Installment 19
This whole country is like living along side the railroad tracks. You know how when you first move in, all you hear is the train….coming, passing, going. After awhile, you only occasionally hear one, and then pretty soon you don’t hear them at all…partly because you have learned to read lips. Now, living along side railroad tracks is not the norm. God didn’t say “go forth and live thee by the tracks.” So, by living there, we in a sense create a new ‘norm’ for ourselves. Others come and say “how can you stand those trains coming by all the time?” And you say, “trains, what trains?” That’s the way it is here. I came, and all I saw was trains. Now I have been in country for awhile, and I find that I only see a train when I am looking for one. Soon, I’m sure that I will see no more trains. What was completely abnormal for me at first is becoming the ‘norm’. All the things that I write about are things that have struck me as abnormal. So what do I write about if they are what’s normal? Hmmm, there is Dale, coming next week with all his ‘western culture’ ways…maybe that will be abnormal and I can pick on him.
I have noticed that it is hotter here as of late. After careful study, I have concluded that because where I come from, they are having unusually cold, and are not using so much of the sun’s heat, so it must go somewhere. We are much closer to the sun, if you will carefully look at a globe, you will see that we are at the farthest out point of the ball…closer to the sun. So it only basic physics that the heat will get here first, and if it isn’t needed elsewhere….we keep it. This is working well for me, because I am always looking for something to complain about. Eliud says that it will start to cool soon. I asked what will I complain about. “I have known you for a long time,” he said “you are very creative and will find something.” “So if you want you can plan ahead, the rains will start soon.” Life will be better when it rains ….at least until it rains. Isn’t God good, He always provides something for us to complain about.
Jeff and went into town yesterday. Along the way he ask about my kidneys. “funny thing”, I responded between potholes, “they must be toughening up”. “Yes,” he said “when a mzungu dies here they take the kidneys and use them to retread tires.” “sounds about right” I replied “why stop punishing the kidneys just because someone dies.” Once in Kitali, we stopped by an agricultural shop and picked up 5 bags of greenges. Greenges are Kenya’s answer to oranges. They look like small oranges, only they are green and taste like lemons…kinda like they might have been picked too soon. Oh, I don’t blame them for picking too soon, because there is not much to do, and their lifespan is shorter, so they need to do it while they are still able…. And remember the ‘norm’ thing….the kids think that these things ARE oranges.
As a kid I don’t remember thinking that when I grow up, ‘I am going to get really excited about sand.’ Well, now I am grown up, (when Sandy is not around, I can say things like that) and right now, sand has become an obsession. Now if you look at that globe again, you will see that just a couple of inches above Kenya is the Sahara Desert. It has the largest concentration of sand in the world. But here…not so much. Because I need somewhere around 340 tons of sand for the two buildings that we want to build, it seems a no brainer that the Sahara should provide….They have too much and I have too little. After some thought, (yeah, I try it once in awhile) I came up with: a ton is 2000lbs; a camel can carry about 200lbs, this means that I only need 3400 camel loads. I’m glad I went to school….I can’t wait to tell Jeff.
Did I tell you that Adelaide (cook) was pealing potatoes and I asked her if she ever ate one raw. “No”, she exclaimed, almost falling off her stool, “I think they are poison.” I agreed and told her that I have special favor with God and He would protect me if I ate one. Then I ate one. She looked on with total concern, so I coughed and wheezed and staggered and fell down….but then miraculously revived. “How about tomatoes?” I continued. “Oh, yes, I like them very much.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that tomatoes are of the Nightshade family. Later I overheard her telling Peris (another cook) that she faked me into thinking that she thought potatoes are poisonous. I have fun with Addy, she is one of my favorites, even though I don’t think I can believe a thing she says….I just don’t get some people.
What....now there are 105
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Hatari
Installment 18
Carla was walking by me this morning. “I think we have a rat in our room.” she says in passing. (You know where I’m going with this) “I thought he was going to town”, I snickered and I could see that Toyota was grinning as well. Carla seems to love Jeff and really didn’t enjoy my humor. So, being the coward I am, I slithered away quietly. I know that she will forgive me, she is a Christian. Anyway, there really was a rat in their room. Jeff put on his safari hat and bravely walked right up to one of the Aunties and asked if she ever seen the inside of his room. Now, she has been with Instep for awhile, and has learned some of Jeff’s Swahili and a pretty good rendition of his look. Jeff is not slow, and seemed to get the message. So, he screwed up his courage and entered the room and closed the door. What happened next sent shivers down my spine. There was crashing of furniture and the sounds of whacking and some high pitched squealing. It was awful. After awhile, Jeff came out proudly showing his trophy. He said that he might go into town and find a taxidermy shop tomorrow. He also apologized for the squealing….said he hoped no-one heard. I just told him it sounded alittle like Michael Jackson. That made him feel better.
