Last day in Kakamega

Yesterday I ventured out alone for the first time since coming to Africa. I’m still unclear what exactly my living situation will be, but I know I’ll need kitchen utensils so I started to walk back through town to Tusky’s. Not long into my journey I noticed a small boy (maybe 9 years old) following me closely at my elbow. A minute later, there were two of them. I asked them how they were, and the next thing I know, we’re all walking in a line holding hands. Oh boy, I thought, what did I just get myself into, but it made me smile and it was nice to have company. Their names were Stephen and Juma, and they never left my side the entirety of my shopping trip. I literally couldn’t make any sudden movements, because every time I turned around I was bumping into one of them. They tried to carry stuff for me and would grab things off the shelf before I could reach them, so I think they were aiming to be paid for the help. I felt a little sad at their disappointed faces when I said goodbye without giving them anything, but as Peter said, my white skin may as well be a flashing dollar sign on my forehead, and I need to make it clear that I am not here to hand out money.

While shopping I started to feel foolish again about my expectations for the region. I had lugged overseas several extra tubes of toothpaste, shampoo, soap, etc., thinking I would not be able to find them here. WRONG. Kakamega has pretty much everything I could ever need, including a cheap paperback copy of a book I’ve been wanting to read but didn’t buy back home because it was too expensive (too embarrassed to name the book but, Curtis, if you’re reading this, I think you know which one I’m talking about). I feel the same way about my wardrobe. Even in rural Kakamega, people for the most part do not dress like they are in the third world. This is especially true for the women, who often wear heels and snappy skirts and blouses. They do have a strange tendency to wear heavy coats or pullovers, which frankly baffles me as I sweat through my light T-shirts.

I don’t know if it was because there were fewer people on the streets or because Nancy wasn’t by my side, but I attracted a little more attention as I walked around town. It mostly came from men, who had the awkward tendency of waiting until after I had walked by to say “Hello, how are you?” or “Mzungu, hello!” (Mzungu is an all-inclusive term for “white person”). A few times I had to sidestep men offering rides on their boda bodas or in their matatus and say, “No thanks, I’m walking”. A boda boda is a simply a bike with a seat on the back and is a very popular/cheap mode of transport. Children and a couple women said hi to me as well. The children would giggle when I answered their greetings, and one little girl ran up and touched my arm as I passed by her in the store.

Last night I met my first group of Americans since arriving in Kakamega. They are a Christian group staying in the hotel as they travel around to nearby villages fitting people with glasses. I sat with them as they finished their dinner and went over their day and the upcoming days. Yesterday had been rough for them, as the village was very poor and no one spoke English. When I explained I would be teaching in Shikokho, a pastor they are working with native to the area said it was very close to where they had been that day. It hasn’t been that long, but it was nice to be around a bunch of other mzungus. They were worn out from the hard day but were very friendly and invited me to come along with them today. Unfortunately I had some more stuff to take care of here, so it didn’t work out. It was very neat, however, to hear about where some of our old donated glasses end up—I think I heard them say they gave out a couple hundred pairs in that one day alone!

Sometime today I think either Peter or the Headmaster, Thomas, will be in Kakamega to speak with me, and tomorrow morning Thomas will pick me up at the hotel in his car and bring me to Shikokho. I know the school opens tomorrow, but I do not know if that means classes will start (I hope not). The Kenyan way of life is very slow and relaxed, so it takes a while to figure out details—LUCKILY, though, my way of life is also very slow and relaxed. Hakuna Matata! (And yes, this is an actual Kiswahili phrase meaning “there are no problems,” and it is the unofficial motto of Kenya. Another language note—the term “Swahili” does not actually refer to the language, it refers to the culture that originated with the fusion of Kenyan coastal tribes and Arab traders. The “ki” means “language of.” So, Kiswahili means “language of the Swahili people.” The people of Shikokho are Luhya, so they speak Kiluhya--although I think many of them also know Kiswahili and at least some English).

I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get internet next, but I should have good cell service if you feel like calling. You can email my dad at Chuck@thecastlefamily.com and he can get you the info on calling cards (they are cheap, I swear).