There are definitely a lot of aspects of living in San Diego that I have taken for granted. I arrived here in Kakamega, Kenya, hearing that it was the rainy reason, and I thought that meant occasionally I would need an umbrella, and few other thoughts crossed my mind. I had no idea that what should have registered was that daily, I would have to adjust my plans based on when the rain would come. Walking is the main form of transport, or at least the one I prefer the most. If it is bad, i can take a bike taxi, boda boda, which is always fun but I take infrequently as I feel it is not the most stable form of transportation, or i can shove myself into an overcrowded van, which only works for part of the way. I think walking is a must with all the Ugali and Chipati I eat. I started out being very stubborn about the rain. I didn’t want to change my day around the weather. I would go to internet cafes after work, not caring if the rain would come when I was done, and then try to walk home the entire way. This attitude made for skirts and shoes completely covered and mud, and a much longer journey than necessary. Another thing I am thankful for, paved roads in America. Mud. I don’t know if I can articulate the fun I have, walking home, on unpaved roads, after the rain. I love the beautiful red dirt contrasted to the green of maize and grass, with pigs, cows, and goats grazing freely around me as I walk to work, I don’t really love the endless mud that remains after the rain, that forces me to slip, slide, and get stuck in as onlookers laugh at the Mzungu. It's hard for me to think I can look funnier to them, as the sight of me in general invokes laughter all around.
When I first arrived I remember a time when it began to rain when I was taking a boda boda home, and we had to speed to try to avoid getting soaked. It became too much so we had to finally stop in a shop, and wait out the rain in a shopkeepers home. I loved it. I thought it was thrilling. Now that the rain isn’t an adventure one Sunday afternoon, and has to be integrated in my daily life, I am far less thrilled. I definitely miss being able to escape the few times a year it rains in San Diego, in a warm car, and not having to adjust or cancel any plans, except maybe a day of tanning at the beach. The rain here is a much different story. It comes everyday. I am lucky when it comes after I have finished all I need to do in town, and leisurely walked back home. This is not usually the case. At least I am getting less stubborn, and give in and take bodas when I know rain is imminent.
The best part of the rain is that no matter how bad it is to get home, there is always a warm cup of chai waiting for me, which makes up for most of the trouble.