The ‘steama’ has been out more than usual lately. Steama being electricity. It was a good investment to get that generator. It has really helped the aunties at night with the babies….and might be what saved Jeff from some severe physical damage with the auntie this morning. Anyway as you know, it has been Instep against KPLC, with mostly KPLC winning. Some of the problem has been right here on the compound. The power comes into a building and goes thru some thingamabobs before it goes to the meter. The thingamabobs are property of KPLC. They have been loose and causing some of the blackouts. Jeff: “hey Alex, do you happen to have the president of KPLC’s number, I seem to have displaced it?” Alex: “I am right behind you, may I be of assistance?” J explained the problem, and Alex sent 3 guys out to trouble shoot. #1: “I see no problem here.” “That’s because it’s dark because there is no electricity” says Jeff. “Oh, let me fix it.” #1 says, “it seems to be on your side of the meter, there is no electricity there.” …and so it went. They did correct some of the problem, but not quite all of it…after all “Good Service is Your Right”. On the way out, # 2 saw and heard our new generator running and asked what it was and what it did. “Hmmmm, imagine that” he says “and you say that electricity comes out and goes through that funny little rope hanging out of it.” And then they left. I know it’s hard to believe, but if it weren’t for battery power, you’d be saved from this rot tonight.
I came 3 ½ weeks ago with high hopes of starting a building project. I am beginning to understand why the life span is shorter here….you can’t accomplish anything anyway, so why hang around. I did meet with what I am beginning to think of as the prime contractor today. We are getting closer. I only hope that my grandkids will live to see the work start….just kidding! I am getting some ducks in a row and hopefully getting ahead of the project enough to head off most of the problems. Besides the ducks look cute waddling in a line.
Oh, and me, I’m fine, thanks for asking. Just don’t forget to pray for J & C and the kids. This is a marvelous work of God….As my favorite daughter wrote today: "But forget all that--(stuff in Egypt) it is nothing compared to what I am going to do. For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?" (43:18-19). While it is out of context, it made me think of Africa and everything that God is doing there with the orphanage and Jeff and Carla, and you………Thanks Kari…I love you and my two other favorite daughters.
Carla was walking by me this morning. “I think we have a rat in our room.” she says in passing. (You know where I’m going with this) “I thought he was going to town”, I snickered and I could see that Toyota was grinning as well. Carla seems to love Jeff and really didn’t enjoy my humor. So, being the coward I am, I slithered away quietly. I know that she will forgive me, she is a Christian. Anyway, there really was a rat in their room. Jeff put on his safari hat and bravely walked right up to one of the Aunties and asked if she ever seen the inside of his room. Now, she has been with Instep for awhile, and has learned some of Jeff’s Swahili and a pretty good rendition of his look. Jeff is not slow, and seemed to get the message. So, he screwed up his courage and entered the room and closed the door. What happened next sent shivers down my spine. There was crashing of furniture and the sounds of whacking and some high pitched squealing. It was awful. After awhile, Jeff came out proudly showing his trophy. He said that he might go into town and find a taxidermy shop tomorrow. He also apologized for the squealing….said he hoped no-one heard. I just told him it sounded alittle like Michael Jackson. That made him feel better.
The ‘steama’ has been out more than usual lately. Steama being electricity. It was a good investment to get that generator. It has really helped the aunties at night with the babies….and might be what saved Jeff from some severe physical damage with the auntie this morning. Anyway as you know, it has been Instep against KPLC, with mostly KPLC winning. Some of the problem has been right here on the compound. The power comes into a building and goes thru some thingamabobs before it goes to the meter. The thingamabobs are property of KPLC. They have been loose and causing some of the blackouts. Jeff: “hey Alex, do you happen to have the president of KPLC’s number, I seem to have displaced it?” Alex: “I am right behind you, may I be of assistance?” J explained the problem, and Alex sent 3 guys out to trouble shoot. #1: “I see no problem here.” “That’s because it’s dark because there is no electricity” says Jeff. “Oh, let me fix it.” #1 says, “it seems to be on your side of the meter, there is no electricity there.” …and so it went. They did correct some of the problem, but not quite all of it…after all “Good Service is Your Right”. On the way out, # 2 saw and heard our new generator running and asked what it was and what it did. “Hmmmm, imagine that” he says “and you say that electricity comes out and goes through that funny little rope hanging out of it.” And then they left. I know it’s hard to believe, but if it weren’t for battery power, you’d be saved from this rot tonight.
I came 3 ½ weeks ago with high hopes of starting a building project. I am beginning to understand why the life span is shorter here….you can’t accomplish anything anyway, so why hang around. I did meet with what I am beginning to think of as the prime contractor today. We are getting closer. I only hope that my grandkids will live to see the work start….just kidding! I am getting some ducks in a row and hopefully getting ahead of the project enough to head off most of the problems. Besides the ducks look cute waddling in a line.
