I hate my commute. I hate every single part of it.
I hate swinging onto a moving bus and trying to gain purchase on the handrails before the front wheel hits the pot hole outside our building, sending me flying into a stranger’s lap. Even after 12 months I still hate turning the corner to the matatu stage knowing I’ll be hassled and grabbed by the touts until I choose a vehicle, and it’s still in fate’s hands whether the one I board goes my way. When I alight in Embakasi, after all this time, I’ve still never got used to being the only white person, worse - being a white woman all alone; and while I can now handle the shouts, jeers and stares much better, I still truly dislike crossing three lanes of chugging, heavy-duty traffic on foot, dancing with double-decker articulated lorries and jumping away from motorbike taxis that try and plough me down. And there really is nothing to recommend the final part of my journey, where I march down the railway line, dodging the lakes of sewage and herds of cows, through construction dust and chai-spot smoke and blackened truck fumes; air so thick I can chew on it.
But that’s all over now.
I finished my placement at the end of June, and while I may be back next week to say a proper goodbye to all my colleagues, I'll be taking Dan along with me, making all the difference in the world. I look back on a year of my hateful commute, and count up the most annoying moments:
- a man greeting me, expecting a response and my phone number (3 times a day)
- being called to and laughed at by big groups of men (most days)
- a man proposing marriage at the top of his voice (about once a month)
- being the only witness to a terrible accident between a lorry and a cyclist (once)
- receiving the impact of a car crashing at full speed into my matatu (once)
- being weed on by a cow (mercifully, just once)
Yet none of these frustrations comes even CLOSE to leaving a stain on an incredible year in my life. As a testament to this truly wonderful year, the daily indignity of travelling to my placement has already become a faded memory.
I have had the very, very best time in Kenya.
I’ve gained so much, I started to compile a list of all the things I’ve learnt and there’s just too many to fit into a conversation without totally dominating it, and far too many to list in a blog post. So let me just give you a taste.
Here it is: The Abridged List of What I Know Now
I know more about things. I have really enjoyed the experience of constantly learning new stuff: a new word, a fresh perspective, a new part of town…even how to load electricity credit at the supermarket! Every day has been a steep learning curve, but I’ve appreciated the chance to learn, to get better at stuff. The many trips we’ve taken this year have taught us about the geography, geology, peoples and politics of East Africa all of which we’ve found remarkable. And if you’re still reading this blog, I hope you’ve found it interesting too.
I know more people. One of my favourite things about living abroad is that other new people are often very open to friendship, and very willing to give help. They are unguarded, non-judgmental; they’re ready to invite you out, to join a trip you’re arranging, or to show you round their neighbourhood, because they are also far from home and building a life. Or they’re Kenyan and interested in us and where we’ve come from, and they always welcome us with open arms and hot chai. We’ve tried to mimic all this friendliness in what we call the ‘Karibuni Sana’ philosophy (You are All Very Welcome); we send open invites, all the time. This approach, paired with shorter working hours and a city much smaller than London, has made for very many evenings out in which we go new places, meet new people, cab home in 15 minutes and are up for work in the morning. It’s been BUSY. But completely awesome, and we’ve made friends this year I hope we’ll keep for a lifetime.
I know Nairobi. Whilst London always felt too big, with too much going on, and too many unreachable places and fancy people, Nairobi is manageable, knowable, and has allowed us to reach into most areas. We’ve partied in East Nairobi on 70p beers and also mixed with celebrities and VIPs in the best hotels in town. If it wasn’t our stated aim for the year to step off the treadmill and have a whole mountain of fun, it’s been a truly fantastic byproduct.
