The matatu ride and Braelyn's photography skills

 http://www.kenyanizer.com/forum/topics/3-riding-matatus

The Kenyan Matatu is a very common mode of transportation here. Most (the one I have a particular experience with) are something like a ford ranger with a covering on the back slightly higher than the cab, benches across both sides and against the back of the cab with a metal door on a hinge at the back. There is a driver and an assistant who collects money, tells the driver when to stop, and so on. They are supposed to hold 14 people which as you can imagine is a bit cozy. I don’t know if that is 14 including the driver and front seat (usually holding 2 or 3 people) or not but I think 14 even just in the back would be reasonable seeing how their “comfort zone” here is dramatically decreased in relation to ours. It is nothing for me to think “I don’t stand this close to my wife when we are talking” when conversing with a friend here.  Anyway, I had heard riding in a matatu is a true Kenyan experience that everyone should experience once in their life. It is the main way people here in Kapsowar travel any distance.

 These are some pictures Braelyn has been taking with our old camera. Please click on this pic of Layna and see the big pic. It is the funnest face.

I am trying to break up my long post with some of her pics. There are about 10 different shoe pictures but this one cracked me up

So after my 2^nd visit to the dentist (see previous post) I had told the driver of the hospital vehicle not to wait on me since I knew they were picking up another doctor who had surgery cases at the hospital that afternoon. I did think it funny how persistent the driver was that they could wait on me and I just kept saying, “oh don’t worry about it, I’ll just take a matatu back”. Even the surgeon insisted he didn’t mind waiting, but I didn’t want to be the hold up and there is this place in Eldoret where you can buy a milkshake…like a real milkshake and I have made it a personal decision to never leave Eldoret without getting a milkshake. So I walked around the city a bit, went to a bookstore looking for some children’s Bibles for the peds ward, then to a place called the baker’s yard where they have fresh baked bread that Sonya really enjoys. I picked up a loaf then I went to the Nakumat (Kenya’s equivalent to Walmart) and bought a few groceries since I was in Eldoret. Had some lunch, then my milkshake. Chocolate chip cookie milkshake…it was as good as it sounds! I walked from there to the matatu stop which is in an alley where they line up and as they fill up with people they leave. It was 115pm and I was on call that night starting at 5 so I went for the 1^st one. I had been told to try to get the front seat but I saw the front seat of the 1^st 3 or 4 were already taken. Some people just sit for hours in the front seat of an empty matatu to reserve it. So a piled in the back and took the seat closest to the door on the passenger side bench. My box of food was “securely" tied to the top and I had a seat next to a guy with the biggest bowl I have ever seen. It was shallow and probably 3 ft in diameter. We will call him “Big Bowl” from here on out. I counted when I got in knowing 14 was the “limit” just like 50kph is the speed limit! I made number 18 granted 1 was a baby in a lap but everyone else was an adult or adult size teenager. I didn’t count the cab passengers since it seemed they were more like first class. It was cozy for sure but hey I am a young healthy (except for my recent 2 tooth abscesses and 2 months of irritating back pain shooting into my leg made worse with sitting, multiple GI bugs the last few months etc.) 32 year old and most of all I was ok because I had a chocolate chip milkshake! I also choose to keep Sonya’s bread on my lap rather than tie it to the top. So 15 min passed. It looked full to me and we were in front so what was the hold up. “Sure wish I knew more Swahili besides ‘how are you doing today’ ‘are you vomiting’ ‘are you eating well’ ‘lets pray’  and ‘praise the Lord’” I thought. People kept coming to the window with suckers, toys, drinks, phone minutes trying to make some last minute sales to the captive matatu audience. 15 min later still sitting. Then 3 more people came to get on. “wait a minute” I thought “ we are maxed out here”. But somehow they managed to squeeze and from the stoic expressions on the Kenyan’s faces (I was the only foreigner) I don’t think anyone minded.  Finally about 200pm we head out on our adventure 21 people deep not counting the assistant hanging on the back. We travel about 200 yards and stop for gas. Another woman approaches and after some unknown discussion she hops in too. Now we are off and really moving. The road from Eldoret to Iten is paved and the matatus take full advantage of paved roads. About 20 min later we get to Iten and to my surprise 3 people get off. “oh that wasn’t bad I thought”. It takes a few minutes to unload their stuff and find where their belongings were stuffed under the benches. So I’m feeling pretty good about my experience so far especially if people keep getting off. But then I wondered “how come every time I see a matatu in Kapsowar returning from Eldoret it is jam packed full of people?”, “Oh this must just be a blessing from God for being obedient to come be a missionary in Kenya and humble enough to take public transportation” I thought proudly. Then it happened, we started to move and it was as if someone yelled “last matatu going to Kapsowar…ever” and about 12 people bull rushed the vehicle and we are already moving. Then one after one people piled in even without a seat just hunched over in the isle (8 inches between the left and right peoples knees) and even more hanging on the back. It was like a movie, a cloud of smoke, people yelling and when the dust cleared there was a lady’s head about 1.5inches from mine.I couldn’t see everyone to count but I was pretty sure we had over 14 people in the back! So the road from Iten to Kapsowar is bumpy, very very bumpy and when it hasn’t rained in a few days it is dusty very very dusty, but defiantly more bumpy than dusty. So literally 3-4 times per second my head is hitting this lady’s head, we will call her "Noggin". Sometime around then I think I repented for my prideful “missionary blessing” thought and understood this was judgment on me for such pride but I did wonder “what did this lady do to deserve to be hitting heads with me?”.  On top of that she kept losing her balance and falling into my bread which I was guarding and holding like a football in the hands of a tailback, both arms folded over it, trying to protect it but not smash it. All the while Big Bowl is totally encroaching into my space and on my left is nothing but rusted steel parts and sharp screws cutting into my thigh, shoulder and arm. 

