Seats Available

If you’ve been following the health news, you’ll be well aware that one of the latest threats to public health is, sitting. Yes, this seemingly innocuous pastime is actually shaving years off our lives, according to a study published a few years back in the Annals of Internal Medicine Reviews (20 January 2015).

Sitting, it seems, causes all kinds of physiological havoc, due of its association with being sedentary. As one fitness site describe it:

“When you stop moving for extended periods of time, it's like telling your body it's time to shut down and PREPARE FOR DEATH.”

The list of problems associated with taking a load off one’s feet is impressive. It starts with a slow down of metabolism. Blood flow slackens and muscles burn less fat, which can then wander around and CLOG YOUR HEART. The pancreas produces more insulin, increasing the risk of diabetes and maybe cell growth, which combined with a lower production of antioxidants, may increase CANCER risk. And if that wasn’t enough, poor blood circulation in the legs can cause varicose veins, lack of activity lowers bone mass, and being sedentary causes the production of mood enhancing hormones to go down. Casual sitting is bad for the back, neck, and even brain function  – potentially raising the risk of DEMENTIA.

All in all, they tell us, sitting more than three hours a day may be costing us seven years of quality life.

And don’t assume that throwing in an hour of exercise each day can compensate for the nefarious effects of plopping down our backsides for hours at a time. Nope. It. Doesn’t. 

The situation is not entirely hopeless, according to the experts. But countering the effects of excessive sitting does require some effort.

One solution is to sit on something wobbly, like an exercise ball. I did this for years. I don’t know if it was healthier than a chair, but it was fun. Another recommendation is to get up and move around a lot. Every hour. Standing desks are effective alternatives, as are treadmill desks. Fidgeting is good, and pacing. So, too, are stretching exercises. The yoga poses of cat and cow are recommended, though awkward if you work in a cubicle.

All of this runs the risk of giving chairs a bad name. And that’s a shame, because the problem with sitting isn’t the chairs. The fact is, people have been using chairs of one type or another for 5,000 years or more. They show up in Egyptian tombs, on Greek vases, and among Pre-Colombian artifacts. And for most of that time, they have not been considered a health hazard.

Instead, chairs have long been appreciated as items that combine both form and function. Architect Witold Rybczynski recently published a book on the history of chairs, called Now I Sit Me Down (Farrar, Straus, & Giroux, 2016), which highlights the beauty and utility of chairs across the ages, and around the world. He theorizes that the earliest chairs were probably folding ones used by traveling nomads in China, and considers the social implications and contrasts associated with who sits, or gets to sit, on seats – as well as cultures that forgo chairs altogether.

Though I haven’t undertaken a formal study of chairs around the world, they do tend to catch my eye when I travel. Especially empty ones. I find there’s something very touching and inviting about them. So, I often take photos of chairs and benches, and have built up quite a collection. Some of them are altered for artistic effect. Here are a few examples:

On a sidewalk in the San Isidro neighborhood of Lima, Peru, this child-sized stool was used by an older woman who would spend parts of her day watching people go by.

I loved the way this bench blended into the winter environment near the Matterhorn in Cervinia, Italy.

On the Kenyan island of Lamu, workers make a distinctive style of furniture that reflects the Indian and Arabic influences of their Swahili culture.

These low sitting chairs were offering a place of rest to visitors in a quiet corner of New Delhi's Red Fort.

When I was very young, you had to pay a fee to sit in the chairs of Paris' public parks, though the stone benches were free. Now you can enjoy the chairs, too, without spending a cent.

How to resist the invitation of a French bistro chair on a sunny terrace in Montmartre?

I have met pastoralists from multiple African tribes and countries. Young men from these communities typically carve their own stools, which they carry with them everywhere and may take different forms - in some cases also doubling as a pillow.

The plush seat of a horse-drawn cart in Cordoba, Spain was just waiting for flat-footed tourists.

This stack of chairs, including a child's high chair, were part of the purposely mismatched furnishings of a cafe in Lima's hip Barranco neighborhood.

Blue and white lounge chairs in Lugano, Switzerland barely marked the distinction between the town's alpine lake and a hotel swimming pool on a sunny summer afternoon.

Molded stackable plastic chairs have become ubiquitous around the world, but here were given a special feline flavor during an art exhibit in Lima's Parque Kennedy (home to many stray cats).

Although they look French, these classic outdoor chairs and tables were set up in a small park in New York City, including miniature versions for kids.

A park bench in Paris' Jardin des Plantes blended into the patterns of light and shadow on a sunny morning.

This empty bench was sitting in a once thriving but now abandoned train station along the western railway line of Kenya that, until recently, ran from Nairobi to Lake Victoria.