Oh, and me, I’m fine, thanks for asking. Just don’t forget to pray for J & C and the kids. This is a marvelous work of God….As my favorite daughter wrote today: "But forget all that--(stuff in Egypt) it is nothing compared to what I am going to do. For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?" (43:18-19). While it is out of context, it made me think of Africa and everything that God is doing there with the orphanage and Jeff and Carla, and you………Thanks Kari…I love you and my two other favorite daughters.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Installment 17
Installment 17
Just a quick update. Eliud and I went back to town. The girls at English Lady’s had some clothes for Sarah. That crew there have been fantastic. They cared for Sarah like she was their sister, even tho they had never known her before….but then they tend to do that kind of thing….and in that ‘hospital’ too. I think God said something about caring for widows, orphans and strangers. So we got the clothes and got to make another visit to the morgue, drop off the clothes and haggle about how much it cost to wash Sarah and get her dressed….I think they won that round, but at that point, I was just wanting to get her and get out of there. While the morgue took care of those things, Eliud and I went down the ‘street’ and paid for the coffin and picked it up to take it back to the morgue……you know, just like we do it in America. For some reason the ‘officials’ at the morgue made me sign for Sarah, and we loaded the coffin and finally was able to leave. That is a good place to leave! Meanwhile, Jeff and Carla had brought the Pastor that works with the kids and his wife and Emmanuel, and two of English Lady’s girls and we all went out to the Maze field…ahh I mean cemetery. The men from yesterday were there, with a couple of additions… most notably a man and a girl that was about 10 or 11. He said she was one of Sarah’s kids….but the name didn’t match any that we had. Something wasn’t right, but we went on with the service. Pastor Sam did a great job, and it only took about 2 hrs in the sun to get the service finished, as everyone had something to say. I found it interesting that I began to grumble inside about the length and the heat etc…until I took time to remember that this was a small price to pay, considering that Sarah had given all for Emmanuel. As the service finished, the men lowered the coffin into the hole and the family threw some dirt in….then the men filled the hole.
We talked some and then it was done. We still don’t know about the man and the girl, but have our suspissions…. And they aren’t necessarily good., as he seem to have motives. J & C handled it well and we were on our way.
Just and interesting note, all over the hospital written on the walls and papers and everywhere it said in Swahili: “Good Service is Your Right” Sitting there for hours as the staff ignored us and hassled us I wondered if they ever actually read the walls. Oh yeah, and the ‘road’ into the cemetery…it was lined with large amounts of garbage…seemed fitting as they seem to throw away their people too….and one more thing…the place we buried Sarah had last years maize stubble….hmmm I wonder if they accidentally made a mistake….or maybe some payola.
As I heard yesterday….Kenya is a land of CONTRAST!
Just a quick update. Eliud and I went back to town. The girls at English Lady’s had some clothes for Sarah. That crew there have been fantastic. They cared for Sarah like she was their sister, even tho they had never known her before….but then they tend to do that kind of thing….and in that ‘hospital’ too. I think God said something about caring for widows, orphans and strangers. So we got the clothes and got to make another visit to the morgue, drop off the clothes and haggle about how much it cost to wash Sarah and get her dressed….I think they won that round, but at that point, I was just wanting to get her and get out of there. While the morgue took care of those things, Eliud and I went down the ‘street’ and paid for the coffin and picked it up to take it back to the morgue……you know, just like we do it in America. For some reason the ‘officials’ at the morgue made me sign for Sarah, and we loaded the coffin and finally was able to leave. That is a good place to leave! Meanwhile, Jeff and Carla had brought the Pastor that works with the kids and his wife and Emmanuel, and two of English Lady’s girls and we all went out to the Maze field…ahh I mean cemetery. The men from yesterday were there, with a couple of additions… most notably a man and a girl that was about 10 or 11. He said she was one of Sarah’s kids….but the name didn’t match any that we had. Something wasn’t right, but we went on with the service. Pastor Sam did a great job, and it only took about 2 hrs in the sun to get the service finished, as everyone had something to say. I found it interesting that I began to grumble inside about the length and the heat etc…until I took time to remember that this was a small price to pay, considering that Sarah had given all for Emmanuel. As the service finished, the men lowered the coffin into the hole and the family threw some dirt in….then the men filled the hole.
We talked some and then it was done. We still don’t know about the man and the girl, but have our suspissions…. And they aren’t necessarily good., as he seem to have motives. J & C handled it well and we were on our way.