 outside our house on the way to work

In the kitchen

Now one of the 5 people hanging on the back of the truck is squatting and his knees are like razor blades jabbing into my left lateral thigh. We will call him “Razor Knees”. All the while at least 4 other people which equals 8 other feet are standing and stepping all over my size 13 shoes all the while I keep having shooting pains into my left buttock, hamstring, and calf and causing tingling into my left 4^th and 5^th toes (which was later found to be due to my L5-S1 lumbar disc herniation causing nerve root impingement…I know I just had to make this a little medical) which were being stood on by 8 different feet. Just when I thought this can’t get any worse, a lady who was standing outside pushed her way through the open door making Noggin fall on my bread and now instead of her head it is her right shoulder, the most bony shoulder I have ever felt, giving me my concussion. That’s when it happened. My passive aggressive flesh took over, I gave a bit of a shove and muttered hatefully under my breath “get off my bread”! I proceed to find a place to move my bread since she didn’t seem to be as concerned about its well-being as I was. I looked to the left... just jagged steel, to the right... Big Bowl, in front... Noggin, down and to the left... Razor Knees, finally I slowly lean my head back slightly out the open window holding my breath and closing my eyes due to the loads of dust flying into the air and maneuver the bread between my head and Noggin’s shoulder to the upper outer most area of the matatu and bring my head back in. Yes, I am now holding it in the same position as Rafiki holds Simba in the Lion King when he presents him on the big rock. It was like I was making a bread offering to the Lord with my hands lifted high and my head lowered! At the same time I had inadvertently started playing footsies with all the people standing on my feet trying to get some feeling back into them. 

the Nativity calendar Sonya made a 2 years ago.

Then we stop. The assistant yells something and literally everyone squeezes into the back and then the most ridiculous thing was that they tried and succeeded in closing the door with all of us in there. At some point prior to this I had counted/estimated there were 26 people in the cab and 5 hanging on the back, which was later confirmed when we all had to get out…I’ll get to that. So at this point 31 of us are in the back with the door closed. “yes” the optimist might say, "but there was 1 baby”…true I’ll give you that. We stop and some police officers go to the driver, they talk for a bit and we head on. After about 2 min the other people go back outside to hold on out there. But somehow there didn’t seem to be any more room after they moved out!  Come to find out the police officers are “enforcing” the 14 person limit and it seems that it changed from ‘14 people’ to ‘it doesn’t matter as long as the door is shut and no one is outside’. Occasionally they charge a fee of about $1 to the driver if he is overloaded which is silly because it is only a 3^rd of what it costs to ride for 1 person and obviously we were carrying more than twice as many people.

