In Africa, things don’t always go as planned. In fact, it is rare to even have a plan…
Our Mombasa trip didn’t go as planned.
Before we left for Mombasa, the largest city on the coast of Kenya, Fr. Chris told me that it would be a relaxing 6 hour drive. This is not how it happened. On the way to Mombasa, we stopped for a free lunch at a small Catholic school that was nestled in a rural village. To get to this rural village, we had to drive for thirty minutes on a treacherous dirt/rock/mud road. While the lunch at the Catholic school was pleasant, the consequence of the side trip wasn’t. On the way back, as we traveled on the treacherous dirt/rock/mud road, one of our tires was punctured and became flat. That was nothing—we simply replaced the flat tire with the spare donut and continued on our route.
When we reached the first mid-sized town, Mtito Adei, Fr. Chris decided to have a mechanic fix the flat tire, so that we would not have to continue driving on the spare. The mechanic told Fr. Chris that the tube inside of the flat tire had been punctured too many times and couldn’t be repaired (this was the mechanic’s first lie). Therefore, he said that he would have to give him a “new” (second lie) tire that was tubeless. Fr. Chris accepted this and told the mechanic to begin (big mistake). As I observed this, I felt a growing need to intervene, but I was cautious since I am a novice at Kenyan argumentation and, to top it off, I am a Mzungu. When the mechanic replaced the flat with the “new” tire, I analyzed the “new” tire and noticed that its tread was more than half worn and there had been a gash in the sidewall that had been melted back together. This gave me my motivation to intervene, so I informed Fr. Chris and the mechanic. This led to a 30-45 minute argument between the mechanic and Fr. Chris. In the end, the mechanic won: not only did he get 2,500 Shillings (which is 5 times as much as the work was worth) but he also kept our flat tire that had full tread and a tube that was by all means fixable.
Forty-five minutes down the road, our “new” tire was flat. This time, we stopped at another mechanic, but we were a little more cautious (I had no reservations about intervening as soon as a problem arose). This time, we paid 150 Shillings and went away with our “new” tire in good working condition.
We left Nairobi at 10:30 A.M., and we arrived in Mombasa at about 10:30 P.M., making our trip more than double the expected time. After this drive, I was exhausted and ready for bed. This is where the fun began. First, Fr. Chris had stated before that we would stay at his cousin’s house, which would mean that our lodging and our food would be free. However, once we arrived, Fr. Chris didn’t know where his cousin lived, so he called him. The cousin never picked up. Therefore, we had to start searching for lodging. We stopped at 5 places around the outskirts of Mombasa before we found a hotel that was cheap enough. The hotel cost 500 Shillings a night, which is $7.50. After I killed the mammoth spiders and the beetles in the bathroom, the place really wasn’t that bad. I finally got to rest a little after midnight.
The next morning, Fr. Chris called his cousin, only to find out that we wouldn’t be able to stay in his place this week. In the end, Fr. Chris stayed with some priests at a church rectory, Joseph and I stayed at a decent hotel (which was $25 a night for the two of us), and Rhoda stayed with a friend in Mombasa. After the first day, the trip turned out to be a great time, although it cost double than what Fr. Chris told me (I used some of my money from teaching in Houston to pay for the trip).
Instead of boring you with written words about the trip, I will show you the trip in a slideshow:
Here’s my conclusion about Mombasa:
When I entered Mombasa for the first time, the most apparent aspect of the city was the fact that the majority of the people were traditional Muslims. Mosques filled with worshippers and men discussing were sprinkled on what seemed to be every block, the sound of the prayers broadcasted over megaphones from the mosques roared through the streets throughout the entire day, and countless men wore their traditional garments with their taqiyah (cap) while the women were covered from head to toe with only small slits in their clothing for their eyes. When you are in the city, you cannot help but think about the faith of the Mombasa people, because the presence of their faith permeates the entire city through and through.
I took the most from the prayer life of the Muslims. As you probably know, they kneel down to pray five times a day. I think this is a brilliant idea. It takes a strong, committed Christian to have such a prayer life. I feel it is too easy for us to lose connection with God and with the reflection necessary to lead a purposive life. Yet, if you commit to praying five times a day, you are giving yourself this time for reflection and, with such consistency, you are making prayer an integral part of your daily life.
Since their faith is so deeply woven into the heart of their lifestyle, it draws the community together, which is exactly what I saw in the small Christian communities in rural Kenya. However, I think it is difficult to achieve such a sense of community in large cities (such as a city the size of Mombasa). This sense of community, which comes with praying and discussing together and with keeping their mosques at the center of their lives (not just weekly but daily), allows their faith to be vibrantly preserved.
In case you are curious, now that I am back in Nairobi, I am focusing on a few things:
1. Learning Swahili so that I can have the basics down to help the students while I am teaching. I am using a computer program when I am not learning from the locals.
2. Looking through what I will teach at Pumwani, so that I can start preparing lessons.
3. Getting adjusted to Nairobi by exploring the city. I am starting to develop relationships with some people living in Nairobi, and I am still traveling with Fr. Chris as he conducts masses and attends events.
4. Eventually, I will go to the rural area to help Fr. Chris’ family on their small farm.
5. Above all, I am growing a beard! Since my students are not that much younger than I am, and since the beard makes me look several years older, it will place a further age gap between us. This is important, because many Kenyan girls want to marry a white man, especially because it would mean citizenship to a Western country...
I am waiting in great anticipation for the school year to start, as this will be a time for tremendous impact. Despite this, I understand the month of August will be necessary for preparing me for the classroom.
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