I know more about how I work. My placement has been a little wonky, regular readers will know this now. I won’t be the first or last VSO volunteer to try and fail to build solid working relationships when the foundations we were given were crumbling before we arrived. But I’ve gained so much from the experience. Knowing about front-line realities of International Development must surely be more useful than a degree in that subject? Working in an environment so alien that I often thought wistfully, fondly, of the British working world I left behind, will certainly put any Bad Day in the Office in perspective once I’m back in London. And it’s definitely a plus that I’ve affirmed my personal working style, that I can say with confidence I do my best work when working with others, when I’m trusted to give my opinion and make changes, and when the goal is very clearly defined. I've found working in the exact opposite of those conditions very difficult, it's just who I am.
I know a bit more about me. I think that perhaps the things we liked most when we were 14, form the basis of our choices in later life. At 14, I wanted to be journalist, I hated the pressures of looking good and dressing right, and was never happier than when either eating cheese, performing in a play or show, or in the sunshine, playing silly jumping in games at a swimming pool (even if it wasn’t very cool at that age). And so it is for me now. This year I’ve had wonderful days swimming in warm oceans and larking around with buddies in many many swimming pools….bliss. I’ve enjoyed researching and interviewing and drafting and re-drafting and pouring time and energy into creating this blog. With no deadline or editor it’s been the most enjoyable kind of journalism. I’ve really missed cheese, and felt the absence of that side of me that loves to sing a show tune with my choir back home.
And so we come to looking good and dressing right, a pressure on women whether 14 or 40. Here in Kenya, I feel no such force. There are very few images of white female beauty in my life right now. The big billboards and glossy magazines are compelling African women to look right and use their product, and they are African pressures: better weave, lighter skin, cleaner clothes. On an average day the only white woman I see is my reflection, and I love the lack of judgment. I’ve not really thought about losing weight or whitening my teeth or buying clothes since I arrived, which suggests that this is my natural state of being, and all those previous ‘needs’ are just outside pressure (well- durr!). Before they take offense, I must stress that there are beautiful, well-dressed Caucasian women in my life right now, but we all get together and giggle about how we recycle our two ‘going out’ outfits, how the jeans we only ever wore for painting back home have become our most prized and smartest clobber and how tiny holes have appeared at the front of all tops (why?? and why only at the front?!) but we wear them anyway.
(Before you think that being-scruffy-all-year-and-loving-it is the largest personal revelation I have experienced after a full year away, I know there are more. But I think I’ll only know what they are once I’m back home. I know I’ll miss Kenya, I just don’t yet know which parts I’ll long for the most)
And so there you have the list. All of this Stuff I Now Know adds up to the phenomenon of Lots Happens Every Week™. This does not always occur in ‘real life’ back home, and results in feeling as if we’ve been away for much longer than 12 months. I imagine us returning to the UK through the wardrobe from Narnia, and finding that while we’ve experienced so much, perhaps less has happened back ‘home’. I wonder.
We’ve been warned that we’ll need 10-second answers to a few key questions, to better prepare for curious friends and colleagues who care but cannot hope to last the course of everything we have to say. I guess that’s why we blog, to avoid having to divulge a full year of experience in one go. But, pretentious as I may be, I don’t think I can say, Why don’t you just check out our blog? with a straight face. In the meantime I’ll keep working on my pithy responses to…
- How was it?
- How does it feel being home?
- What plans do you have now? And the last one -
- Has it changed your life?
Has my life been changed? No, I don’t think so. I quite liked my life before, and hope I will again. Has it been altered? Possibly, although only time will tell how. I know that I love adventures, making new friends and making the most of every day. I also know that I don’t really need much stuff to be happy and that living abroad really agrees with me. Beyond that, we’ll see.
Right now we’re in limbo, placements done but not quite on a plane. We’re travelling, saying goodbyes, selling our stuff and planning a leaving do. It’s busy, but much easier than leaving the UK last July. It’s also a very fun time just spending every day together and teasing each other about mood swings or bad nights’ sleep as we react in our own way to the temporary nature of our lives right now.
We will be sad to leave Kenya, but happy to be home. And I’m still working on my 10-second answers.
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