That's so Kenyan

I can’t believe this is my last day in Kijabe. This is such a neat community, and I am sad to leave. For our last day, we woke up early to go on an adventure to Mt. Longonot with Doug Trotter. Mt Longonot, a volcanic crater which last erupted around 1860, is designated as “senile” not “extinct.” You can see steam vents at a few places. We hiked up to the crater rim, passing a few giraffe on the way, and walked the loop around. The views of the Rift Valley were stunning. We had smashed peanut butter sandwiches at the highest point on the ridge. We also had a contest up there to see who had the lowest pulse oximetry reading. Two medical students from Chicago, who just arrived yesterday, clocked in around 91%, but I was 95%. The hike took us at 5 ½ hrs, and I think we may have walked 8-10 miles. We never saw another person for the first 4 ½ hrs of the hike, but there were droves of people heading up as we descended. I preferred hiking up in the cool morning air.

For some reason, all Kenyan national park workers were green camouflage uniforms, resembling the military. Yesterday at the Hell’s Gate gorge, a camouflaged man told us where to park our bikes, where to sit for lunch, and then took us in a small back room to pay for our hike. I thought we were going to get interrogated.

Another interesting thing about Kenyans is their greetings. If you say “hi” to a Kenyan, he very well may respond, “I’m fine” despite not being asked how he is. Other common greetings are hi hi, hi to you, jambo, and habari (hi, how are you). Our guide yesterday just kept saying pole, pole to us, which Matt and Ben thought meant hurry up, but actually means sorry. He said pole a lot when we were walking barefoot on rock shards.

I went to look for sesame seeds at the duka the other day. I have probably never purchased sesame seeds in my life, but wanted to add them to a dish. The man who does the purchasing asked me, “are they submerged in water? Are they pickles?” I wasn’t able find any, but he assured me he would bring some back from Nairobi, as they could be a big hit with the missionaries.

Kenyans also take their tea time very seriously. Every day at 11, everyone stops working to drink tea and have a snack. (I had the Kenyan trifecta of snacks recently - mondazi, samosa, and chapati). The only time in Kenya is tea time. Sometimes you can get roped in to having tea and there is no escape. Yesterday, I went to go quickly meet Tembu’s fiancé Violet, but it turned in to a tea party. Usually, this would have been wonderful, but I was already late to leave for Hell’s Gate. I did have a good time at tea, but at the expense of getting home an hour late. This didn’t seem to worry the Kenyans whatsoever.

Time for a shower and some blood letting, then dinner at Mama Chiku’s “hotel for delicious foods.” We are off to the Masai Mara tomorrow for our big safari, but I will miss Kijabe town!