Hakuna Matata and Chicken Wings: a Smattering of Observations from Week 1

There are 44 different mother tongues in Kenya. Most of those have multiple dialects. These are typically picked up from whatever tribe a person’s mother comes from thus the phrase “mother tongue.” The mother tongue is often referred to as the vernacular. Most of the people I’ve been interacting with speak Kikuyu. Kenyans often switch between English, Swahili, and their mother tongue mid sentence so keeping up with the conversation requires attentive listening. They also talk very quietly, just above a whisper in everyday conversation. Thus the need to listen with even more care. Kenya has very different hygiene than we do in the States. Generally, people wash hands before meals, but there isn’t soap involved unless you are in a wealthy home. Food preparation also has very different standards. Food often sits out without being refrigerated and then is served again the next day. Sometimes Saran Wrap is used to cover refrigerated food but most of the time half used produce just sits out. It’s super gross by my usual standards so I do my best not to think about it. Fortunately, I’ve remained healthy so far and I think it’s because pretty much everything gets cooked. Hopefully I’ll continue in that way. Hakuna Matata is an actual phrase that people utilize in everyday conversations - it’s not just a song from the Lion King. And yes, does actually mean not to worry. Needless to say the tune has been stuck in my head all week. People don’t drink water, like ever. This is a tea drinking culture. It is served after meals and in between meals. No drinks are served during the meal which has really thrown me off. I usually take much longer to eat than everyone else because I find it more difficult to swallow without a beverage to wash down my food. Fortunately there is a filtered water cooler in the Manse so I keep my water bottle filled with that to drink throughout the day to stay hydrated. This is also weird to them. Mosquitos are definitely a thing. The windows on every building remain open all the time so mosquitoes are always a nuisance. Before you freak out, I am taking my Malaria medicine religiously and sleeping under a bed net. I’m the type of person who gets eaten alive during hot southern summers. However, despite already having multiple bites, they don’t itch anywhere near what they do at home. Super weird but I’m not complaining. Most of my bites have been around my upper arms which brings me to my next point. Deodorant is not a thing. I knew this would be the case coming in. Nobody seems to be phased by it except for me because I come from a culture that functions differently. The fact that I do wear it has attracted mosquitos to my upper arms and shoulders. Fortunately, I brought two kinds and one is one of those super natural ones. I’ve started wearing that one and I’ve been getting way less bites. When people point to things, they use their middle finger. Obviously it doesn’t mean the same thing it does in American culture, but it throws me off every time it happens. Driving is different over here. The most visible difference is that the driver seat is on the right and you usually drive in the left side of the road. I say usually because there don’t seem to be many traffic laws here. Drivers seem to go in whatever direction they want. Occasional honking informs others of what direction you are trying to go. We side swiped another vehicle yesterday. It scraped our car and nearly removed our mirror but we just keep driving at the same speed. I try not to pay attention to the driver while in the car because it makes me nervous. Also, the roads are different. Main roads are paved and sometimes have lines, but within the estates (neighborhoods) there are dirt roads. Since there is so much rain, the roads get washed out easily and there are always more potholes to avoid. It tends to be very bumpy and I feel carsick most of the time we are on dirt roads. Chicken wings bring people together. Some of the session members I had dinner with thought that Americans used a knife and fork with every food at every meal. They were surprised to find out that we eat chicken off the bone too and that I didn’t find it a strange habit. There is a certain protocol with shoes. Since it’s the rainy season right now, the roads are extra muddy. When you get home you leave your muddy shoes on the front porch. Then you put on your slippers (aka flip flops) to wear while you walk around the house. Most of the house has tile floors. When you get to a rug or carpet of any kind, you take them off to feel the carpet on your feet. You put them back on when you leave the carpeted area. When you take dishes from the kitchen (tile) to the dining room (carpet) you have to remove your shoes for 5 seconds, set down the dish, and then return to the kitchen and repeat the process with the next dish. I forgot to put them back on once and got a lecture about how I’m going to die from illness if I walk around barefoot in the house. Heaven forbid. Our bodies adjust to climate. It’s been in the mid to upper seventies (Fahrenheit) which I consider to be pretty mild. However, this is the rainy season (aka winter) for the folks who live here so they’ve been wearing coats, scarves, and some even carry around blankets. My lack of outerwear is yet another thing that makes me peculiar. Apparently there are wild monkeys that wander around in the same way some deer do in the U.S. The make unexpected appearances and are even brave enough to come into the house through the windows to steal fruit right off the kitchen table. That’s a real thing that happened while I was napping yesterday. Nobody likes them but the ones I saw on the street were super cute from a distance. Music is a major aspect of Kenyan culture. Singing has been involved in every gathering we’ve attended so far. Most of the time it’s a cappella. This tradition evolved from tribal religion but now they typically sing familiar hymn tunes. I love that there is so much singing (even if I don’t always understand the lyrics). God is at work here. Not that I thought I would encounter anything otherwise, it’s just undeniably evident. ~ Love always from Nell in Nairobi 

PS: here’s a photo from a random fruit market that I took on the way home from funeral #3 today.