Two Indian travellers just plonked themselves (with a certain amount of courtesy, I must admit) at my table.  I was happily and nonchalantly scoffing my beef pie, washing it down with a refreshing local lager: White Cap.  Thinking about how I could possibly kill 1.5 hours stuck at JKIA (Jomo Kenyatta International Airport), I was suddenly struck with an urge to type.

 

So here’s what’s going on around me.  Hope it will be as interesting for you to read is, as it is for me to watch.

 

A colic-consumed infant screams its lungs off – it sounds very painful – time to turn up the volume on my iPod.

 

A young local has just sat next to a stranger complete with two bottles of beer – apparently not prepared to stand in line for a 2^nd – and, I, having been queue jumped while I was there, totally sympathise.  And since there is a Kenyan peculiarity of drinking alcohol and soda drinks at room temperature – I don’t suppose he’ll care when the 2^nd bottle is already lukewarm.

 

A group of Scandinavian backpackers are crumpled on a tiny table behind me with their Mac and delighting in reminiscing in their recent safari  and African village adventures.  Cows mingle with elephants and the odd native in a bright red blanket wrapped around him making him look rather like a Quality Street sweet.

 

A wobbling blue-clad policeman passes by the cafe rubbing his chin – I wonder if he longs for a nice lukewarm beer too.  The peak cap he wears suggest authority and the 35cm cane he has sandwiched under his armpit suggesting even a tad more than that.  He about-turns and heads off in  the direction he came from .

 

One of the Indian travellers opposite me, just yawned so widely without covering his mouth I could almost see his colon never mind his tonsils.  Sigh.

 

And a female beauty in red just joined the young guy with the two beers for a “hello”.  He immediately introduced her to his new-found friend on the same table and she instinctively reached out her hand to shake the stranger’s.  He lingered, holding on for longer than a European might be comfortable with – making that African connection – conveying friendship and respect in a lengthy grasp.  A quick almost-dismissive tug of hands will not suffice here – and I like that.

 

Passengers are coming and going and I suppose I could ramble on for hours describing the funny, the fat, the fragile, the frisky or even the fatherly.  The suited, the slumped, the stressed, the shopping and even the sexy.  And coincidentally, the fatherly and sexy just happen to be the same, as I notice that my White Cap is empty. 

 

When I paid for my beef pie and beer about 20 minutes ago, the server didn’t have the correct change and he gave me extra to save the hassle of me waiting.  He smiled and said you can offset it against your next purchase...I retorted: “I might not have a 2^nd purchase, but will see you on my next flight,” – but as with people experienced in certain fields however banal or pedestrian, he knew better and thus, please forgive me as I complete this blog entry to skip to the counter for my next beer.