Just and interesting note, all over the hospital written on the walls and papers and everywhere it said in Swahili: “Good Service is Your Right” Sitting there for hours as the staff ignored us and hassled us I wondered if they ever actually read the walls. Oh yeah, and the ‘road’ into the cemetery…it was lined with large amounts of garbage…seemed fitting as they seem to throw away their people too….and one more thing…the place we buried Sarah had last years maize stubble….hmmm I wonder if they accidentally made a mistake….or maybe some payola.
As I heard yesterday….Kenya is a land of CONTRAST!
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Installment 16
Installment 15
Tonight I am going to tell you a story about Africa. It is a true story. In fact, it is a story that happened today.
But first I should share a little back ground….probably not needed as you have all read my last blog and know the story of Mama Emu. Mama was found along side the road in a ditch, about 1 hour from here. Along with her was her 10 month old baby. It was soon determined that she was in dire straits and the baby needed care. The police in conjunction with the Children’s Services placed the baby with Instep. This was in late January. As you know, Mama (Sarah) almost died, revived and then passed away this last Saturday. This, you all know. You also know that the reason that she died was because she didn’t have enough food for both her and Emmanuel and so she truly died of starvation. After seeking police help, Jeff and Carla could come up with no known relatives or even solid connections. So this family grew by one more wonderful child.
Now the story. Today at about 9 am, Jeff asked Eliud, whom I’ve known since 2002, and I to go to town, check on the condition of Sarah’s body, pay the hospital bill, arrange to bury her and get permission from the city to place her in the cemetery. We don’t handle it quite this way where I am from, but felt that however it works here, I was willing to do whatever needed to be done.
We managed the ‘roads’ and came to the hospital complex. I can’t really explain the hospital, but if you will stay with me, I’ll give you some glimpses. The first thing that we had to do was see what the condition of the body was. Remember, that this is 1 degree north of the equator, and the days are hot. They don’t always embalm and so we wanted to bury her as soon as possible. Eliud said he was thankful that I was with him as he really didn’t like the morgue. I didn’t blame him, but said that it had to be done. Walking thru a maze of small buildings, we came to the morgue. I won’t tell you any more, but even if I did, you either wouldn’t believe it or couldn’t handle it. Enough said. But we did find Sarah, and she had been embalmed and so gave us some time. Unfortunately there was no dignity and she was completely exposed, naked, with about 8 other bodies. Next, we went to the small building marked Ward 7. This is where Sarah was ‘cared’ for, and where her records were kept. They don’t have a central records department like we do at home. We were in a 20’ x 24’ room, made of concrete. We sat in front of a desk in the middle of the room. Surrounding us were about 12 normal sized beds, each with 2 or 3 women occupying them. I don’t think that if I am in the hospital at home I will complain about sharing a room again. Each bed had different kinds of blankets and linen. That’s because the hospital only provides a bed and mattress…no linen or anything else, so it is up to family and friends to take care of the basic needs of the patient….even food for most of them. There were some doctors and nurses that seemed to care however. So, as we are sitting there, we were told that we needed a signed form from the morgue. Back to the morgue we went, and had to ID the body again, got the form and went back to 7. Now we are about 1 ½ hrs in. I wish that I knew how to write in a way that could give you a real understanding of how this really is here, but I can’t. But, here is where the hand of God came in again, in a miraculous way. Stay with me here. It was yesterday that Eliud was supposed to get all this done and it just didn’t work out, so here we were today. We are sitting in 7 waiting, and Eliud’s phone rings and he talked some Swahili, and hung up. Looking at me he says “we have trouble.” As we went out of the ward he said that a taxi driver up on the street called him and said that there were 4 men that new Sarah and wanted to talk to us. The only thing that could mean in Kenya is that they wanted something. So we go and meet them and they said that they would like to talk about Sarah. Because I am white and could be seen for exploitation, E told them to go to the police where Sarah was found and talk to them. “No, no, no.” was their reply. “What do you want?” asked E. “Nothing, I am her brother and haven’t seen her since 1999. A woman came to our village in Uganda and said that she knew Sarah was sick and in the hospital in Kitale, and so we have made the journey to find her, but when we came we were told she had passed.” explained one of the men. None spoke English, so E translated. They showed us a letter that supported their claim and said that they only wanted to find out about his lost sister. Still wary, I asked E to draw up a letter stating that the men, ( 1 brother, 1 uncle, and 1 inlaw with a friend) wanted nothing and would hold no claim on Sarah or her child. They were willing to sign and we began to talk. They filled in her early years and gave us her birth date and mother & father info along with her village of origin and tribe. Plus the woman that had informed them of Sarah had given them some other info filling in some gaps. Most of the kids here will have no knowledge of their history before Instep, so this is a wonderful thing for Emmanuel to know as he grows up. Then they asked to see Sarah, so back we went again. It confirmed to us that they were ligit when they broke down sobbing upon seeing her. We will see them at the funeral, which will be tomorrow. This is God at work….another couple of hours, and the men would have missed us and Emmanuel wouldn’t have this history…..and how did a taxi driver know that we were in the hospital about Sarah…..just how?? God’s timing is something else….
