Eid Experiences

I had today off, due to Eid al-Fitr, and so of course I'm blogging instead of grading those Algebra tests that are staring accusingly at me.

And what a good day it was...
- breakfast at Java: delicious, albeit slightly bitter. I had lost a bet and had to purchase someone else's meal too. But at least the food was good, and the company didn't rub my nose in the loss...
- helping a friend learn to drive here: a good day for a leisurely excursion, with the purple jacaranda trees in bloom and the flame trees not yet gone. I got to enjoy the beautiful place in which I live, and he didn't wreck my car. Win-win.
- Hand & Foot tournament: oh, my dear NerdBoys back in Los Alamos, would you believe that I willingly chose to participate in several hours of playing a game? Miracles never cease. Another miracle- I did OK. And never cried. Not even once.
- a little catchup grading: helps me feel ready for next week's CFS trip (pictures from last year here).
- And finally, supper at Village Market, the shopping center nearby.

Now there's the part worth blogging about. There's a significant Somali population in Nairobi, generally Muslim, and today's holiday (end of Ramadan) brought them all out in style. Intricately woven head coverings, long-long-long skirts with golden ruffles peeking out the bottom, heaps of makeup and jewelry beneath scarves, tall skinny adolescent boys trying to look like men, scowling fathers, fluttering mothers, and all packed into the outdoor food court. I've never seen the place so full.

Lining up is definitely a Western cultural value that sometimes does and sometimes doesn't transfer here. Tonight, there was no transferring. I politely stood behind one woman, waiting to order my food, when 5 more crowded around me, grabbed my elbows, and scooted me backward out of their way. It didn't even interrupt their flow of their conversation. I found it hard to be patient, forgiving, and culturally sensitive when I had been craving this particular chicken sandwich for 2 hours... Eventually I shoved hard enough myself to get up to the counter, but then waiting for my food also involved trying to decide whether I really wanted to share my very small table with the groups of Somali men who kept coming by and asking if they could join me. Again, personal space and anti-social signals like reading a book alone are lost in a more communal culture, especially on a crowded party night. Eventually I scarfed my sandwich and bolted, overwhelmed by the noise of the special band hired for the occasion, the swarm of skirt-clad bodies, and the stares of so many.

But school will start again tomorrow, I'm refreshed from a day off, and life will regain its normal rhythm. Especially if I get back to those algebra tests.