KPT is not derogative!
KPT stands for Kenya People Time, and it is very real. The guide books write about it, and everybody acknowledges it, but it does not really exist until you experience it.
American rap groups, most of whom have never set foot in Africa, coined the very derogative term CPT (colored people time) as yet another acronym that white people are supposed to stray from at all cost of being politically correct, but black entertainers can use at the Appolo to make other black people stomp their feet. Here it is a universally understood, "sink or swim" fact.
The Blessings-There really are no schedules, work or otherwise. With all of the traffic that plagues Nairobi it is understood that somebody may show up for a 930am meeting at noon, and that is alright. The bus does not leave at 11, 1130, and noon. The bus leaves when it is full, which some days takes much longer to fill.
The challenge as an American is to check the American tendencies at the door. Its more than patience that is needed. To survive here for even a week (let alone 2 months) and leave without an ulcer, you have to jump in and swim. Note please that this is a "blessing". Without knowing that an actual remedy existed, I have been preaching for months, nay years, that we (as Americans) need to learn how to slow down, and now we are immersed in the land of solution, but a mighty large pill it is to swallow. Simply put, it is very difficult to un-learn traits, and living by another persons circumstances is nearly impossible. This is a prelude to the curses.
The Curses-I am convinced that Kenya's national food, Nayma Choma, is not all that particularly mind altering or delicious, especially to earn the title "national food". I do love it and look forward to the event every time it is coming but the fact is that no matter where you order it is going to take 1+ hours to make. Not because it is hard to roast meat and chop a few tomatoes mind you, it is only because the person making the delicacy is on KPT. Therefore, when you are slightly hungry going into the hoop jumping that it takes to secure Choma, you are downright ready to snack on your own toes by the time it comes. This formula could make a national dish out of Ritz Crackers and Cheeze Whiz.
One needs to dig deeper into their psyche and tap the reservoir of patience that was probably last seen in your bassonet, and learn how to slow down. The answer to our pace epidemic is what I have been seeking for a long time now, but even I, in the face of an overdose of KPT at today's Choma marathon, was experiencing first hand anxieties. I didn't know if I wanted to cry, poop myself, punch the waitress in the face, or just take a shark size bite out of Kristen shoulder. All I knew was that I wanted to do something other than wait. All this and I really had nowhere else to be for the rest of the day.
I am fed now and in the comfort of our loaned apartment, eagerly awaiting the thunderstorm that is on the horizon, and very glad that I am not facing any Kenyan charges of disorderly conduct at a public facility, but I swear it was by no help of our waitress Sally, the queen of KPT-Screw that girl, cause somebody has to be at fault...I guess I haven't settled down yet.
This made me laugh! In fact, when I read, "This formula could make a national dish out of Ritz Crackers and Cheeze Whiz," I actually snorted my warm (thankfully, no longer hot) tea through my nose.
ReplyDeleteOne should not consume beverages when reading your writing!