matatu ride

Op het gevaar af mensen te vervelen; het gaat alweer over taal, the languages people speak here are amazing. Debra, the daughter of the curio shopkeeper, is 2 years old and already speaks more Kiswahili than I do (I know, I know, not like that says anything). Maar wat wil je, in een land met 2 officiele talen en 42 tribes met ieder hun eigen taal.

This morning Julia, Kanzo and I got into the matatu heading to Kajiado. We took a small sort of pick-up truck (with cover though). Because there is no soko in Kajiado the matatu was fairly empty, just the matatu guy, a woman with her two kids and us. Kanzo was hilarious, like most people here he can never be quiet. So after asking us twenty questions about our plans for the day, and sensing that I didn't have a lot to say and that julia wanted to listen to music (seven thirty in the morning... go figure), he moved on to the next person. So he strikes up this whole conversation with the other woman. Turns out she Kumba, not Masaai, and so he spends the entire matatu ride learning Kikumba. They both speak Kiswahili, and so from there they discuss the food situation, the drought. Kanzo teaches them how people greet around here, and she teaches him Kikumba phrases. And I, speaking neither Kikumba, Kimasaai or Kiswahili, try to pick up random words. It was a good ride though. Watching the land get greener the closer we get to Kajiado, learning bits and pieces of kiswahili.