whoa!

Kisumu, Kenya Airport

It is by the grace of God that I am here, safe in Fidelis’ home. It’s 3:19 am here and I just woke in realization of the miracle it has been to get here. You see, Fidelis somehow thought that I was not arriving in Kisumu until September 27, so she was not there when I arrived at the small Kisumu airport. It was also by the grace of God that I made it to Kisumu. After my stay in Nairobi and a wonderful time meeting the CRWRC folks and having an awesome meeting/coversation with Stephan Lutz, it was time for me to go back to Jomo Kenyatta/Nairobi airport. My friend Sammy picked me up and you would not believe the traffic and the traffic rules! Kenyans drive on the right side of the vehicle and always stay left on the road. Signal lights are used less than hands out the side of the window. After a crazy winding ride I found myself being shoved through a hectic bag check/security check.

Way back in the Calgary airport I had lost my packet of AMA travel information that, turns out, contained all of my tickets. I thought the tickets would be online still so I thought I would be ok just to show my travel itinerary that had my reservation number for the 45 minute Nairobi to Kisumu flight. They told me that I could not board the plane without these paper tickets, I would have to buy another one. With only 30 minutes before take-off I rushed to buy a one way ticket to Kisumu. There was one for me and somehow my bags got on the small plane in that short time too. The plane ride out of Nairobi was very nice and I was able to relax and allow my red, red cheeks to fade. I need to work out these tickets before I come home. I made more friends on the place. Joyce, a Kenyan/Ghanaian woman told me all about gardening in Maseno area.

Walking out of the plane I did not see Fidelis, my name or any sign of MICH in the crowd of eager taxi drivers. Each had to ask me if they could take me even though I had clearly refused all before. I assumed Fidelis was running late so I would wait. Like in the Nairobi airport, the taxi drivers want to make sure your ride is here so they ask for the number of your contact so that they can call them for you. Thank the Lord Heather and Roy photocopied Fidels’ business card for me back in August! I pulled that out and called the MICH office and had a very diffcult time understanding the woman on the other line but seemed to hear Fidelis was on her way so I repeated “she is on her way?” loudly so that the group of young eager taxi drivers surrounding me would give up. Most moved on except kind Rafael who did not hesitate to ask me to marry him and not go back to Canada. He was funny for a while because he was mostly joking so I laughed and told him there was no way. He still persisted.

After no Fidelis, Rafael tried her cell phone and we spoke briefly until her phone died. She called us back with someone else’s phone and after some confusion I found out she was on her way to Kampala and shocked that I was in Kisumu. She panicked to try to call someone to pick me up but could not get a hold of anyone. I was relatively relaxed through all of this and somehow felt safe with 27 year old Rafael who said he was in love with me and told me he was my angel. Go figure! When she called back she asked if there was a taxi driver she could speak to. Rafael was glowing. She told him where to take me and we were off. It was dark and the dirt road to here was winding, bumpy and lined with dark figures. I was clutching the car door handle and rolled up my window feeling a bit unsafe but Rafael insisted that I was safe and we would get there soon. He said he was born to meet me and make me laugh. He was kind but too much. He relentlessly asked me to call him and never forget him. I could only tell him he was funny and that I was not here to be in a romantic relationship. He told me to try to be good to him. (?) I still somehow trusted him.

When we first pulled into the wrong driveway I was concerned, but we called Fidelis again and we got to the right place judging by the MICH truck. He said, “we are here now, I am the man in charge” after he had spoken with Fidelis. These people are always on their cell phones! Unfortunately he understood her directions far better than I so I trusted him to it. It’s difficult for me to catch all of this English, especially when it is spoken fast. We hauled my bags p the stairs and knocked on the first right door on the second floor. Fidelis’ roommate Nemo, who is now my friend, answered. After our explanation and Rafael calling Fidelis to talk to Nemo, she welcomed us in, served the taxi driver and we all watched television together. Rafael asked me to call him again waiting for my reply. I said maybe but I can not promise. He begged me to promise. I would not and he gave a sad puppy look and I had to look away. Finally he said he had to leave and I thanked him, paid him 200 ksh for his phone use.

When he was gone, Nemo and I laughed together about it. After I told her how I had made it here she said I was VERY lucky and fortunate to have had contact with Fidelis. “Who knows what could have happened to you!” –this line is turning my stomach as I sit here awake in my nice potential bedroom for 3 months. But praise the Lord, I am safe and I am here and tomorrow Nemo will take me shopping to get a cell-phone, groceries, maybe guitar, and an internet card so that I can post these journal entries. They won’t always be this long, unless each day is this adventurous! Thank-you for your prayers, I love you all.