Getting to Dagoretti (but first, Kenya)

They told me to expect the unexpected. Unexpectedly, I have been reassigned from the slums of Dagoretti to Mukuyu, a larger mission that sisters run about an hour outside of Nairobi.

But before we get to all that, let me take you on a journey. It’s a pretty boring journey to be completely honest. I got to the airport in Dallas about an hour and a half before my flight and checked my luggage, unfortunately having to check my carry on bag because it was too heavy, and got my ticket. I did the usually TSA security mess: take off your shoes, take out your laptop, empty your pockets, put your feet on the yellow marks and raise your hands over your head. Once done with that, I filled up my water bottle and got in line to board. They looked over my passport, tore my boarding pass, sent my down the ramp to board the plane, and then –

Oops.

So remember that TSA bit? The bit about emptying your pockets? Well, usually I don’t have anything in my pockets. The thing is, when I had to check my carry on bag, I took out the breakables or things I absolutely did not want to get lost on the way to Kenya. This included my camera and the USB drive that had all the forms and documents I would need while in Kenya. So guess where it and my wooden rosary, blessed by the bishop with a cross given to him by Pope John Paul II, ended up?

In my pocket.

I’m walking down the ramp when I pat my pockets and realize – crap – I left both of these very important things at TSA. Well, as it turns out, once they’ve torn your boarding pass, you are no longer technically allowed to go out because of security reasons. However, the TSA, because of security reasons, will not give anyone forgotten items that are not their own. Including flight attendants who run to the farthest TSA checkpoint to try and grab the aforementioned forgotten items for their forgetful passenger. Eventually the head person at the flight check-in desk let a flight attendant accompany me (after they took my passport and ticket stub) back to TSA to grab my stuff. The whole time we are power walking there and back, the flight attendant’s walkie talkie is going crazy with people demanding to know if there is anyone else that needs to board the flight (YES. I NEED TO BOARD THIS FLIGHT), and he is loudly saying into the mouthpiece, “We got the stuff, we’re on our way!”

Anyway, I made it back and was able to get on the plane and fly to Dubai. Obviously. Since I am now in Kenya.

Nothing much more exciting or traumatizing happened. Watched a million movies on the way to Dubai (slight exaggeration, but only slight), had a four hour layover there, and then watched three movies on the way to Kenya. Though I did end up sitting next to a woman who works for the UN in Nairobi, and she offered to set me up with a tour of their offices if I have time while I’m here! So that was pretty legit.

I managed to get through customs will little hullabaloo, and we’ll see how the visa extension process goes when I try to get through that.

When I got out of the airport, I figured I would be able to tell who Sr. Lucy was, solely by virtue of her habit. Unfortunately, I drastically overestimated the simplicity of getting picked up at the Nairobi airport. Luckily a nice taxi driver took pity on me and offered to call Sr. Lucy for me to let her know where I was. (Thank goodness I had a picture of her phone number, otherwise things might have been a lot more traumatic.)

Sr. Lucy and Sr. Rosa picked me up and took me to the Provincial house in Nairobi since it was too late to make it out to Dagoretti. There I also met Melanie, who stayed up to welcome me. She is actually in Tanzania, but to renew her visa she has to leave the country every three months for a week. Sr. Rosa gently insisted on feeding me (cheese sandwich and hot milk – strange but satisfying). Sr. Giselle also showed up to say hello and took the opportunity to inform me that I would be in Mukuyu instead of Dagoretti and that I would head there from my original posting on Saturday. With that bombshell dropped, I went to bed.

(Though honestly, I was too mentally exhausted to actually be shocked. You know when you become so tired that you stop being tired? Yeah. That was me.)

The next day, I woke up, took a shower (my hair is so poofy now!), and wandered around looking for someone to help me out – or feed me. And I found someone who could do both! Martha provided me with bread, jam, and warm milk (I sense this may become a theme) before showing me over to the Maria Romero Children’s House.

Saint Mary Mazzarello!

Courtyard at the Provincial House in Nairobi

Lunch with the sisters

She introduced me to the girls who are currently there (some are on a trip), and I was promptly made to assist on math homework and hone my Swahili skills. Thanks to them, I can now count to one hundred as well as say a smattering of random words and phrases! Mvulana, boy. Kiti, chair. Naenda kulala, I am going to sleep.

Classroom of the Maria Romero House

Drying clothes!

Playground for the kids

Look at the mural! So cool!

Chopping and skinning pumpkins

After that, I was kindly bullied into helping the girls skin pumpkins (which looked nothing like American pumpkins) and potatoes (which looked exactly like American potatoes). I was called away by the sisters for lunch, after which Sr. Anna arrived to take me to Dagoretti!

Interesting Story of the Day:

The girls tried to teach me how to dance. It…didn’t go well.

Until next time, kwaheri!