Watch the Walk

Island living tip: if you're taking a taxi and you want to get where you're going without extreme delays, get in a car that's already full of people who are going farther than you, but in the same direction. Since taxis are shared, they often require flexibility in planning. Sometimes it takes 10 minutes, sometimes 45. Let's take a look at some reasons why it might take longer: The Errand Runner: She's got a list of places to go, but she can't be bothered to walk there. It's all on the way, so why not make the driver stop at the shop for phone credit, the vegetables sellers for salad fixings, and at her husband's work so she can deliver his snack? The One Who Lives Far From the Main Road: Everyone in the taxi is going the same direction... sort of. But this one lives at the far end of a dead-end road, and wants to be delivered to his door. Maybe he's old, maybe he's got lots of bags, and maybe he is just lazy, but everyone else goes along...

[This is the story of a dear friend of mine, about one time she went to visit her son and grandchildren.] You know my son, who lives over on the French island? I've gone to visit him many times, you know. The first three times I went through the consulate and got a visa to visit him. But then the fourth time they didn't give me a visa. So I had to go by illegal fishing boat. We left my town in the morning. And you know it only takes a little time to cross the ocean to the French island. But we stayed on the ocean all day... many hours... until after sunset, because the boat captain was worried about the police.  Finally we were put ashore. I was old then (I'm even older now, and my legs don't work properly). But back then I was old, I couldn't run fast. But I thought maybe someone would take care of the grandmother. They all ran away, except for maybe two people. I asked them the name of the town we were next to and they told me. I told them that I didn...

Here on Clove Island we seek to be friendly and to make connections wherever we go. Sometimes you meet someone and immediately recognize a kindred spirit, one with whom we share that "invisible thread" of connection. But more often a potential friend turns into one of the following: The phone caller-- They have your phone number and they use it. Every day. Multiple times a day. Whether or not they actually want to talk, they want to be sure that they're not forgotten. And forgotten they're not. When you see their name on the caller ID you sigh with remembrance. The hanger outer-- They know where you live and have discovered that your house is a nice place to hang. So they come over to hang out. Not necessarily to even visit with you. This type of friend will often hang out in your living room, playing games on their phone, calling other people, or just kind of staring at you until you say something. Sometimes they want to chat, but almost always they show up too o...

This week has been a rough one for dinner time. We have a particular neighbor who likes to drop by on her way to or from her house, or both, depending on the day. Often she just stops in for a few minutes, but sometimes she settles in for the long haul. She sits down, tells graphic stories about the misdeeds of neighbors and acquaintances, scrolls Facebook on her phone, calls friends, and generally just hangs out. One of the dinners that waited And this week her settling in has conveniently collided with our dinner time on multiple occasions. No matter what time we are finishing up dinner prep, she arrives just as the end is in sight. I'd say that it's intentional, but she couldn't have timed it better if she tried. It's not like we eat at the same time every night. I'd like to say that it's easy to just add another plate and go with it, but it's often not as easy as that. We don't often cook islander-style food at home. And sometimes... we e...

"You probably don't appreciate the traffic here." It was phrased as a statement, but I knew it was really a question. What do you think of the traffic? My Kenyan driver weaved through traffic, gently pushing his way into intersections and avoiding the pedestrians and motorcycle traffic as they intermingled with cars and trucks. Actually, I have a great appreciation for how traffic works in Nairobi. It's the truth. I appreciate the skill of drivers there, the way that they watch traffic and respond in accordance with it. I appreciate how everyone moves through roundabouts, getting where they need to go. Systems are systems. The US system of driving is nice-- you follow the rules of the road and normally things work out fine. But then there's distracted driving. The driver checking Facebook, taking a picture, answering texts, talking on the phone, setting up navigation. It doesn't take long for things to go wrong. In Nairobi it's a lot harder to be a d...

Here on Clove Island I take taxis regularly. Now, this isn't the sort of taxi you might imagine-- a car to yourself and a meter running to tell you how much to pay. No, it's shared, and the price is set. For approximately 55 cents I can go anywhere in the capital region. The driver picks up and drops off passengers at their individual destinations. So here's how it works: 1) you stick our your hand at a taxi that's going the way you want to go, 2) you tell the driver where you're going, 3) if he agrees, you get in, and 4) eventually you arrive at your destination. This is where a sense of ethics comes in on the taxi driver's part. Sometimes you get a driver who just wants you to be his passenger and will obscure where he's going, "Sure! Hop in! I'll take you there!" he says, even though he knows the other passengers aren't going your direction. I recently had a driver pick me up after agreeing that we were all going t...

"Men here, they're just no good." My friend looked at me and sighed, frustrated over trying to find a man worth her time. She continued her complaint: -- They all sleep around before getting married -- They pressure you to sleep with them as soon as you're engaged -- They marry multiple women, then cheat on their wives with girlfriends on the side. -- They don't support their wives or children well, and their eyes are always wandering. Islanders, at least every islander I've encountered thus far, wants a baby. And in order to have a baby you need to get married. And in order to marry, you need to find someone to marry. But the men have their complaints too. "Women here, they're just no good." I was the only passenger in the taxi, and the driver needed to get this weight off his chest. -- All they care about is having a baby... -- And how much money you give them. -- You never know who they might be sleeping with on the side. -- Th...