Hygiene is overrated!

"Excuse me sir...you have a bedbug on your hat." True story.

The man seated infront of me today seemed oblivious to the fact that he had given a bedbug a free ride from home. I really wanted to give him a shoulder tap and tell him, "Excuse me sir...you have a bedbug on your hat."I dared not. How does one even start? Okay, maybe the bedbug wasn't his. Maybe someone else had transported it and abandoned the bug on the sometimes filthy matatu seats. Poor bug had probably been across town for the past few days! I cringed when it decided to get into the hat, right through into his hair! I still couldn't tell him. Would you?

Reminds me of a day I was admiring some lady's handbag. Then I saw it. A cockroach. Gliding through the glossy surface that was the bag. Women power. I had to tell her. but women can be drama queens, eh?! She jumps hysterically and shouts at the conductor,"Shukisha!"

Conductor: Mathe hapa hakuna stage

Woman: Shukisha! Nimesema nishukishe! Hii matatu ni uchafu tu! Mende tu! Labda hata chawa hazikosi!

You should have seen the other passengers fidget in their seats. Everyone now noticed how dusty, filthy the seat they sat on was. Yuck! Thats why I don't wear mini skirts if I am going to use a matatu. :D I regretted  secretly laughing at another lady who had covered her seat with her scarf before she sat. She seemed immune to the disgust we were all feeling then. I secretly hoped the dramatic woman had carried all the roaches and whatever other bugs were lucking around. I emptied my bag as soon as I got to work and gave it a thorough shake!

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Just the other day, on my way to work, a man walked into the matatu and sat next to me. Unfortunately, the paranoia that comes with the matatu bombings, muggings etc has found an almost permanent place in me. I always scrutinize my seat mate. From the size of his pockets, the kind of bag he/she is carrying, if they got a mean mugging face and where they place their hands. THEY MUST ALWAYS BE WITHIN SIGHT. Needless to say, I always end up hugging my handbag tightly to my chest. So, there was nothing unusual with the man, until he decided to yawn! Mayoo! Gasp! It is kinda alright for your mouth to stink in the evening, you know, but at 7am? No! The window refused to open and so I had to sit there and practice by breath holding skills every few seconds as he yawned here and there. Eh! He must've had a long night, I suppose!

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People be breathing all sorts of air that the windows get misty. Always insist on an open window. TB ina tiba :) na ni kufungua dirisha kwa mat! 

PS: Next time you get into a matatu and you have to stand and hold the javelin(u know, the bar at the roof of the bus?yes. Javelin), please make sure you didn't have githeri or madondo for lunch. Yes? Thank you!

Long overdue! The introduction...

Watu wangu!

I am still waiting for that car. That one God promised? Yes, that one. Meanwhile I need to go to driving school, get a licence and then learn to drive in Nairobi. Simple! Until then, I am stuck with matatus.  About two and a half hours everyday.  But who's complaining? They are my social life during the week!! I get my first mat from Ngara to town. Then the second one drops me in Karen. 

Ngara: My stage is the second last one before we get to town, so I always get the back seat or none at all(because the conductor lied with a straight face, "iko kiti madaaam"). Sometimes, one has to stand to the last stage, about 300m away, and then get a seat once someone alights. Well, tell that to a six footed mama carrying her handbag, a laptop, and sometimes a lunch bag! Oi! Imagine having to hunch because you are taller than the car, one hand holding that rail up there for support and the other balancing the two bags. Not funny! and then there is the fact that am not a size 8, so.....ok moving on :). So due to these avoidable circumstances, I always opt to wait for the second option, the back seat. 

By now you know that am a lil bit over 6ft; a six footed human being has long legs. Long legs need enough space once seated. heheeee. My troubles with the back seat. You know the way the conductor always shouts..."Hapo nyuma, songeni. iko space!!" Then goes on to whisper "Madam, pale nyuma"? Ha! Mat za Eastleigh/Ngara zimebeat! They put seats in every available space. First of all, you have to approach the seat 'Kinyuma nyuma' kama kwa mganga.' This is to alert the rest to start moving and create space. The one time I approached facing the back benchers, I could see their facial reactions asking "huyu atatoshea wapi? kumejaa!" So you walk to the back, your bags hitting the passengers sitting near the aisle on the face and everywhere else, as you manage a 'pole' there and a sorry there. Then comes the tricky part, sitting down. The space created can fit a perfect size 6, 8 or maybe a 10. By God's grace, I am a 14. I'll leave the rest of the details of how I ultimately fit to your imagination. Not all of them are bad though...

Town: I have less struggles enroute Karen. The call man, (The guy who shoutS on top of his lungs ("Bomas hadi Karen 50bob...hamsini Bomas hadi Karen") his name is Omosh, makes my mornings, though he doesn't know it yet. He is so good at his job, that if there are two mats going to Karen, the one with Omosh doing the calling, his will always fill up fast/first. He might even do two rounds while the other poor chap is halfway through his first. This is the route where all the funny, annoying, name it stuff happens. 

See, I always try to mind my business. Really, I do. But you are bound to get bored at some point, seeing that the ride to work is more or less an hour. So what to do but to share with guys on Facebook and Twitter? and SOW (Smile out Widely) because I simply can't LOL.

The evening rides to town via Ngong Road are less interesting. Everyone is tired and just sleeping. Once in a while there is a spectacle, mostly someone arguing with the conductor over fare, change, etc. Otherwise, its just loud music with a DJ shouting over blasting speakers with the hoarsest voice ever, "Ikibamba sana wapi nduru" among other psyche boosters. Once in a while, the driver stops the music to shout to the conductor, "Maich, umemcheki? mpe kahamsa ashike shuguli!" Dont ask! 

Now, I dont know how often am gonna be doing this. Am relying on company wifi...but technically, am home. Isn't home where the wifi is? Good. And of course am gonna be showing 'My Matatu Chronicles' draft to the boss before I post, its company policy. 

If you are anything like me, which I highly recommend, that morning/ evening ride almost makes or breaks your day. So here's to a constant flow of udaku and posts that might, or not, add value to your life.

I hope my mat rides don't get boring just because I started a 'useless-ful' blog. Haya tukienda!!

PS: Once in a while, I will throw in the little sheng I know, or I hear while in the matatu. If you dont understand, please ask your neighbor? Thanks!