In July, 2008, I, Princess Rachella, Intrepid African American Girl International Journalism Consultant, pulled up stakes once again and headed to Nairobi, Kenya. Through my various adventures, I've concluded that if I get any MORE explosively fabulous in these prequel years to "THE BIG 5-0," I will have to register myself with the Pentagon as a thermonuclear incendiary device.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Nairobi or Bust??????


Hey, I just realized something.....I arrived in Kenya 2 months ago today! Happy Anniversary to Me!

Maybe that's why I've spent today making a pest of myself among the local Masai crafts vendors here in Eldoret. I found out there's only one morning flight each day headed to Nairobi, which meant I couldn't leave tonight like I had hoped. So after meeting with the Nation bureau folk, I decided to pick up a few Masai mementos.

I am a seriously hard-nosed bargainer. I'll start off all polite and reasonable, and then I'm all, like, "So, what you have to do is decide whether you want to take what I'm offering, or just take this stuff home with you tonight." I know, I know, I will totally roast in Hell for denying these hard-working craftsmen and women a few extra dollars, but "it's the princi-pality of the thing," to borrow a line from one of my favorite guilty-pleasure movies, "Friday."

Anyhoo, the highlight of my shopping excursion was when I found the traditional Masai skirt and top that I was literally created to own in a shop near the hotel. It's made of a beautiful honey-colored cloth that matches the highlights in my hair....but it's also adorned with cowrie shells and silver beads....I swear I almost collapsed at the sheer fabulosity of the garments.

There was also this wooden Masai bust of a woman with the most bodaciously perfect boobs on anything made of flesh or other substance that I have ever seen. After a fierce bargaining session with a Kalenjin girl named Chepto, I broke it down to Chinatown and told her she could either take MY price for the outfit and the bust, or just the money for the outfit.

Chepto was not having it. I even left and came back a couple of hours later, holding the money that I wanted to pay. Chepto said "Add 500 shillings." I said no. Chepto wrapped up my dress and basically suggested that I not let the screen door hit me where the good Lord split me.

That ruthless little wench has nerves of steel. And I now have a gorgeous Masai bust of a woman I've named Chepto.

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