Day 8: Asante Kukutana Na Wewe

Habari ja Asabuhi!

I happened to wake up early enough to catch AC360 again. I was hoping to hear more of what was happening in the states but the whole show was about the oil spill. The cable cut in and out but it seemed like the oil had now made landfall and no surprise that BP was being dumb.

I fell back asleep and for the first time awoke to my alarm rather then wildlife like before. I got ready and headed for breakfast at my usual table by the fire. Most of the staff came by and asked me what my plans for the day were. I finished breakfast and headed to my room to finish getting ready. I folded and put away my clothes that were finally dry and debated starting my next load, I decided to let it wait.

I transferred the new Kiswahili phrases I had learned onto flash cards in order to learn more efficiently. After a while of practice I headed out to the lobby to wait for Patrick. Everyone greeted me as they passed by, even some of the other guests were now curious about my trip in Kenya and wanted to personally welcome me to the country. Everyone would say that I was a quick Kiswahili learner and I'd be fluent in a month if I could stay.

I sat and listened to the conversations other people were having in Kiswahili, it helps your ear get accustomed to picking out different sounds. The language is so beautiful and the conversations are never one sided. Where we occasionally say "hmm-mmm" in a conversation Kenyan's say "eii" but far more frequently. I recalled when all the porters arrived and all you could hear was a bunch of "eiii, eiii, eiii's" like thirteen sleepy Fonzi's had just walked into a room.

Patrick arrived Kenyan style, late. He apologized but I told him, "Hakuna Matata!" He said he wanted me to experience the public transportation just like most Kenyans use so we walked out to the main road and waited for a matatu (public van rather then bus). The first stream of vehicles to pass all had little red ribbons on their antennae which Patrick told me was for a funeral procession. He then asked me about similar funeral practices in the states and I answered.

A van stopped and we climbed in. Patrick had taught me how to say, "pesa ngapi" beforehand so I could ask how much I owed. I paid and they said they would give me my balance (change) at our stop. When we got out he ran to a local vendor and made change for me.

We stopped by a cybercafe on our way to the office so that I could check my email. The cybercafe was four computers six inches apart from one another on a table with plastic patio chairs for seating. I sat down and realized that computer privacy was a foreign concept here as everyone could and wanted to see my screen. I showed Patrick some of my facebook pictures and he was surprised to see I had gotten married in a church. He said that not many Americans go to church. I thought about what a lovely impression that leaves.

We headed over to the office and I stamped books with the "donated by" stamp while Patrick worked. Visitors popped in and out to shake my hand, say jambo and ask how I was enjoying myself. Talking with the locals was one of my favorite things to do in Kenya.

Patrick and I then headed to lunch and I noticed he would walk a different route to the cafe each time. People would always shout some words to him and he'd reply casually in Kiswahili and keep on walking. Occasionally he would stop and whoever was talking with him would shake my hand. Everyone would laugh when I say, "jambo." If I noticed someone staring at me as we passed I would wave and shout out "jambo!" They were thrilled to wave back and reply either "sijambo" or "jambo sana." It still surprises me how nice everyone in Kenya is.
I had been wanting french fries all day so that's what we had for lunch, french fries and a sausage which costed 50ksh (maybe $0.70). After lunch we walked around town some more. Patrick would point out things here or there. We talked about all the litter and how there was no garbage men in Kenya. Every corner turned someone would come over to say hello, today more so then yesterday. I think maybe it's because my blonde hair was down and a lot more noticeable.

We stopped by the post office and the timber lot before meeting up with Mishoki, a kiboko wilderness driver who would be around for the next two days. We climbed into the van and headed over to the Kambi primary school to check on the "fundies" (contractors). The children were out of the classroom this time and everyone was waving and shouting "jambo" or "how are you?" Since I wasn't officially supposed to be there yet I just waved and kept with Patrick.

As we climbed back into the van I noticed something on the floor by my seat. I picked it up and saw that it was a kindle. I passed it up front but Patrick and Mishoki didn't know what it was. Njoroge, who had met up with us by now, seemed to know what it was and tried to help me explain. I told them I could turn it on and look for a name and they seemed really surprised I knew how to work it. They had had Korean tourists in the van prior so they assumed it was left by them. I found the name Irene on the kindles home page. While Mishoki called to let Irene know we had her kindle Patrick continued to ask me questions about it. Moments later we took off and the school children chased our van down the road waving to me as if I were a celebrity.

After they dropped me off at Bantu I was feeling really tired from the day so I decided to go to the lounge for coffee while I journaled. Steven looked at my pictures and asked me more about the states. Evling also stopped by to ask me how my day was and how people reacted to my Kiswahili skills. I chatted the time away until dinner was ready and then afterwards took my usual spot in the lounge again. I wasn't writing in my journal for long before I noticed someone come and stand next to me. A deep voice said, "jambo." I looked up to see one of the guys that had been there the night before but I hadn't spoken to yet.

"Jambo," I replied. His names was Matthew and he asked me where I was from and how I was enjoying my stay so far. Like everyone else he was excited to teach me more Kiswahili and ask questions about the states. First it was the usual subjects, poverty in the states, Obama and how much things cost. He either seemed to know more then others or had more courage because he also asked me about car loans, racism and what is considered an adult age. He was a staff member at Bantu and was pulled away.

"Saa ngapi?" I asked Steven for the time and he replied in Kiswahili. Now that I was beginning to know my numbers I realized that it didn't match up to what the clock said. I asked why, even though I kind of already knew and Steven immediately took the clock off the wall to explain Kiswahili time to me. In Kenya, 7:00am is 1:00, 8 is 2, 9 is 3 and so forth. It goes by the sun, Kenya being on the equator the sun rises and sets at approximately the same time everyday. I understood but it was fun watching him try to explain and then more people started joining in. Matthew explained that that was how they used to tell time until the white man came and told them they were wrong. I said, "that sounds about right" and they all laughed. Steven and Faith (another staff who had joined in) told Matthew to be careful what he said. I said "sawa sawa, hakuna matata." As long as they weren't mad at me for it I was fine, I don't have some twisted perception of the white mans history.

We continued talking for a while, two more staff members that did not speak English as well came and looked through my flashcards quizzing me on phrases I knew. They then taught me "poa" (cool) and "gota" which you say when you bump fists. I, in return, taught them to "blow it up" and Josey's "park it". I showed them Josey's picture so when she got back from the mountain they could "park it" with her.
All the staff was gathering and preparing to practice a dance for a traditional dance competition the next day. They told me that I must stay and watch! I took a seat on the couch where Evling and another guy joined me. The singing and dancing started. They were dressed in some traditional wear as well as t-shirts and skirts that had the "vote yes" logo on it in response to Kenya's current constitutional debate.

The singing was soft and beautiful, and being a practice it had the occasional burst of laughter as well. Then the men joined the dance dressed as warriors. They ran around with their spears and shields and pretended to stab me and a few others. Evling told me the dance represented men fight for a wife and was done in three segments. I watched in awe for quite some time until all of the sudden Matthew pulled me off the couch and marched me to the middle of the room. He wrapped a shawl around me, linked my arm with his and marched me outside. Years ago this maybe would have made me his wife, thank goodness I had showed him pictures of my husband previously. =)

A few minutes later I bid everyone "nlala salama" and was escorted to my room by the receptionist to ensure my safety at the late hour. It took me a while to fall asleep even though it was much past midnight. Too much excitement from the day and for the next day because I knew I was going to another coffee farm in the morning!