Kenyan Transportation
1. Took Took- (lost picture with camera) basically a motorcycle with a carriage on the back
2. Boda Boda- (lost picture with camera) bicycle taxi. Boda Boda drivers, who I lazily refer to as Bodae, are pretty funny dudes. The funniest thing about them is that they are grown men riding around on bikes with pink puffy seat cushions on the back, and outrageous wheel spoke accessories that would make Pee Wee Herman cry in jealousy.
3. Matatu- Let me try to give you a glimpse into the ridiculous world of the matatu business. Kenya doesn't have a public transportation system, so here it is all private business. Where Philly has SEPTA, Kenya has matatus, bodae, and took tooks. And since most Kenyans can't afford the automobile, transportation is a highly lucrative/fiercely competitive business.
I have lived in both urban and rural sections of this beautiful country, and no place is safe from the wrath of the matatu. In Nairobi, matatus jam pack the streets all hours of the day, causing much stress for everyone. Yet, I believe the matatus in the countryside cause much more chaos, given that there is only one paved road (I use the term "paved" lightly. By "paved", I mean "not mud").
The word matatu is swahili for "decrepid old van used as a taxi."
Matatu Driver' Job Description:
- Operating matatu at highest possible speed at all times
- Barely dodging large potholes and small children
- Running Bodae of the road
- Honking horn every couple seconds for no reason at all
- In case of a horn malfunction, rolling down the window and cursing in your native tribal speak is both accepted and highly encouraged
- (Only in rural Kenya) Ending your work day at sundown to avoid being robbed and murdered by the bandits who lay on the side of the road at night waiting to pillage
But the matatu driver is not alone. He has a henchmen in the back, collecting money from the passengers. His job title is called the matatu conductor, as in "hey let's CONDUCT an experiment to see how many Kenyans we can fit into a (expletive) van!"
Matatu Conductor's Job Description:
- Wearing a maroon vest and pants
- Hanging out the open sliding door at 90 km per hour, holding on with one hand
- Paying off the corrput Kenyan police when they see his matatu is carrying triple the amount of people allowed in a vehicle by law
- Being unnecessarily loud and obnoxious
- Finding muzungus at matatu stops any getting them into the matatu by using any means possible (pleading, begging, grabbing/pulling)
- Once muzungus are in the matatu, rippping them off as much as humanly possible
If you consider yourself a fan of personal space, then you will absolutely rue the day you ever step foot on a matatu. The most people I have shared a matatu is 23. This ride included 3 people hanging out the sliding glass door, grown men lying across people's laps, and the child and the chicken of the lady sitting next to me placed securely on each one of my legs. Other favorite rides include one matatu driver being so drunk that he fell asleep at one of the stops, the drunk passenger who was simultaneously hanging out the sliding door and asking me why Americans think Kenyans are so stupid, and the time some lady's chicken was going so insane that the lady decided it would be best for everyone in the matatu if she ripped its head off. So that's what she did.
Here's a few shots of some gansta ish
But above of the bling.....
Praise the good Lord4. Peugeots
This section of the blog is dedicated to self-proclaimed Chatam Park Dunkball legend Brian Kane, who has put up with my silly antics for too damn long. 
The symbol of integrity
The symbol of integrity For the lucky few in this country who are able to afford an autombile in this country, the brand of choices are limited. But if you want a car with the best combination of class, style, and power, there is only one choice my friend: the Peugeot. I am not positive, but the I studied French at the prestigious Penn State-Delaware County campus, and I believe the word Peugeot is French for "the greatest car of all time, ever."
Ok, so the last two sentences were complete lies. But it's true, Peugeots are very popular here. I took a bus to downtown Nairobi after landing at the airport, and I remember seeing a huge sign with a Peugeot emblem on it. At the time, I didn't know if I was actually seeing the sign for a Peugeot dealership, or was just hallucinating from jet lag and lack of sleep after spending a full day on a plane.
