Tag Archives: storm

When the rain washes you clear, you will know!

24 Dec

I dont think people can understand this statement until they understand it. Makes sense? Think about it!

Stress in the office. Tension with workmates. Weeks of work and results not in sight. My 23 December 2009 office-ially ended at 4pm with turning the key after a two-hour chat with my colleague in nigeria discussing the ups and downs of leadership. Now leaving campus to pick my christmas present at the post office and be home at six.

At least so I thought.

Nairobi is not much different from Frankfurt on a 23rd of December. P E O P L E everywhere.

I only reach halfway through town when the strongest thunderstorm of the year started. A full hour I share square meters of pavement with around 50 people and their last minute shopping. We are staring on roads that fill 15 cm high with water, cars that stop moving and busses that block the junctions. We start talking about politics, travelling, christmas, family. And finally I answer the question what I am doing in Kenya. Wow. The old sir next to me went to egypt on exchange through AIESEC in 1975!

We exchange numbers, I move on to the supermarket.

Dripping wet I search for some groceries then go to the matatu stop. Where there are no mats but a 3 or even 4 digit amount of people waiting for the same. In the next two hours I get to know the lady next to me, we nearly get friends. One fourteen-seater-vehicle after the other comes announcing three times the usual price (Githurai! Mia hamsini!) and still people fight to enter. By now its dark and as expected the rain has caused a power cut in town. From all sides I am told how well integrated I am into Kenya.
Notice: Waiting for a ridiculously organized transport system makes
you attractive.

More and more busses come, the waiting crowd gets less.
At eight my bro and mum call, I direct then to where the mats are.
During my year in kenya you have already sensed that they are not always found on one spot.

I get on a bus with the lady and just when we leave, daniel and mum arrive. I figure they would get on the next bus and i see them at home. My bus decides to take the most crowded road in town and it takes me 2 more hours to arrive at home. In fact dani calls me from home while we are still stuck in town. Crazy. Our driver took the wrong road… People are exhausted and falling asleep on their seats, their phones on their laps.
I think I should be the first white thief in nairobi and get rich (people say i wud rather die trying).

Instead I facebook half the way, read Germans complaining about the train being late for 45 minutes and Kenyans discussing the weather. (“God blessed us… In an unusual manner”) and its results in nine months.

When I get off the bus, my jeans have dried, my mind is relaxed and I am in christmas mood. But my present is still in the post office.

Six hours for 15km distance. Stories for a whole week.

These days only happen down here.

At least so I think.