Flying sausages

Before you ask me, no there are no such things as flying sausages...except if you live in my world that is.

This all took place one fine Sunday morning. My parents and I were so excited about my having driving lessons. We’d been running around looking for L-plates then finally gave up and decided that I could draw them myself. Not an easy task I tell you considering there’s some colouring involved. 

[Got that image from google] but you see what I mean. While my brother and sister are somewhat artists, I’m just me.

It was on this Sunday morning that flying sausages were discovered. I took my seat behind the wheel ready to drive us to church. I was armed with my self-made L-plates and my teenage pride that I was probably the best one out on the road.

We left the house, heads and bodies still attached and seat belts firmly on. The only thing that wasn’t secure was my breakfast. There wasn’t enough time to look pretty and eat so I had to sacrifice one and since getting ready was paramount I decided that the breakfast could be carried. I put my boerewors [it’s not even in the dictionary???] in a Tupperware and put them on the dashboard. Father at the front, never again, and we were off.

I didn’t even see it coming you know. I was turning onto Kiambu road from our estate when everything went wrong.

According to that law in physics, bodies in motion blah, blah, blah... I was turning right and you know what happens in a car when you turn right. Everything goes wrong... I meant left including boerewors in a Tupperware on the dashboard of the car.

I was hungry and so the last thing I wanted was to lose my breakfast. I thus focused my attention on my meat. I was not interested in the road anymore even though I was at the wheel.

Dad: wa! Wa!

Mum: AHHHHHH! [In her ‘I trust you completely’ motherly fashion]

Me: what?

Dad: the road!!!!

Me: oh....ahhhhhh! [in my completely calm and appropriate ‘I’m in control voice’, which I never am, in control, that is, and calm so...]

We drive on the left in Kenya. I was headed for a bush or a tree or a ditch [everything happened so fast, in slow motion...well I didn’t see] on the right side. I quickly pulled the car to the appropriate side of the road SKILLFULLY avoiding that oncoming car and after making sure that my father had my breakfast safe and secure and uncontaminated.

At which point I realized what had just happened.

Mum: where were your eyes?

Dad: she was focused on her food.

Mum: are you crazy?

Father is probably asking himself about all the driving lessons he’s been paying for even though he paid in advance so that’s that.

Me: what?

Mum: you just wanted your sausages?

Me: boerewors

Mum: same thing.

Dad: flying sausages.

They were laughing while my heart was still in my throat.

And they weren’t even getting the name right.

Me: IT’S BOeREWORS!!!!

p.s there's a huge difference between boerewors and just sausages! BIG difference!

The Trials of being from different tribes...

I'll keep it as simple as can be.

My father is Luhya. My mother is Luo and Kikuyu. Post Election terror was a very hard time for me...well not too much but we did drive over a tree which can be somewhat traumatizing. Oh yeah and almost driving off...ah but that's another story...

This, however, is today's maneno...

I was hungry so I had to get food and I did not want the one from the cafeteria which can get somewhat monotonous so I had to make a decision. it was not easy, to say the least.

What my Luo blood was telling me: Order the food and then flash your dollar bills in the air!

What my Kikuyu blood was telling me: Don't spend that money. In fact, work for the food store and earn more

What my Luhya blood was telling me: Don't worry about the wind or the fact that you're sinking in the snow. Go and get those CHICKEN WINGS! Ululations all around!!!

We all know which voice I listened to. ;)

if you don't understand...you should taste these chicken wings and see the state of my boots...

My journey to Village Market

I live four kilometres from Village Market and for some strange undiscovered reason, I decided to walk to it. I’m certain I was drugged that day or maybe I was being brainwashed.

All I know is that I was going to meet someone at two that day and super me decided to spread her wings, you know if I had wings. That I think would be pretty cool if you ask me.

I left the house two hours before I was needed in town. It’s good to mention that there are various forms of travel from my house to the fore stated mall and I chose to ignore the motor bikes and tuktuks that were calling out to me and decided I was brave enough to foot it all the way. I mean I was saving a lot of money and consequently the transport dudes from having unnecessary arguments with me. 

I was being economical...