These chairs seemed to be abandoned and up for grabs on a quiet square in Amsterdam.

Is Cauliflower the New Brussels Sprout?

Classic white cauliflower from Nairobi

Now that Brussels sprouts are the new fab food, gracing fancy menus in New York, Paris, and even Nairobi, are cauliflowers next?

According to our housekeeper, an astute woman and farmer, cauliflower is a very lucrative crop here in Kenya – more so than spinach or broccoli. “Everybody grows spinach,” she says with a smile. She grows cauliflower and can attest to the fact that demand is high, not only from restaurant suppliers in Nairobi but also those who come from the coastal city of Mombasa.

Traditional Kenyan food tends to be bland and built around a few key staples. They mostly include maize meal or beans, greens, and for those who can afford it, grilled meat (generally goat). For flavor, there might be a few tomatoes or onions.

But coastal Kenyan food is a whole different story. The coast is populated by traders and seafarers, whose Swahili culture and cuisine reflect a fusion of influences from India, Arabia, and the Horn of Africa. The food is delicate, spicy, and delicious. The fish and seafood typically come directly from the crystal blue waters of the Indian Ocean. But most of the grain and produce are brought down from the cooler, dryer, and higher climates of central Kenya, including the Nairobi area. 

Indian food is popular in Nairobi as well as the coast, due to the presence of a highly influential population of Kenyans of South Asian heritage. Cauliflower holds its own in this cuisine, found in everything from curries and chutneys to dishes like aloo gobi and gobi fry.

The name cauliflower means cabbage flower, and like its more popular cousin the Brussels sprout, it is a member of the cabbage family Brassicaceae. Other related vegetables include cabbage, of course, but also bok choy, broccoli, kale, and collard greens. Interestingly, artichokes don’t make this list, as they are actually a kind of thistle and related to things like sunflowers and chrysanthemums.

Mark Twain qualified cauliflower as “nothing but cabbage with a college education." But the fact is that, like its cabbage family cousins, cauliflower is something of a super food.

Though very low in calories (<30/cup), cauliflower is highly nutritious. One cup provides a whopping 73% of the daily-recommended doses of vitamin C, along with a respectable list of other nutrients like vitamins B and K, folate, fiber, omega-3, manganese, potassium, and protein. It is said to be high in antioxidants and anti-inflammatory compounds, and credited with helping to prevent heart disease and cancer, while boosting bone health, digestion, and eye health.

There are hundreds of varieties of cauliflower, and it comes in a rainbow of colors. The most familiar is the snowy white version, but there are also orange, green, and purple varieties. Perhaps the most stunning is the green Romanesco variety. It features a shape made up of fractal spiral curds and looks like something that may have been grown under the ocean, or in a Dr. Seuss book.

Green Romanesco variety straight out of Dr. Seuss

Interestingly, the different varieties all taste the same, though their nutritional values vary a bit. The orange ones have more vitamin A, and the purple ones contain anthocyanins (also found in blueberries, grapes, and eggplant, among others), which may offer further anti-cancer and anti-inflammatory benefits.

Purple cauliflower

Cauliflower is a very versatile food. It can be eaten raw, roasted, stir-fried, mashed, microwaved, steamed, sautéed, pickled, puréed, shredded, and in everything from soups or salads to curries, casseroles, and more. For dieters, it is a good alternative to starches. An easy web search brings up all sorts of recipes for cauliflower-based carb substitutes, such as cauliflower rice, cauliflower muffins, cauliflower bagel, cauliflower pizza, cauliflower breadsticks, even cauliflower tater tots. The wide variety of recipes and articles about cauliflower also suggests that it is quietly becoming a foodie favorite.

So, while I’m not taking bets, I am rooting for the humble “cabbage flower.” I’m not sure I’ll be making cauliflower muffins any day soon, but I will be doing my part to support the local demand.

Walking for Change

Women's March on Nairobi, 21 January 2017

On January 21, 2017, Nairobi joined with groups, towns, and cities all over the world to host a Women’s March. The development was very organic, launched by a few devoted Kenyan and expat organizers, with plans spread largely through social media and word of mouth. The crowd included over 700 people, more than twice the expected size, and included men, women, and children of many nationalities. As with the marches all over the world, there were lots of causes and clever slogans. The atmosphere was warm, and the weather beautiful. The event lasted all day, with food, music, and presentations following the march itself.

