So we're back in the UK after 50 weeks away, and this is the bit the books don't tell you about. Reverse culture shock. Heightened, it must be said, by the fact we have a list as long as your arm of things which 'must' be bought in UK and shipped out. So, never an enthusiastic shopper, I've come from Kenya to spend several days in IKEA and the like.
Knickers. School shoes. Work shoes. Trainers. Sandals. For the next year - how many sizes does the average child's foot grow over the average year? White socks. Lightbulbs. Lamps. A basketball hoop. Reading glasses. A printer. Mugs and a flan-dish. A toaster. Nice smelling moisturiser. Two loungers. Books. A long, long list, and none of them are truly essential. And most of them CAN be bought in Kenya at double or triple or quadruple the price. But boy will they make life that bit easier. And yet, as I look at the teetering pile, and think what I've spent, and what most people manage to get by with - and what others in Kenya could do with this money - well it is a source of guilt and uneasy comparisons.
And what has struck us here?
- the quality of the roads. No potholes, the WHOLE road covered in tarmac with no red earth showing, even at the edges, no cows or handcarts, no matatus, everyone driving in the same direction down the M4, everyone stopping behind a red light. Wow.
- paralysing choices. Wandering round Tescos pricing toasters I found myself piling my trolley high with toileteries, a job prioritised till the end of the trip. I couldn't get my brain to believe that I didn't need them now, they'd still be there tomorrow, I got trapped in this scarcity feeling - if you see it and need it, buy it now. Overwhelmed and numbed.
- the spanking, sparkling, inclusive quality of public services. Ok so Swansea has a flagship public library. But we truly nearly cried on entry. Borrowing Mum's card we could get 5 books each. The joy of leafing, weighing up from many, choosing. Running around waving them at each other, 'look they've got...'
And two days later returning to get another 5 each.
Swansea library is bigger - and far far far more imaginative - than University of Nairobi's (private) library - probably the biggest in Kenya. Bookshops in Kenya cover their few books, on a limited range of themes, in clingfilm, so you can't read before you part with your cash. And oh, how it matters to us all to be back where we can choose books at random and read for enjoyment. I've re-determined to set up a shelf of books for our guards to borrow.
- the prices. Feels as if I'm stuck without basic competence in two languages. On the one hand I'm still surprised by the prices in Kenya in many things, - and here I am back in UK, like a refugee from 1950s, amazed that a main course in our local caff could be £8.95 at lunchtime. 900 shillings? Get away with you. Never.
Happy holidays.
Knickers. School shoes. Work shoes. Trainers. Sandals. For the next year - how many sizes does the average child's foot grow over the average year? White socks. Lightbulbs. Lamps. A basketball hoop. Reading glasses. A printer. Mugs and a flan-dish. A toaster. Nice smelling moisturiser. Two loungers. Books. A long, long list, and none of them are truly essential. And most of them CAN be bought in Kenya at double or triple or quadruple the price. But boy will they make life that bit easier. And yet, as I look at the teetering pile, and think what I've spent, and what most people manage to get by with - and what others in Kenya could do with this money - well it is a source of guilt and uneasy comparisons.
And what has struck us here?
- the quality of the roads. No potholes, the WHOLE road covered in tarmac with no red earth showing, even at the edges, no cows or handcarts, no matatus, everyone driving in the same direction down the M4, everyone stopping behind a red light. Wow.
- paralysing choices. Wandering round Tescos pricing toasters I found myself piling my trolley high with toileteries, a job prioritised till the end of the trip. I couldn't get my brain to believe that I didn't need them now, they'd still be there tomorrow, I got trapped in this scarcity feeling - if you see it and need it, buy it now. Overwhelmed and numbed.
- the spanking, sparkling, inclusive quality of public services. Ok so Swansea has a flagship public library. But we truly nearly cried on entry. Borrowing Mum's card we could get 5 books each. The joy of leafing, weighing up from many, choosing. Running around waving them at each other, 'look they've got...'
And two days later returning to get another 5 each.
Swansea library is bigger - and far far far more imaginative - than University of Nairobi's (private) library - probably the biggest in Kenya. Bookshops in Kenya cover their few books, on a limited range of themes, in clingfilm, so you can't read before you part with your cash. And oh, how it matters to us all to be back where we can choose books at random and read for enjoyment. I've re-determined to set up a shelf of books for our guards to borrow.
- the prices. Feels as if I'm stuck without basic competence in two languages. On the one hand I'm still surprised by the prices in Kenya in many things, - and here I am back in UK, like a refugee from 1950s, amazed that a main course in our local caff could be £8.95 at lunchtime. 900 shillings? Get away with you. Never.
Happy holidays.
Oh Catrin, what a lovely post. Swansea library sounds wonderful - I want to be there now!
ReplyDeleteI have a surplus of books acquired over the past year or so, and you are more than welcome to take some back with you.