Getting Pushed and Pushing Back

March 25th, 2009

Firstly, I want to have a big shout out for my baby sister’s 20th birthday!!! Finally, I don’t feel quite like the oldest kid in our house anymore…but anyways, onto the important aspects of my life.

I’m not quite sure how to write about my past two weeks. I sincerely apologize if I am inarticulate or rambling in these posts, my internet time is a part of my budget and that means that I’m not afforded adequate time to write a blog worthy of my adventures, trials and tribulations!

Tomorrow will be the last day of what has been the accumulation of 9 weeks of learning, feeling, understanding, academic excitement (aka nerdiness), eye-opening experiencing. We have our Independent Study Proposal due on Friday, which is basically outlining what we’ll be doing exactly, where we’ll be doing it, research question, budget, methodology...etc. It’s been great practice if I ever decide to continue this kind of research and I apply for a grant or a fellowship, and now that I’ve been in Kenya getting more and more excited about what I’m doing, that is a venue that is very possible for my future. Since Saturday, I and 8 other students stayed at a hotel in Nairobi, and it was so amazing to experience freedom! We explored the city, made many Kenyan friends, lived it up basically. Then we remembered we had to do work! And that is why I have been on the computer all morning. But I wouldn’t have traded it for anything! It was so fun. One day, I even decided to explore on my own. I had gotten a contact from my African Politics professor at GW, so I decided to make my way across town to a foundation call the Heinrich Boll Building, which is a great private organization that supports organizations and publications that have to deal with gender equality, the environment, and sustainable development.

So I walked up the road from the hotel to catch some sort of transportation. It’s only 8 am and its already 85 degrees in the sun. I walk for about 20 minutes and I finally ask someone how to get downtown. I find myself asking for directions at least 15 times during the course of this excursion! I get on the bus, which is hard to describe. It’s packed to the edge with people, it’s hot and I’m punched with a hundred different odors at once. Not completely appealing, I’ve grown kind of fond of the body odor, the burning trash, the sun beating down on a sewage river…It’s all a part of this crazy setting that pushes me farther out of my comfort zone than I’ve ever thought possible. I am looking for Kimathi Road, which could be anything from a dirt path to the main road downtown I haven’t the slightest clue. Luckily, there is an elderly man sitting next to me who overhears a phone conversation I’m having, and he shows me exactly where to get off and how to get to the matatu station where I need to be. A matatu, by the way, is the main means of transportation in Nairobi, a major huge busy bustling city. A matatu is essentially a van that has certain routes, you can pick one up anywhere and it will take you according to its route where to go. Sounds simple, right? What you don’t know is that the matatu man (not the driver, the guy who collects the money and tries to “encourage” patrons to alight his matatu) will most definitely lie to anyone who doesn’t know what they are doing, and tell you that they are traveling in your direction when in fact you are going the totally opposite way. You find this out, of course, after you have paid them. Luckily, I have been prepared about this, and as I walk through downtown, admiring the beautiful buildings and taking in all the scenery (not too much though, that will get you accosted or hit by a bus—it would fit right in any German cautionary tale for children…) Then in the middle of the city is this parking lot full of dirty, smelly, rap-blowing matatus. It reminded me of a bees nest, this is their starting point, where they all come back to buzz. I’m being grabbed and handled, pulled in all directions toward no specific van, but I manage to throw off the men and the taunts with my favorite Kiswahili phrase “Potoa!” which is basically the equivalent of “GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!”.

From this point on the rest of my trip was without many hiccups, except for when I got seriously lost trying to find “Forest Road” which is actually two roads, split apart by a roundabout of death. If there is one thing you have to know about Nairobi, cars do not, will not, will never ever ever stop or even falter for pedestrians. In fact, they speed up. So I ran between alternating cars, matatus and buses for about an hour and found myself in a bad part of town. I realized this once everyone started staring at me, yelling “Mzungu!” and various other hawks. I turned on my heel and speed-walked as fast as I could back to the crazy roundabout. This was when I gave up on my search for Heinrich Boll, and started my way home. About 3 minutes later, I turned at a sign that said “Forest Road” and right in front of me was beautiful white house with a black gate adorned with pink flowers, with a sign saying “Heinrich Boll Foundation”. I almost cried! Through all of the dust and the sun and the confusion I had made it through an African city all by myself and I actually succeeded in my destination! The man at the front desk was extremely nice to me, and I left with a stack of publications that they gave me for free, just for being a student interested in Kenyan development.

My one successful day out of a series of failed attempts. One of the greatest lessons that I’m learning here is how to let things go, how to realize that not everything is in your power, and most importantly that patience is the greatest virtue. Patience not only puts things in perspective, it lowers your blood pressure and allows time for deep breathing. This doesn’t just apply to being in a strange country and not understanding the customs, it also has to do with the people that I am with all day long who do not understand patience. This place has really rocked me. I have been pushed, slapped, bumped, pinched, spit on, cursed at, hawked at…I’m hit every day by rocks and matatus and people. I’m wicked bruised, literally, and I’m sure my feet are permanently red-brown and dented from pebbles. I also can now fully appreciate what I used to do when I was tired, dirty and spent…I would shower and curl in bed and watch a good movie. This has happened once this trip and it made me so homesick I cried. Homesickness is a weird thing…it’s like someone comes up behind you and grabs you by the back of the throat and pitches you forward into the dust. You’re okay, but you feel shaken, confused and entirely aware of your surroundings for the rest of the day. It’s a haunt that can’t be cured; you just have to keep trying to feel your way around and not lose sight of what it is that you can across the world for. Well, I’ve been racking up quite the bill. I hope you are all doing well, and I can’t wait to come home and share my experiences firsthand. However, I still have a lot more to go!


P.S. If you want to see some of the places that I'm talking about, I was told that youtube is a great source. Just type in things like Nairobi, Kibera, Mombasa...etc and I'm sure you'll find some videos that would help to paint a better picture so to speak.