Day 5: Yes, I Sunday nap in Africa…

 

I met Aquinas last night. Aquinas is the pastor of the Church I went to today. I think I’m going to save this story for later. It is too complicated.

I spent today at rest. I realized that I’ve been doing about 470% more social activity than I am comfortable with and that I needed a few hours to chill. I ate a protein bar for lunch and came back to my room after Church to nap and read. I’m sawing my way through “Sound and the Fury.” I’m close, but I have struggled much of the way. For those who have read it, I’m on Dilsey’s section and so glad to be away from that jerk-off Jason. I am thinking about rereading the first part now that I have some idea of what in the world is going on.

Observation: The last two mission’s classes I’ve taken required spending a collection of hours with non-western ethnic groups. I think those projects may have been what made this week doable. I’ve noticed that I am able to connect easily with the people I’m meeting, but I don’t have a good category for what to do with the emotions that the connection stirs. I thought I had it figured out when I was falling asleep at nap today, but that was sleep induced delirium.

Basic Report:
I’m eating. Everything has bones or some other abnormality, but I’m not visibly losing weight any more. I still take tylenol PM before I fall asleep to stay asleep all night. (If anyone knows of the active ingredient that makes you sleepy in tylenol PM, please comment it. I’m almost out and they have never heard of it here.)

The weather has been perfect. Today was the first day I sweated. 50-70 degrees. The Kenyans are freezing. It is such a hoot to see them wearing Northeast looking puffy jackets and complain of the chill. I tell them that this weather is perfect. You don’t sweat or shiver. It makes being outside almost nice. I hear that Mombassa is a tropical, hot and humid place. I have ten days there. I don’t think it will be as comfortable AND they have sand.

Irony:
I met two American graduates from James Madison University in Virginia. They got a small grant to build their “stairmaster” water pump project for a village in Western Kenya. They were late to dinner tonight. Mama Bear (housekeeper) said it best, “Boys and a ball. You know?” Coincidentally, there is a European Soccer tournament that has everyone excited tonight. I am just as useless in African sports conversations as American ones.

Tomorrow I go back to Kibera to visit a different school. 

Day Three: Black Apple.

Okay…Today was TOTALLY different than yesterday. I can’t even begin to describe the night/day factor. I was up until 3:45 fighting jetlag and the memory of Kibera. It was an awful night of no resolution.

Today was a distraction/errands sort of day. I went to the Kenyan version of Wal-Mart-Mall.

The reason: My laptop battery died. 

Full health, 100%, then BOOM! Empty. (They say “your battery went flat” here) This will be bad here as electricity can be hard to come by. I lamented my crisis to George, “Yeah, like I’m going to find an Apple Store in Africa.” 

“Actually there are two across town.” He laughed.

I took a taxi to this modern mall, that is cooler than many I’ve seen in America. Think Galleria level, but smaller and Euro/Indian/African. You won’t believe me, but the Cure’s “Close to Me” was playing on the sound system when I entered the mall. The only American-only stores I saw was the Converse Chucks store and the movie theater. I was tempted to watch a movie, but my plans went south when I found the apple corner. Not store. Corner.

They sold Apple gear, but no warranty work. I doubted they could help, but I hoped. When I approached the two guys about the battery replacement, they showed me the glass case with 9 items. I doubted, but one of the mystery apple items was my battery. YES! But the price: over double of the US. NO!!!

I couldn’t justify that much. It was the 1/3 the price of a new machine. So I complained and left. I browsed the mall which made me feel very normal. (I’m a consumerist whether I like it or not.) I ate pizza and drank a diet Coke. (Coca-Cola Light) Then I went back to browse the bookstore that the Apple corner was in. The one guy remaining at the corner called me over. 

