Finally my arrival was marked by rain, a pattern that would
follow the rest of the year which would either be wet and/or rainy and in
better days windy. At the airport to meet me were a lovely lady and a fellow
Kenyan all whom I had never met before, apart from few correspondences. We
exchanged greetings and headed to where it was to become home for me.
It was at the beginning of autumn when a substance called
chlorophyll that makes leaves green start to fade away which marks the third
season of the calendar year in the northern hemisphere. It is indeed a
beautiful season when the green colour of summer gives way to the yellow, red
and eventually brown. Seated at the back
of the car my tiredness coupled with apprehension of what was to come made me
pay no much attention to the conversations that were going round in the car. I
just sat down, closed my hands and enjoyed the view outside as I got chauffeured
home!
I vividly remember my first night. We sat down round a table
for a meal. Across the table sat an American who shot questions to me one after
another. “So, Gerald do you like
potatoes?” he asked. I don't know what to say to an American who seems to be my
age and trying to grow a moustache with sad ginger hair. I want to be bold like
an American and tell him that potatoes are not my liking but I can’t. Around
the table are many locals and I had already gathered that answering no would
not only offend them but many more within a radius of 100miles. Choosing my words carefully I told him that
where I come from we don’t have a lot of potatoes.
Later that night the whole community met round a fire to get
to know each other and more so pray that the Lord of mercy would lead us
through. My skin was feeling dry and full of goose bumps as the cold started to
hit hard. Wrapped in my red Maasai shuka I joined the fire camp too. I could tell from
the looks of my new found friends that they were sympathising with me because
winter was not in yet.
October sun would then offer light and warmth that made me
feel good as I walked in a nearby park. It is the kind of season when wind
blowing and rustling leaves causes a relaxing sound. This lovely sound effect
is further enhanced by the sound of leaves crunching under one’s feet. The
gentle breeze made the weather seem perfect and refreshing as i soaked in nature’s
abundance. It offered a serene
environment to silently reflect on God’s faithfulness and majesty.
The season I was told would only last for few weeks and
there would be no more leaves anywhere. Back in Gaturi where I grew up I only
knew about two season- rainy and sunny seasons. What a shock!
Kenyans have many fine attributes to recommend them for.
Their hospitality is charming, their sense of humour is keen and their history
is virtually unprecedented depending on who you talk to anyway. But punctuality
is not a cultural virtue. Our priority
is one of context over process which makes it difficult for people to abruptly
end conversations in mid-stream when the clock strikes the hour.
Take for example what might seem like a quick easy task to
do- buying a bus ticket to Mombasa on
Kirinyaga road in Nairobi. After standing on the queue for what seems like
eternity, you finally reach the partly glass partly mesh wire window and
observe the guy manning the counter get up and walk away to return with a cup
of sweet tea and a mahamri . It is
pretty obvious that they have no scruples about chewing and slurping while
serving the customer. In any case how is that going to affect selling tickets!
Local shops offer almost a similar sort of experience. You
are at home and you start experiencing signs of malaria to which you decide to
walk to the nearest chemist cum grocery to buy some medicine. On arrival you
are met by a guy idling about waiting for someone to sell his assorted
merchandise to.
On enquiring he tells you that the shopkeeper is out to get
some food but will be back soon. An hour later he comes back with a plate of
chapatti and beans. As if that was not enough, he tells you that he has no
medicine because the delivery guy has not turned up for the last couple of days
and it is not known when that will happen.
As one not used to monochronic time, it was frustrating, but
it does not take long to slip into gentle flow.
However I still do miss the reality that time is a gift to be relished.
It might not move quickly but it’s fast enough. If something doesn’t get done,
there will always a tomorrow or another day. And even if that doesn’t happen
well and good and who knows-may be it was never meant to be…..
