Orientation

After a few days of adjusting to cold showers and a constant presence of Africa’s famed red dust, orientation came the first Monday in Africa. We were told to pack everything at Pastor Regina’s, as we would most likely be moving to another home stay, and that someone would be by to pick us up around 930ish, which loosely translated into, someone should be around sometime to collect us Monday morning…ish. In Kenya, everything runs on Africa time, which is to say time is a fluid and flexible approximation of the happenings, leaving my watch to be more of an instrument of frustration than practicality.

At the orientation the mix of American, Canadian, and English volunteers introduced themselves and explained why each came to Kenya. Job loss and a desire to help seemed to carry a common theme amongst the group. The head of Fadhili Community, the Kenyan organization that was to act as a go between for the volunteers and their placements, Joe Gichuki welcomed all of us with a hearty warm laugh and then launched into an informative talk about the customs of his country and some of the precautions that one should take. Fadhili started as a way to link international volunteers with need based groups in Kenya. Like many organizations, it serves a purpose for the community, while also providing an income for the young staff that works for it.

In the afternoon, we took a trip to the Nakumat, an African version of Wal-Mart, to buy some of the essentials one might need, i.e. toilet paper. Since we had already been there before (Pastor Regina’s is a 10 minute walk away), I used the time to explore the rest of the mall. It was a surreal feeling, one I did not appreciate, being in what could be considered quintessentially American. The mall had everything from an African version of Barnes and Nobles to a food court with an imitation Jamba Juice. The final nail came when the first booked I picked up relayed the account of Peter Beard’s, a Montauk resident, trampling by a bull elephant. I was all too happy to leave.

In order to drop all the volunteers at their respective home stays, we darted around the city for hours, until the sun finally set. In Kenya, there are few streetlights, but this does not prevent many drivers from driving without headlights either. Whipping through the streets, avoiding the pedestrians crowding the roads and the other erratic vehicles provided quite a bit of entertainment and worried looks, but the excitement was not enough as I dosed off along the bumpy ride. By the time we reached, Mama Lydia’s it was well past dark. The low stone building stands behind a 12 foot wall with a solid iron fence. Mama Lydia, a boisterous and friendly woman, welcomed us and showed us to our rooms. Yvonne and Louise, Canadian twin sisters, would be staying and working with me. I was left in a small room with four empty bunk beds and the unexpected promise of hot showers in the morning.