The venue for the Women’s March on Nairobi was particularly appropriate. It took place in Nairobi’s Karura Forest, a space that is both beautiful and highly symbolic when it comes to women’s rights and protests. The forest lies entirely within the city limits of Nairobi. Bordered on one side by the massive United Nations (UN) campus as well as the tony neighborhoods of Gigiri, Muthaiga, and Runda, Karura covers some of the city’s most coveted real estate. As a result, the forest, which was gazetted as a reserve in 1932, has been repeatedly threatened by greedy developers – all too eager to cash in on its prized location.

In the late 1990s, there were several movements to protect Karura from encroachment by private developers, who started clearing parts of the woods on the forest’s northern side. Violent protests erupted in 1998, following shady land allocation arrangements between developers and the government. The development was halted, but in 1999 further violence broke out when a group of women led by Wangari Maathai staged a demonstration by planting trees near the forest’s northwest edge. Hired thugs attacked the women, sending several of them to the hospital, including Maathai. The head of the UN Environmental Programme (UNEP) threatened to move the organization’s headquarters out of Nairobi if the forest was destroyed, and UN Secretary General Kofi Annan also added his condemnation of the attacks.

A 2005 Kenya Forests Act put into place stronger protections that have helped preserve Karura. But as recently as 2016, new movements have been afoot by developers to turn the same portion of Karura defended by Maathai and her supporters into a luxury hotel. So far, they seem to have been quelled.

Wangari Maathai is revered as a great national heroine in Kenya. She died of cancer in 2011, but remains a huge role model and source of inspiration for Kenyan women. Maathai was the first East African woman to obtain a PhD, earning a doctorate in veterinary sciences from the University of Nairobi. She was the country’s first female associate professor and department chair, and chaired the National Council of Women in Kenya. Maathai’s tree-planting organization, called the Green Belt Movement, focused primarily on poor, rural women, offering them a source of skills and income in exchange for planting trees and restoring depleted natural resources.

Maathai was a strong advocate for community empowerment and openly defied government-backed corruption and abuse, for which she was jailed, beaten, publicly derided, and fired from her university position. In 2004, Wangari Maathai was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.

Wangari Maathai's image is iconic in Kenya.

The young Kenyans I’ve asked speak enthusiastically about Maathai’s work and lessons, but older ones worry that her legacy may not outlast the pressures of urbanization and development.  Already, high-end housing is going up in green zones of Nairobi that Maathai tried to protect, and the struggle to save Nairobi National Park from encroachment is literally losing ground.

Maathai’s fight for women’s rights remains a challenge, too, as Kenya continues to be a country very much governed by traditional gender norms in culture and politics. Female genital mutilation (FGM), though technically illegal, remains widespread. Abortion is illegal unless there is a need for emergency treatment, or the life or health of the mother is in danger. As a result, women resort to unsafe abortions, which are the leading cause of maternal mortality in Kenya.

Under Kenya’s new constitution women are technically allowed to inherit property, but in practice they are still passed over in favor of male heirs. A 2014 Marriage Law legalized polygamy – for men. The bill initially stipulated that the first wife could override the husband’s choice of additional wives, but male Members of Parliament deleted that clause. Female MPs stormed out of the late-night voting session in protest. But female supporters of the law saw it as a way to formalize common practice, and more importantly, to offer protection to successive wives, who had not previously been recognized as officially married.

The Women’s March on Nairobi was primarily focused on fighting sexism and inequality, while calling for more inclusive and progressive governance. Slogans addressed issues such as ending FGM and the trafficking of women and children, the need for reproductive rights, addressing police and political corruption, women’s land and inheritance rights, and the implementation of the gender-based two-thirds rule in Kenya’s parliament. Signs called for protecting the rights of people with HIV, the LGBTQ community, people with disabilities, sex workers, refugees, and other marginalized groups. There were signs against Trump, and signs supporting healthy futures for our planet and people.

The Women’s March on Nairobi has succeeded so far in launching a flurry of follow-up activities, primarily targeting executive orders and appointments in the US. Whether it helps to further the causes of women’s rights in Kenya remains to be seen. But clearly, the fight to protect public rights and the environment will need to continue here in Kenya, as in the rest of the world.

Meanwhile, a study published the journal Environmental Science and Technology back in 2013 confirmed that living in urban areas with green spaces provides long-term positive impacts on people’s mental wellbeing.  Thus, the protection of places like Karura Forest is crucial not only for maintaining the quality of our air, water, and land but also for preserving our sanity. In these political times, that is going to be more critical than ever.

The Gimme Economy

Nearly every day when I walk my dog in our neighborhood of Nairobi, someone will say to me, “Gimme that dog!” 

Some people are very insistent: “Come on, just give it to me. Gimme your dog.” And while most are walking, others will actually lean out of their cars to say, “Gimme that dog.”

