We had now been sitting in traffic for just over an hour.  But this time it wasn’t moving.  At all.  My cell phone battery was dying fast as I kept refreshing the score of the champions league semi-final match.  In my defense, the hotel was a five minute drive once we got through the roundabout.  Outside water was flowing at an alarming pace through the deep gutter crashing into white rapids just a few hundred feet in front of us.  It’s the rainy season so we didn’t share much concern for our safety, rather our bed time before a full day of conferencing and networking.

Our vigilent guide, Richard, gave us the 10-4 on the situation that seemed to have remained constant for almost two hours. He pointed left and revealed two uneven, unending rows of cars submerged to and past their windows.  Then proudly proclaimed that we were going to move forward, in the opposite direction, on the same road that had taken so many hostages.  Our driver bravely started up the engine, swiftly moved past the losers in front of us and took an uphill left straight into the danger zone.  In a classic, “I think I can” situation we timidly, though persistently, and painfully slowly started making progress.  Our ability to defy the odds seemed promising until, of course, it didn’t.  The bus lost momentum, lost consciousness, and started to float backward with the river.  At one last fateful attempt to move forward, we restarted the engine only to hear it die with a loud sputtering and knocking.  Emergency brake in place, we sealed our fate for the next two hours.

We sat helplessly as the river of sewage picked up speed and volume. Water started filling the bus at what felt like centimeters every minute.  A bus full of 12 strangers all in Nairobi to network and build partnerships, now entered crisis mode.  Outside cars, motor cycles and matatus failed one by one as the flow pushed harder.  People started bailing from their cars to make it to higher ground.  We sat there brainstorming, and fearing the worst .  Perched in one of the more dangerous areas of town, leaving the bus didn’t provide a plausible option for overall personal safety.  

As time passed the level subsided to within two feet around the bus, but the current maintained its force.  Cops came hassling us about our situation and complicating our plight.  Several large military trucks waked us in their efforts to move forward, but to no avail.  Having somewhat accepted our new overnight accommodations, we were pleased to hear our new plan, delivered by our fearless leader, Richard.  He had called a pick up truck to rescue us from the flood.  The problem was, however, that ahead of us a bridge had collapsed allowing the full rage of an actual river to prevent any vehicles from moving in our direction.  After a bit of discussion we finalized our plan:

1. Jump out of bus (into heavy current of shitty river).

2. Walk up river, beyond collapsed bridge, to rescue vehicle. 

3. Drive to safe, warm, clean hotel. 

Richard decided to test the water.  He stepped out knee deep into the water and started walking forward.  He stopped about 30 feet in front of the bus and began wrestling with a tree to get a long walking stick to assess the surrounding terrain.  After about 20 minutes he got back in the bus and declared it was unsafe for us to leave. 

A bus full of helpless mzungus seemed like trouble waiting to happen.  We were now very aware of the danger in being the sitting ducks.  With mixed feelings from the group, it was decided: We geared up for the walk.  It was 1:45am.  I changed from business casual into my running clothes and shoes, tied up my bag, and was the first to jump out. One by one we made our way off the bus, extremely cautious of our belongings- a concern only second in priority to our stability in walking forward.  We received comments, warnings, and jeers from the locals as we made our way up stream.  Just after 2:15am we saw the light at the end of the tunnel.  In our last stretch to make it to the truck, we had to cross the collapsed bridge. On our side of the road the ground was solid, but slightly uneven.  On the other side a massive step function of river moving from its normal course through the new path of least resistance.  

Once we were in the pick up there was a collective sigh of relief sensing an end to our unwanted adventure.  We reached the hotel by 3:00, entered the beautiful, unsoiled lobby of the Crowne Plaza, and after checking in shared a round of fist bumps and weary laughs in exhausted content.