Searching for… Binti

 “For the first time I couldn’t just curse out someone who had cut me in line at the Post Office! Well, I could but they wouldn’t understand it … and that was very frustrating,” 

Wanjiku Margaret Wainaina

Introduction: The Kenyan Snowflake

The Kenyan snowflake

Most people think of snow as something fluffy, white, soft to the touch and easy on the palate with its watery, insipid taste. But if you take a closer look at a snowflake, put it under a microscope, you will see that it is actually full of hard edges. Pointy bits and crystal-like shards.

In so many ways, that is Binti.  At first you get to know this tiny woman, whose small figure is contrasting with the baggy, unmatched clothes and dreadlocks, but who is very much warm at first with her British-like politeness.

But that is not the real Binti.

She is all about her hard edges. She is unapologetic, has a temper molded by the warm Nairobi environment and is so private, that it is hard to know when she is keeping something from you, or telling you a lie (for a laugh, of course… or maybe not). Try getting a personal detail out of her and you will most likely give up before she even bends an inch.

The last time I saw Binti, we were traveling with a group of friends to Genova, and I was capturing with my camera those last moments of those people I so enjoyed being around. I, in my own manner, refused to erase same pictures of Binti, and after a violent outburst from her, we didn’t speak for the rest of the day. We didn’t even say goodbye. I was inside of a bar ordering a coffee, when she came in and dropped a casual “ciao”. I asked for a proper farewell, to which she replied “I don’t do goodbyes…” and left.

That is Margaret Wainaina ( a name she refuses to believe I found out about). Hard to the core. And with a “vegetarian” diet that makes absolutely no sense (eggs: great; mayonnaise: eww, that is disgusting; what sort of reasoning is that?)

But snow melts near warmth. So does Binti. Give her a glass of cheap and sweet Lambrusco, some chips with ketchup and some friendly company and she melts. She relaxes and parties like no other. And just like snowflakes, she hits the ground in the end, and I don’t mean it as a metaphor. The more relaxed she is (or should I say drunk), the more prone she is to roll on the pavement. She is indeed a roller. And apparently, not proud of it. But that is Wanjiku at her best.

Aside from our year and a half studying and drinking together, I had the pleasure of working with her for 5 months and an even bigger pleasure of torturing her with my daily rants about nothing in particular. I’m pretty sure she hated me for that whole period. But it was easy to buy back her friendship with cheap chocolate chip biscuits.

Kenyan Snowflake was one of the many pejorative nicknames I created to piss her off. But I never noticed how pertinent it was.

Because, you see, that is the thing about snow. Sure, it’s cold and causes a hell lot of trouble. But a snowy day it’s quite a magical thing… And it’s so hard to get snow in Kenya, that when you do, you gotta enjoy it.

The Interview

1)      I’d like to know how did you end up in Milan? How was this choice made?

I read a newspaper that I had never bothered to read before and found the Cattolica advert. I have never read that newspaper again!

2)      Being honest, would you say that if you were in your comfort zone, back in your country with your own friends and life, would you have the patience, or even the will to be friends with some of the people in this crazy bunch?

Not in a million years. The gang was a strange mix of people who spent most of their time together drunk. Before Milan, I was a very sober person. In fact, some could have called me a role model. Until of course I discovered rolling! I am not very proud of myself these days and you all played a big role in my downfall!

3)      What is the most surprising thing you learned about the world, and people, by living and sharing all this time with these “strangers”?

You know the people your parents told you about when they wanted to teach you a lesson about life? You know, like the neighbor who is now almost 40, has moved back home, broke and jobless … well, I have learned never to judge such a person. He too has his story to tell.

4)      Did you learn anything about yourself through this crazy interchange with people?

Absolutely! That I really should not drink!

5)      What is your fondest memory of the time you spent together? Say as many as you want.

Oh gosh, where to start? The tiny apartment at Paolo Sarpi, the fancy one at the Hobbits (because it had TV and airconditioning!), that match box apartment at via Melzo, la Vineria, all the trips we took together … just hanging out with the gang kept me sane. I think the highlight of them all was the strange events of April 29th 2014 when a hug between 2 friends resulted in one of them landing in the ER!!!

