Last night I felt like any kid getting ready for the first day of class. I picked out what I wanted to wear, got everything out so that I could get dressed quickly and get to breakfast at 7:00am. I was told I needed to be at the bus stop close to 7:00 so that I would have no trouble to be at class when it started at 9:00.
I felt like a pro on day two. I went to the right mess hall. I got my food and shared a table with three delightful people. They were the first “strangers” on the trip who seemed open and interested in serious dialogue. They were interested in what I was doing and I them. I ate quickly and headed to the bus stop, but not before one of them said, “See you tonight.” It was amazing how a simple gesture of friendship was so meaningful.
Bus to Tangaza
I went to the bus stop and waited. Then I waited. I waited some more. I was given instructions to take the bus labeled “24.” Many buses came and went, none with the right designation. After 1 hour I began to get suspicious. Slowly and idea came to my mind.
“What if 24 does not run by this stop?”
I began to replay the journey from the previous day with Maurice, my research tutor. We had tried to come back on a 24, but it rerouted. He said that it was due to a different company running the bus, but a normal 24 would come to this spot. I decided at that moment he was wrong. No 24 came to this spot.
I knew immediately what I needed to do. I jumped on the next 111. This bus travels up and down Ngong road. Maurice and I had ridden this bus the day before. I needed to ride it to Karen. Essentially this is a suburb of Nairobi named after Karen Blixen, made famous by the movie Out of Africa. Immediately my nervousness set in, “Would I recognize the place to get off the bus?
I started to look both directions for landmarks, for funny shop names, for anything that I might lock into my brain so that I would know where to get off the bus. Fifteen minutes later we came to Karen. I did see things I knew and I ran the buzzer to get off.
I crossed to the spot where we caught the 24 the day before. After 1 hour and 15 minutes I had seen thousands of people only four of us where white. Now I was way out of Nairobi and I was fairly obvious. Taxi drivers wanted my business; the shop sellers wanted me, the Matatu* touts kept yelling for me to get into their vans.
I patiently and simple said, “No, I am waiting on the Citi Hoppa 24.” They would try to convince me that they were faster, better, here, but I just waited. Twenty minutes went by and then a 24 bus appeared. My mind screamed, “Victory.” I got on the bus and saw one of the white faces that I had noticed waiting by the side of the road while I was on the 111 bus.
The ticket man came and I told him I wanted to buy a ticket to Tangaza. He told me this 24 would not go that far, but I could get another 24 when the bus stopped. The girl behind me chimed in, this is not going to Tangaza? Sure enough in the middle of almost no where the bus stopped, they said they needed air in the tire, and we walked to the road and waited.
Eventually a Matatu came with the 24 sign in the window. By this time it was 9:00 and we were already late. Sarah, the other girl and I, jumped on the Mattata. It was fine. Not much competition meant a safer easier ride. We arrived at Tangaza college at 9:17.
*Matatu means ‘three’ and is they way they refer to a fleet of vans that are privately owned and run throughout the city. They mimic the official bus company routes. They are small vans, but can pack in 12-14 people. It is amazing. They also compete for passengers. Which means they drive like crazy to pass each other and get to the next bus stop first, where there are frequent yelling matches as people get on and off the vans. People do this in a hurry because they barely like to slow down. I was told by Maurice to get the city bus and avoid the Matatus.
The first person I met in the class was Sarah. She is just finished with college, from Bolivia where here Swiss parents are missionaries. English is her third language. These people always make me feel like a narrow minded American.
Class had started by the time we arrived. We missed the introductions, but through the day I pieced this information together. There are 35 students in the class and 35 research assistants. The majority of the students are from Africa and all of the assistants are Africans. There is a group of 5 students from Bolivia, Sarah is in this group. There is a group of three Americans who are Bible translators in the Sudan. There are two American Catholic nuns who are stationed in Kenya.
I have met Africans from Kenya and Nigeria and have been told that other countries are represented.
Class Orientation
The class is a simple but nice place. The bright African light makes artificial lighting seem strange. A picture of Kilimanjaro hangs on the front wall. The professors were incredible. I learned so many helpful things and they have been doing this class for about 28 years, so they have developed a great structure that has been tested and seems to work well. I can immediately see why I am in this course and how it is going to help our strategy for Ethiopia.
Most Interesting of the Day
African spirituality does not have the concept of ‘the fall of man’ in it. The idea of sin breaking the world and influencing God is not a natural concept nor easily communicated. They see the world as paradise. They believe God created it, and very few Africans are polytheists.
Tour of the City
We went on a general city tour to help orient us to the major locations around town. We saw the slums, the nice areas, the workshops that churn out the crafts, but the most interesting discussion was about polygamy. One of our guides is from a polygamist family. We talked about it for near an hour. One of his critiques of Western culture is that we believe in polygamy, but are not honest enough to say it. He says that many of our leaders have affairs, keep mistresses, and that many of our people divorce and remarry and that in effect we have serial polygamy.
The new bus schedule
They decided in the day to hire a bus to collect all of us and bring us to Tangaza! They will pick me up at 7:45am and should get me to class by 8:30am. This should make life easier. The driver took us home so that he could know where to pick us up.
Evenings at Flora
My desk is filled with work. I started by doing my homework reading and assignments for class (though it is not due until next Wed.). I took a nap of about 30 minutes with my head upon my desk (a skill I learned in Seminary). I still have to type it up, but it is finished. Then I started sorting my Henri Nouwen cards.
I have over 3000 note cards that I made during my dissertation. I began sorting through each of them and began grouping them into coherent piles. They will serve as the backbone for the devotional book I am trying to put together. As I slog through them the enormity of this task gets overwhelming, but I remember lessons learned while in the doctoral program, “Sit five more minutes and work.” I kept doing that until time for dinner.
I met my friend from this morning and we had a great time. One is here because it is next to a great hospital. Today they found that his leg infection is from a drug resistant bacteria and they figured out a drug to treat him. He was so happy. I think he might be Serbian, but it is hard to tell. Then I was quizzed by several about what I was doing and why. I tried to explain it, I think they eventually understood. Then our new table partner asked, “Are you from the South?”
“Yes, Texas and You?”
“Alabama.”
“Really? And what are you doing here?”
“I am on a Fulbright Scholarship studying the history of the colonization of Kenya.”
We had a great talk about the effects of the Western mindset in feeling superior to Africans during the period of colonization in the 1800s. He is a history student. He is staying here because he contracted Hepatitis in the field and was in the hospital for 4 weeks. His wife and son are here with him. His Fulbright has been extended a year because he has lost so much time to the unrest in Kenya and this illness. He is going to stay until September 2009.
Late Night
After dinner I studied for about an hour. Exercised by walking around the compound for about 20 minutes, then returned to studying until about 10:00. I started reading the book Grand Bob (My Father-in-law) gave to me. I could not put it down. Read till late. Watched the end of a movie on the laptop and finally fell asleep. Still not tired at night.
Mind the Gap
Kyle
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