Although we were blessed to spend our first day relaxing at a backpackers’ hostel in Nairobi, the first six weeks of our trip are to be spent in Busia, Kenya, a moderately-sized town on Kenya’s western border. Thus it happened that we woke around 5 AM in order to make our bus to Busia.
Though we’re only a few days into the trip, we’re already learning to keep our expectations relatively simple to avoid being disappointed. (That is not to say that Kenya has failed to please: all I mean is that some of the team members share a moderate dislike for rats in their living quarters.) So when we boarded our bus, we were pleased to find that it rivaled an American Greyhound (and I have a little background with Greyhound Lines).
As we got under way, we knew we were in for an 8 or 9-hour ride. We’d heard the roads would be a little bit rough and there would be very few stops. However, I doubt any of us first-timers were prepared for the jolting ride that awaited us.
The roads were mostly paved and the lanes were fairly clearly painted. A local woman later told us that we were using Kenya’s largest highway, so…that was a surprise. We were mainly surprised when the road turned to dirt and four-foot-deep potholes (our driver skillfully dodged…most…of these). The road was packed with cars, the term ‘tailgating’ gains a whole new meaning, and we learned a lot about the maneuverability of 50-foot long buses.
I hope it doesn’t sound as if we didn’t enjoy the ride. It would be impossible to deny that we were actually gripping our seats. For example, I will probably never forget how many vehicles our driver passed. Usually he would cross the equivalent of the solid double yellow lines to pass people. One time, he passed seven vehicles all in one go. Two of those ‘vehicles’ were semi-trucks pulling full loads of gasoline. The entire pass was completed on one very long, blind curve. I really couldn’t tear my eyes off the road for that one.
By the time we arrived at our host home, we were all quite ready for a good rest. One of the first things our hosts told us was how grateful they were that we had come. What a humbling experience! These people are providing time and space for OUR comfort, and yet THEY thank us for coming before we can even get in the house.
I’ve been thinking a lot about humility lately.
Hmmm.
I think I may never complain about a bumpy road again, for starters.
