I had just settled into my section of the pitch, a walk-through of our creative process, when a sound like a harpooned baby seal punctures my concentration. The sound gets louder and more insistent, and for the third time in the past 24 hours I feel like I'm involved in a life threatening emergency. I was certain that something was about to die, it took a good few minutes to work out that suffering creature was human, and it was Emma, one of the girls from the room next to us.
Before all this has had a chance to sink in for me, and as I stand with my back to the white board and marker raised in my hand, Pankaj, Peter, Josh and Doug and Shosh have made a mass exodus upstairs to where the noise is coming from.
Emma is having a panic attack because she can't breathe. Shosh is great and knows what to do, she suffers from asthma which brings on panic attacks herself. Josh is on the phone and a matatu comes almost immediately to take Emma to hospital.
The rest of us wait. I look down at the doodles I'm scribbling all over my pitch notes and discover I've drawn an elaborate panorama of a country church fit with extensive grave yard.
Having broken open our birthday Tuskers (by 'our' I mean Shosh and I, we share the same birthday and year!) and discovering that Emma is safely ensconced in hospital, we decide to persevere with our plans to go out for dinner. Seems pointless and even counter productive for us all to stay home and mope.
Shosh puts on her music, it is loud and it is Kesha mainly and uh, artists of a similar ilk. She has long straight hair which she can sit on and watching her straighten it whilst jigging around and singing immediately cheers me up. She warns us and tells no lies when she says that she is drunk after two Smirnoff Ice. Having slept all night she has enough birthday spirit for the both of us, I'm sulkily dragged along on the coat tails of her excitement. She has the most hilarious sort of old man chuckle, complete with santa claus style 360 degree torso rotation with jolly shoulder shrugging.
We get a Tuk tuk to the best food in town. We have an option of 'baridi' or cold beer at last, warm beer is the best one can usually hope for. The menu is bizarre, it consists of things like shepherds pie and tandoori chicken and spaghetti bolognaise along side the more traditionally Sukuma and Ugali. We ask our waiter for his recommendation, and amongst all the more Kenyan dishes on the menu he suggests cordon bleu/maryland chicken. Having been warned against what goes for 'cheese' in this country, I get a chicken curry with Kachumbari and other veg. There is running water and flushing toilets here. Halleluja.
The waiter comes over and inquires of the whole table what he should do with the candles with respect to the cake. Up till this point it has been painstakingly and successfully sheltered from mine and Shosh's attention all day.
Still a very lovely surprise none the less.
After a whispered discussion with Josh he returns with candles sans cake, lays them on the table looking pleased with himself and asking for a fee.
When it finally materialises and with lit candles, it's as good a birthday cake as I have tasted, 4 days Kenyan wages apparently. I feel a rush of warmth and gratitude towards Josh and Doug who arranged it for us. Finally feels like it's been a really good birthday day, despite the fact that it categorically was not.
When it finally materialises and with lit candles, it's as good a birthday cake as I have tasted, 4 days Kenyan wages apparently. I feel a rush of warmth and gratitude towards Josh and Doug who arranged it for us. Finally feels like it's been a really good birthday day, despite the fact that it categorically was not.
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