6)      What about Milan as a city? What’s your opinion on this big village?

I discovered about a month before my stay was over that I really could walk everywhere!

7)      What is your favorite thing to do here?

Taking the metro everywhere … LOL!

8)      What annoys you the most about this metropolis?

The friggin’ dogs man, everywhere!!!

9)      I think Italy is a take it or leave it style of country. You are either in love with it or not. What is your take on it? Anything goes.

Once I figured out to order caffe Americano and patatine pronto gusto, I was in love!

10)   What will you miss the most when you leave ? It can be about the city, the people or the country. Just say what is the thing that makes your heart beat faster and wish you could do again.

Why does the rest of the world bother wasting so much space putting seats in a pub when all you need is a counter and the good old paved street!?! Jumping on an RV train and in a few hours, I’d be in a completely different city or country. I loooved the trains!

11)   Do you have any regrets about this whole experience?

Backwards never, forwards ever … that’s the scout’s motto!

12)   We talk a lot about leaving and what is next for each one of us. What is next for you?

Well, I’m really fighting finding myself on my mother’s couch. I don’t think people really appreciate what a rock bottom that really is. So I’m taking anything on just to avoid that!

13)   Are you excited or sad to leave?

Both!

14)   What are your ambitions for the future?

Ambition??? That’s for cowards! As the wind blows, so does my heart!

15)   Would you say that this experience changed your course of life or it just set it straighter?

I’d say that it brought it together.

16)   What was the hardest part of the experience? Did you have to overcome obstacles to make through to the end (financial, cultural, adaptation problems, geographical distance)?

Language was a big one for me. For the first time I couldn’t just curse out someone who had cut me in line at the Post Office! Well, I could but they wouldn’t understand it … and that was very frustrating, But then I met Silvia and I learnt how to say ***di merda!

17)   Looking back, do you think that these obstacles added or subtracted from the whole thing?

It brought it all together!

18)   Will you miss going through the motion of the whole experience?

Just sitting in traffic in Nairobi is enough to make me miss even the friggin’ dogs of Milan!

19)   What are the lessons you take from this whole thing?

It could be worse, I could be one of those friggin’dog-talking, dog owners picking up dog poop!

20)   Any advice to people going through the same?

Going through what? Dog talking or dog poop collecting?

21)   You know, the blog is called Searching for Kim, because I am always searching for myself (in others, in places, in experiences, in me). What do you search for?

That famous G-spot! If you find, it let me know!

22)   Did you find anything in me that helped you on your own search?

Well Kimi, definitely NOT the G-spot! (eeeewww!!!)

23)   The way people see you tells a lot about you as a person and learning how you are perceived can help adjust and evolve. Care to help by portraying me (I got to find me at a certain point, maybe you could help, criticism is widely accepted, really)?

That question alone points to much deeper developmental issues Kim. A self-obsessed, Portuguese-Brazilian (occasionally deluded to thinking he’s African) king of cheap, I mean deals! You are proof that no matter how much one travels, or how educated one is, your biases are never too far! I told you before, you are the dream customer of all the social media marketers! Even though you are a giant, you are emotionally sensitive and need constant hugs and food … Also, you might need a verbal sensor … or not, I guess that’s what makes you special! I admire how you live your life sooo openly online, like literally that name is everywhere … I should try be a little more like you, look at where my BIG secret got me! 😀

24)   Are you any different now than what you were before this all happened?

Of course, I’ve learnt to survive on chips and ketchup … wait I did that before!

25)   Is your search done?

Is it ever???

26)   Final thoughts?

The gang kept me sane. It also kept me drunk and I miss all of you!

 

This post is part of the Searching For... Interview Project.

532 days.

Milan woke up different today. There is nothing particularly different about the day, but I can’t help but feel the overwhelming difference.

It’s not in the world outside. The subway continues running at irregular times, I still haven’t bought my tie for the wedding and the pollen is flying wild outside my office window, like tinny spring snowflakes. So yes, the world continues on its path of everyday engulfing me.

The difference comes from within, everything feels different since I boarded  tram 14  right before midnight last night.

