I was filled with an ounce or two of trepidation venturing into an unknown place; a bold new viewpoint. What am I doing? What will happen next? Where might I end up? Will I come back?
All these questions swirling in my head. And more. Then I landed at Jomo Kenyatta international airport on Easter Monday to a cool westerly breeze and a transfer to my hotel. What was central Nairobi going to be like? And what a feast of colour, new sights, smells.
People are people and that's the big learning. Why did I think this place would be different to elsewhere? Why did I believe here would be contorted to something unrecognizable? Of course it isn't. The people live, the thirst for life is lip-smacking.
New customs are quickly adopted and a fresh perspective on my surroundings easily taken on board. One should wear a suit at work (thank God the climate allows) and don't wait for the traffic light to necessarily turn green before driving on. So much to learn. So many things to wonder at.
I've perchanced on places I'd hitherto only dreamed or fantasized about. Did I really venture to Dar Es Salaam? Did I actually land at Entebbe? Was there an arrival in Accra? And was that Lagos I spied from the comfort of my suitably locked Toyota?
I guess it all must have happened.
And a colleague asked will I not miss all the wondrous things in Asia? Naturally, I shall. But the retort perhaps should be, "what would I be missing in Africa if I didn't move on?" I'm already yearning to be back in Uganda, return to Tanzania and sample more of what Lagos (apparently) has to offer.
There is something that just popped into my head and it's major concern: how can one be stylish in east Africa? I saw the eye-wincing brightness of bold tribal prints in Nigeria and an admiration of the great houses of luxury only usually witnessed in Rome. But I must confess the Kenyan appreciation of Gucci, Boss, Dior and perhaps Ferragamo is less than slight. The conservative nature of the east is over-shadowed by the flamboyance of the west of this great continent. Will I be consigned to scouring for khakis and safari gear on my next jaunt to London? Will I find myself passing by Armani and heading like a misguided homing-pigeon into the Timerland store? Will Merrill replace Prada for my footwear of choice? And how could the North Face become my Etro or Zegna when I need an outer-garment to keep me warm or dry (or both) ??!
Then again, I don't think I shall let it happen.
Maybe it's partly my duty to bring a little bit of style and unaffordable luxury to this corner of the world. I resolve to subscribe to Monocle and continue to scan the pages of Flipboard ensuring I won't be abandoned by the fashion and odd extravagance that is THE industry.
I have enjoyed beyond my wildest imagination my first month in Africa. I shall be returning to Singapore in a few days time and am certain people will want to know more about my "initiation" onto the dark continent. I think I'll tell them it was "OK".
After all I don't want everyone coming over, now do I?!
No comments:
Post a Comment