25-02-2010 by Claudia Peli
Last week a friend from Italy came to visit me.
I have spoken to her so often during these years about the beauty of Kenya and the dolce vita in Malindi, that in the end curiosity got the upper hand.
Alessandra has travelled little in life: she doesn't know much about the world, and Africa at all.
So, as soon as she disembarked from the plane, I gave her a detailed informative introduction on everything important to know in order not to be fooled and enjoy a nice holiday in Malindi.
I work during the day, so she is left to fend for herself... will she be all right? We'll see.
A couple of mornings ago she was moved because a little boy climbed up atop a palm tree to pick her a coconut, which she enjoyed after a swim in the sea.
"But just think, what a danger to get up there, and all for a coconut! Without even a sling or a rope... how brave!"
"Oh yes, without even a safety net underneath..."
I make fun of her, and then I explain to her that these children learn first to climb plants than to walk.
They are much smarter and more autonomous than our children: childhood is a luxury that lasts very little around here. And she nods.
"Did you give him a few coins to thank him?" I ask her.
"Sure, he asked me for 500 shillings."
"What's that?! But you're ruining the market for us... you didn't give it to him, did you?"
"No, don't get excited, I only gave him 300, I won't be cheated."
"With 300 shillings you could have ten chariots."
"But poor thing... and then he told me he doesn't even have shoes to go to school." She tells me she's worried.
"Lucky him! So his feet are free and fresh, in contact with the ground, his toes don't overlap and his heels don't blister."
"How cynical you are!" He's bothered.
"But don't you remember when we were kids we used to take our shoes off as soon as we could and walk around barefoot? It was so funny... how many Tepa Sports we threw in the ditch behind the house?"
But my friend shakes her head and puffs, and announces that in the afternoon she will take the child to Bata to buy him a pair of comfortable shoes.
"And good Ale, so then she sells them... get him some rubber flip-flops: everybody uses them here, even wazungu, and they're always in fashion."
But it's a waste of breath, I know he'll go his own way.
This morning she was approached by two muscular and cheerful rastas, who escorted her as bodyguards to the marine park.
"Of course, everyone here in Malindi is so sunny and lively, eh? What beautiful people, they have joy inside..." She is convinced.
"Come on Ale, don't fall into rhetoric too, at least those two had just smoked a joint under a palm tree... of course they were joyful!"
"But no, that's their nature: peace and love, that's their philosophy of life... don't always be skeptical!"
"Maybe I've been living with them for seven years and I've learned something about them. You've only been here seven days.
"Don't you have any African friends? He's asking me a lot.
"No, I only have acquaintances. I've told you that the times I've trusted you, then I've always been disappointed. In the end, with great nerve, they always come to ask you something. I don't know how many of them are interested in my friendship as an end in itself."
"And you've never been with one of them in all these years?"
She asks me maliciously.
"Been what way?" And I'm standing on my antennae.
"Yeah, you know what I mean... you've never been with a black guy?"
"Never, never." I'm gonna say it twice, just to make it clear.
"And why is that? Some of them are so cute... there's a lot of them on the beach."
I'm speechless, yet I've known her since I was five years old.
What am I going to do? Give you a bottle on your head and board the first flight to Italy tomorrow morning?
"Listen Ale, let's not talk nonsense... it would already be a misdemeanour in my family if I got engaged to someone from under the Po. "Imagine getting engaged to someone from under the Sabaki..." Just a joke to make you feel less shocked.
"Oh yeah... I forgot you're a bit of a leghista." Sour back.
"But if I haven't voted for five years! I'm apolitical..."
Our conversation ends here.
I just hope he doesn't start fantasizing about some muscular and joyful dreadlocks: all we need is that tomorrow morning when I wake up I find one of them in his underwear in the kitchen slicing three slices of my local salami.
I think that if I lived in Nairobi, my relationships with the locals would be different: maybe I could weave some friendships up there.
But the social and cultural gap between me and the African people I relate to on a daily basis here in Malindi is too deep.
I love all this colourful humanity around me; like the l'askari, the shamba boy, the staff guys at work, the banana sellers, the pareos, the fishermen, the boda boda, the ones who pull the carts, the ones who smile at you without teeth, the women who go to the well with their cans on their heads, the children who chase each other in the courtyards of the
schools...but I am aware that we belong to two worlds that are too distant and different.
So I am content to have polite and superficial relationships with them.
Ever since I arrived here I have always had the feeling that everyone is well anchored on their own riverbank, and in the middle always flows a lot, a lot of water.
However, to take a step forward and impress my dear friend, I decided to paraphrase Roddy Doyle.
I go down here to Geppetto, the carpenter who carves the wood outside my gate, and I commision him with a plaque engraved on it:
If your name is
Kazungu or Katana
And you are a citizen of Malindi
There will always be
A WELCOME to you
On the doormat
Who knows if I will hang it outside the door.
