Life in Kisumu... one-month countdown!

It’s easy to take the day to day for granted and without even realizing it I’ve acclimated to life here in Kisumu. It’s to the point that the little quirks, actually the really strange things I encounter on daily basis, have stopped being cause for alarm or attention. I no longer care that we’re delayed from cows crossing or just lounging in the road and it’s actually part of my daily ritual to sit with my beverage of choice on the veranda waiting for the daily cow migration to pass the house. I love the cows!

Then there’s the burning piles of trash, including mounds of toxic burning plastic and black smoke, noticed but normal. I eat with my hands when I want to and when people say ‘hi’ I yell ‘I’m fine’ before they can ask. I say ‘asante’ instead of thank you and ‘habari’ or ‘mzuri’ when meeting up with friends. ‘sawa sawa’ means it’s all good and I don’t blink when it comes to negotiating prices. It’s funny because in Nairobi a couple weeks ago, waiting for Ar, Christine and I went on bargaining for a taxi from the airport for 15 minutes before we realized, like at home, the airport taxis are a fixed rate. What a rip off!

I have had in total 3 hot showers in the past 3 months, and one semi-warm or just less-than-freezing one on a little staycation a few weeks ago. But now it doesn’t matter—I thought about it this morning since I skipped my morning run to walk and call home instead. I did a bit of yoga but I definitely wasn’t breaking a sweat after the final stretch and jumped in the shower anyway. Freezing cold water but without the shock, I didn’t even lose my breath.

And washing clothes, in a bucket. Sawa sawa.

When I think about the strangest things from the last week, they’re actually quite familiar from home but in this context it’s strange and almost a little uncomfortable now. On Friday we attended a jazz benefit (complete with white linen tables, candles, red wine, and Mexican food) in the back yard of the CDC director’s house.

And the Ritz crackers that mysteriously appeared at Nakumat supermarket--at home I don’t eat Ritz crackers but this morning on the ride out to the field someone brought a package and I devoured the little crunchy morsel of buttery goodness like I hadn’t eaten in days… When is the last time you ate a Ritz?! I also enjoyed a Trader Joe’s granola bar leftover from Ar and Shane’s blow through Kenya and right now I’m listening to a 2-year old podcast of West India Girl on KCRW and it’s dawned on me that the quick trip home and transition to the hospital ship might be tougher than I’d anticipated…

Anyway, we have a month left and it’s time to reflect and write. I’ll attempt to catch up on Life in Kisumu to illustrate that life in the rural west of Kenya is different but it’s not that bad, in fact life is pretty darn good! ...Oh! Here. Come. The. Cows. Right on time…