Home Sweet Home
The clinic where I live and work. My room is the yellow door in the middle behind the tree.
I live despairingly far away from civilization. I am 12 kilometers from the nearest town which houses a supermarket and since I will be kicked out of the Peace Corps if I ride a pikipiki (motorcycle) into town AND since it would take me almost 3 hours round trip to ride my bike to town, gets dark at 6:30pm, and I get off work at 4pm, do the math… I am pretty far away from some of the basic things I need to survive on (like wheat bread, oatmeal, sunflower oil, rice etc.). On Wednesdays and Sundays I have the fortune of walking 15 minutes to a local market for: tomato, kale, oranges, bananas, and potatoes. If I am lucky they have onions or eggs, maybe both if it’s not raining. Oh yeah, and it rains just about every afternoon. What I am getting at, is that it’s imperative to my nutritional status for me to stock up on some key non-perishable items that I, both, like to eat and know how to cook. It’s also imperative to my sanity that I get a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips every once in a while. I was getting low on food for consumption which lead me to make a version of “fried rice,” but all I had to put in it was garlic, tomato, eggs, and soy sauce. It really turned out to be a sort of salty Spanish rice with egg in it. I broke down and asked sister Tina to take me to Rongo or Kisii the next time she was driving there.
Today was that day. We drove the 30 minute drive to Kisii so I could do some shopping at the Nakumat and Tuskys (Kenya’s versions of walmart). Sister had told me she wanted to get her internet modem fixed, so I ran my errands around town going to the bank and stocking up on minutes for my phone while she did her computer stuff. We then went to the Tuskys right in town to do some grocery shopping. Sister said to me, and I quote, “oh I don’t need much. I really don’t need to do any shopping.” I assured her that I had a list and knew what I wanted and promised to be in-and-out. We agreed to meet in the front of the store when we were both finished. In a somewhat leisurely yet focused pace, I expertly managed my way through the store picking up each and every item I needed to fill my cupboards. I finished my shopping, paid for my items and walked to the front of the store to drink my yogurt. Yes, I had to drink my yogurt because it’s nice and runny here in Kenya and I frankly didn’t care because it’s the first time I have had yogurt in a couple months. I honestly didn’t even think twice when I realized the seal was broken and parts of the yogurt were dried spilling out of the top of the lid. I’ll let you know if I get sick… it’s supposed to be “good” bacteria right? I stood there waiting for sister Tina.
Waiting in the front of a busy store in Kenya is no easy task. There are young Kenyan men that walk up to say “How are you” attempting conversation but can’t go much further than that. There are men who stare from a distance. I’m talking about the stalker sort of attempting-to-lock-eyes-but-continually-alternating-glances-from-head-to-toe-while-slowly-turning-their-body-towards-you-and-winking-or-head-knodding-in-attempts-to-make-the-staring-more-intense kind of stalker creepy. I sometimes forget that my skin looks so different because the people in my village are so welcoming, and I don’t have a mirror to constantly remind me of what I look like. However, there is nothing like a good waiting period in front of a busy store to remind you that your skin is blindingly white, your hair is yellow and fluffy, and no matter how hard you try to dress like the locals… you always look funny. I had a nice conversation with Adam on the phone which helped me escape for a little bit. After our chat, the security guard graciously brought me a plastic chair to sit in. I didn’t even realize how tired my legs were, or how long I had actually been standing there. The guys bagging groceries were taking turns staring at me, in that creepy stalker way, and I exchanged glances with almost everyone who entered the store. I looked at my watch only to realize I had been standing, now sitting, in front of this store for an hour! What happened to “I don’t really need to do any shopping?” What on gods green earth was sweet 4 foot tall sister Tina doing? This place was hardly a quarter the size of an American grocery store and she lives here, so she can’t be nearly as star-struck as I get with the “bounty” of stuff on the shelves? More staring and nodding from the grocery baggers. No marriage proposals yet, but it could have only been a matter of time. Thankfully I see the tippy top of Tina’s head in one of the checkout lines. Grocery list obviously included: 3 loafs of bread, shoes, rice, sanitary pads and a garden hose. Nice.
It started to rain on our way home, like it does almost every afternoon. But, it was the nice kind of rain. It was the kind of rain where the sky opens up in a downpour, but you can still see the sun shining. As we got closer to home I had one of those “I can’t believe I live here” moments. My village is beautiful, lush and green. Sometimes it reminds me of Maui because there are velvety green rolling hills and fields of sugar cane and banana. Kenya definitely has its ups and downs. I may not be eating the foods that I want to or enjoying all the pleasures of life. But I have learned that nothing could make me happier right now than a beautiful sunset, warm cheddar cheese, and a room temperature glass of Chenin Blanc.
Sunset at the field behind the clinic
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