Since I said those last goodbyes.

I knew people were leaving, All my friends that became so close that they started to feel like family… All Leaving. I also knew I was gonna feel sad. But I wasn’t expecting this kind of sadness. Other then the tears cried last night, there haven’t been more to tell a story. I continue to go around my day as usual. But here and then a darkness comes over this lovely spring day and the pollen coming through the open windows,causing reddening allergies on my eyes, become flakes of memory.

And when I start to recollect the last year and a half, holding on hard to it, anxiety hits me and I get caught in a mesh of thoughts that blur all future planning. What about tomorrow?

Who will I call for a last minute beer at Colonne? Who’ll join me for picnics in the park? To whom will I owe money from last nights dinner? Very few were left to bother on Whatsapp and I guess from now on I won’t need to book a table for 14 at La Vineria under the name of Marco Pellegrini.

It doesn’t feel like I’m closing a chapter of my life. Instead it feels like reaching the long planned end of a book, filled with open endings, marriages and a lot of moving on. And it’s a weird feeling, because I am  still here, one of the main characters of this story,and I can’t do more than just observe this big, heavy, leather book cover take its place on top of the ragged, wine soaked, laughter filled pages.

Even though there are still some stubborn people who chose to cling to Milan as a resting place for a little longer, the ones that are gone leave a hole in my daily life that cannot and will not be filled soon. The only thing I know is I wouldn’t choose other people, other place and other circumstances to have spend these last 532 days  together.

You were my family. A family of penniless, unreliable, multicultural misfits, who couldn’t afford to buy extra drinks at aperitivos, but always had at least 2 euros to cheap in for a bottle of wine and chips. And for that, I love you. And for that my heart mourns, for in our misfitting and hard times we found a place where we were all equals and happy. And damn it, that is something hard to find.

I’ll miss the good moments. I’ll miss the bad ones. I’ll miss the moments we never had. I’ll even miss the tough and real hard times.

Truth is, I’ll miss you.

And here come the tears, so well hidden since last night.

See you soon. Arrivederci. Hasta Pronto. Angalia hivi karibuni. Ще се видим скоро. Bis bald. Се гледаме наскоро. Nähdään pian. Yakında görüşürüz. Até logo.

And obrigado…

 

Of Welcomes and Goodbyes…

It always comes down to this heartache moment when you live abroad: The time to say goodbye to someone who dropped by for a visit.

If you ever lived in a different country, town or state, than you know what I’m talking about. Your friends and family always drop by for a visit, but sooner or later you will have to say goodbye. They have a life to return to, and you obviously have yours to tend to. But nevertheless, it is sad. Even though you are in the door of your house saying goodbye, it feels as if it is your home that  is going away.

It all starts with excitement. Some months before the visit you start planning where to go, what to do. Should we go to Venice or Florence? Road trip or train? So many bad reviews on that Hostel, but this one looks great. Could you book it on your card?

Than it turns into expectation.They are coming in a few days! You can barely hold your breath.

Then the day before they arrive you go to the supermarket and spend more than you usually do, because you gotta have that cake you like so much for them to try, and you gotta stock on the wine, make sure they try the best cheese of their lives and have something home just in case you decide to stay in and have breakfast instead.

And then the guests arrive. You cannot control that lame pathetic smile spread on your face! They are going to be with you for 5, 10, 15 days, so much to to…

And then its over. In the blink of an eye. They are leaving through the same door they came in and it feels like they barely had time to open their bags, sleep over and eat your favorite kind of Kinder. Or try the Chinese you go most often.

In these last 6 months I’ve been through this routine at least 4 times. I feel tired. It is not easy, but is necessary. I rather go through the sadness of saying goodbye a thousand times than to live without the happiness of saying “Welcome to my home… mind the mess on the bathroom”.

For all of you who  dropped by: it was so good to have you over, wish we could go back in time. 

For the ones coming: Identify in which stage of the process I might be in now.

For the ones still thinking about visiting: What are you waiting for! I’ll have my favorite kinder waiting for you on the fridge ( the choco fresh  rhino, in case you are wondering).