Sasa is Swahili slang for jambo, which is hello in English. Essentially, saying sasa to a Kenyan is like saying ‘sup yo’ and a terrific way of confusing the locals in thinking you know how to jam. Silly Mzungo (or whiteboay).
The adventure to get to Kenya was epic, and we had an amazing time meeting all walks of life along the way. A big shout out to TonyPring for kickin us down a lift to the flight and living that last nervous breath of excitement with us. Apparently Dozza had that same feeling of being at the top of a rollercoaster, listening to the last few ‘clicks’ of the track before being released into the abyss. As for me, well I was hanging out the window flowing freely, enjoying my last few wind bursts of beautiful British Columbia.
Everything rolled like a marble at the airport; no line up, bag underweight, and we were even on time for once. We were chosen “randomly” for a physical search at security and given the option of having old school wand ‘n pat or being teleported to outer space by that redonkulous “let’s see everyone naked” machine. Me personally, don’t like those machines…they make my bell ends tickle. Much to the amazement of the extremely happy and confused security agent, neither did Dorrow so we got the full service. While feeling the bottom of his foot, Chris almost lost balance and took out the entire “isle 7” operation, but thankfully a chair was there to brace the impact. After four years of yoga you would think the kid would know how to stand on one foot??? Nope. He blamed it on the man touching his foot, I say he just finished a fat session with Tony 30 mins prior and had the balance of a 2yr old.
After a stupendous 8.5 hr red – to which we lucked out and got 4 seats in a row allowing us to stretch out like a bed – we arrived in London, couldn’t read English and took the wrong exit out. *Click – Stamp – “have a good trip”* and we were shown to the exit sign of Heathrow airport. Now with 7 hrs to kill in London we hopped on the “tube”, walked around Hyde park, went to Buckinham Palace, smashed down a pint with some fish n chips and jumped back on the plane for Red Eye Round Deux (deux = 2 for the confused). We can now say we’ve been in London now if anyone asks…which is the most exciting part of London. Obviously Dozza chirped his commonwealth counterparts and tell them London was dreary, uncultured and boring – much like his current British classmates – but honestly it was humbling to touch foot on historic soil and “bear” witness to the home of Lizzy and the Gang. Cool city, very energetic vibe and would love to spend a few nights “proper”.
As soon as we stepped off the plane we instantly knew we were faaaaaarrrr away from the comforts of the MBA lounge, triple-ply toilet paper and late night “tastey” sessions on Jericho beach. Then, after picking the wrong line in customs, getting the shakedown, finding our luggage (which thank god was all there) we were greeted by two of the most amazing guys on the planet; Val and Fred. They immediately took us under their wings and made sure we were WELL taken care of with local sim cards, calling plans, hotel reservations and transportation. They escorted us to our villa and waited patiently for us while we took a shower and changed into something less slimy. At this point I was dressed in FULL afro with a greasy, French Canadian shine…great way to meet someone for the first time. I can’t describe how amazingly humble, intelligent, friendly, funny and honest these two Kats are, and we are very lucky to have them as friends for this journey.
P.S> Silly Mzungo story #1: You need to read the mirrors in the bathroom to tell you that there is a water heater switch on the outside of the room to heat your water for a shower. If not, you are blessed with a bone shrinkingly (heh) wake up call.