Home Part 2: The Wedding

Following the hen and subsequent catch-ups I made my way home to Devon once again – this time to prepare for the event of the year: Alice and David’s wedding.

In just 5 days I somehow managed to mix in work, sorting out things for Kenya, going through my things for storage, making bunting, helping with name cards, favours and wedding decorations, not to mention making 96 cup-cakes in 3 different flavours all hand decorated. It was a whirlwind week and all of a sudden the last night of my sister being a Shepheard-Walwyn arrived. A long time ago, when we were kids, there came a tradition, where Alice would – for many different reasons, come and share a bed with me. And to my joy, restless and nervous, Alice found her way to my room and I got to spend some amazing quality time with her whilst she was still Miss Alice Shepheard-Walwyn, Shobbly-Wobbly, Swallow, Silly-Willy and all variations there of... We talked of marriage, family and made lists of all the things not to be forgotten the next day. In the wee-small hours we finally got some much needed rest.

Flowers Along the aise

Flowers done by ladies from the village

The next day was a whirlwind of activity from the moment we got up. By 10am there were a team of hair-dressers and make-up people ready to turn those of us more at home crawling through bushes into more sophisticated looking beauties... And wow, they did the most incredible job. Both my sisters look stunning as it is anyway, but I never saw myself as suiting a quiff and actually scrubbing up quite well – who knew I could look classy! Alice has always been stunning, but it is true what they say – being a bride really does do something to a girl. I have never seen her look so excited, happy and stunning. She literally took my breath away once I saw here ready to walk the aisle.

Alice Having her hair done

Louise stunning even before make-up is finished!

Not so shabby once scrubbed up!

The glowing bride!

I felt so proud standing by her at the alter. And of course, I shed a few tears with Louise as we watched our big sister make the biggest step of her life, and say I do to the Love of her life. The ceremony was sentimental, funny, beautiful, and quite simply perfect. And despite considerable temptation and bribery the vicar even managed to resist calling David Jedward when announcing his middle names. I am sure everyone says it, but it was the most wonderful wedding I have been to, and Louise and Paul have quite the mission to match it when their turn comes round J

The reception was the best I, and I was assured most people, had been to. I would in fact go as far as to say that it was possibly the best party I have been to! There were so many wonderful friends and family, incredible food, and beautiful decorations. The fact that the place had been decorated by friends and family, and there had been such love and attention put into the place I think really helped to make the venue so very special. The speeches were wonderful – Dad and David’s were both touching, amusing and thoughtful. Both made me laugh and cry, and I was so truly happy. The best men outdid themselves. I am sure that there is much that David would have preferred we didn’t all now know, but my word, they had us all literally in stitches. I laughed and cried when listening to Dad and David, and I cried with laughter when listening to Fel and Tony. Much to his embarrassment, in the end David did come off better for it – I even heard a few friends of the bride mention they liked David even more after hearing those speeches!

Following the food and speeches the party really kicked in. The band was phenomenal! Great musicians, up for a good party and with a good sense of humour to go with it all. With over a hundred guests we kept going till the wee small hours, although Alice and David had left, it took an instruction to the band to stop playing (who had willingly gone on beyond their time) to break us all up and get everyone moving to their respective abodes for the night. Although no a word was said in complaint, I am sure the members of the village were grateful for the end and peace to be restored.

The following morning we all headed back to the venue for a hog roast. It was only an hour in, bride and groom still missing, that we realised they had been dropped off home the night before and had no means of getting to the venue. Although not far by car, their cottage was a good hour or more walk away and we had forgotten all about them! With a quick dash to find them wandering down the road they were promptly picked up and brought to the continued celebrations. With friends and family we whiled away the afternoon of the first day with the newlyweds eating hog-roast and eating traditional Devonshire ice-cream in the sun. It was the perfect end to the most wonderful weekend. 

Home Part 1: Shopping, Walking and Naked Butlers...

