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Alright, so I sometimes I think am mad and other times I confirm it. I was supposed to wake up to work out with my house mate; but alas the sweet sounds of raindrops hitting my window lullaby-ed me back into sweet slumber.
Then my dream started… I was heading out of the house to get into the car and go to work. But when I came out shock on me the car wasn’t where I left it. Instead there was a big red sleek looking saloon car that had parked on top of it. Yes, on top of my sweet baby. Now since my car is a bit small it seemed to have fitted snuggly into the chassis of the other car. I was confused and furious. I reported it to the watchman who smiled and told me that the owner of the car came home drunk. I stomped my way to the car and found the owner of the other car smiling sheepishly at me and proceeded to remove insurance claim forms for me to fill. Soon there was a crowd around us (very Kenyan); guys saying it was my fault for parking in his spot (oh we have a parking deficit at our apartments so sometimes it’s first-come-first-serve situation!) and others there just to gather the story before telling it to the next person who came along (another Kenyan trait).
Anyway, I got tired of filling forms and decided to just get his car off mine and see what the damage was. Took a while but as everyone chipped in (you know how Kenyans love to help) we removed his car and there was my baby. But wait… my car is light baby blue… the one that was there was white with different number plates… oops! So it was my turn to smile sheepishly as I proceeded to look for my car. I found it parked two cars down, entered and drove off. But instead of going to work as I had planned before I ended up at a friend’s wedding that had happened two weeks ago… :0/
So I told my workmate about the dream and he thinks it’s about me wanting something bigger… like a home, life or family; either that or it could be that I had a lot of chili in my dinner… where do people come up with these things? Anyway, I’m re-reading The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho (the book that I was reading when I started blogging). Wow I’ve been blogging for nearly two years! Imagine that. Anyway, the book is about realizing your true destiny however long it takes… I just want a new car this year…. might that be the interpretation of the dream?
I established a while back that I have the knack of collecting junk otherwise known as a Compulsive Disorder in Hoarding. It is characterized by a person(s) insisting on keeping something(s) that is/are clearly unnecessary with the conviction that they might need it later, even though later could be 20 years down the line. Therefore, once in a while I force myself to clean up my wallet, wardrobe, room, office desk, email archives, address book or my blog… I do this so as to clear my thoughts/mind; since I also found that the state of my surroundings is a clear indication on the state of my mind. Currently my dressing table is a mess and my Blogroll is cluttered with links that I’ve not gone to in a while and some don’t mean much to me anymore… So the question is to clean it up or not?
“The opposite of a correct statement is a false statement.
But the opposite of a profound truth may well be
another profound truth.”
~Niels Bohr~
They drummed “plagiarism” into us in campus to the extent that I thought the consequence of such an act was similar to the brimstone & sulfur so passionately promised to sinners in hell. I’m not saying that it’s what has happened here but suddenly I’m appreciating the power of the Internet and of accrediting anything you put up on your blog. Ok if you don’t know where I’m going with this, it’s simple. I got an email recently that tickled my ribs and whilst in that pain I managed to put it up on my blog so as to share. The mail came with the credit to Mark Thairu but no sooner had I put it up the true writer surfaced. So I don’t know if it was a mistake or not but here on my blog I’m out to support my fellow bloggers. So it’s official that A KENYAN’S GUIDE TO KENYA, Vol. I can be found in its original post by KC in her blog How Did I Get here? Meanwhile, while we are at it where is Vol II?????
I’m having one of those days where nothing seems to want to gel with anything else… I’m glueless….
by KC
Blogger – www.howdidigethere-kenyanchick.blogspot.com
I’ve often been terribly disappointed by the tourist guidebooks written about Kenya. Most of the time they tell you stuff you already know, like “you can go on safari and see some lions.” That’s probably why you wanted to come here in the first place, so that’s not helpful. Other times they give you all manner of useless information. For example: what’s the point of telling you how to ask for directions in Kiswahili if you’re not going to understand the answer? (Sometimes they seem to be written by a malicious Kenyan who hates tourists. One time I was lying on the beach and was accosted by an earnest American who said, “Jambo. Nyinyi muna kula viazi?” First of all, no Kenyan says “Jambo.” Secondly, I was lying on the beach, I was alone and I definitely wasn’t eating
potatoes.)
