One of my biggest anxieties coming into Kenya was yet I hadn't yet obtained a Permit to Conduct research from the government. The biggest problem was that I had been hearing vastly divergent information from different sources. Some researchers I talked to said that I didn't need to bother getting one at all. At the same time, the Government's permit application stated very clearly that an application needed to be submitted by mail two months before research was supposed to begin, and that I would only be able to obtain a visa and enter the country before the permit was granted. As I didn't really have time to submit the application on their timeline (which would have required submitting the application back in October, well before I even knew for certain whether or not I'd be coming back), I decided to gamble and just try to get the permit once I arrived.

A few days ago, I headed down to the Ministry of Science, Education, and Technology with 5 copies of the filled out application sheet, my CV, letters from my advisors at Yale and ILRI, sample interview sheets, my 10 page project description and $300 cash (or more precisely 21,000 Kenyan Shillings). I checked in at the reception desk of the Ministry of Health building, which like many of the government buildings here has this aesthetic that I can describe only "early 70s post-colonial professional"; lots of browns and yellows, flourescent lighting, and mottled floor tiles. I was directed to a room on the 10th floor. From there, I was sent to another office down the hall, and from there to another office on the 9th floor. On arriving at room 923, I found a man seated at a desk; I introduced myself and presented my massive stack of application materials. He said that he had heard that I would be coming because someone from ILRI had called ahead, and said that it looked like everything was in order; the application would be processed immediately and the permit could be picked up the next day. He then asked for the application fee, which he put DIRECTLY INTO HIS POCKET. Seeing me get noticably tense, he said that the cashier's office was closed for the day (it was about 4 PM) and that he would be able to get me a receipt the next day when I came to pick up my permit. At this point I started to freak out again, but was too shell shocked to put up much of a fight; I did get the man to write down his name, office nubmer and cell phone number on a piece of paper. The rest of the night I fretted a bit about whether I was experiencing a bit of that famous "Kenyan Corruption" in action. The next morning around 11 I called the number that he gave me, and the person who answered said "Are you sure you came in yesterday?", which I assured him I did. Not wanting to wait any longer, I caught a bus downtown and headed back into the Education building, expecting the worst.

Fortunately (and as the picture above indicates) this story ends in pure anti-climax. I went into the office, the guy was there, and after a 10 minute wait, he came back with both my permit and receipt. I was stunned and sort of waiting for the catch but there was none; I easily survived my encounter with the much villified Kenyan bureaucracy and was finally ready to start my research.