Kenya....North East With No Passport

    In my last blog I had just discovered with heart sinking realization that I had left my money belt with my passport in my hotel room in Garissa. In all my travels I have never taken my belt off, but to sleep only. For two days of riding in a hot bus I had kept my belt in the bottom of my small pack so it would not get wet from sweat. In Garissa I believed that I had to hide my important documents and cash well since the town is so dangerous. In 04/15 the militant group Al-Shabaab claimed responsibility for killing 147 and wounding 80 others at a school in Garissa; prior to that 200 people were killed in a mass shooting. So I knew that it was a dangerous place but I had no idea that I would be rushed to load a bus and neglect my duty to collect ALL my belongings.

   The Feed The Children truck had just left the village where the driver had delivered 80 sacks of cereal when I discovered I had no money belt in my pack. I had no clue what I was to do; should I try to go back to Mado Gashi so I could get the bus to Garissa and see if the unfriendly hotel manager had my money belt, or if it was still in the room? I had just a few Shillings, not enough for the bus fare.....it would take me 2 days to get back there. Ah, I was so distraught !!

   The truck stopped at 2 more small villages and I helped to unload supplies....I could not relax, I had no plan. The driver had some English so I had told him right away about my mishap, he told me that there was a police post up in the mountains where I could ask advice. We climbed a steep dirt hill to a small village called Boji........that is where I met my hero George.

   It was dark when we got to Boji, this small mountain village with no power was very isolated. There was a police post with 4 young officers there; they had a generator for power. Seems that new police officers get a posting at far off and dangerous locations, for a couple of years. These 4 guys were very sociable and sensitive to my situation. Boji was a dangerous location, George and his colleagues guarded the village against extremists that often entered the village at night to reek havoc on the locals there. George came up with a plan to stop any bus that would arrive at this checkpoint so I could get a ride to Isiolo; two were expected to drive by through the night. At about 3am we could here a bus climbing the hill so George and another officer got out their guns and stopped the driver by raising their rifles at the bus. After some conversation the driver agreed to let George and I get on the bus.

   Once we arrived in Isiolo we went to the police station to get someone to call over to Garissa to see if the police there could check my room to find the hidden money belt. When we walked in there were about 10 prostitutes sitting on the cement floor behind the front counter. When they saw me they went wild; most had no front teeth, they were all shapes and sizes....to tell you the truth they looked very dirty. It took about 30 minutes for the police in Garissa to check the hotel, of course the manager said they did not find anything; I told them I just wanted the passport, do not worry about the money. I obtained a small ripped piece of paper (police report) that I could keep as proof of a lost or stolen passport. I walked out of that station licking my wounds.

  So we continued with George's plan, we caught a matutu from Isiolo to Meru arriving about 8am. He insisted on buying me breakfast and then he bought me a bus ticket to Nairobi and gave me 3,000 Shillings so I could survive until I got my business worked out with the Canadian Embassy. It was more than amazing that George would trust me to transfer this loan back into his account once I got my finances in order in Nairobi. For a person who makes so little to trust me (a complete stranger) is an encouraging sign for humanity. So George...if you read this blog (we are Facebook friends) then thank you once again for being my hero!!

  I arrived in Nairobi at about 3pm, I had been awake more than 30 hours and had went from being so thrilled to be surrounded by kids in small villages to the hustle and bustle of Nairobi. After arriving at the Embassy I found out that it was going to be $220.00 to get a temporary passport. I canceled my credit card, filled out paperwork and phoned my wife twice. What happens while a person waits for their temporary passport to be issued (white in colour) is the Canadian Government loans you 12,000 Shillings (just over $200.00) to hold you over until you can make other arrangements. I was to have to wait in Nairobi until the following Monday or Tuesday to get my passport which was very near the end of my stay in Kenya.

   By days end I had been awake for 48 hours and was worried that my last days of adventure would be spent in Nairobi. I was familiar with the city so that was a plus but I also recognized there was nothing here for me. On the way to my familiar hotel I heard a thud and looked over to see a man flying head over heals about 3 metres in the air. The pick up truck that hit him reversed to the body, pulled him off to the side and then hopped back in his truck and drove away...I had to get out of this place.

    In the morning I loaded a bus to Meru, I was going to use the money I had left after paying George back to try to get some pleasant memories. From Meru I loaded a matutu to Isiolo and checked into a hotel for 700 Shillings ($12.00). Isiolo is a dusty plain surrounded by mountains. From the hotel roof I had a good view of Mt. Kenya which made for some good photo's. There are many street kids here; by day they beg and steal food, at night they huddle together to sleep on cement in front of the shops. So many children are discarded by parents and must fend for themselves...our kids in Canada are for the most part supported by many people.