Quarter Pounder

We went to Kitale on Friday! 

The trip was to serve two purposes: 1. Have Michael's truck serviced, and 2. Find a restaurant that serves American food.

Check and check. 

This was the cutest little burger I've seen.

The repairs for Michael's truck took all afternoon, from around noon until 5:30pm. In the meantime, 

Checking out the work.

Peter accompanied me to the Mid African Hotel (nice restaurants, in at least rural Kenya, are in hotels) where I ate a cheese burger and a bowl of mixed fruit, and its ladies' room had running water and a toilet (the kind you can sit on!)! 

I think a trip to Kitale was just what I needed. I was really getting tired of hearing "mzungu" and "how are you?" every time I went into Kapenguria with Nelly or Peter. There are quite a few other mzungus in Kitale, so the number of people who stared or said something at me was closer to zero.

In Kapenguria, I wave or respond to children who yell "mzungu!" or the never-ending and repeated question "how are you?" I am pretty sure this is the first English statement all children are taught... But it has really been getting on my nerves when adults do the same thing, especially if they do not also greet the person who is with me. If they greet Nelly or Peter, then I will certainly stop and humor their English efforts. If not, well, ignoring them doesn't seem to make them stop or go away, so I've found responding briefly in Swahili is the best solution.

In Kenya, the common Swahili greeting is "Habari," which literally means "how are you?" No "hi" or "hello" precedes this, and if you do eventually share your name with someone, it happens much later in the conversation. The Pokot greeting varies, but is also similar..."Sapay," "Takweny," "Caram noman," and "Caram" are all essentially asking "how are you?"

In the States, when you greet someone you don't know, you usually introduce your name right after you say "hello." I would do this the first few times I greeted people in Kenya, and they would always seem confused or surprised, as if I was trying to end the conversation before it had even begun. As a result, it has taken me a great long while to learn the names of all of Michael's kids, as well as the people who regularly come by Michael's home.

I'm not sure why, but people usually do not refer to each other by name, either, especially if they are within pointing distance. Nelly, Michael, and Angelina often say "that guy," or "that kid," or "that boy" when referring to someone in the immediate vicinity, making it, of course, even more difficult to not only learn the names of people, but also learn (for a mzungu) the difficult pronunciation of some of their names.

I have had the awkward inquiry from a few people asking me if I remember their names. I have no choice but to respond honestly: "No. When we first met, I was given your African-sounding name, your English-sounding name, and a nickname. (And I haven't heard any of them since then.) Which would you prefer I use?" This doesn't seem to offend anyone, in fact, they find it rather entertaining.

This morning, Nelly taught me how to make chai. I kept asking her if she knew about how much water and milk she was using, but she didn't seem to know. So, hopefully my estimate and scribbling of a "parts" breakdown will be close enough. Michael has suggested I take the lead on making chai a few times before I leave so I can get a feel for it.