I think you agree with me, enough about Spain. Now it’s time to look ahead, to KENYA!!
You heard me.
The story started when I was coming back from the gym one day at the Vigo university campus. I was listening to 2Pac, vigorously trying to forget the tights that the other dudes were wearing, AGAIN, when Jewelz, the light of my days, calls me. She tells me she got the internship at UN. I’m of course thrilled for her and, after congratulating her, proceed to ask where of the possible locations the internship might take place. “Bruxelles, D.C., or New York”? “Nairobi”, she replies. I stop, take my other earphone out of my ear, and ask her to repeat what she said, because I obviously heard wrong. “Nairobi”, she insists. “But that’s in Africa”, I cleverly point out. “Yeah, in Kenya, to be exact.”, she clarifies.
Well. There go all of my plans for the future. After confirming the previously revealed facts, I hang up the phone, get on the bus and sit quietly with a moronic, blank look on my face until I get to Plaza America, where I get off. I walk home, collapse on my hammock, and start reasoning: “I can’t let her go by herself, it might be dangerous, and we’re already currently apart for 6 months because of my exchange program. And it would be stupid to just visit for a couple of weeks. The plane tickets cost like a bitch, I need to like 6 different vaccinations, malaria medication, and a visa. She can’t fly here, or to Finland, where I’d actually be at that time, because of her work. ERGO, it looks like I’m moving to Africa. HOLY SHIT-BALLS, I’M MOVING TO AFRICA!!”
That was it, my mind was made up. Through the flawless logical deduction process described above I decided I’d move to Nairobi around New Year’s. I was aware of those dozens of stories I had heard about guys who marry the wrong woman and end up moving to Vishnu knows where. My old basketball coach being one of them. But then again, I had resisted the urge of falling on one knee even on those dangerous moments on Sunday mornings when you’re not exactly feeling like a 100 bucks, or smackers as my man IGL (“eagle”) calls them, and your logic is clouded by the remains of alcohol in your cerebellum and an attractive lady that, for some peculiar reason, does not kick you out of bed, even when you smell like asparagus. So I’m good, nothing to worry about.
Except for the few facts I found out after doing a little research on that paradise on Earth I was moving to. For one, it turns out Nairobi’s nick-name is Nai-robbery, because of the thriving street crime. Fun. Also, several foreign ministries advise travelers to stay away from Kenya, especially from Nairobi, unless they really really have to. AND, while trying to get travel insurance my current insurance company casually informed me that Kenya was on their list of war-risk zones and that the insurance would cost me an arm and a leg. AH! Oh well, I merely switched all my insurances to another company who didn’t think there was anything wrong with going to Kenya. Who says ignorance isn’t bliss? The silver lining, if you really want to see it, is that I had to take so many vaccinations that I can now have sex with Pamela Anderson, should that become necessary at some point in the future. Hell, Borat got close and he’s even hairier than I am, so the odds don’t look too bad after all.
SO, obviously I had to start organizing stuff, like how I can keep receiving student money from the government while in Kenya, without actually studying anything at all. Furthermore, we would have to sublet the apartment to avoid paying two rents and so on. AND to keep my sorry excuse for an academic career going somewhere, I had to complete a year’s worth of classes in four months. I could list more things but you get the picture. A lot to do, little time. Which is why I haven’t written here in a while. Well, that and the fact that I’m a lazy bastard most of the time, with moments of shining and uncanny efficiency. And now back to the drawing board. I’ll let you know how the preparations are going in the flashest of flashes, trust me. :)
Peace up, N-town!
P.S. Here’s a pointless picture of a Nairobian giraffe for those who only check in for the photos :