We are entering our 8th week of training in Peace Corps Kenya, and I can hardly wrap my mind around that. Time moves in a pace that is so different here than in the United States. The past 7 weeks feels as if they have been compressed and really turned out to be only 3 weeks, but I have mental battle scars from each week to prove it was 7 weeks.

Yesterday, I attended my first Kenyan wedding. During training, the staff warned the trainees that the Kenyan concept of time is very different than it is back home. I didn’t believe them – it didn’t match what I was seeing everyday other than lunch being at 2 and dinner being at 9. |Just like Italy’s siesta times|, I innocently thought. Hohum. The church bus that would transport the bride’s side of the wedding to the groom’s church some 20 miles away was parked in front of my family’s church at 7:30am, just as planned. |I should board the bus at 7:55 to avoid sitting too long and to ensure that we leave on time|, reasoned my American mind. (Until now, I hadn’t realized just how MUCH of an American I am.) I boarded the green bus with 2 seat rows on the right and 3 on the left. 8:15. |It’s just a few minutes late|, I reasoned. 9:25. I started becoming well aware of my emotions escalating from simply tolerant to full blown impatient. Even for me, I rarely reach the intensity of impatience I experienced at that moment. I started asking my sister, Syombua, what was taking so long. |We will be leaving in 10 minutes. Don’t worry.| The Peace Corps training staff had also warned us that Kenyans speak in a manner that is indirect. They also don’t want to displease anyone and will go to the extent of what Americans call lying. 10:30. I had long since become restless and was trying my hardest to contain any and all emotions that would have burst out at the next trigger. Luckily, the next trigger was the driver announcing that we were finally leaving, at 11:03 no less. I felt a huge wave of relief wash over me and I thought to myself how my patience had been tested. If this keeps up, I will be returning to California one of the most patient men around. Green tiered hills to the right marked the shambas (farms) and to the left stretched as far as the eye can see is savanna and the Mombasa Road. The bus was filled with songs, and I could only catch little words like wewe (you), nini (what, and katika (in). Carrying about 3 dozen Kenyans and 1 mazungu, the bus began straining up the winding mountain dirt road. When we pulled up in front of the church, we were greeted, loudly, by the groom’s side of the church. (I say church because weddings here are not the bride and groom’s family and friends but rather the family as well as their entire churches.) One by one, we all exited the bus but I hanged back for I knew what would happen once I exited. MAZUNGU MAZUNGU MAZUNGU!!!, the kids shouted as I came out. It’s entertaining at times to see people in such delight over someone’s skin color and what they believe about mazungus. What delights me even further is the fact that most of the Kenyan children will run and scream if I make a movement that indicates the beginning of a chase. The church is filled and the wedding is about to begin. A smartly dressed man next to me is  looking through the white program book. Guest Seating: 9:00am. Unity Candle: 11:00am. Egad, the wedding was 4 hours behind schedule Both sides of the couple came in singing, the groom’s first in a rather militarily fashion followed by the bride’s in a slow side-to-side dancing motion. The rest of the wedding was your standard run-of-the-mill wedding, just 10-20 minutes longer. After the couple put their rings on one another, the priest began his sermon that lasted well over 2 hours. I left the church and walked around the compound as soon as the priest finished his first sentence. The sun was setting and I could see the savanna glowing up from where I was. The Kenyan landscape, in its natural form, truly is beautiful. If only there weren’t an epidemic of ginormous proportions  of plastics infecting the civilized areas. Eventually, the wedding died down. The bride and the groom were to leave immediately for their honeymoon (gee, I wonder why) and we all boarded the bus back for Machakos.

Gah, there is always something more that I want to write but I only brought so many Schillings with me today that I have to end my cyber cafe session now. Hopefully, I’ll write another update soon.