These books never tell you about all the amazing people you can meet in Kenya, or how to understand what they’re saying. Determined to correct this horrible wrong, I’m issuing the first of many useful, practical tips for our many visitors. Herewith Volume I of “A Kenyan’s guide to Kenya.” (Disclaimer: this is written from a Nairobi perspective. Other parts of the country are a whole other story and will cost you extra.)
Here’s what you should know:
When we want you to pass us something – the salt, say – we’ll point with our mouths. Example: We’ll catch your eye then say, “Nani.” Then we’ll use our mouths to point at the desired object. This is achieved by a slight upward nod followed by an abrupt thrusting out of the lower lip, which is pointed in the object’s general direction. There’s no explanation for this. (“Nani” can be roughly translated as, oh I don’t know, “Whats-your-face,” “You,” or “Thingie.” We’re unfailingly polite.)
Frequently, and for no reason whatsoever, we’ll refer to a person as
“another guy.” However, this MUST be pronounced/slurred thus: An-aa guy. This also applies to “the other day,” which is when some momentous event in our lives always took place. We do the same thing with Kiswahili words like ‘bwana’, which is pronounced ‘bana.’
Example: “I was driving in town the aaa day and this guy comes from nowhere and cuts me off, bana. Man I abused him!” ‘Abused’ in this sentence must be drawn out and emphasised for maximum effect: a-BUSE-d.
We claim to speak English and Kiswahili, which technically means that we should be able to communicate with the English-speaking world and Tanzania. What we really mean is that if you’re not Kenyan you won’t understand a damn word we say or why we say it.
Example: “Sasa” in Kiswahili means “now.” We use it as a greeting.
Correct usage: “Sasa?” “Ah, fit.” It confuses us that Tanzanians don’t
understand this.
We also, just as randomly, might greet you by saying, “Otherwise?”
Common response: “Uh-uh.” There is no explanation for this.
Kenyans are multi-lingual, but all this means is that we believe that if we translate something word for word from one language to another it will make sense. A Kenyan might say, for example, “You mean you’re not brothers? But you look each other!” Be kind, they just think that muna fanana can slip into English unfiltered. Speaking of filters, that’s why some people (tribe/ethnicity withheld to protect my uncles) will claim to ‘drink’ cigarettes. If you’re not Kenyan you won’t understand this. Let it go.
We can buy beers at police stations. Grilled meat too. Heck, in some cop shops you can even play darts. I am NOT making this up. Example: “Man the aaa day I pitiad (pass through) the Spring Valley cop station after work. I was leaving there at midnight, bana. I was so wasted! I told those cops to just let me go home.”
Oh, that’s another thing: when we’re leaving a place (your house, a wedding, the cop shop bar) we tend to say, “Ok, me let me go.” We’re not implying that you’re holding us against our will; we’re just saying that we’d like to go. (The plural is, of course, “Us let us go.”)
When Kenyans say that you’re mad, it’s a profound compliment. “Man this guy is mad. You know what he did.” then they’ll go on to recount some of your admirable exploits. It’s high praise. Smile modestly and accept it. By modest I mean look down, draw a circle in the dust with the toe of
your shoe (or just your toe) and then smile, draw your mouth down into a brief frown, and smile again. Alternate quickly a few times. This is known by English-speaking Kikuyus as The Nyira Smile, or The Sneering Smile. Then say “aah, me?” in a high, sing-songy voice. However, only do this if you’re female.
On the other hand, if Kenyans ask, “are you normal? (Sometimes
pronounced “nomo”), then they’re getting a bit concerned about your state of mental health. Reassure them by buying another round.