This story is long and I will make it shorter by saying that it took about 2/12 more hrs to pay the hospital bill, get a body release, and the form to take to the city to get authorization to bury her. It wasn’t as easy as that, but we got the form, went to city hall, paid for the permit….more time waiting, and then went to the cemetery to make sure the grave was being dug. It was done, but we had to haggle the price as we were being taken advantage of. And the cemetery….green grass, headstones ect…..no, a rough field with many small bumps with no organization and only a small handful of wooden crosses. Bad enough, but part of the used cemetery had been freshly plowed to plant maize…..plowed, right over graves….I don’t get it.
Tomorrow, we pick up the wooden casket, go to the morgue, pick up Sarah, and go to the cemetery and have a service….even some of English Lady’s crew and herself will be there, as they cared for Sarah until the end.
So all I can say is I am tired and sad and emotionally shot….I don’t mean to complain, just that some of you have asked for more detail on the real Kenya. I am really appreciative of Jeff and Carla, who have no obligation to Sarah, but want to treat her with dignity and give her a proper send off….paying all the bills and making all the arrangements…like they don’t have enough to do already. I feel privileged to be a part of giving this heroic mother honor. Because of her sacrifice Emmanuel lives…..greater love has no man that that he lay down his life for another…..looking forward to seeing her. Not so funny, but real.
The story is true and even the names are right…I know, because I was there
Tonight I am going to tell you a story about Africa. It is a true story. In fact, it is a story that happened today.
But first I should share a little back ground….probably not needed as you have all read my last blog and know the story of Mama Emu. Mama was found along side the road in a ditch, about 1 hour from here. Along with her was her 10 month old baby. It was soon determined that she was in dire straits and the baby needed care. The police in conjunction with the Children’s Services placed the baby with Instep. This was in late January. As you know, Mama (Sarah) almost died, revived and then passed away this last Saturday. This, you all know. You also know that the reason that she died was because she didn’t have enough food for both her and Emmanuel and so she truly died of starvation. After seeking police help, Jeff and Carla could come up with no known relatives or even solid connections. So this family grew by one more wonderful child.
Now the story. Today at about 9 am, Jeff asked Eliud, whom I’ve known since 2002, and I to go to town, check on the condition of Sarah’s body, pay the hospital bill, arrange to bury her and get permission from the city to place her in the cemetery. We don’t handle it quite this way where I am from, but felt that however it works here, I was willing to do whatever needed to be done.
We managed the ‘roads’ and came to the hospital complex. I can’t really explain the hospital, but if you will stay with me, I’ll give you some glimpses. The first thing that we had to do was see what the condition of the body was. Remember, that this is 1 degree north of the equator, and the days are hot. They don’t always embalm and so we wanted to bury her as soon as possible. Eliud said he was thankful that I was with him as he really didn’t like the morgue. I didn’t blame him, but said that it had to be done. Walking thru a maze of small buildings, we came to the morgue. I won’t tell you any more, but even if I did, you either wouldn’t believe it or couldn’t handle it. Enough said. But we did find Sarah, and she had been embalmed and so gave us some time. Unfortunately there was no dignity and she was completely exposed, naked, with about 8 other bodies. Next, we went to the small building marked Ward 7. This is where Sarah was ‘cared’ for, and where her records were kept. They don’t have a central records department like we do at home. We were in a 20’ x 24’ room, made of concrete. We sat in front of a desk in the middle of the room. Surrounding us were about 12 normal sized beds, each with 2 or 3 women occupying them. I don’t think that if I am in the hospital at home I will complain about sharing a room again. Each bed had different kinds of blankets and linen. That’s because the hospital only provides a bed and mattress…no linen or anything else, so it is up to family and friends to take care of the basic needs of the patient….even food for most of them. There were some doctors and nurses that seemed to care however. So, as we are sitting there, we were told that we needed a signed form from the morgue. Back to the morgue we went, and had to ID the body again, got the form and went back to 7. Now we are about 1 ½ hrs in. I wish that I knew how to write in a way that could give you a real understanding of how this really is here, but I can’t. But, here is where the hand of God came in again, in a miraculous way. Stay with me here. It was yesterday that Eliud was supposed to get all this done and it just didn’t work out, so here we were today. We are sitting in 7 waiting, and Eliud’s phone rings and he talked some Swahili, and hung up. Looking at me he says “we have trouble.” As we went out of the ward he said that a taxi driver up on the street called him and said that there were 4 men that new Sarah and wanted to talk to us. The only thing that could mean in Kenya is that they wanted something. So we go and meet them and they said that they would like to talk about Sarah. Because I am white and