Ngong Road
Apr 28th, 2009
Ngong is the main road over on “my” side of town. Daystar is on a corner of Ngong, Kibera is just a few blocks away, and it’s also close to the Kenya Film Commission. Ngong is also the first ng- Swahili word I had to learn how to say. Usually it’s easier for mzungus to just drop the N and say Gong.
Some of me grew up here 10 years ago on my first visit to Kenya, then a sophomore in college trying to find my way. We lived off a side road of Ngong, and walked it every day to the bus, Uchumi (grocery), Nando’s (bad fast food chicken), or the Total gas station for quick Cadbury snacks. Go a ways down and we’d find dinner at the first Nairobi Java House at Adam’s Arcade.
My brother and I started our production company of sorts called Pseudobook here on lonely, often electricity-less nights between games of Spades with our parents. We watched a lot of Sunset Beach, Buffy, Meego, and WWF. We lost our Grandma Lungstrum, missed our cat Babe, and often wondered what we were supposed to “do” or to “be” in Africa.
I remember one conversation on the way to YaYa Centre where it seemed we all were depressed, frustrated at finding a place in our new life. I wanted to belong here, wanted to feel at home, wanted to do more than just survive.
Our lives weren’t in danger (generally speaking), so surviving was going to happen no matter what we did, complaining or not. How then could we move beyond merely surviving, and come into, possibly, embracing our life here?
There was no answer to that question. But expressing the question seemed to help gain some sort of perspective. It helped to move beyond expressing “Gosh I hate the slow or not-working internet,” to “Why do I hate it? Why does coming from the Land Of Plenty make me so annoyed to be where things aren’t the same? Why is it so important for me to be comfortable? Why am I fashioned to expect my needs to be fulfilled, for there to be power, for there to be running water, etc.?”
Now, for those who haven’t just traveled to other cultures, but chosen to live in them will note this initial experience. It often results in this spirit of “Golly gee, my 3rd world experience made me appreciate being super rich and white even more. I sure won’t complain in the USA anymore!”
And that’s okay. It’s a natural part of taking your experience home with you, assimilating it into an otherwise American experience. It’s a bit like college kids who love to say “Yeah I spent a semester abroad” and talk so highly of that experience “changing their life” – though really those are often just great 4-month vacations hanging out with other American students drinking a lot.
My first taste of living in another culture in 1999 (aside from Australia for a couple months when I was
wasn’t the college kid study abroad story. It was something else. It was Chapter 1. And I felt that before I even came back then. I knew that living in Kenya was the start of something more than just a typical USA kid being disarmed by living with less.
And so I spent 8 years wanting to get back, waiting to get back, figuring out how to get back…And then I got back. Back to Kenya. Back to Ngong.
Today Ngong has changed quite a bit. There is 100x more traffic. Uchumi and the Total station are still there, but Nando’s has been bought out. There are also a couple of major shopping centers on Ngong, complete with movie theaters. Java House has now opened up 3 other Ngong area locations alone. It’s becoming the Starbucks of Nairobi.
I’ve loved every stop of this Kenyan adventure. The Ngong memories are always just a bit more special because of the history I have here. Now I can add the World Story Organization’s first year experiences to them. That’s pretty cool.
Tomorrow I leave Ngong to visit my friend Purity and her family before a final couple of days in Kenya with the Parkers. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I miss it already.




