java house

Nairobi Java House is delicious collective of the most eclectic mixture of faces and ethnicities and hair styles. I find myself making up stories for all of the mixed families I see. Why are these people in Nairobi? Was that sweet child an orphan once upon a time? Are those other muzungus Americans? (a fun game to play... if you can't hear them, you can usually tell by the shoes, or sometimes a painful, mullet-like haircut)

Java also has killer fresh mango juice, iced coffee, "chips," and guac tomato cheese sandwiches... mmmm. (which I ravenously finished every. last. bite of.)


Besides the fact that it is a magnet for those silly westerners that like to sit in swanky coffee houses and drive their safari-chic land rover back to their african villas (presumptious? yes), Java is a welcome comfort here. However, it still makes me feel a little weird to end some if my days there... I walk through slums all day and then return to comfortable western culture when I can buy a $3 latte if I want. Is it an overindulgence, or a natural tool in assimilating to life here- a simple reminder of home?

I'm going to go with the "everything in moderation" rule here. Which is why Wade and I decided to make homemade guac and save a little cash. And oh man, what a success. Definitely a welcome little fiesta in our ugali world.

Banana chips as a stand in for tortilla chips. We make it work.