I finally had a chance to get out of site… and it was wonderful! For weeks I had been hearing about everyone else’s great weekends meeting up with other people from our training group while I was stuck in the middle of nowhere about a million miles away from anyone. So I convinced my supervisor that since I had been working weekends, she should let me have a Friday and Monday off so that I could use my out of community days (I need a day to travel on either end and I wanted to make the trip worth it). So I bought my bus ticket to Malindi on Thursday and was out of Garissa at dawn the next day. I decided that catching the bus at the bridge would be best since its closer to me and I wouldn’t have to leave as early. I had planned to walk and swear at one point someone assured me it would be fine to walk at 5 since its Ramadan and people would therefore be awake and moving around… not so much. I left my place at 5 and started walking towards the bridge bags and flashlight in hand. I saw two people the other time and am just thankful that it was pretty much a full moon so at least it wasn’t pitch black out. It was taking me longer than I thought it would to walk since I was weighed down by my bags so I was trying to speed walk towards the end of my road. I started hearing wild dogs fighting and was almost too scared to walk but since I was running late I had to keep moving. The entire time I was just thinking of what my dad would say if he could see me walking alone in the pre-dawn darkness along a deserted road, and he would be right. It was crazy. Luckily the dogs just ran along the other side of the road for awhile and disappeared (thank god). As I was getting to the end of my road I saw a bus coming and had to run to catch it. Turns out it wasn’t my bus and I got to the bridge with a few minutes to spare so I chatted with the police officers at the checkpoint until my bus came (sweating of course because even at this god awful time in the morning it still isn’t cold enough for even a sweater). I got on and sat in my seat by the window and after the guard came on to check everyone’s ID we were on our way. It all of a sudden hit me on our way out of town, as the sun was coming up over the desert, that this was my first solo journey in Africa… that was a really good feeling. And it went a long way towards calming my nerves from walking in the dark with dogs and no one around and almost missing my bus. At least my nerves were good until we hit the part of the paved road that has more pot holes than pavement and the bus decided to play leap-frog with the other buses headed to Malindi… this involved speeding up and getting partially off the road to go around the one in front, causing the bus to make an uncomfortably sharp angle to the ground, and then waiting to be passed by the same bus in 5 or 10 minutes. I decided at this point (gripping the seat in front of me so strongly that my knuckles were white) that I didn’t want a window seat next time. I got over that feeling at some point thanks to a combination of my excitement to be seeing friends and being out of site, and my resolution that whatever was going to happen would happen whether or not I was petrified by fear and gripping the seat for my life.
By the time I got to Malindi I was so happy to get off the bus. I had totally forgotten how dirty and gross a 7hr bus ride can make a person feel (no stops to pee, sweaty the whole time, crowded… ugh). The first thing I did was find my friends and eat at a pizza place: real food and CHEESE!!! I changed into my tourist clothes in the bathroom at the restaurant because I couldn’t wait to feel like myself again (short shorts and a tank top… I felt a bit like a prostitute, but the freedom was nice). The second was head to the beach, though we only spent a few minutes standing on the pier. It was amazing seeing the Indian Ocean. More than that, I cant explain how wonderful it was to see my friends again and hear about their sites and organizations.
We spent the first night at another volunteer’s house in Malindi (some people have all the luck). There were 6 of us sleeping on her floor and one person in her bed! We literally took up all the available space. The following day we headed to a small town close by called Watamu (funny cause its also the name of a bean dish here, so we just call it beans now) to a hotel. First, we were all hungry so we scoped out a gellato place that served focaccia bread with mozzarella and tomato (saving the fancier pizza place for dinner). When we had almost finished our breakfast/lunch it started pouring rain so we had gelatto and huddle inside the small shop until the rain passed. By the time we made it through town - we got a little lost a few times but eventually were led to the correct path by some locals - the sun was out and the beach was perfect. Its not very crowded in the cove where we were and the tide was way out so we could walk out to the big rock formations. The local beach boys and hawkers were out and offered to show us the way out to the big rocks for a small price. Mind you, we could see very clearly other people going to the rocks and the path in no way needed to be pointed out. After telling this guy again and again and again that we’d rather just go on our own he finally got the point and left us alone. We set up our spot near one of the big rocks that was currently sandy and went to play in the surf. Katie stayed behind first to watch our things (you never know who is going to come along on these beaches). Next time I looked there were three people spreading out something around her so I went back in. By the time I got there it was a full-blown mini market with clothes and trinkets and wooden carvings… it took us awhile to convince them that we were not tourists and had no intention of buying anything at that time. We spent the rest of the day at an amazing beach (I wish I could put up pictures). I swam in the Indian Ocean and didn’t even mind a bit of seaweed and the occasional fish (I know you’re impressed by my courageousness). Sand at these beaches is so amazing, its white and fine but somehow perfect for sand castles even when mostly dry. We didn’t make one though and I really wish we had.
