TRAVEL DIARIES 15/11/2016 – 16/11/2016

Are you done?

That was the statement heard in every room that hosted a fourth year as each was being hastened by their friends so as not to be left behind for the trip. Because just imagine otherwise, that would be a terrible joke and not funny at that. Well maybe a little. Some almost missed it but thanks to the African timing luck was on their side. All assembled and we boarded the bus many targeting strategic seats for comfort. Our Maasai driver, as he was called was said to be a very strict one who was actually renown for drinking and leaving students behind. “When I say 10 minutes I mean 10 minutes,” that’s was verbatim as retold to other students who were also going for the field course. Excitement reigned as we left the school and hearts beat hallelujah as we approached the gate. “Fungua gate!” someone shouted. They must have been afraid that the VC would retract his so efficient way of granting us our wish and call us back to wait for the trip till further notice. And hoot! was the sound as we left the gates of our university into the sunrise each mile better than the last as we sped further and further away from our school.

Mother nature calls. I mean everyone, I’m almost sure and this is like the first commandment of travelling must have emptied their bladder before boarding the bus. But the anxiety, happiness and nervousness made some of us want to go more than anticipated. And with courage like knights we matched outside when the bus stopped, praying that Maasai would not shout the obvious and cower us back to our seats. My remark throughout all this strictness was coast ain’t running. My bladder on the other hand might burst, actually I was torn between the bladder and rectum, which needed release first. So we ran for it and I asked one of my mates, where do we go. And she was like, I see a shack ahead let’s help ourselves there. So we went.

 Disclaimer!
Please do not read the next paragraph if your imagination runs wild. Disgusting content ahead.

More like shit ahead. One went in and came out mum, the second approached the door and was like khai! And eventually I went in. Shit just got real, literally! There was a lump of dried feaces at the doorstep, the pit hole was completely covered so it wasn’t possible to use anymore, or let’s say I couldn’t position myself there without fear that I might get swallowed by the massive looking raw waste that stared callously with no fear nor favour. The wall was plastered flat with drippings of stool and remains of what looked like dry maize husks which made me think these were not humans’ because damn, who was able to shoot that high? And how? But why?

And so between the slabs laid on the the shack I peed as fast as I could (guessing the bladder won) and before I could dubstep out of the shack my identification card fell. FML! (fuck my life) Because if not for the villagers around the area, I would have preferred the warm bush than where I was. Turning around and hearing my friends scream hurry up! And the bus hooting threatening to leave, I picked it up and ran towards the bus with no second thought. I sat for five minutes without talking. My head spinning and imagining all sorts of scenarios, what if the shack collapsed on us or what if it sank and I went down with it. Would Maasai stop the bus to start digging little me out of feaces and foul smell? Sleep came to my aid and luckily I never got to imagine the answers.

The ride bumpy and smooth at the same time kept starving each person’s anticipation of the lovely coast. As icing to the cake, pockets were full of cash. Add personal pocket money and others entire life savings plus the liquid four thousand five hundred shillings that was given for our accommodation needs on arrival. “Thank you Moi university,” someone said. That was a first and I concurred because in this school you enjoy it while it lasts.

Finally we reached Nakuru for breakfast. Maasai again, “20 minutes max, and no waiting for anyone. So we hurried out and each one of us stocked themselves with snacks, food, beverages and even drinks.
Suprisingly, Maasai also got caught up in the frenzy and decided to extend some time by default. Finally we were on the bus ready to leave.
And then hell broke loose in what you would call T minus 20 minutes. Booze kicked in and more like 90% of the bus was speaking in tongues.
Men and women were shouting from the top of their voices and all I could come up with from the words thrown around was ginene! Mother fucker this mother fucker that. My seat mate turned to see what was going down and in a second she was like, “Tutaskiza hizi motherfuckers hadi coast? Si tuwatch tu a black movie,” and I was like let’s try porn! A little extreme eh! You think!

Omwana was shouting, pombe si ya watoto ni ya watu wakubwa, another asking nani watoto? and he replies kama uyo ameenda kukojoa. People burst out laughing because in that same statement all then became silent as if paving sound waves for the lecturers in the bus to grasp. Regardless, Omwana was still the voice of reason seated at the right seat of the left side of the bus. He now stood to calm a cock and bull fight that almost broke out amongst two people both with top shouting voices producing distinct sounds. Ebu uliza uyo anaambia nani? Ntakushona wewe, ntakushona! and for a split second there was another calm then met by another unaambia nani? This was a retort from a suggestion that people should settle and stop asking the driver to stop the bus so as to go and release. Again, unaambia nani? each nani louder than the last. The tongues were now clear and unaambia nani? took over in most of all. That’s how Omwana sat his misguided courage and back to sleep almost everyone was. Small discussions were heard here and there but what was clear is that let the sleeping dogs lie.

The picture above taken by the author is a show case of the black, long and thick Portuguese canons found in Fort Jesus, Mombasa. It is used since the canons were beautiful and the tour guide had a way of relaying the information about them to us which I’m sure none will soon forget. Innuendos were used and the sightful cannons also mirrored the sleeping dogs as mentioned above. They functioned but big black balls were used at the tip to block them from making explosions lest i mention safety matters. With that said let’s wait for the next travel diary coming out soon!

9 Comments

  1. “Si tuwatch tu black movie and i was like let’s try porn”..Hilarious Lynda..lovely piece as usual..your words made me travel along with you”..you should have settled for a warm bush instead haha..nice

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.