I'd better write this now because I'm sure I'll find everything exciting and thrilling again tomorrow. But the truth is, not everything here is always exciting, thrilling, and successful.
During the preparation phase, we were encouraged not only to share positive experiences but also to document the difficulties. This was supposed to help us process the change and also give others a transparent picture. Anyway... I'm just going to rant and rave (Austrian for complain) and feel sorry for myself. So please only read on if you find that kind of thing interesting.
Yesterday we returned home from the coast. The journey took about 11 hours and went smoothly. But I felt awful. I'd eaten something bad the day before and felt nauseous and had chills the whole time (the picture in the post shows Layla with food poisoning – I feel so sorry for her).
Arriving in Nairobi, the police initially couldn't find my beloved Leatherman—a gift from friends. (They had confiscated it before my trip. Train travel here has more security measures than international air travel.) After speaking with numerous officers, manually searching through buckets full of knives, scissors, and similar items, and resisting countless "come back tomorrow" reassurances, I finally found it. I almost kissed the security guard with joy. Back home, after the children were tucked into bed, I was sitting on the toilet when the power went out. It's truly dark here when the power goes out at night, and sitting on the toilet during that time...
The power line for the entire apartment complex runs through our roof. It's also the monkeys' favorite access point. Their swinging back and forth sometimes causes the line to break.
Super.
I woke up tired today, couldn't throw up, and was cold. Liza needs help because the washing machine won't turn on. I dragged myself out to the laundry room and saw that rain had leaked in and the entire electrical outlet had melted. We ran an extension cord from the house. Perfect. It works. But as soon as the laundry was hung outside, it started to rain, everything now had rust-brown stains and had to be washed again.
Super.
The roads are shared not only with life-threatening matatus (minibuses with over 20 passengers), but also with man- or donkey-drawn carts and all sorts of animals.
Despite everything, I still wanted to pick up a present for Layla's birthday. Thanks to Nairobi's traffic, that meant driving for over an hour just to check if the thing worked before buying it (between you and me, ordering things online isn't an option here – I learned that the hard way). But buying things requires money. We've already spent everything on the coast, and getting money from our account in Austria here is always a bit complicated, but simply impossible without internet. No electricity = no internet!
Super.
I went out to the car; the battery was dead. While we were gone, workmen were doing some work in the carport (termites had eaten away at the wooden beams) and had to move the car. They must have left the lights on or something. Because it has an automatic transmission, I can't even push it down the hill like I did with the other car (the other car's battery is completely dead). I called everyone who might be able to help, but I couldn't reach anyone.
When it rains, flooding often occurs. This forces the termites out of their mounds, and they usually fly towards the nearest light source—in this case, the nightlight outside my office. If they crawl under the door, they lose their wings. The question now is... where have all the termites gone?
Super.
Maybe I could park my neighbor's car close enough to chain three jumper cables together and connect the two batteries over the wall. Since she hasn't had power for two weeks, the doorbell doesn't work, and she's charging her phone in the car. I stand outside and yell until she comes out. She's really nice and lets me borrow her car. While trying to get as close as possible through the mud... I tear a hole in her passenger door.
Super.
We don't have enough food, but we can't go and buy any. Our water filter is broken too. We've also run out of dog food.
The attempt to connect the batteries failed. I have two cars that won't start. We have to go to a conference tomorrow morning and I don't know how we'll get there. I also couldn't pick up Layla's present.
Fixing my neighbor's car is going to be expensive. I feel even worse because this lovely woman isn't even angry with me.
The laundry is dirty again. We're hungry and thirsty. It's cold and uncomfortable, and I feel sick. And in my irritation, I snapped at Liza and the children.
What am I even doing here?
An hour later…
My girls have forgiven me and I'm sitting in bed where I belong. I don't even feel that sick.
The sun is back and the birds are chirping in the flowers outside the window.
I have three active, happy, and flexible girls in my family. The little ones built themselves a castle in their room whenever the laundry was already dirty…
Liza is whipping up something fragrant in the kitchen using our supplies. After all, the frozen food is thawing anyway due to the power outage…
The electricity and internet are working again, and we have money again. The shopkeeper on the other side of town said I can pick up Layla's present on Monday; she won't sell it until then.
Benson – the jack-of-all-trades here on the premises – drove 3 hours from Nakuru and is now taking both car batteries to the mechanic on his moped; maybe I can drive myself again tomorrow?
I am privileged to experience an adventure here, to do important work that fulfills me. God loves me and forgives my mistakes again and again. He blesses me on every level…
What more could you want?