could be seen for exploitation, E told them to go to the police where Sarah was found and talk to them. “No, no, no.” was their reply. “What do you want?” asked E. “Nothing, I am her brother and haven’t seen her since 1999. A woman came to our village in Uganda and said that she knew Sarah was sick and in the hospital in Kitale, and so we have made the journey to find her, but when we came we were told she had passed.” explained one of the men. None spoke English, so E translated. They showed us a letter that supported their claim and said that they only wanted to find out about his lost sister. Still wary, I asked E to draw up a letter stating that the men, ( 1 brother, 1 uncle, and 1 inlaw with a friend) wanted nothing and would hold no claim on Sarah or her child. They were willing to sign and we began to talk. They filled in her early years and gave us her birth date and mother & father info along with her village of origin and tribe. Plus the woman that had informed them of Sarah had given them some other info filling in some gaps. Most of the kids here will have no knowledge of their history before Instep, so this is a wonderful thing for Emmanuel to know as he grows up. Then they asked to see Sarah, so back we went again. It confirmed to us that they were ligit when they broke down sobbing upon seeing her. We will see them at the funeral, which will be tomorrow. This is God at work….another couple of hours, and the men would have missed us and Emmanuel wouldn’t have this history…..and how did a taxi driver know that we were in the hospital about Sarah…..just how?? God’s timing is something else….
This story is long and I will make it shorter by saying that it took about 2/12 more hrs to pay the hospital bill, get a body release, and the form to take to the city to get authorization to bury her. It wasn’t as easy as that, but we got the form, went to city hall, paid for the permit….more time waiting, and then went to the cemetery to make sure the grave was being dug. It was done, but we had to haggle the price as we were being taken advantage of. And the cemetery….green grass, headstones ect…..no, a rough field with many small bumps with no organization and only a small handful of wooden crosses. Bad enough, but part of the used cemetery had been freshly plowed to plant maize…..plowed, right over graves….I don’t get it.
Tomorrow, we pick up the wooden casket, go to the morgue, pick up Sarah, and go to the cemetery and have a service….even some of English Lady’s crew and herself will be there, as they cared for Sarah until the end.
So all I can say is I am tired and sad and emotionally shot….I don’t mean to complain, just that some of you have asked for more detail on the real Kenya. I am really appreciative of Jeff and Carla, who have no obligation to Sarah, but want to treat her with dignity and give her a proper send off….paying all the bills and making all the arrangements…like they don’t have enough to do already. I feel privileged to be a part of giving this heroic mother honor. Because of her sacrifice Emmanuel lives…..greater love has no man that that he lay down his life for another…..looking forward to seeing her. Not so funny, but real.
The story is true and even the names are right…I know, because I was there
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Installment 15 + alittle of 13
Installment 15
The following 5 paragraphs are from Installment 13. My Editor asked if I would re-write it and try to make some sense. “I’ll re-write it” I said, “but it still won’t make sense.” So, re-read Installment 12, or if you happen to be one of the more discerning types, read 12 for the 1st time before you read the following
When I left you last, I promised to tell you of a miracle. I will tell you two….one is that you are back reading this slop…it must be from God, as you know that you wouldn’t do it on your own. Now shortly after the repair crew left, the power came on. “Ring, ring--this is Alex, have you the opportunity to see that your power is back?” Jeff, “yes, and thank you.” Alex, “If only we had known earlier, we would have come and saved you all the cellular telephone time that you wasted. Please, if on the off chance that the power should fail again, call me personally, no sense bothering the president….maybe we can help each other.”
7:00.…and hour later…..Yup. Jeff, “Hello, Alex, this is your soon to be best friend.” Alex, “I am currently building my new house just outside your property….you have not called the president?” An hour later, the power was back….and that’s another miracle
Later after picking up …well not picking up,,purchasing and having placed in Toyota 2-120kg (about 160lb) bags of potatoes and some other food stuffs, we wandered around the grocery store until we found the electrical generator section….yes, in the grocery/hardware/tool/plumbing/you name it store…kind of a super Walmart with an ‘old west’ twist. Finding a small generator, Jeff says “looks like this one is on consignment from KPLC“. Long story short (that will be the day) back at the ranch, we took the rest of the afternoon to string some wire and get some lights in the baby section of the compound…which as it turned out, was a good thing as it got dark. The Aunties were ecstatic, and the kids had their jammies on more or less correctly…most of the buttons were on the front. So the generator ran all night and the babies were taken care of. Next morning, J & I got to work refining the system and actually put in a parallel system for in the veranda and baby wing so ‘if’ the power goes out, were are ready. So, last night the jammies looked pretty good.