There is always a pull back home. No matter how carzy/ amazing/ wonderful my life away may be. There is a tug on my heartstrings every time I hear the voices of my family, or read a note that reminds me of England. There is a longing in my heart that wants to take me back home, if even just for a day. So in mid-August, even though I was frustrated at leaving what was rapidly feeling like my new home, just as I felt my life was begning to settle and things were falling into place; I was so excited to be heading back to the UK. The only thing I was not looking forward to was the tube, train and bus that was facing me at the other end.  Four months away was enough time to get those things out of my system, so they no longer felt like a breeze, but were making me stress from hundreds of miles away.

Before I could get home though I had to first stop in Nairobi. I never seem to learn not to read what is on the internet, nor do I listen to my mother when she tells me at times it’s better to pay that little bit extra for some comfort. So those two life lessons ignored, I had booked myself into a cheap, but apparently nice place ‘near’ the airport. What I found was a dingy, mosquito infested hole in a part of Nairobi, which is cold at the best of times, I found myself in an even colder section next to a main road, in a fairly dubious area of town. I was cold and miserable. After a desperate call home to my sister Louise, I followed her instructions – doomed my room, escaped the toxins with a book for company at dinner (even worse than the room if possible). On my return I jumpped in the scoulding shower (I was just grateful for the warmth), jumpped into bed, and hoped that sleeping would make the morning and my flight home arrive sooner. Luckily Louises advice worked, and for whatever reason, exhaustion, or my mind protecting me from the horrors of what surrounded me (OK, possibly a little dramatic, but hey :P), I slept the night through and soon found myself in a taxi headed back for the airport.

The flight went smoothly and before I could decide between sleep and films, (my eternal flight dilema!), and wihtout feeling like I had had my fill of either, I was decending into heathrow. I landed and called Alice (my eldest sister), I was staying at hers and needed to check she’d be in. She had told me to call as I was going through arrivals, but I couldn’t wait to hear her voice. She was in Tesco’s (part of me was dissapointed she hadn’t secretly come to meet me), and we began to make plans for the night. As I did finally make my way into arrivals I heard a squeak both on the phone and behind me – my heart jumpped and I knew what I’d see as soon as I turned. I spun round and swear I could have burst with excitement, relief and joy – there was Alice waiting for me as I had wished she would be. We nearly squeezed the life out of each other, and all thoughts of Kenya, work and transport dissapeared. I was home, and with family. I knew I had missed her, but I hadn’t quite realised how much till I was standing with her in front of me. After an excited few moments of chatter we headed to her home gossiping all the way. To my added joy that night Louise and her fiance Paul came to join us (Alice, her fiance David and I) for dinner. It was such a great welcome home.

My trip to the UK quickly picked up pace after my return. When I described my trip back to my friend James, he said it was “a typical Emma trip”. Wth which I believe he meant compltetly over the top and an attempt to cram too much stuff into too little time (I often think if I were tested today I’d be diagnosed with hyperactivity or ADD), which indeed it was, and something I would never dream of changing.

'I'm pretty sure I packed more than this...'
Maybe Rhod Gilbert also got his suitcase from Lites Mtumba!

Mum came up to London and we did some serious sales shopping reaping the advantage of arriving home at the end of summer, and knowing I’d soon be heading to warmer climes (yep, a few days back and already thinking of getting back to Kenya – well I am nothing if not good at thinking ahead and trying to make plans). Along with our ability to talk anyone’s ears off (yep, it’s a family trait), us S-W ladies are very good at shopping. Inherited from my mother, we approach it with tactics and planning, only slightly short of a military attack, and boy are we effective. Join my mother’s eye for what will suit (most of the time...) and my six-sense-type ability to find a deal and we are a sales shopping Special Forces unit. With my Kenya wardrobe re-stocked, much tea drunk, cheese eaten, a number of pubs frequented and some great London meals drunk I headed with Mum to Devon soon to be followed by Alice, Louise, Paul and David for Dad’s 60^th birthday weekend.

