The Comforts of Comfort

So one thing I am not in Kenya is comfortable. No matter how much fun I'm having or how great I feel, I'm still not ever comfortable. Whether it's because I don't understand cultural differences or because the thought of eating another plate of rice makes me want to stab myself in the eye or the jarring, roller coaster-eque matatu rides I take daily...I'm just not comfortable. But that's ok. One thing I've learned here is how insistent Americans are on their own personal comfort. Maybe not all Americans, but I know I sure was/am (although I don't really have a choice here).

People think their comfort is the most important thing in the entire world. I mean, we complain when it's hot, we complain when it's cold, we complain when we're hungry, we complain when we're full, we complain when someone cuts us off in traffic or when they're going too fast or too slow. We complain about everything because we think our comfort is the most important thing in everyone else's world. I'm realizing it really isn't.

I think I'm more guilty of this than anyone. Growing up in America you learn that literally anything you want is available to you almost any time you want it. There is little to nothing that we can't have or can't get. I realized how much I depend on my own comfort about a month before I left for Kenya. There were these shoes I really liked at Old Navy, they were really cute and comfortable and I didn't have to wear socks with them, and I always have to wear socks with shoes, so I was super excited to get them and wear them in Kenya with my capris and be a super styling American missionary :) I found them at an Old Navy in Cincinnati but they didn't have my size in the color I wanted, so I went home and checked online. They didn't have them there either. So I called all of the Old Navy's in a 30 mile radius and sure enough, none of them had the shoes I wanted. I was seriously upset. I remember being alone in my apartment, searching eBay and Amazon and every website I could think of to find a pair of these shoes and I couldn't find them anywhere, and then starting to freak out because these shoes literally no longer existed. I remember sitting there going on and on  (yes out loud, and yes I was alone, yes I was talking to myself don't judge) about how this is America and what kind of capitalistic democracy is this if I can't find one single pair of shoes that I want!? I should be able to find anything that I want, I mean, I'm in America for goodness sakes!

Yes I realize this was a bit of an overreaction. And I actually ended up finding a pair of the shoes I wanted haha So I can't say I learned my lesson. But I did realize that I am a ridiculous, spoiled, selfish American. I was actually surprised and upset when I didn't get exactly what I wanted. And that's not the first time that's happened. I think I am probably one of the most easily disappointed people on the planet. My entire day can be ruined because the Blue Chip Cookie store at the mall is out of M&M sugar cookies. How ridiculous is that?

But people in Kenya simply aren't like that. Not just because they can't afford it, but because they don't expect to be comfortable or catered to at every turn. Even middle class Kenyans live in some pretty rough conditions. Their transportation options are awful, at best. No one has their own car, they ride matatus everywhere, and it's never a fun of comfortable ride. It's literally always painful at some point, whether you hit your head on the roof or your knees on the seat in front of you or someone elbows you in the head or the driver decides that roads are more of a suggestion than a necessity. You can never get on one and expect a smooth, injury free ride.

Their restaurants are sketchy to say the least. Over half the time they don't have 75% of their menu. They just don't have it. Some days they have fish, some days they have chicken, some days they have beef, but rarely do you ever get the option of all 3. Whenever you order you have to have at least a Plan B, if not a Plan C, and you can never get excited about eating anything because chances are, they won't have whatever it is you want. No restaurant in America could survivie like that. People would be outraged if they couldn't eat exactly what they ordered. The whole concept of "the customer is always right" is completely ridiculous here. You take what you can get and you're thankful for it.

The restaurants are also insanely terrifying for a germophobe (luckily I don't suffer from that condition), people get food poisoning all the time and it's just no big deal. It's part of life. I heard some Kenyans talking about a prayer they say before they eat sometimes, something about God thank you for this food, please don't let it hurt us, Amen. They said it kind of as a joke, but they were serious. You really never know when the water or the fruit or the meat is going to make you crazy sick. If anyone gets food poisoning in America the entire judicial system comes crashing down on whatever poor restaurant owner accidentally bought a bad piece of beef.

I don't really have any sort of big, serious point here, except to say that being in Kenya has made me realize how focused I am on my own comfort, my own pleasurse, my own everything. I'm not saying that it has changed drastically, I mean I'm more aware of it now, but I still catch myself focusing on what I want or what I think I need or how I feel. I guess that's not something that ever goes away, especially for an American. But I really pray that by the time I get back I'll be more comfortable with being uncomfortable.