I will try not to be too verbose on this blog, but I have tried, with great difficulty, to put these thoughts into words for a long time. I want to give you some impression of what it is like to live here. To some of you this will seem like an exaggeration. I am afraid I can't do justice to our emotions, but here goes. The short version is: tired. Living here makes me tired. For those of you who want more information, read on.
Every time we drive we are almost involved in some sort of accident either with another driver or a pedestrian. The circumstances vary all of the time, but every time we go anywhere we face a situation that could have been really bad. I am constantly on alert: "why is that car parked across the road, are they stuck or am I about to be carjacked? What should I do? Why is that car passing while going up a hill; how did they expect me to see them? Is that donkey cart broken, stopped, or just moving slowly? Why are these people walking down the middle of the highway at night with no road lights?" The list could go on for a long time. Driving anywhere is exhausting.
Grocery shopping is never the same experience twice. "What was it they said we could use instead of sour cream? Lala? Is that the stuff we need to run through cheese cloth?" The stores never have the same items in stock. You can buy something once, and not see it again for months. Some of the labels don't make sense. Sometimes you can't remember what the brand name is. All of the time you are trying to figure out how much something costs, but the exchange rate changes all of the time, so you are always doing math. Tiring.
Communication is of course a challenge. Most people speak English. Not all of the English is recognizable. Familiar words are pronounced so differently that you ask to have them repeated four or five times. The accents can be so strong that you never know what was just said to you, so you smile, say "thank you" and move on more confused than before. Smiling is universal, but it rarely answers specific questions. Kenyans tend to laugh when they are a little stressed or unsure of something. But when they start laughing at you, it makes you feel even more insecure (something they would never intentionally do).
You can drive across town to the closest ATM to get money, only to find out that it is broken. When you ask the Kenyans tell you that someone is coming to fix it, but that doesn't mean anything. They will never tell you "no"; so is someone coming in 15 minutes or 15 days. It is all the same.
Your kids don't like the de-worming medicine. Did they swallow enough, or did they spit out too much? Do we need to drive all the way back to the chemist to get another dose?
You get home after a tiring day, start supper but the power just went out, and the water isn't working. You call a pizza place only to find out the one close to you has decided not to deliver anymore, their other branch will, but only if you call before 3:00 PM (and that is to get it by 7:00 PM). The time is now 4:00 PM - just too late.
There is dust EVERYWHERE. You can't keep it out. Mopping the floors: daily. Washing the walls and windows at least weekly. Toys, clothes, beds, everything gets covered in red dust. Then it rains. No more dust for a couple of days, but the roads are flooded. You can't tell where the ditch is, the pot holes are moving, and everything is now muddy.
Here is the kicker. The people who you usually need to help you cope with life at its craziest are thousands of miles away. No hugs. No smiles. You are missing your support group. The people here, who have been through all of this before tell you, "This is normal, it will pass." You know that is true, but it doesn't make it easier at the moment. Basically, you are going through a grieving process, you eventually hit all of the stages. You know that what you need is to just interact with other people, but that involves getting up and going out of the house - both things take energy; and you just don't feel like you have it.
Then, someone asks "what did you do today?" The answer is: nothing. You waited in line, tried to communicate, didn't have a collision, and still feel like you accomplished nothing.
Don't get the wrong idea. We know that God wants us here, we know that He is good and loves us. We do like it here, we are just tired. And going to bed at 8:30 with your two-year-old and four-year-old makes you feel so old!
hanksgiving on Friday (we don't get Thursday off, but Friday), I am so thankful that I get to be a dad. Much has changed, but the best part of my life has stayed the same: I still live with the best 3 people on the planet. What a gift from God they all are!
