worldviews

Again, I'm sitting in front of the computer (in the internet cafe of all places) with a blank space in my head where the words are supposed to be coming from. I'm in Karen, a mzungu-filled town center where I'm waiting for my trousers (pants) to be taken in yet again by the seamstress next door. I have some articles to look up for research for one of my term papers on human rights and African culture while I'm here, however I am simply not looking forward to writing the paper...

Lately I've been growing a bit restless, tired once again of a routine. I've been here for three full months now and I think I'm ready for change. It also could be the thought of writing this paper and taking my final exam that has me wishing for the end of November already. :) Although I dread leaving here because I'm so comfortable and used to everything and love my friends and family here so much, I am so ready for more adventures. I think certain [major] differences in the culture and way of life here are really getting to me as well.

The first I think is having people constantly ask me for things and expect things of me. It's tiring to always have to be ready with a graceful, respectful response to someone who asks for your shirt, or laptop, or camera, or, just yesterday, my jacket. These can be people you don't even know who sit next to you on a matatu or people you live with-everyone is fair game. It is a cultural thing for sure-no one here is an individual-everyone is for and with everyone else. It's a what's mine is yours kind of thing. It's just not the way I operate unfortunately. I probably will end up leaving a lot here because of all I've accumulated but what will I have left if I give away everything everyone asks me for? How many people would I have living at my house in MN if I took everyone back with me who asked? You just can't give everything and it's tiring to try and avoid that all the time.

This particular item that makes me weary is not cultural, but a result of poverty and desperation. I am tired of having to ALWAYS be so alert all the time when I'm going anywhere for fear of getting my things stolen or getting mugged. I've only had to be in the city by myself without Chris a few times, but when I have, I have practically run through the street clutching my bag for dear life to prevent anything from getting stolen or my bag from getting cut. There have been several experiences such as this: I have had two bags cut with a knife-not the straps, but holes in the bag-with the hope that something of value would fall out, which luckily did not happen either time. Another Saturday afternoon, we were on our way home from the hospital where our dear friend had just given birth and were walking through town to the matatu stop and I had a backpack on because I had brought it to the hospital with me for things to do. Chris was walking behind me to avoid people stealing from it and when we were in a big crowd that was bottlenecking and Chris fell behind a bit, I felt something and reaching around and grabbed this man's hand out of the side pocket of my bag. Chris grabbed him, picked him up, put him aside, checked his hands, and then we walked quickly away. Again, he didn't get anything. Chris has had two matatu experiences where I was not with him where people were trying to reach into his pockets and his bag to get what they could. I won't go into detail, but it's a really scary thing and a huge reality one has to deal with when living in Nairobi. I can't tell you how exhausting it is, even when Chris is there with me to be that completely alert and weary all the time. I hate that I have to even suspect children on the street of stealing from me. No one can be trusted and I don't like that feeling at all. It's not even that they are bad people, but stealing for them is a survival technique because of the poverty they are in. It's so sad to see.

I'm also growing tired of "African time." After a point, I can't help but see it as complete disrespect for other people. I completely understand how people get held up a few minutes here and there because of greeting someone or a jam or something like that, but several times I have planned on leaving my hostel at a certain time, having to be driven by our driver there for various reasons and an hour or two later we leave and I am ridiculously late for wherever it is I have to be. I cannot tell you how frustrating that is for me. I am completely fine with even up to 1/2 hour late, but one or two hours is a bit ridiculous and disrespectful, even for "African time."

Chris and I have also learned how that no matter what plans you make here, and how well you make them, things never ever go according to those plans. It does become comical over time and you learn to be flexible and to just go with the flow and not plan anything or make ten different sets of plans in the hope that one of them or a combination of some of them works out. But most of the time you're flying by the seat of your pants. It's ok for a while, but sometimes it's nice to know what to expect.

These aren't necessarily rants by any means and I am not complaining, although that may indeed be what it sounds like, but I am pointing out some huge cultural and worldview differences that have become more than apparent to me since being here. They are not something I think needs to change, just things that conflict with my culture and where I come from and sometimes makes the reality of life here frustrating. Chris and I are both frustrated with these things-which is nice to have someone who understands so well. But hey, as they say here: sawa. (it's ok)

Well, my trousers are almost ready so I'm going to finish up gathering my articles and head on out and back to Langata for class.

In case you were at all confused by this blog, I'm still doing great and I wouldn't trade this experience for anything. God works and teaches me in incredible ways!