The reason I am writing about this brand of car is because I spent much time in high school riding in one. My old friend Brian Kane used to own a blueish- grey Peugeot station wagon. This car represented a rich history of dudes who went to my high school and drove horrendous automobiles: DiJulia's "Boardmobile", Bruno's "Blue Bomber", Sir Richard F. Crowley's "Battle Wagon", Lesovitz's poop-brown Dodge Aries that didn't even deserve a nickname, etc. Kane traded his cousin two McDonald's cheeseburgers for "The Peuge." Not even kidding.
I have no idea where or how his cousin acquired The Peuge. My guess is he lost a bet. I can still remember asking Kane for the first time where his cousin got that awful car from, and he replied with something like: "well my friend, it was a cold day, and there was a terrible storm approaching on the horizon. The sky was black and the winds were howling. Then suddenly, the clouds opened up and out of nowhere, the hands of God came down from the sky and gently placed The Peuge in front of my cousin's house." Not even kidding.
The truth is, God would've wanted nothing to do with this vehicle. I actually just looked up the word Peugeot in the French dictionary, and it is translated as "mobile dumpster." I used to make Kane happy by agreeing with him that The Peuge looked great, and the ladies really dug it. I would also act like I believed him when he would tell me there was no need to stop at the gas station when you are in the Peuge, because The Peuge only ran on love. Not even kidding.
In all honesty, I will always have much love for The Peuge. I was just saying all of those mean things because when Kane reads this, he will be very upset and angry, and that in of itslef will bring me great joy. The truth is, I have so many great memories of riding in the Peuge, most of which involve throwing trash/eggs/snowballs at people, yelling at the elderly, and terrorizing all of Fairmount Park.
Arguably The Peuge's most glorious moment came when Kane cheated death one morning on the drive into school. The daily no-holds-barred race to school usually started at the Mann Music Center at 52nd and Parkside, and by "started" I mean "turned from friendly little race into a life-threatening competition." I used to get rides in from all different kids to school, but one thing was constant among all the drivers: whenever they saw the Peuge in their rearview mirror, they would curse Kane under their breath and then say a silent prayer, because they knew they were going to go through hell if they were going to beat the Peuge to school.
So one morning, there was about a ten car race up concourse to Girard Avenue. I was in Bruno's supremely haggard "Blue Bomber", which looked and ran like it got caught in one too many acid-rain storms. We were waiting under the Girard Bridge at the light across the street from the Philly Zoo, waiting to turn left onto Girard Ave. I remember Bruno saying that he could care less about winning, he just wanted to beat The Peuge. But Kane had different plans. Sitting in last place and desperate to win, Kane gunned it when the light turned green and went the wrong way through the Girard Ave Bridge underpass, looking like Gene Hackman in "The French Connection," and survived without a scratch to The Peuge. It's still to this day one of the most ridiculous things I have ever seen. So cheers Bri-Guy, and long live The Peuge.
Look at that beautiful baby
This is a nice picture of Brian Kane's most-favorite automobile and least-favorite person Farewell
Alright folks, my days of blogging are now officially over. Ending this blog talking about Peugeouts and making fun of Brian Kane has truly been a dream come true. I compare the feeling to how John Elway felt when he retired right after winning two consecutive super bowls. I would continue to keep the blog going, but I doubt anyone really wants to see pics of me eating Jano's pizza until I get sick and going around Baltimore picking fights with Ravens fans.
I hope you have enjoyed the pics I have put on the blog. Kenya and its people make even a novice photographer like myself take some classic shots. Some of the stuff I have seen in the past 8 months has been literally mind-blowing. Half of this country's residents live under the poverty line. That's 16 million people in one country alone. After doing the work I have done since coming to Kenya, going back to work a desk job just doesnt appeal to me. I think I have found the profession I want to pursue. You guessed it: competitive bodybuilder/freelance romance novelist.
But I am going to use this last paragraph to actually say something serious for the first time on this blog full of silly pictures and unfunny comments. I recommend that, at some point in your lives, you travel to Africa and see how people live here. It will definitely make you think differently about your situation. Americans have a lot to learn from Kenyans, mostly in regards to what really matters in life, and where true happiness should be derived from. Take care of yourselves, look out for one another, and always remember:
"It's in the shelter of each other that people live"
--Irish proverb (thanks Kerry)