Needless to say, I’m very fond of our dog, and he’s not up for grabs.

Moreover, it’s not like there’s a shortage of dogs here in Kenya. There are plenty of strays, especially in the slums. Known locally as the Dagoretti Ditch Dog (named for one of the eight administrative divisions of Nairobi), Kenyan street dogs tend to be sleek, short-haired, and smart. They scrape out a living feeding on the ubiquitous piles of garbage that litter city streets and neighborhoods, and they do their best to stay out of the way of kicking humans and motorized vehicles. The lucky ones get taken to the Kenya SPCA, where they are given proper care and attention – and hopefully a new home.

Typical Dagoretti Ditch dogs up for adoption at the KSPCA

Meanwhile, my dog is a mutt. He’s of average intelligence, neutered, and probably about 13 years old. We adopted him as an adult from a shelter years ago. While very sweet, charming to look at, and immensely likeable – even to people who don’t particularly like dogs – he’s no best in show. Nor is he much of a guard dog – unless you happen to be a cat.

But it doesn’t matter. Because when people stop to ask for my dog, it’s not really about the dog. It’s about something I call the gimme economy.

The dictionary definition of “the gimmes” is a “reliance on or a demand for the generosity of others, especially as one's due.” It’s very common here in Kenya, and according to my Kenyan friends, is on the rise.

Several factors seem to be involved.

First, there’s the enormous gap between the lifestyle of people like me and that of the overwhelming majority of Kenyans. According to the UN Human Development Report, more than 43% of Kenyans live on less than $1.25/day. Minimum wage in Nairobi for unskilled labor is $100-$120/month, and if you are a guard, that salary requires working 12-hour shifts, 6 days a week.

Most poor people in Nairobi live in one of the city’s numerous and vast slums, typically within labyrinthine neighborhoods of one-room shanties composed of dirt floors and corrugated metal walls and roofs. Because the government considers slums to be “informal” communities, they do not provide them with any municipal services such as clean water, sewage, streetlights, paved roads, schools, or health care. What services do exist are provided by churches, NGOs, small enterprises, and community members themselves. The results are dirty but bustling neighborhoods, filled with crime and disease, but also a vibrant population that reflects the effects of both despair and determination.
 
Even people with formal sector jobs often have difficulty affording much more than a slightly better place in the slums or lower income areas. Most (65%) of them earn just $200-$400 per month. That’s sufficient to be considered middle class, but not enough to access decent living conditions, which are notoriously unaffordable.

Our modern house is relatively modest by expat standards, but it is cheery and bright and secure. We have power and plenty of indoor plumbing, not to mention a fridge, range, small kitchen appliances, and a machine for washing our clothes (no dryer or dishwasher, which are rare extravagances, indeed).

The vast income and lifestyle disparities between the poor and people like us breed a Robin-Hood-like mentality, based on the concept that it’s okay to take from the rich (as we appear to be in a relative way) to give to the poor. In fact, it's expected - as one's due. 

This viewpoint has been reinforced through generations of international and humanitarian aid – long doled out in the form of handouts. While understandable during times of crisis, such as the looming threat of widespread malnutrition this year due to extended droughts, the long-term dependence on outside assistance has led to warped expectations about one’s due.  Both the humanitarian and development communities are trying to address the issue of learned dependence by replacing it with approaches that require community and individual inputs and participation in exchange for aid and investments. But it’s a tough mentality to change.
 
And it’s one that reverberates world wide, especially in the context of the gift economy of social media. Years ago (September 2002) the Wired ran a special report story about people using webcam culture to solicit gifts from strangers, touching on a concept they called the “please gimme economy” (the only other reference I’ve found to a gimme economy culture). 

“Why fold jeans at the Gap when you can get a new DVD player by making puppy-dog eyes into your webcam?” the story asked. It went on to say that: 

“In exchange for posting flirty photos, journal entries, and casual chat, these young experts in urges and acquisitions are hauling in pretty cool gear. Their sites are linked to mainstream registries at Amazon.com and elsewhere. The gift strategy seems to work, though police worry the sites can be a prowling ground for pedophiles.”

More recently, we’ve seen the advent of crowd-funding appeals to help people do everything from paying medical bills or start up business costs to going on holiday, saving circus lions, or sewing teddy bears for child cancer patients. But somehow, there’s a difference between being asked to give to a cause and the expectations of the gimme mentality.

So, while I do give generously to all kinds of causes and people here in Kenya, particularly those connected to promoting new livelihood choices for the poor, I’m not buying into the gimme economy.

And I’m not giving anyone my dog.

My dog may be a mutt, but he's not up for grabs.