Mutomo: First Impressions

Arriving in Mutomo, all the exhilaration and inflated sense of heroism is gone. The buck stops here. It’s hot and dusty. Reality hits. My Canadian volunteer counterpart and I are here for the duration—there’s no going back. She’s homesick; there are bugs and geckos in her room. I’m overwhelmed by the heat, the lack of screens or fans, the condition of the refrigerator (which didn’t seem to cool off even hours after turning it on).

Another volunteer accompanied us to the open market, which lacks quaintness. Goats and emaciated livestock wander into the road causing traffic jams. We stick out like lice in a scalp of black hair. Children greet us with the few words of English they wish to practice. People laugh at out attempts to ask for items and overcharge us to see if we’ll bargain. Or they beg. 

But this is Africa. This is what we’re here to experience; it’s not all safari lodges and Kenyan charm. This morning the Islamic Call to Prayer woke me out of my sweaty nightmares. Reminding me that God takes us where we need to be. And to give thanks for the opportunity to serve.