This past week has been very hectic, work wise - we are hosting a “consultative meeting” next Monday here in Nairobi. Up until this point, we’ve been meeting with folks independently, so this meeting is the first time that all our stakeholders will be in the same place. The purpose of the meeting is to review our findings so far, get these stakeholders familiar with each other, then get their input on our proposed operating model and deployment plan. Very exciting - but also a LOT of work and late nights preparing...which leads me to today’s story.
We’ve had early starts and pretty late finishes all week - which means my gym schedule has been a bit off and I see more people than I usually do when I work out in the early mornings. I worked out Tuesday afternoon, and when I finished, it was just before sundown. The gym is literally only a 10 minute walk, we live in a relatively safe neighborhood, and I know people who walk alone after dark, but I was still a little nervous. So, I decided to jog home. I had just started when a kid (probably 10 or 11) came up to me and asked what I was doing (I should say that it’s very “muzungo” to be going around outside in a workout outfit - no one does this). I told him that I had just finished in the gym and was trying to get a little more running done. He looked at me slyly and asked if I wanted to race. I’m thinking...of course...I can take this kid. So we set off running...and I never had a chance. I know I’m not a speed runner, but I thought I could take this kid...yeah, right. By the time I arrived at the end of the road, I was huffing and puffing, and he was just standing there smiling. I had to laugh...as I was gasping. I bought the kid a soda from the shack/shop at the end of our street and walked away much humbler...and the moral of the story, kids, is....never race a Kenyan.
Rwanda posts (and pics) coming soon....
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