Hujambo!

snake-sugar
Living and working in Nairobi, Kenya

Telling the truth

It’s a terrible feeling to get caught in a lie. Today I told a small fib, then was glad I hadn’t flat out lied when the lady ended up sort of calling my bluff.

I was in San Marcos with a few hours to kill in between meeting some friends, and decided to go walk around Fry’s Electronics. As I was playing with one of the fancy new computers a lady came and introduced herself to me. It was obvious from her introduction that she wanted something. I began to mentally prepare my “let her down easily” strategy, and then she fell right into my trap when she asked, “Are you from around here?” I told her that I live in Kenya, I’m a volunteer, and I’m just home visiting family briefly.

I understand it’s not so common to run into someone in California who does, in fact, live in Kenya, so she must have thought I was lying through my teeth. That’s when she told me, “Ahhhh, I was in Zimbabwe!” What she said next threw me off again. “Do you know the Java House in Nairobi with the downstairs?” And after that, she asked me if I knew “Harvest” church. Hello? Mavuno (harvest) church on Mombasa road? I’ve been there!

She wasn’t in my trap, I was in hers! Man, I’m glad I don’t have a habit of lying, that could be really embarrassing/dangerous. I really DO live in Nairobi, and I DO know the Java House on Mama Ngina street! Ask the waitresses, I’m a regular! House coffee and a brownie, kama kawaida (like always/”the usual”)!

What a small world, eh? She ended up asking me if I knew anyone around here who was looking for part time help. Nope, sorry!

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3 comments

3 Comments to “Telling the truth”

  1. Mom says:

    Sometimes a little fib is OK if it makes things less complicated I guess.

  2. Roho Nono says:

    Next time hepa chap chap !!

  3. mwanafunzi says:

    Haha, pole! These things can catch you by surprise. I was at a horrible formal dinner in Edinburgh recently. The bloke next to me asked where I was from, I said Nairobi. HUGE mistake. He had spent 1 year in Tz 40 years ago and for the next 2 hours droned on about what was wrong with Africa, Africans, the works…….aaaarrrrgggggghhhhhh

    Finally I escaped to the next table, where a Kenyan colleague was sitting. I told her all about this jamaa in swahili, so no-one else at the table would understand! What does she do ?! She translates for the benefit of her neighbour! Neighbour says ‘yes, that’s my boss’!!

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