So I grabbed my stuff. It was a hot day; and it was so bloody hot there weren’t any clouds. But I was still determined to go along with my really bad idea. I even carried a jacket, you know in case it rained; which it didn’t look like it would. And as for my bag, it was loaded with ninety percent unnecessary stuff and the ten percent weighed less than a feather but I insisted that yes, a thick notepad, umbrella, novel I wasn’t going to touch, another novel I wasn’t going to touch a bunch of DVDs and that big container of Vaseline had to come even though I could have left them behind.

I was set and I was off. Naturally as he was opening the gate for me, Msumba gave me the stink eye. He was probably wandering where this mad child was going. I was going trekking is where.

It was only five minutes before I decided to give up and hail a motor bike and one second later when I talked myself out of it. I was determined to get there, heat stroke or no heat stroke.

Forty five minutes into the journey, I am crawling, almost. I am hallucinating as well, and day hallucinations have nothing to do with the fun stuff it’s all boring ‘is that guy going to rob me’ stuff. Night hallucinations have been said to be epic.

I’m practically dying. I keep thinking every mirage is actual water. I have passed my best friend’s place in spite of my extreme need for a cool drink. I’ve convinced myself she’s not home. [she probably was].

I’m strong I can do it. I don’t even think I had anything to listen to when I know that music usually motivates me when I’m doing something, especially when it’s something stupid and that happens to be a lot.

I pass a zebra. Then I pass a giraffe. These are not actual things. Maybe a tall person and another wearing a stripped shirt. I don’t care. They were real to me.

The sun doesn’t care either. It’s not being paid and it’s taking it out all on me. I don’t even want to explain what’s happening in my axillary fossa. The house help is going to have a hard time removing certain stains after she tries to figure out how one girl can sweat that much.

I’ve probably lost like a million calories now so the prospect of losing more is pushing me forward. I carry on. I am a proud African woman and I ignore the temptation of hitch hiking or jumping on a passing tuktuk. I can do this!!!!

Even the exclamation marks appear in my mind.

The twist comes when I finally reach the barrier with inexorable excitement that gets me there. It’s now been one hour and a few minutes. I could easily pay ten bob for a matatu to take me to Village Market but I say to myself the worst words in the English dictionary.

“I’ve already come this far, what’s another a hundred meters?”

Turns out it was more than just a hundred meters and I figured that out when I was panting and scraping my knees on the ground.

It was sexier than you think I assure you.

I pass an elephant. Then I say hi to an alien. He’s really cute. And green. That doesn’t faze me at all. I’m there! I have reached Village Market and that’s all that matters.

I need a bottle of water and some energy bull now! is that supposed to be red bull? I can’t be that confused. Money is not an object now. in fact the thought of wasting it makes me smile. Why didn’t cross my mind earlier??? It’s like I just cancelled out everything I just worked on! And it feels good.

Some dude I know: hi Wa!

I turn around and I want to crawl under a hole. It’s not like I should have been surprised that I had met someone from my neighbourhood. The problem was that I looked like this.

 

or like this (Pictures are from Google, so I didn't actually look like this...hehe)

 

I choke on my dry throat.

Some dude I know: why do you look so tired?

Me: I just walked all the way here from home.

He’s visibly shocked, that is I can see it in his eyes.

Some dude I know: what? You should have come to my house to have chicken!

How...how in the good Lord’s name is that possibly of any help to me and my current state? Is it socially acceptable for someone to rub their good lunch experience in your face? Is that okay?

Me: oh, gosh I wish I had known but I just wanted the unforgettable experience of walking four kilometres across our estate to save money only to come and spend it on water and a packet of gum...

That’s what I wanted to say. I feared he’d find my sarcastic tone a turn off if he was willing to bypass the sweat literally dripping from my body and the odour so instead I said...

Me: thanks maybe next time.

Some dude I know: bye then

Me: whatever.

I’ve long since realised... shindwe I was going to say something profound but I’ve lost it.

Just one more thing, do not walk to Village Market from my house or my neighbours’ house, or my neighbours’ neighbours house which if you think about it are my neighbours so I’m just repeating myself.

Right.