The pavement ended. As dust started coming in the matatu window, the conductor said something to me in Swahili. I thought he told me to close the window (the Swahili words for “open” and “close” sound similar to me). But, incredibly he wanted me to open it even more. I complied, even though it didn’t seem to make any sense. I’ve learned the truth of the adage, “never underestimate the wisdom of local knowledge”.
As we drove along, I gazed curiously out the window. Herds of a small breed of “aran” (goats) were absolutely everywhere. It was fun to watch them scamper around with their tiny legs. There were a few interestingly constructed shelters and houses, made of numerous sticks standing vertically next to each other in rows.