So, the trip was pretty much magical. I was flying high when I boarded the bus on Monday morning (even though it was leaving at 7:30 and I had been hoping to spend a few relaxing hours at the beach before heading home). That feeling didn’t last very long. Unfortunately the bus was immediately crowded and this time I wasn’t lucky enough to have a window seat so I was on the isle at the end of a three seat row. When the bus left Malindi pretty much all the seats were full, but before long even the isle was starting to fill up and then not much longer before it started to fill past the point you might think possible. People were standing two deep all the way back to the rear of the bus causing most people to be leaning over the actual seats. For example, in my row there was a woman with a baby tied to her front in the entirety of the space above my seat. I had exactly the space required for my body to fill the seat and the air above me was hers. Every so often I would wake up being hit in the face with her baby because of the jostling of the bus over all the bumps in the road. She also had a small girl and boy with her. The boy was seated on the lap of the man next to me and the girl ended up in my lap after almost being trampled in the isle. So I spent 4 cramped, sweaty, breeze-free hours of the ride in what I have come to refer to as “my own personal kind of hell”. Eventually the man moved and we shifted over to give the woman a seat so that I was now in the middle. I dozed off, with the sleeping girl on my lap, and awoke to the sound of the ladies on either side of me yelling something in Somali. Before opening my eyes I became aware that something was touching my face and I couldn’t understand why these women were yelling at me and grabbing my face. But then I opened my eyes to find a shoe against my face. A shoe belonging to the man who was crawling over the seats to get to the front of the bus (since the isle was now too crowded for any realistic movement) who apparently found my head and the seat back indistinguishable. I think that was the low point of the ride… but honestly none of it was much better even though thanks to not much sleep over the weekend I was able to doze for a lot of it.
Being back in Garissa the following week was actually really great. I felt much more willing to engage in conversation and things were going well at work. I guess getting away made me realize that other people are struggling at their sites too, and it just gave me some time to mentally recharge so that things didn’t seem as frustrating as before. I was afraid being away would make coming back worse, but it was totally the opposite, making me much more aware of the good aspects of my new home. About mid-week, while reading through a report on FGM and wondering to myself where my glasses were thanks to a headache I was experiencing, I received a text informing me that my glasses had been left in Malindi. What to do… I mentioned it to my supervisor who suggested that I could have Friday off to go and get them if I wanted. Oddly enough, my first thought was not excitement at all, but dread inspired by flashbacks of the return bus ride. Could I do it again? Obviously I could. You don’t look a gift horse in the face, and I wasn’t about to refuse another trip to the happiest place in Kenya. So that Friday I found myself aboard another bus to Malindi (this time I took a taxi to the bus station). The ride down was better than the first and I spent a very enjoyable weekend with a couple friends. It was very low key and relaxing. The highlight of the weekend, and the thing I least expected to find myself doing anywhere let alone Kenya, was eating a hot dog on the sidewalk outside one of the petrol stations in town. It made us so happy though. And we followed it up with delicious gelatto J This time it was even harder for me to leave. Maybe because it was a shorter trip (I had to come back on Sunday) or maybe because I knew I was in for another 9 hours of hell - somehow the bus ride home takes 9 hours while the one there takes only 7... I don’t get it.
Well, in some ways the ride was better, but in some so much worse. I ended up in the isle seat again, but this time the girl at the window sat with her bags next to her so that her legs were in the next seat, and the girl next to me had her legs in my seat, and I was half way in the isle. I asked her to put her bag up (in polite Swahili) and she wouldn’t even when I explained that I couldn’t sit in my seat she only barely moved it. There was a man standing in the isle by my chair at this time who insisted on hovering over me even though there was no one else near him in the isle and he could have chosen to stand anywhere. I fell asleep, thankfully, but when I woke up I became aware that his crotch was on my shoulder… so unnecessary not to mention inappropriate! So I moved my shoulders to the right into the girl next to me (who was partly in my seat) and my legs still were hanging into the isle. It was a miserable position and the idea of this guy being there made me incredibly crabby. I got fed up with his failure to notice that I was actively avoiding touching him and finally, not kindly, asked that he back up and give me some space. He did and thankfully for the rest of the time he was on the bus his crotch at least did not touch my arm, but when he got off the bus he made a point of getting my attention and saying goodbye. The rest of the ride was much better, though painfully hot and claustrophobic due to the overcrowded bus and our seat not having a functioning window. The road was really bumpy and at one point I had fallen asleep only to wake up flying headfirst into the isle knocking into the two men standing nearest me after hitting a bump in the road that was strong enough to cause my butt to entirely come out of the seat. Luckily the men thought it was more fun than a ride at Disney land and we all had a good laugh. Until the bus broke down. We waited about 15 min before the driver had it fixed and we were off again. Two things that made the trip more enjoyable were a) the most beautiful child was sitting in the seat across the hall and she kept smiling at me and b) at some point a man purchased a chicken which was handed to him through the window at one of the many stops (at one point it was found about 5 rows in front of where he had stashed it and had to be handed back to the owner).
I guess what I’ve learned from all this is that I must really like the ocean if I’m willing to put up with the ride from hell to get there and I will NEVER take the trip two weekends in a row again, I don’t think my nerves could handle it.
Rachel thanks for your great descriptions; we feel like we were along for the ride. You are amazing!!
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