Home sweet home - Beautiful Devon fields

For our family time we attempted to do a section of the coastal walk round the South of England. Unfortunately what we hadn’t banked on was the English weather. Unprepared for walking in the rain (you’d think being English we’d manage that..), our first attempt was a little bit of a failure. However after a good lunch, some drying off under hand-warmers, and clearer skies beckoning we finally managed to get in a good few hours along the gorgeous Devon coast-line. We then spent the rest of the weekend catching up and having some wonderful (and these days increasingly rare) family time.

Happy Birthday Dad!

Chris looking pleased at the decision to go to the pub

Now that's more like it... The view once things had dried out.

Once Dad’s weekend was over and I had finally settled back in I found life kicking itself off again with no thought to the distances I had travelled. A return to Canterbury saw me try to combine catch-ups, with work, meetings and a full-scale scrub down of my house after one set of tenants were out, and overseeing the arrival of new ones (this time, my gorgeous friends and with them a lot less stress and hassle – thank God). Once all this was sorted, and I had developed a ‘work game-plan’ for my time back, I found myself once again moving on. This time to London to stay with Louise, get in some more catching-up with her Paul and Paul’s daughter Jess, and our final preparations for Alice’s hen party. With some last minute crises averted we were soon on our way south for a seriously surreal but fun weekend.

Who knew Gosport could be such fun! It was one of the craziest weekends of my life. With Alice-in-wonderland characters, naked butlers, scavenger hunts, girls dressed as their Dads, interesting  and dubious interactions with the local police and many creepy old men, sports day, acrobatics by the sea, bouncy castles, some incredible food and lots of alcohol, it was definitely one to remember (well most of it I think).

Tweedle Dee (Me), Alice (Alice), Queen of Hearts (Charlie - MOH) and Tweedle-Dum (Louise)

On my way home I made a vital stop to meet a very special young lady, one of my oldest friends, Adam, and his wife had, just as I got back, had the most stunning little girl. It was supposed to be a short stop, but having quickly fallen completely in love with the tiny little treasure in my hands I couldn’t bear to leave. Luckily Anna happily let me hold Amelia whilst she got some sleep and Adam and I had a much over-due catch up. Once again I realised, that whilst life abroad is amazing, you miss out on so much that is going on at home, and neglect a lot of your friends. I vowed to make more of an effort the next time I was away.

Northern Bound

Mid July saw my life in Kenya shift again. I said goodbye to another great friend, and the loss of Kim was going to be as big a shift as the day Sinead headed home. I was clearly finding myself drawn to the Dutch girls out here, with one small problem, they keep leaving. Kim had become the person I turned to, to pick me up when I was low (it is impossible not to smile when Kim is around, her positivity and laugh being quite simply infectious), the person who shared insane amounts of food with me on nights when we felt like indulging, and the best person around to have a gossip and girly chat with. Losing her was going to make life significantly duller – thank God for the internet and Whatsapp!

But losing Kim came at a time when everything was shifting, both in life and work – and resulted in a small bit of fortune for me logistically... As Kim left the house in Mtwapa she and Marloes cancelled their contract. Kim headed back to The Netherlands and Marloes moved in with her boyfriend, and this meant that their furniture was up for sale, and with a new house in Kilifi to fill I was happy to take things off their hands.

So with another friend departing, I found myself moving to Kilfi to a new house, with a new car, and a new life to be set up. Luckily I had a couple of friends already there, and with Kilifi being just an hour from Mombasa the move went smoothly. The next few weeks were possibly the most hectic of my whole time in the 4 months I was there, but as they say – if you want something done, give it to someone busy, for these were not only the busiest, but also probably the most productive.

Outside of work I set up my home, began making new friends both in Kilifi and Vpingo (including Seb, a new friend who was always there for a few drinks at the end of the working day and dinner in some fairly dodgey places). I learnt a few things about kitting out a new home in Kenya... 

1) What you can get at a second hand store is limited, but can be good

My second-hand dining set

2) Kangas make great curtains

My new room with Dutch bed, and Kanga curtain

And in particular...

