Ngong Show...

If I had to sum up Ngong (which I don’t, but I will) I would say: fruit juice, corn, sugar cane, electricity (or lack thereof), cold showers, the ability to sell my roommates, mzungu how are you?, late night chocolate runs and becoming too comfortable. Got all that? Let me explain. The simple pleasures. These are aspects of my day to day life (I’ll still tell you about Living Positive Women’s Center, I promise). They are not the big excursions and crazy adventures, they are the things that have become my reality; the things that I wouldn’t normally write about, but to really feel Kenya and more specifically, my time spent in Ngong, they are crazy important. There is Phillip, the man who runs the fruit juice shop across the street from where I live. I was introduced to him by Isaac on my first day. He is an amazing guy who spends the time to talk to us about our families and how we are enjoying Kenya every time we walk into his shop. My only qualm that I have with him is that I’m sure that he puts something in his fruit juice. I get the shakes if I go for a few days without it; it’s that good. Even on days that I don’t get the fruit juice I stop in to say what’s up to Phillip on my way home from work. He really likes us and he is one of my favorite characters in Ngong. The corn venders are all over the place in Ngong and throughout Nairobi. They are guys that set up a makeshift grill and torch corn all day. At first I was scared to try it… warnings about my mzungu stomach made me weary of street vendors. But as soon as I mustered the courage to try it, a beautiful love affair began. Put the chili sauce and the lime on it. Game over. Sugar cane is the same story. I get it every day (20 cents for a whole cane). The men selling it hack it up with machetes and serve it to you right on the side of the road. Mmmm mmmm! The electricity in Ngong could not be more spotty. It is off more than it is on. It first started on the night it rained, which we thought was normal, they weren’t prepared for the rain. But now it happens at least once every day. It’s not that bad, you get used to it. Use flashlights and candles; to be honest its kind of fun. It’s a running joke with my roommates and house mom. We place bets on it. The thing is, its not just our apartment or apartment building. It’s the whole area of Ngong, all at once. Oh well, T.I.A… The cold showers are another story. You have to jump in and jump out, jump in and jump out. You soap up your hair and duck it under. Soap up your right arm, duck it under. Soap up your left arm and quickly rinse it off. It is the hokey pokey. You put your left leg in, your put your left leg out, you put your left leg in and then you scream because you can’t feel it anymore… I look forward to bucket showers. BUCKET SHOWERS. You can at least heat up the water in the bucket! Then you use a cup or a pitcher and you scoop the water out of the bucket and pour it on the desired part of the body. It is an art. A science… A skill that I am yet to acquire. Talk about awkward; half covered in soap and dripping wet having to walk outside to refill the bucket. This is my life! The ability to sell my roommates is simple really, although it doesn’t sound that way. Every time I walk down the street with my female roommates I get at least 4 to 5 offers, either monetary or goats or some other form of currency, to let the prospective buyer take my roommate off my hand. Although I’ve been tempted a few times, I haven’t pulled the trigger yet. Maybe later on in my trip when I am strapped for cash… mzungu how are you is the only phrase that EVERYONE in Ngong knows how to say. Most people speak at least some English, and some people have a better vocabulary and handle on the English language than I do. But even the people with the lowest level of education, even the kids who are too young to speak fluent Swahili know how to say “mzungu how are you?”. So as you can imagine, in a town where some people have literally never seen a white person, a community where mzungus are rare and reason enough to stop what you are doing and stare, I hear “mzungu, how are you”, quite often. Late night chocolate runs (being about 9 or 10 at night, if that late) have become a tradition in our house. There is no sugar in any of the food, so we usually get nightly cravings. Luckily there is a candy store just around the corner and the roommates build up the courage to make our way (post sundown) to the candy store to pick up some dairy milk, top deck chocolates. That may mean nothing to you, but I promise they are worth the risk of walking through the streets of Ngong at night… yeah I said it. They are worth risking your life and 25 cents you bring to the candy store to buy them (maybe a touch dramatic but you get the point). Getting too comfortable. I have been in Kenya for 3 weeks. It feels like 3 minutes and it feels like 3 years. I feel like I just got here, but I feel like I have been living here my whole life. I need to get pickpocketed. Slow down, let me explain. I need to come back down to earth and remember that I can’t be so comfortable here because it is a place where I am not exactly a chameleon. I postulate that there are 3 ways for this return to reality to take place. 1) get pickpocketed 2) get sick from the food or water or 3) get robbed at gunpoint. Literally almost every single mzungu that I know in Nairobi has had at least one of those three things happen to them, and a lot have unfortunately had more than one of those things happen to them. I figure that if I had to choose one of those three things; I’m going with pickpocketed rather than carjacked, but that’s just me. Hopefully (knock wood, wherever you are) none of those will happen because I am still on my toes… I’m just saying….