During the 47 hours of the eclipse, the main issue became the water. Since it is hard to drop a bucket 300’ into an 8” pipe, we had no way of pumping water up into the 2- 1000 gal tanks that provide for the compound. One tank feeds the outside, including the supply for the local community and the other feeds the buildings. After the first tank emptied, and notifying the locals that there was no water until the power came back, we were careful with the second supply. By the way, the locals were pretty discouraged because they have seen KPLC work (well, not work) before. So, hour by hour the tank continued to provide water and then at about midnight on Monday Jeff said sounds like the water is done. Carla did what she does best and prayed, thinking that maybe God could move KPLC…big order, and He didn’t seem to respond. But oddly enough, when the cooks came, they went to the tap and drew water for breakfast…in fact water kept coming as needed all day. When the power did come back, Jeff went up to the tanks and observed that the water in the tank was below the outlet….but there was still water at the tap….who needs KPLC when we have our God. Believe what you want, but this place lives on miracles. God loves his kids.
So now it is morning. Time to face the mob. Rumor has it that Children’s Services called and has an 8 month old that her father has been abusing her and her mother is incompetent. Looks like 91 is on the way.
PS, the builder whom I talked to last Saturday that promised he would come Monday…..didn’t show. This frustrates me to no end. This guy has the opportunity to get involve in a multi-year, buco bucks project and he blows me off. “Typical” says Jeff, “but he will have a good excuse…count on it.” I wonder if Victor knows how to build….maybe he and Alex could team up.
Installment 14 gave the lowdown on baby….Mary Riviki….who is doing better.
Now….Installment 15.…really!
Carla does a newsletter fairly often and the one she just posted was really good. She writes really well and has promised to give me lessons if I will give up writing for other people to read..”OK” I said, “I don’t think anyone reads my stuff anyway.”
I know that this will make this a really long letter, but I am going to paste her letter into this….just think of it this way, you know can justify reading Safarislim. Some would call this plagiarism, but I call it borrowing
Jambo Everybody!
Where to start….. We have been back in Kenya for just over a month, yet it seems like much longer than that! We have had some major challenges, which I don’t feel comfortable getting into in such a “world wide web” type forum. Suffice it to say that we have been absolutely consumed with dealing with these issues, for the protection of the children and the ministry. As He always does, our Great Defender has put the right people in place to advise us and help us make some necessary changes. It has been exhausting and challenging, but I think we have gotten through round one with our head above water! We are praying that round two never materializes and we can just move forward with our newfound knowledge and experience!
New babies are coming at an alarming rate! I find comfort in knowing that God is in control! Otherwise I would worry myself to death over how we are going to deal with this continuous growth! We agreed a long time ago that if God sends them, we will not turn them away. We are sticking to that, no matter what (right LLH?), but still can’t help but wonder how He will keep this big ole boat afloat as we grow!
On top of that, the growth is twofold; we grow in number, while at the same time the kids continue to grow up! Funny how that happens! So where we used to cook eight or nine cups of rice for supper, now we need twenty! What used to be six packs of spaghetti, is now sixteen! We use four cans of formula every day plus almost eighty cups of milk! I try not to think about how it will be when all the kids who are now two or three years old are thirteen or fourteen! I do better to remember not to worry about tomorrow, for today has enough worries of its own!
We had been back for about two weeks, when we got a call from the police boss of an area about an hour away from us. He explained that there was a ten month old baby boy at his station, who desperately needed a home. Jeff was already off and running, so Eliud and I headed out to pick up the baby. Over the phone, the police boss had made it sound like the child had been abandoned; he had been found along the side of the road by a Good Samaritan and had been brought to the police station. (Not an uncommon story.) The officer failed to mention that the baby wasn’t alone, but had been found along the side of the road with his mother who was lying in the ditch, unconscious! Baby Emmanuel never left his mother’s side!
This particular police station happens to be right next door to a medical clinic, where they were treating the mother. When I realized that the baby wasn’t alone, I quizzed the officer as to the situation. After all, we can’t just take in every kid who has a sick mother! I explained how we take orphaned and abandoned babies, not ones who have family. After the officer finally agreed that when the mother recovered, the child would be returned to her, I went into the clinic to meet her and assure her that her boy was in good hands.
I have never seen anything more pathetic! This woman was just skin over bones! There wasn’t an ounce of meat on her frail little body! I could not believe she was still alive! She was too weak to even sit up. Her whole face was swollen to the point that she could hardly open her eyes and she couldn’t close her mouth because her tongue was so swollen! I must admit that my first thought was how silly I must have seemed to the police officer as I was so adamant about making sure the child would go back to his mother when she got better. One look at her and it was obvious that she was not going to get better.
