Day One: Look for the red. You won’t believe it…Yes, actually, you will.

*If you are short on time skip down until you see the red word and read to the end*

I met my contact, George, over breakfast. I had toast with scrambled eggs on top of them. The eggs were white and small. I think they were powdered. It was a nice plain meal. The coffee was mediocre, but necessary. Turns out you only need to take one Tylenol PM for your first night in Africa. Two makes you feel like an unseen force is pushing a transparent pillow over your head, pinning you to the bed

George took me to get wireless access for the laptop from the seminary’s tech dept. Looks Tech departments all over the world hate to share their internets. They always look like you’ve asked them for the last cookie off the plate when everyone clearly knows that their are hundreds of cookies in the cupboard. It worked, but the range of the wireless doesn’t reach the guesthouse, so I’m in a blackout during the evening. 

While getting wireless, I met Peter. Peter is a mission’s student who will graduate in two weeks. He showed me around campus and hooked me up with a class to audit. He was crazy friendly. He said,  “You never know what God will show you when you meet someone.” Of course, now I feel all guilty not living up to expectations. I had tea at his apartment with his wife and children later. It was really nice. Thankfully, our missionary friends who lived in Nairobi gave me a crash course on African hospitality. They were spot on.

Here’s the only part of today you will remember or care about. You know World Vision? The sponsor a child for $30 a day folks? Today, I had lunch at their African/East African/Kenya/Nairobi head office. Yes Clayre, THE World Vision office for Africa. I didn’t even know they had an office here let alone the HOME OFFICE for Africa. But that isn’t the part you will remember; neither is this: I got the invitation by making friends with the catering company. So they invited me to WV. (this may sound like I’m “making things happen.” I’m not. I’m just saying “yes” whenever anyone asks me to do anything.)

THIS is the only part of this blog you will remember. You know how weird I am about food right? (If you don’t know here’s rules: I don’t eat anything on the bone OR anything that looks like it did when it was alive AND I hate fish/seafood)

LUNCH MENU: Tilapia. f i s h.

Not pecan encrusted, blackened, or filet…no. The whole fish, big as my hand, black and grey with spines, shriveled on a grill with scales, head on with burned out eye sockets. Because I was a “special guest” they even brought me specially made CHICKEN LEGS.
Freaking out? Yes, I was.

I sawed and clawed off a hunk of chicken wing and waited watching to see how you eat a fish. Some lady was working one across from me so I mimicked her technique. It went poorly. I made a mess and only cleared a few bites. I chewed. I hated it, but I chewed. Think “robot.” chew machine chew. chew. Then I looked down to scavenge another bite from the rancid carcass with the bones, scales, gaping gill and leathery skin. I gagged. It was little, but I did. The conversation at the table was going nicely. So I drank some juice.

“So why are you here in Africa?” some dude asked causing everyone turn to look at me.

I gagged again, not a little…oh no. Not a little.

“I need a bottle of water. Now.” I used a voice I reserved for this sort of crisis situation. I like to imagine that it is a forceful yet calm voice. Like an actor, Harrison Ford maybe. “I need a bottle of water. Now.“ 

I excused myself, went down the hall and hurked.

So there you have it. I’ve barfed at the World Vision Headquarters on my first full day in Africa. How many people can say that?
I think I’m special.

Epilogue:
I arrived back at the table encouraging the misbelief I had caught a fish bone in my throat and needed to flush it out. They all bought it. Yes, I’m that good. Even in Africa.