Driving 101

Driving to work

This blog was supposed to be posted the first week I came to Africa, but due to chaotic work weeks, and perhaps some embarrassment, the story has been pushed back to now.

Because the British have such an influence in Kenyan culture, Kenyans drive on the wrong side of the road -that is to say, the left side. Convinced that I needed to feel independent, the Kamaus (my Kenyan host family) so graciously offered the car keys to me. On my fourth day in Kenya I was given all the privileges of of a 16 year old, along with additional fears and anxieties. I was told not to worry, I could drive in the US, so driving in Nairobi should be natural.

Natural! ha! Everything that I learned in the US should be thrown out the window. Other than turning the key and adjusting the seat, nothing is the same. I had observed Wallace Kamau driving through the city, and often times I closed my eyes and prayed for fear that if I continued to watch I would not be able to suppress the screams of fright as we narrowly missed head-on collisions with mutatus and motor bikes. The rule in Kenya is that there are no rules. Terrifying. People will cut across four lanes of traffic to make a right-hand turn (remember this is opposite US driving). Where there should be two lanes, four will suddenly emerge as mutatus can pass on either side. If there is not room to pass, they will make room -this leaves pedestrians to fend for themselves. That in itself is a whole other situation. I have never seen so many pedestrians in my life. In America, whether out of the kindness of our hearts or fear of a lawsuit, we make sure to give the pedestrian plenty of space. In Kenya, so long as someone doesn't die, everything is ok... and even then, I am not sure what would happen. People run across roads with reckless abandon, sometimes dragging children, other times carrying crates, juggling chickens, or pushing wheel barrows. In kenya you must be ready to stop. You must watch people from every angle, and you must be ready for anything -like the truck that drops sticks, the mutatu that jumps the curb to pass, the lady with chickens who just stands in the middle of the street, and especially the motor bike that fancies driving in the your lane because his lane is too congested.

Ah yes, Kenyan driving. There are speed limits, but they are never followed. Instead, to assure a safe speed, there are speed bumps avery 400yds -0%exaggeration. There aren't always road signs, and round-abouts are a bona-fide mess -may the bravest car win. Needless to say, driving is different.

Back to my story: First day of driving lessons, actually first five minutes of driving lessons, I am rounding a corner coming out of the neighborhood, and here comes this enormous truck. Anyone who works with HUGE trucks would appreciate the size of this thing. There was nowhere to go, so I do what  instinct would tell me to, I start to pull over to the side of the road, hoping that a few extra inches will save our lives. Instead what I found, or what the tire found, was a huge piece of concrete conveniently placed where I could not see it. MPUUUUSHH -there goes the old tire. Talk about embarrassing -not only am I driving the other interns to work, but Mary, Wallace, and their two children are in the car. Then, on top of that, I think every pedestrian, motorbike, and car stopped to see what was going on and how they could help. Luckily, out of the some 30 people who stopped, someone knew how to change a tire. So, with the new donut in place, we were off again -with me in the driver's seat.

Oh yes, there is no better time to get back on the horse than right after you fall. So, I drove us all the way to Mathare that day, and everyother day since that incident.

So, what is the lesson? Don't drive into concrete blocks :)