Attention all bridesmaids!

Wondering what to do with that shiny, satin dress now that the party is over?! Send it to Kenya! The ladies love love love those fancy dresses. And they wear them everyday. I'm the sorriest dressed person in the land, with my muzungu (white person) cotton t-shirts and cropped pants. Every day is formal day here, and it is more common to see a well-coiffed, highly embellished woman waltz out of a mud hut than not.

This land is all about contrasts. Fancy hair and starched, pressed clothes leading a goat down the road. Cell phone and electronics dukkas (small kiosk shops) amongst hunger and famine. Shiny BMWs beside rickety boda bodas (bicycle taxis). And widespread corruption amongst people so incredibly principled.

After my last post I was on the matatu returning home, mesmerized by a rainbow so bright I honestly think I could have touched it if I could get close enough. Daydreaming, I missed my stop at Makunga and ended up in Shianda. On a returning matatu we slowed at a stop to see a large gathering of people around a man who was lying on the ground. He was bleeding from his head, and his clothes were torn exposing large gashes on his legs. I picked up a bit of the other passengers conversations, who were speaking a mix of Kiswahili and English (Kiswahili is spoken in many African countries, and is a language born of African tribal tongue and Arabic). I heard "mob justice", "thieving" and "beat him", and came to realize that this man was meeting his end at the hand of the crowd. I watched in horror as the passengers told me with great conviction that the man would be beaten to death on account of stealing. I didn't know what to think. We continued along the road to my stop - which of course was at the end of the rainbow - and I got off, feeling odd with my sense of safety and security in this land of pride.