That was the key phrase of the night as the author found himself at a posh poolside bar on the rooftop of an otherwise ordinary-looking hotel inside a walled compound of an obscure side street. It was the last few minutes of 2015, and this neighborhood, like any other in Nairobi after nightfall, remained dark, quiet, and devoid of pedestrians. But as soon as the heavy metal gates of the high-security walled compounds are flung open, a whole new world opens up. Smartly dressed young locals and expats (but vast majority being locals) headed up to where the DJ was keeping the music thumping.
And at the rooftop, people where unequivocal about their determination to say goodbye to the year with sheer joy. That unique African culture of enjoying the moment of simple fun really shone on the "dance floor." Every little piece of open standing space, whether it be behind chairs lining dinner tables, little passage between the pool and DJ tables, and even middle of leather sofas, people had no qualms about putting on some moves, even though the crowd remained largely sober in behavior. The grinding and hugging of opposite genders were not alcohol-induced, but just happiness-led.
The contrast with the outside was immense. Just outside the compound's high walls are quiet neighborhoods where dimly led residences pass this night like any other. No city-wide celebrations are planned, so there are no shows or fireworks to draw crowds onto the streets. But inside, Nairobi's moneyed class, its white-collar professionals, young business owners, and chic-looking members of the probably not-so-large entertainment circles rub shoulders, many seem to be already very well-acquainted with others in a relatively small group numbering no more than a couple of hundred.
When the author remarked on the demographics of the party-goers, the titled key phrase was the one uttered by a young Indian-Kenyan factory owner. His sentiment is clear. In this fair city, there is no "normal" people. If you can afford to be there and celebrate New Year's in style, you "already made it," so to speak. Otherwise, life on New Year's Eve would be just like any other...because on the streets, money still need to be found for the next meal, whether the date is Jan 1st, or any other. For them, splurging cash over a human-constructed holiday may sound ludicrous to begin with.
And splurging cash did the party-goers, on food and alcohol. Examining the menu, the prices are at developed country levels, more than what the author was even used to in high end places in Southeast Asia. In a country where the per capita income is less than 3000 USD per year, it is hard to justify such prices would be reasonable at any extent. But the bar owners certainly have no intention of catering to the mass market, and certain no intention to let go of any opportunity to milk the limited high-end market for every last shilling that they are willing to throwing away in posh lounge.
Witnessing expenditures over the night on some tables, the author is more or less convinced that the bar owner has the right idea in mind, at least on this particular day. Bottles of imported high-end alcohol costing more than 70 USD were spotted in dozens of tables, and mixed drinks averaging 10 USD each were ubiquitous. The same Indian-Kenyan said bye to a few friends, who did not forget to hand him a half-drunken bottle of Captain Morgan with 90 USD worth of cash to "clear the bills." Evidently, if one can step into the bar, one's wallet must be able to easily afford the pricing.
Of course, the "high-end" mentality of the people present are not simply reflected on the size of their personal budgets. When the author spoke about living conditions in rural Tanzania to a few people, he was quickly met with condescension and derision, not for him, but for the kind of lifestyle that they cannot imagine themselves going through. Simply stated, they assured that they cannot last two days in such places, nor do they have the intention of ever being there for more than two days. They see rural backwaters as a different world, and they do not seem to be bothered by such a harsh reality.
Hopefully, one day, the "middle" will arrive in force. Maybe they will come in the form of new-joiners of the urban formal economy that finally walked out of farms or massive slums. Or maybe a new group of business tycoons with previously unseen wealth will emerge, relegating today's "high-end" to a more mundane definition of "middle class." And when the "middle" arrives, perhaps a new era of both economic and cultural equality will raise its head, bringing an end to an era where the poor are made fun of and posh lounges are exclusive habitats of a few who "made it."
And at the rooftop, people where unequivocal about their determination to say goodbye to the year with sheer joy. That unique African culture of enjoying the moment of simple fun really shone on the "dance floor." Every little piece of open standing space, whether it be behind chairs lining dinner tables, little passage between the pool and DJ tables, and even middle of leather sofas, people had no qualms about putting on some moves, even though the crowd remained largely sober in behavior. The grinding and hugging of opposite genders were not alcohol-induced, but just happiness-led.
The contrast with the outside was immense. Just outside the compound's high walls are quiet neighborhoods where dimly led residences pass this night like any other. No city-wide celebrations are planned, so there are no shows or fireworks to draw crowds onto the streets. But inside, Nairobi's moneyed class, its white-collar professionals, young business owners, and chic-looking members of the probably not-so-large entertainment circles rub shoulders, many seem to be already very well-acquainted with others in a relatively small group numbering no more than a couple of hundred.
When the author remarked on the demographics of the party-goers, the titled key phrase was the one uttered by a young Indian-Kenyan factory owner. His sentiment is clear. In this fair city, there is no "normal" people. If you can afford to be there and celebrate New Year's in style, you "already made it," so to speak. Otherwise, life on New Year's Eve would be just like any other...because on the streets, money still need to be found for the next meal, whether the date is Jan 1st, or any other. For them, splurging cash over a human-constructed holiday may sound ludicrous to begin with.
And splurging cash did the party-goers, on food and alcohol. Examining the menu, the prices are at developed country levels, more than what the author was even used to in high end places in Southeast Asia. In a country where the per capita income is less than 3000 USD per year, it is hard to justify such prices would be reasonable at any extent. But the bar owners certainly have no intention of catering to the mass market, and certain no intention to let go of any opportunity to milk the limited high-end market for every last shilling that they are willing to throwing away in posh lounge.
Witnessing expenditures over the night on some tables, the author is more or less convinced that the bar owner has the right idea in mind, at least on this particular day. Bottles of imported high-end alcohol costing more than 70 USD were spotted in dozens of tables, and mixed drinks averaging 10 USD each were ubiquitous. The same Indian-Kenyan said bye to a few friends, who did not forget to hand him a half-drunken bottle of Captain Morgan with 90 USD worth of cash to "clear the bills." Evidently, if one can step into the bar, one's wallet must be able to easily afford the pricing.
Of course, the "high-end" mentality of the people present are not simply reflected on the size of their personal budgets. When the author spoke about living conditions in rural Tanzania to a few people, he was quickly met with condescension and derision, not for him, but for the kind of lifestyle that they cannot imagine themselves going through. Simply stated, they assured that they cannot last two days in such places, nor do they have the intention of ever being there for more than two days. They see rural backwaters as a different world, and they do not seem to be bothered by such a harsh reality.
Hopefully, one day, the "middle" will arrive in force. Maybe they will come in the form of new-joiners of the urban formal economy that finally walked out of farms or massive slums. Or maybe a new group of business tycoons with previously unseen wealth will emerge, relegating today's "high-end" to a more mundane definition of "middle class." And when the "middle" arrives, perhaps a new era of both economic and cultural equality will raise its head, bringing an end to an era where the poor are made fun of and posh lounges are exclusive habitats of a few who "made it."
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