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The silence is broken.  We’re back and I’m determined, like a doomed New Year’s Resolution, to resume regular blog writing.  Albeit, I have been a little, uh ‘busy’ but that’s no real excuse.

After a very chilly but charming ten days in New Jersey over Christmas and New Year, where I just happened to get engaged to a lovely bloke , I have returned to Nairobi where I’ve become exceptionally good friends with Diane’s couch.  Diane is part of my ‘Nairobi girlfriends’ group.  Nairobi itself provides a taste of ‘home,’ and Diane, as a Zimbabwean, talks my British colonial roots language, of cold ham and egg & potato salad on a hot Christmas day.

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I was hanging in Nairobi doing a little work for our regional office there as I, like many others, waited out the independence referendum taking place in southern Sudan, to see that it turned out calmly before going in.  Just as we got the all clear for me to travel to Sudan, all hell broke lose in my interiors and by fluke I discovered that I had not one, but two biological weapons lurking on my insides (it’s amazing what you learn when you get engaged to a former US military officer!).  I also had a small gastro-bacterial zoo to boot, so none of these little buggers were lonely inside me.  Glorious.

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However, I felt pretty unimpressive and counted five minutes upright to do the dishes as equivalent to a marathon.  As I fast ‘became one’ with Diane’s couch, I was being unusually supermodel-like, turning up all but chocolate cookies and honey on toast.   Despite my incessant attempts to get on a plane to fly to Sudan, my body literally refused.

My dear friend, Diane's couch

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The doctor ordered rest, and prescribed medicines advising I ‘avoid’ dairy and alcohol…hmmph, can we clarify the exact meaning of ‘avoid’, that’s not quite ‘prohibited’?  All good preparation for Sudan where I’ll learn to get excited about okra and aubergines.   As luck would have it, this weekend, another Nairobi girlfriend Angelika was celebrating her birthday at the Kiambethu Tea Farm.  Not sure whether I was allowed ‘outings’, I was assured that this would be even more restful than being one with Diane’s couch…the fresh air would do me good.  And I’ve done practically nothing ‘touristy’ in Nairobi…ever…and well, lots of lasses at a tea estate for a night, what could be better!

If I was looking to feel like a tourist, I would have been sadly disappointed – fortunately I was not.   The Kiambethu Tea Farm was akin to my Grandma’s in Whakatane, except that I was in Kenya, and it’s a tea farm not a small townhouse.  But this place is an institution.  Simple, home-made, home-baked, home-cooked and well-loved…everything oozes home as third-generation owner, Fiona, and her faithful staff potter around to ensure you have a lovely homey stay.  Add to this the colonial ties and the book shelf contents (old well-thumbed National Geographics, Bill Bryson, and a coffee-table book of “Discover New Zealand…the Glorious Islands”) and I really wondered if I was even in Kenya.  We drank Pimms (well, I had a small glass…I know, no alcohol) and ate cake and drank tea and admired the hydrangeas and relaxed…to…the…core.  A must-do for anyone with a weekend in Nairobi.

Looking out to the tea estate gardens from our homey room

Eating breakfast...with an 'old' friend in the background!

The homey and classic lounge. Still no television...how refreshing.

Looking out from the living room to the garden...maaagic!

One of the delightfully tame K9 company onsite

Angelika, the birthday girl, outside the tea farm house

It’s a good thing because tomorrow is D-day.  Feeling human-enough, I fly to Juba, the capital of southern Sudan which is quite likely to become Africa’s newest nation if the voter turnout and voting preference are considered valid enough by all the relevant authorities.After two days in Juba for briefings and acclimatization I’ll head up to my new base in Malualkon, in the Northern Bahr el Ghazal state bordering the northern part of Sudan, and notably the disputed region of Abyei.  Abyei was meant to have it’s own referendum to decide whether to join the north or the south in the event of a split.  While the overall referendum for independence has gone very peacefully, Abyei’s vote never came to fruition for a variety of predictable reasons.  Clashes have lead to at least 38 deaths in the last weeks and word has it the transit camps around our base in Malualkon a few hours from Abyei, have been well and truly overwhelmed as southerners flee the troubled region.

Gulp.

It has been frustrating to be sick…desperately wanting to get up there as soon as I could, especially knowing how critical things are right now.  But a reality like Malualkon requires a body in full form, at 100%.  The 40 to 50 degrees celcius, the borehole water source, life in a tukul (mud hut) or tent, and the threat of serpents and snakes make this place and this mission a challenge of an entirely new sort.   Keeping my own health up is essential if I want to be of any use to anyone out there.

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