3) Getting a decent comfy sofa on a budget is not simple! It turns out it is common for Kenyans to pack the back and arms of their sofas with card and other packing materials, the effect being that you are stinning against an odly shaped, rather uncomfortable rock! So my mission was to get a fundi in Kilifi to make one, but stuff it with foam instead. After much haggling We managed to agree on a full set for just under £15,000 (the equivalent of £150). It took a few weeks, and when it was done I realised my first big mistake... Never, ever, ever tell a Kenyan fundi to pick out the material for your home furnishings. I simple said dark, normal sofa materal (thinking the plain cotton covers we get). What I got was shiney green vlvet sofas! It turns out the amazingly synthetic shiney velvet is the standard material of choice for Sofas in Kenya, and boy was it special. Mistake number two became evident that night as I sat on my “sofa” – I hadn’t checked what Lenny would be stuffing my seat cushions with. When I sat it appeared the foam he had used was of such a low densit that after a couple of minutes I was sitting on the wood below – not comfortable. The next day the fight began. When I took him the cushions, and got his staff to confirm that the foam was the cheapest, worst stuff around, and was basically pointless, Lenny informed me that we had agreed on the sofa and not the cushions. I pointed out that a sofa without cushions, was in fact not a sofa, but a bench with a posh back! There was a fair amount of back and forth, including accusaions of con men (a little dramatic, but boy did it work), and me being informed that I was making this poor man very pink! I was more than a little confused, if not simply because I realised that I wouldn’t be able to tell what colour this man was going under his amazingly dark ebony coloured skin. After a while, I had to resist the urge to laugh when I realised that he had misused the English phrase of seeing red when one is angry! I decided we both needed to calm down and come up with a solution rather than the large amounts of yelling and pink making that was going on. We finally agreed that I would not pay the full cost for new cushions, but that I would pay the difference between the cost of the cheap ones, and better ones, and Lenny would just have to re-coup the costs for the cheap ones elsewhere, or use them for someone else. A few days later I finally had reasonable comfortable, incredibly ugly, fantastically static sofa set of my very own.

Super special Kenyan Sofas!

I still occasionally made it to the Wednesday night volleyball in Mombasa, and found a new weekly highlight – Kilifi may not do Wednesday night volleyball, but it does do free oysters and lunch at the boatyard on a Saturday, which isn’t a bad trade in my books (turns out Kilifi oysters are famous, and for very good reasons I can tell you).

Kilifi Boatyard

In work I found that things suddenly began to move at phenomenal speeds. I still didn’t have my visa, but I did have my research permit, which gave me the ability to start putting things into motion. I had copious meetings with governmental officials around the areas where I would be doing my work, I met with some of the local youths and found two wonderfully bright and motivated young adults who were happy to help with the project and eventually we started to pilot the questionnaire.  Over the next few weeks I found myself heading back and forth to Nairobi, visiting both the immigration office and in the attempt to find existing data. By the beginning of August I had field work going ahead, data from the botanical department of NMK and promises of data from the national bureau of statistics.

I was soon counting down to the day where I would be heading home, and my last week proceeded in true Kenyan fashion. 8 days before I was due to head home I finally got my visa, I picked up over 90 questionnaires for processing, and went out with true Coastal style... One night as Jane Jetson, a final volleyball session, and a night of crab sandwiches, champagne and sunsets on the beach.

My Student Pass (my visa) - I waited 4 months for a stamp and squiggle!

My re-entry permit

Dressed as Jane Jetson - using cardboard, Kikoy and many safty pins

So there it was, a fair number of adventures and new life underway, and I began to make my way home. It seemed like the most ridiculous time to be leaving just as I was beginning to get everything in place, but there were plans to be make, things to be sorted, and so much to be done in the few months I would have back home. As I sat in my room in Nairobi the night before flying home, I couldn’t help but think of how crazy life in Africa really is, and with both excitement and trepidation I thought of the life I would be having over the next couple of years. But for now, the thing that filled my mind the most was the thought of getting home to my family, revelling in a few of the comforts that life back home would bring, and the joy that for a little while I’d be able to drink some half decent milk, eat lots of very good cheese meat and chocolate, and for once not start to sweat at the thought of a good cup of tea!