It was early Friday evening and the rain had ceased in perfect timing, for our 45 minute trek to dinner with the rest of team. Not having a car here means we hit the pavement anytime we need to grocery shop, go to work or have team functions. Now normally this would not be too big of a deal as we are getting in the mode of walking this city and are learning the streets well.
This Friday was different, as we approached Muthaiga, a small suburb just 10 minutes from where we live, we as usual began the dart required of us to cross the busy round about that connects Muthaiga to the Super Highway. Adam, myself and about a dozen other walking commuters found a gap in the traffic and all made our move. As we approached the other side of the road and I took a step onto the 10 inch curb I realized my trek was about to end here and it would be painful.
At the same moment that I took my own step up on the muddy curb, I remember taking a look back at the woman behind me making sure she had room to step up on the curb with us all. And then it happened.
I fell as the Somali’s would say… well “Like a camel!”. I saw my feet fly up both at the same time and the rushing water of the gutter become too close for comfort. I felt the sharp edge of the curb slam into my hip bone and my hand brace for impact in the reddest, muddiest puddle of dirt I could find. With a yelp and a groan. I scrambled to get out to of the gutter as I was sure a car would be coming soon.
Adam quickly helped me to my feet and whisked my crying face and whimpering body to a nearby restroom, while I limped and held my muddy hands away from myself. I probably looked like I was straight out of a horror movie with how red the dirt is here.
Soon it was decided that the injury was a show stopper and that evening would include nothing more than me lying in bed trying to act like it didn’t hurt as much as it really did and begging Adam not to take me to the hospital. As I lie in bed recovering that evening my muddy shoes that were left outside the door to dry and were stolen, placing the cherry upon the night.
This morning as I awoke 5:30 am to start the day and enter the inner-city of Eastliegh, I thanked God that I was able to move so well again and that I would be able to get around town without pain. And upon entering Eastliegh I found people who were literally in the gutter, and they could not get out like I was able to. Like stories of old there were men crawling along the gutter begging for money. They were in the gutter just like I had been but for some reason I was able to get out.
I recently read a Facebook post from a family member of mine. She described her bad day and in the post she came to the conclusion that the day could have been a lot worse and she was thankful it wasn’t. She is right. There are good days and bad days, and Friday overall was a good day.