ni joto sana

What’s this? Two posts so close together? Clearly the apocalypse must be coming! (it isn’t, I’m pretty sure, but I AM going home in a week and a half, so…)

---

The last stretch of the walk through Runda from my house to the matatu stage

Summer in Nairobi… it’s hot.

You’d think that, as a born and bred Kentuckian, used to summers of 90+ degree weather, I wouldn’t be overwhelmed by Nairobi’s temperatures, which rarely go above the 85F mark.

But the fact of the matter is, Nairobi has an elevation of more than 5,000 feet. It’s interesting, living in a relatively high-altitude location: shade really makes a difference, due to the thinner atmosphere. I’ll be walking from my home to my matatu stop, sweating up a storm on the completely cover-lacking section where a flyover is slowly being constructed, then pass under the jacaranda trees immediately past the second Runda Mimosa gate, and feel almost cold. Well, comparatively. Those of you in the middle of your Arctic winters would probably find it gloriously hot ;).

At New Life Home Trust, my ICRP site, the babies (the ones over 9 months of age, that is) spend at least an hour playing outside every day while I’m there, between morning snacktime and lunchtime. It’s wonderful – the sun dapples through the leaves of the trees and bushes on the property, just enough that, though I’m generally sweating, it’s actually the kind of sweat that cools you off successfully.

One thing about the summer is the smells. Nairobi in general is full of them, ranging from gross B.O. (you get used to that) to the amazing smell of something doughy freshly deep-fried (or the questionable smell of dozens of Kenyan-fried whole chickens sitting in the windows of chips-and-chicken fry places)  to everything in between. But in the summer, it elevates. The walk from the matatu stop at YaYa Center to my ICRP goes through an area that serves as an informal dump and informal car repair place (with lots of informal food kiosks and lots of men who like to hail me right before they start to pee on the walls), and it’s just… I’ve come to learn that the smells of rotting fruit aren’t gross, they’re just differently rich. I know where to hold my breath for the urine stench (thankfully, there are only three places in the entire city where I’ve encountered this) and where to breathe deeply for the flowering trees. I’ve always had a very sensitive nose, so smells have always been intriguing to me. Being in Kenya… it’s like a party for my nose. I’ve learned to embrace less-than pleasant smells, because they all tell a story. The matatu I was in the other day smelled like rotting bananas (kind of gross). On my walk home today, I came across some frangipani, which is possibly my favorite scent in the entire world (note: if you think you know the smell from the Plumeria scents at Bath and Body Works (plumeria is another name for frangipani), you have another think coming). A little while ago, I was completely taken aback by another favorite smell, one I hadn’t experienced since summer in the states: fresh-cut grass.

I guess that’s something I’ll really miss about Kenya – not only are the colors so much more vibrant, as I’ve noted before, and the fruits (generally) so much more delicious, not only is the sun so much more potent, but the smells are so much more, too. I hate to say it, guys, but America is pretty bland in comparison.

Here are some of my favorite things about right now:

+ At my ICRP, there is Buddy, who is the most adorable baby in the world. Honestly, if I were emotionally and financially mature enough for a baby, I would probably want to adopt him, even though I’ve never considered adoption before (I still don’t; I fully support it for other people, but some of my experiences with orphanages in Kenya have just reaffirmed my personal reasons not to want to). He just… he reminds me of a duck, actually, which weirdly explains it all to me. He also is learning to hold his own milk cup, and gets really mad when it spills all over him (it’s a sippy cup, but those do still leak). He also pukes a lot. Here, have a picture!

buddy + ducky

+ Also about my ICRP: I AM DONE WITH IT. HUZZAH. 45 hours playing with babies and talking to white people about why they choose to be volunteer tourists, and 15+ pages of analysis, DONE.

+ My walk home. Because the flyover construction in the middle of the walk is exposed to the city, I now have three Runda Estate automobile gates to go through before I get to the gate at my compound (quick lesson: estate = neighborhood. At Runda, there are gates with guards at every entrance to determine whether the people driving in are people who should be driving in. Compound = the housing plot contained within a fence, generally with gates of it own and privately-hired ‘security’ who make sure the people going into a house are the people who should be). Since the first of the second two gates sprang up, when I asked the guard there if I was crazy and it had always been there, or if it was a recent addition, I’ve gotten into the habit of greeting the guards with a habari yako (how are you (singular)), habari zenu (how are you (plural)), or habari za [asubuhi/mchana/jioni] (how is your [morning/afternoon/evening-before-sunset]), and they’ll inevitably respond with a nzuri sana (very good) or salama (peaceful). As time has worn on, however, we’ve started having longer exchanges – they’ll ask if I am going in to university or if I’m just taking a walk, I’ll ask about the music they’re listening to, etc. etc. And the most recent development – one of my favorite developments ever – is yesterday, they started initiating fist bumps. Yeah. I don’t know, I just love being tight with the security. I feel like they get very bored, and they’re very interesting – I once had a decently long conversation with a guard at the gate closest to my house about how he is trying to raise money to finish his degree at night school. So the fist-bumping is completely legit.

+ (this point is dedicated to my human friends Justine and Joie) my lizard friends! There are between two and five lizards (I have difficulty telling them apart, but I know there’s at least one big one and one or two small ones) that chill in my house and like hanging out on the walls of my room. They also like eating mosquitoes, therefore, I like them. Here, have another picture:

the biggest of my lizard friends

+ Flowers, flowers everywhere. Also, I’m a heat mama, so even though the temperatures here are a little bit overwhelming, I’m also enjoying the feeling of baking in the sun 🙂

+ My trip to the rural home last weekend. But that’s going to be the subject for the next post!

Here, have some flowers 😀