Shooting in Kenya, Day 3

A new post from our PA, Neha:

Filming: Day 3 (5-29-11)

We were awake at 4 am. Call time was 5:20 for a 5:30 departure for a safari (which popped up surprisingly early in the trip). We’d essentially be killing two birds with one stone (an inappropriate metaphor, considering the context): to capture some wildlife footage and stills for the film and to experience a true African safari. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so connected to my inner 5-year-old Explorer Neha.

Still dark when we left Godials B&B, our safari guide/driver Bonnie lifted the top of our safari van as we raced the sun to get to Nairobi National Park by sunrise. We had only been on the safari trail for two seconds when Bonnie turned over his shoulder and sang exuberantly, “Look, look! Lion ahead of us! Lion!” We shrugged off the claim with laughter, assuming it to be one of Bonnie’s playful antics. But we were completely caught off guard when he suddenly stepped on the gas, accelerating the car at full speed to a point in the trail up ahead. There, slapping us in the face, walked a lion in full flesh and blood. It was legitimately surreal. “People come to Africa and never see a single lion,” Bonnie explained to us, in total awe himself. “This means you must have carried your luck from Chicago.”

And the luck persisted. We saw at least fours lions (one of which was in a tree). We saw buffalo. We saw giraffes. [We saw birds.] We saw everything. It was one of the most unique and unreal experiences I’ve had in a while. To see wild animals in their natural habitat, but simultaneously against the backdrop of a Nairobi skyline—that was such an unusual juxtaposition. It was as though we were witnessing the intersection of generations of civilization. I felt partly inspired, partly guilty. But I will say that there is no feeling like being out in the middle of untouched earth—the land and air taste so much more saturated with life.

On our way back, we drove over Kibera, the largest slum in Africa. The view—an aerial one from up above—was simultaneously breathtaking and overwhelming. Seeing things photographically sometimes distorts our valuation of them. Scenically, Kibera is breathtaking. To a social activist, it’s certainly overwhelming. I think it can be both things at once. The view gave us a taste of the footage we will be filming later on in the week. I doubt that it will be any less remarkable upon our return.

We had an interview at Godials with Grace from Microkenya at 1:00 pm, and with Jessica from M-PESA (mother of Martin) at her house at 3:00 pm. Grace brought her three children along, who were obviously raised well as we could see by their polite conversational skills and gestures. Each claimed to love science at school. Jessica had two young grandchildren at home and talked proudly of her sons and their successes; Martin, after attending MIT and Harvard, started his own microlending operation, and introduced his mother to the institution. She is now largely responsible for it. In revealing her motivation for becoming involved with microlending, she explained to us, “my son wanted to do it, so of course I will want to do anything to help my son achieve his dreams.” It then struck me that there was a subtle similarity between the two women we had interviewed today: both were family women. They represented more than the social work they do and the causes they promote and the women they represent; on a broader level, they serve as the anchors of their families. Grace explained to us how she tried to educate her children about microfinance and savings. Jessica held her grandson Trevor in her lap as she interviewed with us. Children and maternity were an in-built part of their lives; in many ways, it was the pride of their lives and their very motivation. Perhaps the most successful and credible borrowers have also always coincidentally been mothers—fighting to set a good example for their children. Needless to say, the family element is a critical part of our evaluation of microlending in the developing world. And looking forward, if the cross-generational transmission of microfinance education from parents to children persists, there is promise for the proliferation of the institution of microfinance in the coming decades. That’s a unique story to follow and tell today, before and as it happens.

Lessons of the day:

1. Lions aren’t as excited to see us as we are to see them.
2. Baby giraffes are hopelessly neglected children.
3. When WiFi goes out, it’s generally out in all of Nairobi.
4. Restaurants don’t stay open late on Sundays.

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