So I was thinking that in this blog rather then talking about the HIV orphans I’ve met, the clothes the children wear here that are literally tattered or just the aching poverty that shames me- I would talk about almost shitting myself in public.
On Saturday I went to the Mulot Market here with Madame Grace, you might have seen a few of the photos. The walk started out nice, the weather was good, I was able to take photos and people were literally staring at me mouth agape.
Interesting fact before I continue, if you are a white Jewish girl with a digital camera in a poor African country people will actually stop what they are doing to stare at you. A few brave ones might even call out “Mzungu” which is the Swahili word for foreigner.
Anyway there I was feeling fine until suddenly the fact hit me like a ton of bricks- I was going to shit myself. Not only that but I was also going to vomit all over myself.
My only guess is that I got a bug from a piece of fruit I didn’t peel all the way or from brushing my teeth with the water too soon but either way I was pretty sure I was going to die as I couldn’t even stand up.
After I told Madame Grace and Madame Patricia about my imminent death they decided the best course of action would be to leave me alone sitting by myself in some shade in the market well they went to get some money. You can only imagine my joy.
As I sat there I knew that I could not under any circumstances get ill in front of these people or for the next six months I would be the white girl who threw up. So I sat there smoked cigarettes and literally smiled until it hurt.
So when Madame Patricia returned and announced we would take a taxi back I could practically feel the relief that would come. Until I saw the taxi.
It was a motorcycle. For the three of us.
Now I don’t know if you have ever ridden on the back of a motor cycle with three other people well ever liquid in your body is trying to escape but let me say it is not a pleasant experience. I would actually say it is quite painful and terrifying particularly because here you are not supposed to hold onto the person in front of you.
So there I was holding onto to dear life by squeezing my legs together hoping trying not to soil myself well riding through the countryside of Kenya.
How is this my real life?
Anyway of course when I returned I ran to the nearest bathroom but I had to wait another hour before I could get to some drugs to stop the pain.
I guess that’s Africa for you.
On the other hand last night I got drunk with two priests so I suppose everything evens itself out.
Love and Miss and Wish you were here all,