I Hear You Knockin' But You Can't Come In
Saturday and Sunday were spent preparing for the show. Saturday, Vitalis, the driver, and I went into town to buy fabrics and scissors, a guest book and floor mats, curtain hangars, etc. Back at school, the director indicates he’s ready to go see the exhibit, so we drive out. Immediately, he disapproves of the dead-gray gravel. The director reminds Simon, our landscaper, that we paid for new gravel and we want to see new, clean gravel. Simon assures the director it will be done. Other than the gravel, the director is pleased with the progress of the exhibit.
Sunday, I arrive at TICH at 10am and begin collecting tables and chairs and charts and potted plants to take to the show. Vitalis and I enter classes in session to carry out display tables and padded chairs. We carry and haul and load and unload during two trips to the show. After setting everything in place, we anticipate arriving Monday morning to put all goods, posters and tablecloths in place.
Today, when we reach the showgrounds, all gates are locked, except for one at the back of the arena. It’s madness, with people walking all along the entrance roads and vehicles of all sizes blocking the road to the gate. Folks waiting to be hired for odd jobs clutter the road and gateway. Two men stand outside the gate, screening entrants. It’s Pre-Show, which means each vehicle must pay 2000 shillings ($26 USD), an extremely ridiculous amount to enter the show, and each person must pay 70 shillings. Everyone is standing in the way, the guy doing the screening is mad and being torn in a thousand directions. Total chaos. Total disorganization. Plus I’m peeved because the show manager, George, did not communicate this would be a pre-show day where the general public can get onto the grounds and where we have to pay just to get to our booth to complete preparations.
I step out of the van and talk to the big guy and I’m ranting because we just want to get to our booth to setup and blah, blah, blah. There’s nothing more disconcerting to Kenyans than to see a white person standing in the middle of a big crowd yelling and pointing and demanding satisfaction. The guy lets our vehicle through to talk to George in the manager’s office. At least we’re able to drop the painter, Peter, at the stand so he can begin work. But the manager’s office is more chaotic than the gate and we can’t get near the manager. So we retreat from the maddening crowd, returning to TICH where I put in a requisition for the 2000 shillings to go back to the show and finish our stand.
Nothing from accounts. Wait an hour. Nothing. Wait two hours. Nothing. Do these people want to compete in this show or not? They say “go for it” and the director says “YES” to everything I’ve requested, but getting 2000 shillings to get back into the show isn’t happening from accounts. So I give up and plan the next day’s To-Do list, telling Vitalis we’ll get to the show grounds early since it’s our last day to complete the stand.
Sunday, I arrive at TICH at 10am and begin collecting tables and chairs and charts and potted plants to take to the show. Vitalis and I enter classes in session to carry out display tables and padded chairs. We carry and haul and load and unload during two trips to the show. After setting everything in place, we anticipate arriving Monday morning to put all goods, posters and tablecloths in place.
Today, when we reach the showgrounds, all gates are locked, except for one at the back of the arena. It’s madness, with people walking all along the entrance roads and vehicles of all sizes blocking the road to the gate. Folks waiting to be hired for odd jobs clutter the road and gateway. Two men stand outside the gate, screening entrants. It’s Pre-Show, which means each vehicle must pay 2000 shillings ($26 USD), an extremely ridiculous amount to enter the show, and each person must pay 70 shillings. Everyone is standing in the way, the guy doing the screening is mad and being torn in a thousand directions. Total chaos. Total disorganization. Plus I’m peeved because the show manager, George, did not communicate this would be a pre-show day where the general public can get onto the grounds and where we have to pay just to get to our booth to complete preparations.
I step out of the van and talk to the big guy and I’m ranting because we just want to get to our booth to setup and blah, blah, blah. There’s nothing more disconcerting to Kenyans than to see a white person standing in the middle of a big crowd yelling and pointing and demanding satisfaction. The guy lets our vehicle through to talk to George in the manager’s office. At least we’re able to drop the painter, Peter, at the stand so he can begin work. But the manager’s office is more chaotic than the gate and we can’t get near the manager. So we retreat from the maddening crowd, returning to TICH where I put in a requisition for the 2000 shillings to go back to the show and finish our stand.
Nothing from accounts. Wait an hour. Nothing. Wait two hours. Nothing. Do these people want to compete in this show or not? They say “go for it” and the director says “YES” to everything I’ve requested, but getting 2000 shillings to get back into the show isn’t happening from accounts. So I give up and plan the next day’s To-Do list, telling Vitalis we’ll get to the show grounds early since it’s our last day to complete the stand.
posted by Cindi at 9:17 AM
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