The pair of dueling baboons from my bed the night before last had moved into my stomach yesterday, and today they engaged in a vigorous and obviously well-matched bout nearly all day long. Needless to say, their presence in my stomach was not helpful during a very bumpy 8-hour bus ride punctuated by only three restroom breaks and zero toilets. We took the Easy Coach back to Nairobi, and I can't quite decide whether to be disappointed, relieved, or disappointed about it. Ryan had promised us a ride on the mid-level bus line that hauls all manner of people to and from all manner of places, stopping along the side of the road for bartering with local vendors. Since the prospect was first introduced to me in 2009, I've been looking forward to my third-world bus experience with chickens on my lap and pigs at my feet surrounded by shouting natives, and once again, the novelty escaped me. On the other hand, in my current state of intestinal agitation, I doubt that my coveted bus experience would have been much fun at all. On the other other hand, we were still on a bus, when we could have been on a shuttle like the one that brought us here in the first place, which would have been much faster, much smoother, and much more likely to make emergency baboon-in-the-stomach stops (or look-there's-an-actual-baboon-on-the-side-of-the-road stops, for that matter). While I'm certain that the length of the ride was intensified by my personal discomfort, it was nonetheless the most uneventful of my four trips to or from Western Kenya.
An uneventful ride, however, does not necessarily amount to a ride bearing nothing about which to write. After all, the roadside is speckled with all sorts of hapless misappropriations of english, making this a perfect opportunity for the obligatory "look-at-how-you-people-butcher-the-english-language-even-though-we'd-butcher-your-language-even-more-if-we-tried-to-use-it-but-we-don't-have-to-because-everyone-in-the-world-should-speak-english-so-we-get-to-ridicule-you-all-we-want-ha-ha-good-fun" post.
Adventures in English on the ride from Webuye to Nairobi begin before you even set foot on the bus. Right next door to the Easy Coach station is the Website Inn of Webuye (as opposed to the Website Inn of anywhere else in the whole wide world). While I'm told that they make excellent food, I seriously doubt that they have a website. Roadside establishment commonly boast of being hotels, nevermind the fact that the most desperate of travelers would still probably rather sleep in a ditch. Perhaps the second most common of roadside enterprises are the butcheries, such as Destiny Butchery. Shrewdly, the owners of Destiny Butchery have omitted the details of whose destiny is implied, and just what that destiny entails. Frequently, however, the two coincide, as there are numerous Hotel/Butchery signs, and I assume that this is something akin to having a meat pie store downstairs from a barber shop.
Wherever signs are displayed, they are loud and proud. We passed a freeway overpass bearing an advertisement for Turkey Driving School, where the participants are either large birds, or people about to be shipped to the Middle East. A large banner near ByGrace advertises for an Irish Dentist. I had to fight the urge to schedule an appointment, considering that I haven't been to the dentist in years, and everyone knows that the Irish ones are by far the best thanks to the whiskey and Lucky Charms.
Mottos are also local favorites. On the back window of a local bus was a sticker reading "We do our best." Outdone only by a hotel slogan moments later boasting "Better than the best." Having a motto is so highly regarded, that many establishments with mottos will not only feature the motto below the name of the enterprise, but alongside the slogan will proudly feature the label "Motto". One of the pastors in Bungoma, Judy, helps run a school, boldly displaying above the door "Motto: Education Has No Age Limit." Another favorite was the Baptist Precious Academy, with a sign reading "Motto: Paramount and Excel." Correct me if I'm wrong, but I do believe that in this case the word 'paramount' would have to be a verb. It's not. Certainly the favorite, however, is a favorite as much for its name as for its motto. PMSGroup, in Nairobi, features a slogan reading "All Round Marketing Expertise". It is to the credit of their marketing expertise that their slogan does not actually have its own label. However, I can't help but wonder if the marketing expertise is being offered by cantankerous women who are "all round".
Despite all of the misuse of language, I must say that the writers maintain the highest degree of politeness. In the US, when you're not wanted somewhere, a sign will simply say "no loitering". One gate not only provides loiterers with a notice, but explains that the notification is as kindly stated as possible. It reads "Polite Security Notice: no parking or waiting around this gate". Even bathroom stall graffiti - notoriously the filthiest, most offensive form of written expression - is polite in Kenya. Scrawled into the door of my stall was a chicken-scratch inscription reading "enjoy relieving yourself thanx come again."
Many decorative posters for homes or restaurants also display English prowess. I recall a beautiful picture of two regal-looking, elegantly feathered birds with an inspirational message reading "The great thing in this world is not so much where we are but in what direction we are moving." Not bad, barring some ambiguity and issues with syntax. Not to be outdone, another inspirational poster (which just might have been a rip off of the 'demotivational posters' series, except it was just poorly designed enough to imply seriousness) read as follows: "Best of Luck: unconditional love may fail, but love with conditions doesn't even have a chance."
But while I'm on the subject, I must take us back in time to the Hotel Tourist Bungoma, where Mike and I stayed during my first week here. The menu at our dear hotel is the winner, hands down. Before you embark on this culinary and literary journey, I must emphasize that these menu entries have been transcribed verbatim, and there are absolutely no typos in the excerpts you are about to read. Under the "Pastries Corner" it reads: "Pasties whispering is the ecstasy chocolates flavored muffins sticky goodnite tasteful." Also, apparently 'Hot Dog', 'Meat Pie', 'Vegetable Spring Rolls', 'Chicken Spring Rolls', and 'Beef Sausages' all qualify as pastries. In the "Burgers of Your Choice" section, all items come served with the following accoutrements: "Topped on the incebergs Frenchfries and sweetened with the Magina of glazed Tomato Sauce and Sandwitched with vegetables in sason and dressed salads." I've no idea what "the magina of glazed tomato sauce" is, but if it's an attempt to make something marginally appealing sound terrifying, then congratulations, HTB, it sounds terrifying. Among the items of the burger section, the fact that you can order a 'Beef Burger', 'Chicken Burger', 'Ham Burger' (strangely, this really ought to be the proper usage of the term), or 'Vegetable Burger' suggests that if you are to order either the 'Cheese Burger' or the 'Cheese/Onions Burger', your order will include a patty that is actually made entirely out of cheese or cheese/onions, respectively. If you're in the mood for a burger, but not one of the variations listed above, the final menu item in the burgers section - and by far the most expensive - is a "Plate of romantically garnished Bacon". Tell you what, HTB, I'll enjoy a late night rendezvous by candlelight with your garnished bacon so long as you hold the Magina of glazed Tomato Sauce. Finally, the "Chips" section (in case you've forgotten, 'chips' is just British nonsense for 'french fries' - the Hotel Tourist Bungoma does not, in fact, have a section of their menu devoted to an assortment of Tostitos, Doritos, Fritos, and Cheetos, although it wouldn't surprise me that much). If you order any of the items from this section, get excited, because you'll be enjoying your chips "Erected like Ruwenzori mountains on the plate and garnished with dressed salads depicting the slopes of Cherengani hills."
I simply have nothing left to say remotely worthy of adorning that. What an absurdly disjointed blog post. I blame the baboons.
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