a weekend in the life of susan robi {and me}

I mentioned in a previous post that too much free time is generally a bad thing here. Granted, my little library has been given its due attention and I am loving Spanish and Latin American authors right now {shout out to Roberto Bolaño and Márquez!}. Anyhow, as the hours creep by on Fridays, I start to literally feel an uncomfortable bodily anxiety: “O no! O no! O no! There is no way I can last to December; therefore there is also no way I can last until Sunday.” Really, that’s just silly logic. Thankfully, with a help of a hint delicately dropped by Wanjohi {Steve, or beer in Swahili} as our new fuel-efficient stoves were finally fired up on Friday afternoon, Susan invited me to spend the weekend with her in town proper.

Prior to the first stop, during our journey: I decided on a new adventure, much to my mother’s fear and Susan’s insistence that I am crazy. I desperately want to ride a boda boda, a bicycle taxi {literally, me sitting on a cushion on the back of a single-person bicycle}. Granted, they do not look remotely safe and the drivers have the tendency to ignore cars, but I think a short trip down a less-traveled road with Gideon following by car, video camera recording would be awesome. First stop: Mary’s cyber cafe, my new second home here. Nothing beats slow Internet and an ice-cold bottle of Krest Bitter Lemon served up by little Andrew on a Friday! Mary later carried me to the Merica Hotel to meet Susan, who had snuck away to “pick up something across town” (i.e. clean up her apartment). After lunching at Midlands Hotel the previous weekend, the havens of luxury in Nakuru are puzzling, juxtaposed with such harsh environments and realities. Inside: you might as well be in Hawaii—a light breeze, open verandas, mood lighting, tantalizing fresh fruit, and a well-dressed crowd. A few sodas and chicken skewers later, Susan and I called it a night in favor of television…which I have not done in a long time. On our docket: Hell’s Kitchen and Kelly Rippa’s shame, Hope & Faith.

Saturday was a whirlwind, and Sunday was not. Susan and I headed to lunch at an Ethiopian restaurant where I ate a curried chicken…with my hands…because that is how you do it…on top of a fermented crepe made out of rice? Round two was at Gilani’s supermarket/restaurant where the item of choice was chocolate ice cream that placated this insane heat, momentarily. Joined by Angela and Ben, we meandered to the Graceland Hotel in the upper class area of town. I downed a few {more} sodas and some peanuts while intensely people-watching and discussing the merits of Biggie versus 2 Pac with Ben. Our final hop was to Taidy’s where we were hoping to catch one of the big match-ups of the EPL after hearing that Man U was again beaten earlier in the day...but to no avail. Susan and I settled for a seat on the veranda away from the televisions and pool tables for rotisserie chicken rivaling Boston Market and bhajias {potatoes roasted in Indian spices}. Sunday we were lazy: church service in the morning, television all afternoon long.

Yeah, so in review, this sounds like I do little more than eat all the time. : )

I had a warm feeling returning to school on Monday morning, uniquely refreshed after seeing people and places beyond my security block of the school compound. I smiled as I helped Zachariah carry a few {thankfully empty} water jugs up the hill at the end of his day, my usual bathroom break. Random, awe-inspiring fact: women and small children carry 20-liter drums of water {that’s ten 2-liter Sprite bottles, guys} strapped across their foreheads and balanced on their backs. That’s just nuts. Anyhow, another smile appeared as Boniface hiked arm to shoulder with a new friend and fellow orphan, John, and he even returned a smile with a wave. My little guy has come so far! And then I realized there was a spider hanging out on the toilet paper roll…after I had sat down…and was doing my thing.

That’s my life.

How was your first weekend of spring?

Love to you,

tnick