50 Cent One, You Are John Travolta

11/08/05

I love Mama Liz, but I am really getting tired of the food here, everything but the fruit and vegetables. It's just all so greasy and heavy. Anyway, I ate it quickly and we set off at 7:30am, down the A1, past Kanga Center, up through some rat routes, past Mzee Jim (who asked if his picture was ready), and then to this lady's house. Her kids were outside, running, playing, she took us in. I filmed Robert counseling her. It was a beautiful 2.8 with some wonderful textures thrown out of focus behind her head. It was a quick session, and as we were walking back, Robert said 'I wish I could crack that nut." He explained that even though all the signs of AIDS were in her husband when he died, she has continuously refused to be tested because of her fear of stigmatization. But he said that this time she seemed closer than ever to agreeing to get tested.

I went to Kisii. The account is finally open, Peter from the bank called to tell me just as I was walking up to the doors. I went to email and found a much better response from contacts for this trip to Uganda compared to the last. I am excited to go. Excited is a difficult word to use there, but I've deliberated, and I think it is the correct one.

I was nervous on the way back. I had to lug jumbo bottles of water up the hill to the main drag (the nice thing about KisiiMatt is that it was a down hill walk with the water) to the small matatu stage just next to Uhuru Plaza (where the internet holes are.) The Migori/Sirare line leaves from the end. But usually there are three or four of them lined up just on the street before the park, and these ones generally get full faster (so leave quicker.) Well today, as I was walking up the hill, about to get to the first bus that looked full enough to board, a police car pulled up on the street and all the illegal matatus scrambled (it was pretty funny, the touts were running down the road trying to catch their half full bus that was driving away.) So I had to lug up to the actual stage. The bus there only had maybe four passengers and the driver. There was a lady in the front row, and then one lady in the second row, and two guys in the fourth row. The fifth row and the third row were empty. I sat in row three. I knew it was going to be a long wait for the bus to leave, so I took out the newspaper and started to read. The cover story as always is about the constitutional memorandum which is coming up, there have been people killed at two rallies in the last few days, four people and then two people, three of the them school boys. I usually skip past that and move on to the health news, the world news and then the short stories about the brutal crime in the country. The bus wasn't full, but it pulled away, which I found odd. Then I got to a story about a guy who had just died as a result of gun shot wounds sustained during a matatu hijacking the week before. In Migori district. The jackers had boarded the bus as passengers and then waited for an opportune moment, pulled out their guns, taken all of the passenger's belongings, kicked them off the bus, and then rode away. The tout was being questioned in connection. Just then one of the passengers behind me leaned in and asked the tout something. I turned and looked back at them. Uh-oh. They weren't market mamas or business babas, they were thugs. Ragged 50 Cent shirts under puffy jackets. I had just changed $750. I had my canon ELPH. I was going to get shot in the belly. This is why we left before the bus was full. No one ever leaves before the bus was full. We were going to be robbed. Me and the mama sitting in front of me and the lady sitting in front of her. The tout was in on it. Even if the driver wasn't, it would still be three against one. I was doomed. Obviously, nothing happened, although I did frequently fantasize (another strange word choice I realize) about the feeling of the cold steel against the back of my neck when 50 Cent One pulled out his gun. And then we would hit a speed bump and it would be just like Pulp Fiction. I am Marvin, 50 Cent One, you're John Travolta.

BACK