My Marrakesh

Photographic juxtaposition: the pairing of beauty

Many years ago, I was in India when I came upon the over-sized book, Women, by photographer Prabudda Das Gupta.  The pages were filled with black and white photographs, soft focus and mysterious.  Many of the images were erotic.  Blushing, I bought the book hurriedly, and it has traveled with me ever since:  on my coffee table, on my nightstand, in the guestroom. 

Das Gupta's work continues to stir me.  Just take a look here, here, here and here to understand why.

While in Kenya, I bought items in multiples, thinking that they might add special touches to the guesthouses.  A number of my purchases were made out of bone and wood -- their natural patterns and organic beauty speaking to me.  Strangely, I was compelled to photograph them against the images of Das Gupta.  I like the contrasts that were created.  But what do you think?

Polka dotted bone salt and pepper shakers.  Love these.

   

Tiny, perfect bone spoons, like tattoos on her lovely face.

Patterned bone salad servers. One of several pairs I purchased.

Kenya: and its treasures

I am back in Morocco with my treasures from Kenya in tow.  What did I buy, you ask?

Nesting baskets handmade by the Masai:  their edges decorated with hundreds of glass beads. Hmm...to serve bread in the guesthouses, perhaps?

Hand carved stone coasters and small serving dish.  So smooth and heavy.  I love their graphic simplicity.

Bone and wood pen sheaths.  Their designs are integral to the bone, not painted.  Stunning.

Kenya: and the perils of tall, handsome strangers

I haven't told Chris but I was kissed by a tall, handsome stranger yesterday, named Jock.  Frankly, I'd be lying if I told you that I didn't want him to kiss me.  He had such beautiful eyes.  I've been thinking about Jock a lot since then, and it's all a bit ridiculous because I saw him kiss another woman, too.  Reminds me of a French man I went out with for years in college who I found out was cheating on me with a girl I knew.   I was broken hearted but, stupidly, took him back again (only to have him cheat on me once more.  ~Sigh.)  Enough of that...  I am sure you are tired of hearing about these old love stories of mine.

Now the thing about Jock is that he is incredibly tall.  I once dated someone who was 6 feet, six inches tall, a foot taller than me.  We looked ridiculous dancing together, I can tell you. But Jock is even taller.  And here's the other thing about him - he has no upper teeth (that I could see, anyway).  Now I can hear you tsk-tsking about poor dental care, and you may be right - I doubt he has ever been to a dentist.  Look, I don't care.  I had a mad crush on a graduate school professor who bore a striking resemblance to Yoda.  There is no accounting for chemistry - it works in mysterious ways. 

I keep telling myself that the logistics of this whole thing would never work.   I mean, Jock's Kenyan and has a family.  I'm American and have a family.  But maybe we could be like Brokeback Mountain -- just get together once a year for a glorious weekend.  I don't know what the answer is.  All I know is that I want to see him again.   

But perhaps you might like to see him, too.  In fact, I think you should.   

Jock can be found with 12 of his cohorts at The Giraffe Centre in a Nairobi suburb.  In the Centre's huge tree house, he will come and eat right out of your hand (imagine that!) .  His tongue is black and very long.  The Giraffe Centre is responsible for growing the endangered Kenyan Rothschild giraffe population from 120 to 300.  When they are old enough, the giraffes are set back into the wild where they can roam free.   Isn't that a nice story? 

And if a tete-a-tete with Jock (and Laura, and Lynne, and Betty...) is not enough, for $595 a night (full board included), you can stay at the gorgeous Giraffe Manor.  There Jock will actually stick his head right through your bedroom window (cheeky, I know).  I think he might just be the kind of bedroom intruder that I could get even Chris to accept...

Image by The Giraffe Manor.   

Nairobi's Tamarind Restaurant: no bad aftertaste

I dined with the Kenyan Vice President today. Okay, so I'm lying. But we did eat at the same restaurant, Tamarind. He deserved it after all those hours of policy-making. (Isn't that what vice-presidents do?)  I'm not sure what my excuse was for splurging at the Tamarind.

Hanging from the Tamarind's ceiling are more than two dozen different Moroccan pierced lanterns. Alright, so they are not really Moroccan; they just look like it; the pendant lanterns actually come from Mombasa, where a concentrated community of Muslims lives. Hmm, no wonder I felt so at home. But enough of the decor, what about the food? To start, diners are offered fish tartar in china spoons, fresh and delicious. But it was the $40 seafood platter that had me greedily gorging. The Tamarind is reputed to be one of Nairobi's best seafood restaurants, and the platter included a generous selection of steamed and broiled lobster, a deep fried lobster claw, raw and broiled oysters, lump crabmeat served in a seashell, and jumbo shrimp. Desert was a $9 poached pear in red wine sauce with an enormous lace cookie -- a personalized message delicately written in chocolate sauce on the plate's large white rim. After dinner, one of the single most fabulous drinks: served in wine glasses heated at the table, Kenyan Gold Liquor, topped by Kenyan coffee, and a dollop of fresh cream; for $7, it's pure yum. The service was friendly and impeccable.

The Tamarind is open for lunch and dinner Monday through Saturday. Reservations are essential. Tel: 254-20-251811/220473.

P.S. Kenyans are some of the most warm and darling people I have ever met. This is a special, special place.