From the airport to the choo

June 12, 2010


Since last year's Kenya travel log begin with a bathroom story, I think I will stick with tradition and give you another one. In case you don't already know, construction of the Sam's Place dormitory is almost complete. It lacks only a few finishing touches. So, I asked Vernon if I could camp out at Sam's Place this year instead of staying at the guest house in town. Since there aren't any children here at the orphanage yet, I pretty much get the whole place to myself. Our two Kenyan matatu drivers are sleeping here as well, and we also have the night watchman (a big guy with a machete) out at the gate house, but other than them it's pretty empty.

Anyway, one of the finishing touches Sam's Place still lacks is indoor plumbing, so that means sponge baths instead of showers as well as an occasional trip to the choo when nature calls. A choo (pronounced cho) is just an outhouse, and Sam's Place has four of them on the edge of the property. The first time I used the choo in the middle of the night at Sam's Place, I happened to get a cell phone call from Katherine while I was out there. This was a bit awkward, but that wasn't the bathroom story I wanted to tell.

Tonight, June 14, my third evening at Sam's Place, the drivers (Joseph and Daniel) and I arrived at Sam's Place for our night stay just as the heavens opened in a torrential downpour. We ran through the rain and mud to get inside, but once I set my stuff down and started getting ready for bed, I realized that I really, really needed to use the choo. But it was pouring rain, and I wasn't really interested in driving to Eldoret tomorrow with wet shoes, and I really didn't want to get my clothes wet either because it's laundry time, and I'm down to my last change. Also, with no electricity for miles and with even the stars covered by the storm clouds, it's black as pitch outside.

So, I did what any sensible person would do. I stripped down to my underwear, grabbed my flashlight, and walked barefoot to the choo through the storm. Normally, I might be a bit grossed out by walking through a cow pasture barefoot (yes, they graze cattle on the Sam's Place land), but that was kind of overshadowed by the thought of using the choo in my bare feet. But after considering all of my other clever options for using the bathroom without going to the choo, going to the choo barefoot was by far the least gross option available. And, actually, it turned out to not be that bad. The walk through the mud and the rain was kind of refreshing, and it was really nice knowing that no matter how dirty I got in the choo, I was going to get to run back through the cleansing rain again and wash all the grime away. (Wow, that sounds like a sermon intro, but I'll spare you.)

Okay, so now that you've heard my bathroom story, let me back up a bit and bring you up to speed with everything else that has been going on since I landed in Kenya.

My Kenya Airlines flight landed in Nairobi at about 7:30 am on Saturday, June 12. I didn't get any real sleep on the flight, and since I didn't get any sleep on the previous night's flight either, by the time I landed in Kenya I had been awake for two and a half days.

Larry Conway was waiting for me at the airport for two reasons: 1) to help me get started on my land journey to Sam's Place, and 2) to pick up his luggage that I brought with me on the plane. Unfortunately, his luggage didn't land in Nairobi with me, and when one of his bags finally arrived yesterday, he found that everything inside it was covered in Picante Sauce. Oops.

But in spite of losing his luggage, Larry was still gracious enough to help me on my way. My travel plan to Sam's Place consisted of catching a public matatu to Kisii (a town near Sam's Place), and then having someone on our mission team come pick me up when I arrived in Kisii. A matatu is an eleven passenger van that seats 26 when you remove the bourgeois restrictions that 1) all bodies must be completely inside the vehicle at all times and 2) no passenger is sitting in another's lap. So, I got the opportunity to get very close to some Kenyans on the trip to Kisii. The trip itself, though, was rather uneventful. The only thing worth mentioning is that, midway on our journey, the driver rather suddenly pulled over to the side of the road and all of the Kenyans jumped out and scrambled off in different directions. It looked like an INS raid on a van full of illegal immigrants, and I just kind of stood by the matatu dumbfounded, wondering if I was going to be the only one left to answer the police when they showed up for the drug bust. After a bit more observation, though, I noticed that all of the men were just kind of staring off into space with their backs to the road, and then it hit me: this is a pee break. But by the time I figured it out, it was already time to get back on the matatu, so I just had to hold it the rest of the way.

Once the matatu arrived in Kisii, I decided to to just catch another matatu to Rongo instead of having someone drive to Kisii and pick me up. Sam's Place is located just outside of Rongo along the road to Kisii, and I was planning to ask the driver to just drop me off on the side of the road when we got to the turnoff to Sam's Place. One of the good buddies I had made on the first matatu ride was kind enough to help me make the transition to another matatu heading to Rongo, for which I was very grateful. Unfortunately, I had been a bit spoiled on my first matatu.

See, the way Larry Conway had helped me catch the first matatu out of Nairobi was by sending a trusted Kenyan friend of his, Kizito, to help me get a good matatu at a good price, and Kizito was able to put me on a matatu driven by a friend of his from church, so I kind of got special treatment. Unfortunately, there arose in Kisii a matatu driver who knew not Kizito, and as we approached the bright blue Sam's Place on the way to Rongo, and as I waved and signaled “This is where I get off. Can you let me off here please?” he just glared at me and kept on driving. So, as I watched the Sam's Place sign disappearing in the rear-view mirror, I sat (which is the only thing you can do in a matatu) and considered my options. Fortunately, Sam's Place is only 2 km from the drop-off point in Rongo, so I decided it wouldn't be bad to just walk, and it might even be kind of nice to get to move around a bit after the long cramped rides.

Well, when I “alighted” in Rongo, there was a man sitting on a motorbike (called a piki-piki) who looked like he would just love to give me a ride. So, I asked him how much it would cost to take me 2 km on the back of his motorbike, and he said 20 shillings. But the smallest bill I had was a 200, and they certainly don't make change, so I just let him keep it, and he was very happy. So, I and my backpack and all of my cash and all of my worldly possessions in Kenya, jumped on the back of this stranger's motorbike, and off we went to Sam's Place with my arms around his waist. He drove fairly slowly and he even took me all the way to the gate, so I didn't have to walk down the long dirt road to Sam's Place. Once there he made sure I knew his name and contact information in case I needed any more motorbike rides for 10 times the normal fare.

Then I banged on the big metal Sam's Place gate, and Stephen Greek came to let me in, and I was among wazungu once again. Stephen later told me that he had never ridden on a piki-piki in Kenya, and I thought that was really cool that I had gotten to do something that a long-time missionary to Kenya hadn't done yet. So, maybe that was kind of in the back of my mind as I was running to the choo tonight. Yeah, sure Stephen has used a choo thousands of times more than me, but has he ever used a choo barefoot in the rain in his underwear? I'll have to ask him tomorrow.

Lord, take from me the things I think I need to be happy and comfortable, and replace them with the One I need to be joyful and content. Amen.