boda boda

on the way back to town from the neema girls' project, i had my first boda boda ride.

a boda boda is a bicycle taxi... basically in the states it'd be the equivalent of an older schwinn bicycle with a metal rack on the back... only these metal racks are about 20 inches long (if that), and are welded onto the bicycle so they can hold the weight of a human being.

the bikes are seriously so funny... most of them have what i can only describe as little padded skirts coming off the back of their passenger seat racks, and normally a saying like "god loves" or something religiously cheesy is scrawled in permanent marker on the sides of the seat skirt.

seriously, they need all the Jesus they can get when driving on these roads... good LORD it's chaotic and dangerous.

before i left the states, i was telling my sisters and daniel's family that as id heard the stories from here, there were a few things i would not be offended by in africa, and was going to prepare myself for. most were about the boda rides.

my "i will not be offended IF..." list was as follows:
- if... kenyans call me fat... because i am, and because to them, it is a compliment
- if... a boda driver tells me he wants double the shillings to ride my butt two miles across unsmooth dirt and hilly ground... cuz seriously, i'd demand double to carry an amazonian white girl on the back of my bicycle, too
- if... after receiving double the payment for riding me on his bike, the kenyan man half my size decides to make me walk up a hill rather than attempt to ride me... cuz thats just being smart, and i admire good sense in a man
- if... after watching me trudge up the hill after him and his bicycle, he changes his mind about riding me the rest of the way and just runs away with my money... nope. i wont mind.
- if... it's like a relay race to get me where i need to go. i wont mind... itll be more adventurous and the stories will be better

so these are all the things i'd thought about my boda boda ride BEFORE coming to africa... and i was quite intrigued to see if any would come true.

none did. it was so much better than i couldve dreamed up.

i got on the boda with the biggest beefiest driver (probably 170 lbs... if that), and i hiked my skirt up between and around my legs, as we took off and daniel told his boda "follow her" (bodas have tried to run off with white girls who didnt know where they were going, before). i still didnt know the middle of a forest from the road to the compound at that point... so dan made sure i got where i was going.

staying on the bike was fine... ive got good balance. i just wanted to laugh so hard, though. the following story shouldve been embarrassing, but it wasnt. it's just part of the experience here.

other bodas would be passing us, and my driver was huffing and puffing like his life depended on it. the comments (which i'm sure were ones of pity) from the other drivers and their passengers, as well as the kenyans who stopped on the side of the road to watch him ride me by, were enough to keep him going i guess. i felt sorry for him on some uphill parts, so i said "sawa.. sawa" in swahili with means "good... good". it was all i could do to apologize for the fact that he probably wouldnt be able to ride anyone for like a day. i'm sure i broke his legs.

he was a celebrity for that 5 minute one mile bike ride... though what can i say? i live to promote the kenyan celebrity of those who taxi me around when its too far for me to walk, or too hot to make the effort.

oh... and in case youre wondering, i paid him 20 shillings... which is like 25 cents.