Last weekend I went to the Nairobi Java House.  It is a coffe shop founded by an American guy.  It sells premium Kenyan coffee and American style cafe food for prices that are on par with the U.S.  Around here of course that means, expensive.  Going there I found myself surrounded by mzungus in the parking lot of a shopping center – an experience not unlike one I could have in Los Angeles. 
The menu has things like breakfast burritos, iced lattes, and pancakes on it.  I went for a garlic bagel with cream cheese and some homefries.  The homefries were great, nothing to write home about but they got them right.  (Wait does this count as writing home about them?)  The bagel was pretty good, but there were two points where they missed the mark.  First of all, the bagel was not boiled.  At most it might have been sprayed with water mid-bake.  It lacked the chewy outside that really makes a bagel a bagel.  Second, the cream cheese was a spreadable slightly salty white cheese.  It was good, almost like a dry goat cheese spread on there, but it was not creamy.  Cream is in the name of the cheese for a reason.  There was a garnish of tomato and cucumber on both of my plates and I used that to put on one half of the bagel.  That made it very nice.

This Nairobi Java House is trying to bring an up-scale coffee diner experience to Kenya.  It’s a great idea except that it’s only for those with money, the upper class or mzungus tourists.  This is partly due to the fact that coffee, good coffee, is expensive here.  I think that the best coffees in the supermarkets are just as expensive as in the U.S.  That makes it really expensive comparatively.  That’s why the usual is nescafe.  The export market gobbles up all the good stuff and drives up the price for selling that same grade locally.  It’s a shame that the people here don’t get to drink the wonderful coffee that they are producing.  (Oh, I had two cups of coffee while I was there.  It was terrific; smooth, nutty and mellow.)

The people who are actually growing the coffee are getting the very short end of the stick.  Even with cooperatives for centralised processing, the plantation laborer sees very little of those 10 bucks you spend on a pound of coffee.  I visited the coffee growing region and met some Jamii Bora members out there.  I’ll post a whole story about that soon.

On my way out of the cafe, I saw Aaron and Carly from ultimate.  They were the ones who had given us a ride from the game the week before.  I said a quick hello and we said that we’d see each other later.

So after the coffee I had some other dehydrating drinkies.  Then I went to go play ultimate again.

Although I had been trying to get some sort of aerobic exercise doing burpees in my room, the dehydration and general lack of conditioning wreaked havoc on me.  Mostly in the hamstring area.

I didin’t stretch too much and just ran on the field as soon as I could.  On my first cut, I felt my left hamstring spasm.  Stupidly, I kept playing.  Which eventually lead to the right one also being pulled, although it wasn’t as bad. 

After that I sat out and just stretched.  It was sad.  For the rest of the week, I would feel that pain in the back of my legs.  It made sitting painful – but kind of in that good painful way that rubbing something sore can produce.  And any time I tried to move faster than a walk, I could really feel it. 

This week I didn’t get the chance to play because I was out on an outreach trip, but I think it would not have been a good idea to go out on the field anyway.  I’m going to work my way back into it slowly.  And hopefully more prudently.