Traffic, soot. Nairobi. Diverse and beautifully chaotic. Always a challenge to find the best way to work, how to avoid traffic. With no traffic, it takes 15 minutes (that means leaving at 6:30 am and 7 pm). With traffic, a solid hour of dodging bikes, people, cars, buses and matatus. We bought a car, a safari vehicle of sorts. The first day we brought it home, the guard, gardner and house keeper all commented. I felt like a jerk. Here they are working their tail off for a pittance, and we pull in with a large vehicle. The have and the have nots.The commute is worth it though because at night we return to a quiet oasis. I can go for a 45 minute run. The road is usually lined with people walking to work, men, women, and kids. As I jog by and greet them with “Jambo,” their face light up with brilliant smiles, “nzuri sana” they say (I am well.). I am starting to recognize people. The adorable old man who rides his bike up the hill around 6:30. The group of African nannies wheeling the European and American kids down the road. The guard who works across the street. The cute kids, loads of them in their sweet little school uniforms walking to and from school. Life. It is vibrant. Lots of people, warm climate, going to and fro. My favorite visitors though are the monkeys—they sprint across the road and leap into people’s yards…usually trailed by a guard who is trying to shoo them away. The other night twenty of them were swinging and jumping on the power lines—having a ball. So, that is why the power always goes out on our street.
I gave our house cleaner an old canvas bag from the Democratic Convention. Red, white and blue. She embraced me in a huge hug and then slung the bag over her shoulder like it was Gucci and strutted away with great pride and an enormous grin.