So we continue and it is about 245pm at this time. Yes, it had only been 25 min since Iten! The road from Iten to Kapsowar is mostly uphill as Kapsowar is around 7,000 ft in elevation, and as we continue, gravity began to show itself strong. Another bad idea about sitting where I sat is that the people just keep bouncing, bouncing, and bouncing away from the cab toward…me. So here I am, dust flying everywhere, bumping all over the place with my head hitting Noggin’s shoulder and Big Bowl holding both sides of his bowl and the left side of which is more than half way across my body, Razor Knees is making me want to go incredible hulk on everyone and my shoulders keep getting closer and closer to each other as the people scoot towards me. I truly thought “If I was a fragile 70 year old lady I would be crushed right now. I wonder how many people have died in the matatu from suffocation?”. I was starting to have a hard time breathing. So I developed a plan I called “operation survive” and every time we would slow down for a “big bump” (which is a very relative term) I would drop my right shoulder and give all 7 people on my side a nice gentle (in my opinion) sturdy and progressive scoot back toward the cab. 

 Abstract art by Braelyn

 Enjoying Tiana book she got for Christmas

 

We soon stop again, all 31 pile in and as we are waiting for the assistant to hit the roof to let the driver know we are ready to go to the police checkpoint it happened. It was something I had been fighting most of the trip but I soon found out I was not the only one trying to not get “matatu sick”. Most of all I did NOT want to lose that milkshake I had enjoyed earlier. As we sat there a younger (12?) boy squatting in the isle spews chunks and what appears to be milk everywhere. We will call him “Chunks”. This was for sure the 1^st time I was thankful to be sitting where I was, as he was to my right and facing forward. So we go through the checkpoint and soon after that we all unload. People are wiping themselves off with leaves and brushing out the back of the truck with brush from the side of the road. I did my part and gave the kid a piece of gum. Next we piled back in and it was amazing how much the aroma of the recently expelled stomach contents made the ride so much worse! I was also upset that Razor Knees decided to squat a little differently so that his knees pierced a new part of my leg! It was 355pm by this time and I thought it wasn’t much longer, but I was a bit hypoxic from holding my breath the last few minutes. So we took off again only to stop about 10 min later and the people on the back got off and started walking. We then drove through the police check point and drove on a mile or so and stopped again, so we all got out again. Evidently, these police were known for being a bit hard core so the people on the back got off, walked about 2 miles through the checkpoint then caught back up with us. In the mean time, we unloaded and Chunks went and washed his face with dried vomit all over it in the nearby stream.

Back into the matatu we go and evidently for some reason I didn’t get the memo we were playing musical chairs and lo and behold guess who is next to me… Chunks. All the sudden I was missing Big Bowl who had somehow snuck up to the roomier cab side of the back. We took off again, I’m sure you get it…dust, bumps, bumps, dust, tetanus prepped steel on my left jabbing into my left side,  Noggin’s alternating shoulder and head jackhammering against mine, protecting my bread, radicular back pain, stomping toes, vomit aroma, Razor Knees trying to dissect each of my quad muscles from each other. I look over at Chunks and he is not looking good at all. I have a confession. I take a man bag with me when I go to Eldoret. Some may call it a purse and yes it is my wife’s but it is mountain hardware and yellow and black…MOSTLY black. That morning I had grabbed a piece of bread or something and stuck it in a small plastic bag. I still had the bag on me in my man bag and handed it over to Chunks. Within 5 min he has it up to his mouth secured with both hands to his lips. Fortunately, I had the bag, unfortunately it was clear, fortunately it did not have holes in it! He filled it half way, which I was impressed with since he had just sprayed about 20 people with what seemed about 2 liters of white nastiness. Then he filled it 2/3 up. Then he took it totally up to the brim. Ah the sovereignty of God to allow me a bag for my bread that was truly just the right size! After removing it from his mouth and trying to seal it with his hands he and the lady next to him (who looked as if she was about to hurl next) grabbed both sides of the bag and strategically and meticulously took the bag over my right shoulder and threw it outside. By this point we had started through the forest which is just about 20 min from Kapsowar. I kept a close eye on Chunks the rest of the way but thankfully it was only burps and dry heaves from him. Finally at 5pm we pull into Kapsowar. I honestly wanted to kiss the ground. Probably half the matatu unloaded there and as I was waiting with bread in hand for my box of groceries Big Bowl said to me, “ Transportation is an issue in Kenya”. I was so surprised he spoke such good English I just nodded my head and wondered why he didn’t talk the entire way while we were sitting next to each other! Then the assistant came up and asked for my 300 shillings ($3.60). I just shook my head and gave it to him…defeated but happy I had made it home!