glasses.” Some people buy mementoes on vacation, and Peter? Well..... It was great to see them and Peter even got our seats changed to bulkhead seats so that we would have room on our 7 1/2 hour flight to Nairobi.

I’m typing this, legs stretched out in my bulkhead seat, at our cruising altitude of 37,000 feet as we cross over from Libya to Sudan (over Tibesti Mountain as the map on the screen shows), about 4 hours to go. Our route took us over Florence, Rome, Naples, Sicily, Benghazi, and now through central Sudan and then into Kenya. The plane is almost empty, a complete surprise, but we have met several other Friendly Planet people who will be on our trip. Bay is holding up well and we’re getting pretty excited - we’re due to land at 7:05 tonight.

And yes, like you, I am thinking of the people below us in Darfur. And of Elias and his mother.

Nairobi = Swaheli for “chaos”

And now we’re here after a wonderful flight from Zurich on an almost empty plane, passing through customs and no check of our bags whatsoever to meet our guide, James. I changed some money, and then boarded the bus with our eleven others, for the trip into Nairobi, only 20 km, to take 25 minutes, an hour or all night depending on the traffic according to James. Well, the first 8-10 miles went fairly peacefully, with only four accidents en route, ambulances wailing away heading toward the airport, and dark figures darting on and off the highway. Then we hit the roundabouts - these normally work well when people give others the right of way, but not here. It’s just everyone for himself. As we waited at the roundabouts for our turn, little urchins would come up to our minibus offering us peanuts for $1 to “buy books for school.” Janet warned me not to do something “bad.” So we continued on with our stop and go and they would run along side and then when we really got going, they would dart to the side of the road and run as fast as they could to catch us at the next stop. After about an hour and a half, we arrived at the Intercontinental Hotel, and after a briefing by James, adjourned to our room where we decided we really, really needed to visit the bar. Two Tuskers later, we are both feeling much better.
And my Swaheli has been a big hit. But when I asked our waitress in Swaheli if she understood Swaheli, she asked in English, “What are you trying to say?” Well, she pricked that balloon.
Tomorrow we split up into two groups of six. I know which group we’ll be in, the group with the older lady who can’t stop talking, You just wind her up and she’s good for at least an hour of nonstop monologue. Like, as we came in from the airport, she was sitting next to Bay and after a wonderful 2 minutes of silence, she exclaimed, “You know, I don’t have a flatscreen TV.” And off she went for another 20 minutes of why she didn’t have a flatscreen TV. I heard something from Laura recently about talking, when to talk, when not to talk and we should ask ourselves, “Does it improve on silence?”
And with that I have gone on long enough. Good night. Sleep tight.
Love, Nat, Dad, DB, etc.