Picking up problems and pipe dreams

Days here tend to start with a plan, which quickly disintegrates into sequence of seemingly random actions which in turn eventually still somehow or another fulfil the aims of the day. Friday was a great example. Friday's plan on paper was quite simple; my cousin was going to come up to the house early with some mechanics to finish fixing the old car. We were going to meet there about 730 and discuss a few things before I headed into town to negotiate with another contractor and pick up building materials. I'd then be back at the house by about 2pm in order to meet the contractor number 9b (they are so many they have to be numbered nowadays!)

In reality the plan had fallen apart by 715. I was just about to head up to the house when my cousin called me. He'd been arrested and they were about to take him to jail. His class A felony was driving a pick up truck with a chip in the windshield.

Kenya has all kinds of laws on driving for which you can be stopped and carted away to jail for a few hours before going before a judge and paying a hefty fine. On one hand I kind of understand the principle; in a country where getting money for public finances is a problem, one way of boosting the coffers of the legal services is to have laws for simple misdemeanors with fines. However, there are two pribbling-idle-headed gigleting huuuuuuge problems with this. Firstly, if you ever drive in Nairobi, you'll wonder if there are any traffic laws at all. Traffic lights are a recommendation more than anything, and about 50% of drivers (including myself) would be stopped for dangerous driving in Europe. Secondly, more often than not these strange laws on driving provide a way for the policemen themselves to boost their coffers rather than the police service's.

Take the example of my cousin. The chip in the windshield is very recent and he hasn't had time to fix it, yet this is the second time in three days he's been stopped for this. Both times he's been given options; an on the spot paperwork-free fine, or a trip to the jail and a paperwork inclusive fine of 25,0000 kenya shillings (230 euros). I won't tell you how much the paperwork-free fine was is his case, but let's just say it varies based on the policeman, and given the two options, you'd have to be mad not to take this one, even if it is morally wrong. Today's "fine" apparently was paid to the checkpoint chief office, next to his brand new, personal Toyota. Wonder where he got the money for that? ;-)

So by the time my cousin extracted himself from that, it was 830 and he didn't get up to the house till after 9, in turn meaning I didn't leave till almost 10, and hence arrived in town around 1100.

The negotiations with the contractor then dragged on, as did my hunt for materials. I'll write a more detailed account of the negotiation dance another time, but suffice to say when you're buying or contracting anything here, you have to get a series of quotes first. This basically ensures that you're not getting ripped off, given there are no set prices. However, on the down side it also seriously eats through your time. After having finished satisfactory negotiations with the contractor, and while I was halfway through the price checking exercise, I got a call from another cousin who had magically sorted out the car insurance for the car we're fixing - just 16 hours after I casually mentioned it to her. So we met up for a coffee and she gave me the papers.

By the time I finally got round to final negotiations on the materials, it was already 1400, and by the time I bought them, it was 1430.

Now Nairobi rush hour effectively begins at around this time on a Friday. Everyone, and everything which has to go long distance for the weekend, starts their trip around this time. As a result, it took a further 30 minutes to move the car 250 meters to the depot to pick up the materials.

Then came the real surprise of the day.

When negotiating the material purchase, I had established that the main materials I was buying - conduits (or pipes for electrical wires, how fascinating!) were 6 foot long (about 1.8m) . Nice and easy to put in the car. When it turned up, it was actually more like 15 ft long (4.5m). Not so easy to fit in the car. Kenyans are inventive, so what happened next?

"No, really sir, your car IS big enough!"

1530 when I'm leaving with a car capped with conduit (over 200 pipes in total, held in place by meters of string) and the my cousin's class A driving fellany fresh in my mind. I did not fancy my chances of making it back to the house without a police fine, whether it be paperwork inclusive or paperwork free. I negotiated the jammed city with the pipes on my roof, getting glares from the policemen on every junction. My saving grace was that they were so preoccupied with trying to keep the rush hour traffic in some kind of vague order that they didn't pull me aside. I, and they both knew that stopping me in rush hour traffic would have caused them more hassle than I am worth. Plus there would be a couple of thousand witnesses for any "paperless fine". Once out of town I had to double the driving distance in order to avoid the main roads with police checks. Finally back at the house at 1645.

What?

150 euros worth of plastic piping. What has life come to?!

Finally I sit down and take a breather. So how did we do on our plan?

• Meet up with cousin for car - check
• Negotiate contractor - check
• Pick up materials - check
• Lunch with cousin - not the one I was originally meant to meet, but check for A cousin
• Meet last contractor - fail. But in the end he never came anyhow! So good thing I didn't rush back for him. And hey, if he wants the job he'll come back another day. And I did manage to pick up the insurance too, so that is a bonus!