If you liked that, if you ever go there again ride the little buses (matatu) wherever you go. These buses are run privately by very street smart guys, usually fuelled by a mild stimulant called mira. (The bus touts on a day off would make awesome guides if you could one you trusted as they are so street smart and know the town so well). On the buses, you get to see a lot of life (up country away from the police they will pack 18 of you in along with chickens and even goats, in town they will be constantly bribing police and trying to put pretty girls in the front seat). Listening to the radio playing in the bus can be an education. The radio DJs are very funny. They seem to attract female callers who want to show up the very worst in women -running rotations of beta providers, complaining they were not "given" enough after a night club hookup, why they cheat and so on.

I have not been to kenya for 15 years but I understand all that is still the case.

I got mixed up in kenya by accident. I worked for white kenyans, through them met a kenyan girlfriend after my first marriage ended, found she was a slag and got a white one instead and that should have been the end of it but I was curious about what one might call "bushcraft" -primitive skills in living off the land. Wanted to see the african side of it. The ex girlfriend's sister had a friend from a very up country tribe but the friend could speak english because she had been educated by missionaries. She would introduce me to her pastoralist people if I went to see her and paid her living expenses. This girl had been picked out for education by the missionaries to save her from her background -her father was a cattle rustler, poacher and had done time in jail. Her mother was a moonshiner. Sounded fun.

So began all the culture clash chaos. The girl was an absolute gem and her old man was a good humoured guy who had just fallen foul of a world that no longer allowed his traditional way of life where cattle rustling and hunting are standard male activities. The mother had turned to moonshine making because an illiterate woman whose husband goes to jail could only feed and school a large family by moonshining or whoring and she wasn't a slag, so she started distilling. They then worked out that if they pretended to have given up their traditional beliefs and took on christian names, they would get free shit like money and school fees from missionaries. The old man liked hunting and guns as much as I do, his country just wouldn't let him do it legally, and the girl had a mixture of fairness and kindness in her that I have not seen much in kenya.

I didn't fall in love with Kenya like so many whites do. The country and people have both got a lot going for them but the culture today is really only warm, welcoming and friendly to rich people who give them money and that is why whites love it so. They feel welcomed and loved but it is because they are giving out in return for smiles. This is not attractive really when you think about it -its a culture that whores out. That is why the western countries have made nairobi an aid hub and a centre for the west in east africa -because kenyans sold out to them more than other nations. I fell in love with the girl and the land but not the culture which is in some ways shockingly shallow and materialistic. White saviours forgive this shallowness with "well they have so little..." yeah but so do other cultures that have not sold out all their traditions or so pedastalise money and that is without even getting me started on the Kenyan black middle and upper class who are massively privileged often earning more than middle class whites in the west yet living in a country where you can pay a poor woman a couple of dollars a day to be a disposable house servant.

The girl unfortunately died, leaving me with a 5 day old premature baby. By freak chance as I grappled with funeral arrangements, I met an older woman (almost my age) who worked for the same missionaries. She was genuinely kind helping me as she had recently had two of her sisters die and knew it was hard. She came from the same tribe and town as the girl but had lived in nairobi for over a decade. She was from a privileged middle class background and unlike the first girl she really bought into catholicism -being a nun tempted her. She liked me and we began a relationship (yeah a devout kenyan can pray 7 times a day, really mean it and still fornicate with enthusiasm). She is a good woman and I have lived with her for a while now in the west but we have such different backgrounds. I told her so many times before she came that I was educated but had chosen to be a poor tradesman, liked a simple life and that she was privileged and would be diminished if she came to live with me. She didn't see it till she came and I think part of her really regrets giving up her nairobi life for a village in the west, where we heat the house with firewood and I bring home stuff I shot to eat. I value history, literature, art and the outdoors but I don't value money more than I need it to get the things I value. We differ a lot there.

This whole valentines bouquets of money thing triggered me a bit as it sums up a lot of what I can't love in Kenyan culture, even though I try to be understanding.