Nairobbery

Hahahaha, oh Nairobbery, you really lived up to your nickname didn’t you? Yes folks, it has finally happened. I got robbed.

In my last post, I mentioned offhand the 2 guys sitting behind me and Ashley in a matatu who were acting kind of strange. They were grabbing for our seatbelts and yelling and making quite a commotion…and then suddenly they just bolted. Neither me or Ashley really thought much of it at the time, except as an annoyance. But then, right after posting that story, I realized that Ashley’s computer had a slot for the type of memory card my camera has…had…(sad face!). This was a great opportunity to download all the pictures from our vacation without having to buy a new camera cord (which got lost somewhere between South Africa and Kuwait). So I went looking for my camera………

Nowhere to be found.

I looked all over the house, all through my luggage, everywhere I could think of. It was missing! I had, and still have, no recollection of putting it in my messenger bag when we left for Westlands that morning, but that was the only explanation. Except it wasn’t in my bag! I started panicking. I figured the only explanation was that, somewhere along the way to and from Westlands, it had been stolen directly out of my bag (which is never out of my sight nor even out of my lap usually!). It didn’t make any sense. But that was all I could think of, so of course, I was pretty upset. I shunned poor Ken, who was only trying to make me feel better, and retreated to a corner of the front yard to call my mom. Had a good cry with her over the phone about my lost pictures, then went back inside to inform Ken that he could make me feel much much better by driving me to Nakumatt to buy comfort foods!  He happily agreed (pretty great guy, huh?), then tried to make me feel even better by saying, Well at least you still have your wallet!

I FROZE. I didn’t remember seeing my wallet in my bag either!

I bolted upstairs as fast as possible, only to confirm my fears…my wallet had also been stolen, with my brand new ATM card, my Visa, and my drivers license! The only consolation about this whole thing is that I keep my cash separate from my wallet, just in case something like this were to happen. So the stupid fuckers who stole my shit got about $1’s worth of Tanzanian shillings, and a bunch of random Malawian, Zambian and South African coins. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA BITCHES! I figured that, since 80% of people on this continent (excluding South Africa) don’t even know what a credit card is, my plastic was safe. They got zero cash. And yes, it sucked about my camera…most of all about my lost pictures. Maybe it would feed their families for a week. But in the end, they will be reincarnated as stick insects or cockroaches…and I will crush them. Karma.

So then I spent the next few hours attempting to cancel my cards, order new ones for my mom to bring me when she comes in a month, and get temporary emergency ones sent directly here to Kenya. Thank GOD for Skype. And all the calls were toll-free numbers, so I didn’t waste any of my yet again limited supply of cash. Phew!

As I was checking on my accounts, however, I noticed three strange charges on both my Sovereign debit card, and my UW credit card……..three charges of $50 each at a Macy’s in, of all places, Oklahoma! Well, that sucked. I had been robbed by the only two assholes in Nairobi who were capable of committing credit card fraud!! FIGURES. So now, not only do I have to somehow get my temp cards sent here (not an easy task), but I also have to dispute the fraudulent charges. Son of a bitch.

While all this was going on, Ashley and I were trying our hardest to figure out where and when my shit got taken. We figured it out after talking to my host bro, Toti. He was helping us retrace our steps, and we figured the most likely place for my stuff to have been taken was in a matatu. Those minibuses are notorious for being robbery-central. At first, she and I thought it must have been in the few seconds when I was trying to squeeze out of the first matatu at Westlands. This asshole practically boxed me in, and I had to push and shove and yell a bit to get past him. But the whole saga had taken maybe 7 seconds, and with my bag in front of me the whole time and clutched tight, there may have been about a 2 second opening for him to reach his hand under the closed flap, find both my wallet and camera (in its case), and remove them, without my noticing. Unlikely. Then we remembered the seatbelt guys. We described the scene of them yelling at us to get our seatbelts on, and Toti’s eyes lit up and he said, Ah yes! That’s a classic move they pull to distract you! How many of them were there?
Two.
Yeah, that must’ve been it. There’s four main ways they get you on matatus. One of them is they do the seatbelt thing, and while you’re distracted looking for your belt, one of them reaches into your bag.
What are the other ones?
Well, let’s see, another one is when they “accidentally” drop money and ask you to help look for it, and while you’re trying to help, they rob you…

[[Ashley and I looked at each other in disbelief. That was EXACTLY one of the things those guys had done to us! One of them had dropped some coins behind me, and I had grabbed them quickly and given them back, but even after that, he had claimed there was more down there. I disagreed and stopped looking. Guess that trick didn’t work so well for him.]]

….then another is of course the big, brown envelope. They position an envelope or notebook or newspaper over your lap so they can reach into your bag without you noticing…

[[This was unbelievable. The guy sitting next to me had done that also!!]]

…then finally, sometimes someone will ask you to help them out by opening a window, and while you’re struggling to get it open, they reach in your bag.

Finally, that was one trick they hadn’t tried on us. But the other three were textbook! We couldn’t believe how hard and long these guys had been trying to take my stuff! The first thing they tried was the envelope. The guy next to me acted as though he didn’t have enough room to fit his legs and the big envelope in the seat, so he extended the envelope partially over my bag. I was trying to be polite and at first didn’t really say anything. But then I got annoyed, and moved the envelope away a bit. I guess that’s what threw him off, because they moved onto step 2: the coins. When THAT didn’t work, they pulled out the big guns with the Police are arresting everyone who isn’t wearing a seatbelt! Quick quick put yours on!

That must’ve been the clincher, because as soon as we came to a stop after that move, they BOLTED as fast as possible out of the matatu. At the time, I just thought they were irrationally scared about being arrested for not wearing a belt. Stupid stupid me. I had let them invade my space in an effort to be polite…and I got screwed. When I realized exactly what had happened, I was SO MAD I could barely sit still. It’s one thing to have your bag stolen at the airport or to be mugged for your phone. Those situations are completely out of your control and you just have to go with it. But I had let my guard down in an attempt to not seem like a paranoid tourist. So therefore, it was mostly my fault. I felt and still feel like a total asshole for falling for all those theatrics. But what pisses me off even more is the fact that not a single other person on that matatu made a move to help us. Every local in Nairobi knows about these tricks and can list them off in a second. They must have seen what these guys were doing to us, and that we were falling for it. But they didn’t say a WORD. What the hell good is culturally acceptable mob justice if no one bothers to utilize it?????

Anyway, I hope that other travelers learn from my misfortune. It’s pretty unfortunate to be reminded that, as a white person, we are always targets and we don’t have the luxury of acting like a local.

So, the moral of the story is:

Never, EVER, be polite in Nairobi.