Which brings me to Alcohol. Our national pastime. You know that myth about Eskimos having thousands of word for ’snow?’ Well, our beloved drinks are known by a thousand names and phrases too. Kenyans will ‘catch pints (or just ‘catch’),’ ‘go for a swallow,’ have a ‘jweeze,’ ‘keroro,’ ‘kanywaji,’ ‘jawawa.’ really, no list can be exhaustive. Be aware, though, that the words you use will immediately tip off your audience about your age. (For the Kenyans reading this, no I was NOT born during the Emergency, you swine.)
Our other pastime is religion. (What contradiction? ) If you’re broke on a Sunday – and your hangover is not too bad – stroll over to one of our parks and catch some open-air preaching. Jeevanjee Gardens in town is a prime location. There you will see us in our full multi-lingual, spiritual splendour. There is always, and I mean always, a freelance preacher thundering in English while his loyal and enthusiastic sidekick translates into Kiswahili.
Sample:
Preacher: And then Jesus said.
Sidekick: Alafu Yesu akasema.
Preacher: Heal!
Sidekick: Pona!
Preacher: HEAL!
Sidekick: PONA!
It’s hypnotic. We suggest you go with a Kenyan who understands both languages because sometimes the sidekick nurses higher ambitions and, instead of translating, tries to sneak in his own parallel sermon. If you’re bored in Kenya it’s because you’re dead.
As you’ve probably figured out, we like abbreviating things. (Why would the word ‘another’ have to be any shorter than it is? Why would the Kenyans reading this find it odd that I keep talking about ‘Kiswahili?’) This can lead to unnecessary confusion. But by now you should have figured out that when you’re catching and someone says, “Si you throw an-aa ra-o?” they of course want you to buy another round of drinks. Don’t worry about the ’si;’ like so many words in Swa it’s impossible to translate. Embrace it, sprinkle it liberally in your speech and move on. There are several such words, which will be tackled in Volume II.
Coming up in Volume II: why you shouldn’t try to understand sheng (and please dear God don’t try to speak it), why your strange ideas about forming queues won’t work here, and why Nairobians love pornographic chicken. Contains a glossary of untranslatable but essential Swa words (like ‘ebu,’ ‘ati,’ ‘kumbe’ and ‘kwani’).
That’s how I was feeling yesterday. Just seemed to be insync with everything around me; from the moment I woke up, came to work early, did my emails and cleared my desk of the brief-wreck that had occurred last week. I then left at 5 to 5pm… got to class on time despite the heavy rain and traffic. Yes, la-di-da…
I have this knack however, of preparing myself for impending pain or distress of any sort. So last Friday I kept away from a certain someone to make myself pre-feel the pain of missing them as they will be gone for three weeks. I don’t know, is that normal? Intentionally causing myself pain in preparation of more pain to come? I realize I do that a lot, esp. when I would come home for holidays and knew that leaving would be the hardest thing so I would leave in my mind. By the time the good byes were being said I was a million miles away in my head.
Speaking of which I think I need to have it checked – my head I mean – see if the marbles are running as they should if not at all. Anyway, I don’t know if my little strategy worked… the impending sense of loss or abandonment looms – and I know it’s neither of those but it’s just the way my insides function. Which scares me cause after watching Notes on a Scandal (2006) it’s clear insanity comes quietly and swiftly. Hence my current mail signature:
Sometimes the appropriate response to reality is to go insane.
~ Philip K. Dick ~
I have a knack for surfing the net and finding the most (both) relevant and irrelevant information known to man – like Snail Rearing…
But after doing a blog run (as I do every morning) I’m sad to find the following:
• lack of any recent updates
• non starters
• people moving on and or closing down their blogs
• worst still – I know people who SHOULD have a blog as we speak but don’t; and yes if you think I’m talking about you then I am…
I know I’ve not be the best example of updated blogs but I try. Worse still I get inspiration from fellow bloggers… that is fast running out. C’mmon people!!!!
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