Arrival

It was a relief to finally board the plane and take off. When I first decided to take the job, I was afraid I wouldn’t have enough time to get everything in order and take care of all the loose ends that come along with dropping a life in Chicago and moving to Kenya. It turns out, though, that I should have been more afraid of having too much time. Too much time to second guess, too much time to worry and wonder. In those moments of doubt there was always a chance to say “I’m not going to do this,” and those thoughts were a stressful burden right up until the last minute. When we finally took off though, the decision was made. There was no going back and the definitiveness felt good after two months of questioning.

But definitiveness is a lot different than excitement and confidence. I was both confident and excited about my decision, but a lot less so than I would have liked to be for such a big commitment. It was easy applying for the job and convincing myself that I’d do anything, even move to Africa, for nine months, but the last month leading up to the actual move was a lot harder than I anticipated. I’ll have plenty of time to sort all that out, but at this point, the decision is made and I’m already into my second week in Nairobi.

So far, so good, although it’s fair to say my expectations were really low since my closet frame of reference was the Peace Corps. Within two days of arriving to Nicaragua, I was dropped off in a small town and expected to live with a family that spoke no English. The mornings started with a bucket bath of icy cold water followed by rice and beans for breakfast. The nights were capped off by crawling through a mosquito net and falling asleep to the unfamiliar sounds of roosters and feral dogs. The first week was more uncomfortable than anything I had imagined. By moving to Kenya, I knew I wasn’t getting myself into something like that again but having gone through that, my first week in Nairobi has been a breeze, complete with pleasant surprises. A king size bed, wireless internet, hot water, a full grocery store, and a 9-5 life not unlike Chicago’s will go a long way in keeping me happy. And it’s infinitely easier to adjust to a new country when you can understand what’s being said to you, especially when during the first week the most repeated phrase from my Kenyan co-workers was “Welcome to Kenya. Welcome to Africa.” Indeed.