It turns out that the dude who left has a battery like I need. He will only charge me half of the price, but I can’t do the transaction through the store. I said I was interested and after 2 hours of phone calls reminiscent of drug trafficking scenes from movies and a meeting location set in the coffee shop I met with “battery man” to buy my off the grid part. He gave me a cool story with it about an American with a broken machine, blah, blah, blah. I tested the gear it worked. I paid him under the table and we were gone. 

Three days in Africa and I’m into the black market. I’m so out of my league.

That is the only obscure story, but here’s what else “happened” today. D and I figured out a chat schedule. I was “shining” one lady said after our chat. I just got back from  dinner with 4 missionary families and their stories were too good to broadcast. I’m saving them for the private reserve. The chicken was on the bone. Everyone picked their bones clean. I left the knuckles and skin alone, but ate all of the meat. Be proud for me.

While I have a moment, let me tell you about Kenyans. You know how people say southerners are nice? Or so-and-so people are friendly? I might put money that people all over the world are RUDE compared to Kenyans. The warmth and smiles you receive from eye contact and conversation is like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

Hardest thing that happened today: My driver. I told him I went to Kibera yesterday. He told me he LIVED in Kibera and had for 10 years. Started a family there and now had a  wife and three daughters. This totally really broke me. He didn’t look like the people I saw yesterday. I may have passed his house. One of his girls could be in my photo album. I may have seen his wife and baby. I had to confront there in passenger seat the thing I/we do. We dehumanize the people. We try to make them “other” or scenery; somehow bound to the place. His name is Ignateous (Most Kenyans have a tribal name and a Christian name. Ignateous was the name of Pope from way back. His tribal name meant “morning,” because he was born in the morning). We had a wonderful conversation. He wasn’t dirty or smelly like that place was. Actually his shirt was better pressed than mine and I think his outfit was more stylish. He lives there because it is affordable. He told me how they share an open hole latrine with their neighbors. They buy water for 2 shillings a liter. They use 60 liters a day. (That’s 50 cents of water per day). I felt shameful buying a battery for a computer that probably cost more than he makes in a month.

I was thankful for a western diversion day. Kibera really messed me up. I’m still trying figure out God, me, and that place. (See I did it again: “that place,” not people). 

I have no good answers.

Day 1: Travel and the whole arriving thing…

I’m writing this from a twin bed under a mosquito net. It feels like those fake tents I made when I was kid out of blankets and sofa cushions. So yeah, I made it. It’s 10:00 Tuesday night Kenya (which is 2:00 Central). I spent the last 24 hours in airports, airplanes and taxis. 

The flights were great. The seat next to me was vacant on both flights. I slept through the wrong one and stayed awake on the sleeping one. I watched four movies ( “The Other Boleyn Girl, “Golden Compass,” “Atonement,” “Dan in Real Life”) plus 4 sitcoms and 2 cartoons. The inflight entertainment was more robust than my living room and I have to confess that I WANTED to watch Hanna Montana, but couldn’t justify it without the girls.  The food was bland, but pleasant and time consuming.

Things I learned in Amsterdam:

-Airport prices + unfavorable dollar vs. Euro + conversion plus commission = $20 coffee, donut and evian. 

-The “take-a-penny-leave-a-penny” is an American thing. At the airport barista, it is called the “tip jar.” No-touchy.

-Some local newscaster was on my plane. I big-timed him. 

 

After two hours in Kenya I know:

-Bug spray is a big deal.

-They have sprawl.

-They don’t convert “old” $100 bills.

-Being bad at math can lead to overtipping. (My taxi driver, Richard, REALLY likes me.)

-Mama Bear (not how you spell it) gave me the key to my room, it has orange tile floors, 70’s sheets and built in an unknown geometric shape. It has a shower, toilet paper and a power outlet.

Good times. Good night.

Plane leaves today at 3:00 pm for Amsterdam: 9+ hours.

Layover: 3 hours.

Fly south to Kenya: 8+ hours.

Supposedly, there will be a man waiting in Nairobi with my name on a card to drive me to the guest house.
Which sounds so cool.