The nurse in charge told me that they were transferring the woman to Kitale District Hospital, but that the hospital wouldn’t admit her with the child. I told her that we have a good relationship with the hospital staff, so I would be checking up on her the next day. At this, the nurse and her two colleagues looked nervous and stepped around the corner to have a private conversation, after which the nurse in charge came back to me to explain that their ambulance was in disrepair so they really had no way to transport the patient to Kitale! At this point, I had to bite my tongue to not call them on the fact that it was very obvious that their plan all along was to just let her die on that dirty mattress thrown down on the floor of the clinic!
We moved the dirty mattress, with Mama Manu still lying on it, into the back of the vehicle and took her to the hospital ourselves. I did insist that the clinic send a nurse along to care for her in transit. I wasn’t sure the woman would survive the journey and sure didn’t want to show up at the hospital with a dead woman and her baby in my vehicle, without any medical personnel to back my story!
On the way to Kitale, we stopped back by the home to drop Manu off. By that time, Jeff was there so I shared the whole story and we prayed for Mama Manu, before sending her and the nurse, with Eliud driving, on to the hospital. Nobody expected her to survive the night, but she did. Then nobody expected her to survive another day, but she did. The third day, she slipped into a coma and we all knew she wouldn’t last much longer. Two days later, she woke up from the coma and started eating and drinking! Each day since then, she has gotten a little bit stronger than the day before! She is still quite ill, but is out of the woods! She will be reunited with her son, after all! Praise God!
This case has been especially emotional for me because of the woman’s obvious love for her son! Most kids we get have been abused or abandoned by their parents, so it’s easy to be glad that they will no longer be with them. But every now and then, we get a child whose parent loves him like a parent is supposed to love their child. Mama Manu is one of those parents. I will never forget how she, so weak and sick and pathetic, would call out for her son. Her tongue was so swollen, it was an effort to speak at all, but she was still mindful of where her baby was and wanted to know he was ok. When she would call for him, I would get down close to her, place my hand on her face, and tell her that I have Manu and will take good care of him for her until she is all better. Tears immediately started flowing as she sunk back down into the mattress and slept. Oh how my heart went out to her! It will be a happy day when she is released and reunited with the joy of her life!
Because she was so emaciated, we thought she was succumbing to TB. She does have TB and is now being treated for it, but the doctor said that wasn’t what was killing her. Plain old starvation was the problem. This shocked me because Manu, although he shows signs of not eating a balanced diet, isn’t really thin or malnourished looking. It appears that, in her poverty, whenever she could get her hands on food, she would give it to her son, leaving herself to go without. She just about starved herself to death to feed her baby!
(I wrote the above story yesterday afternoon. This morning, we got word that Mama Manu passed away in her sleep. As soon as I got the news, I went out and scooped Manu up and took him for a long walk. I cried over him. I prayed over him. My heart grieved on his behalf, as he is too young to understand what’s happening. Monday morning, Jeff will start the process of getting all the proper permits, coffin, etc. so that we can bury her properly. When Manu is old enough to understand what happened, I want him to know that we did what we could for his mom. I am heartbroken. She really, really loved her son. In the end, she died for him.)
Baby Blessing came late one evening last week. She is almost four months old and was abandoned at birth in the hospital where she was born. At first, the hospital staff hoped that Mama Blessing would return for her, but she never did. Although this particular hospital also operates a children’s home, they don’t take infants so the baby was placed with us. Blessing is very healthy! I’m pretty sure that the nurses, and probably other mamas at the hospital, held her and gave her lots of attention…. even now, every time an adult walks past her, she cries to be picked up. It’s taking her a while to catch onto the fact that she’s now one of 90… not the only baby in the place! She is a sweetie, though; a very happy (if she’s being held), healthy baby girl!
Three days ago, another baby girl came to join us. She is almost eleven months old and two weeks ago was raped by her father. Her mother is mentally ill (I’m not exactly sure what that means, but the fact is even noted on the immunization record of the baby), so was helpless to protect her daughter. After the father took the baby from the mother, the mother’s sister went to check on the baby and discovered what had happened. She kept her head about her and went to the police to report her suspicions. The police accompanied her and the baby to the hospital where the baby was examined and it was confirmed what had happened. The police went directly to the man’s house and arrested him.
The baby’s name is Mary Riziki. We are calling her Riziki, partly because we already have a Mary and partly because “Riziki” means “Destiny”, which I feel has tons of meaning for this precious little girl! “’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future’” Jeremiah 29:11. We have also claimed Psalm 91 for her, which is all about God’s protection over those who love Him. Since she is child #91, it seemed appropriate.
Riziki has absolutely haunting, sad eyes! I have seen a lot of suffering children in the past almost eight years, but I have never seen eyes like hers! When you look into her eyes, you actually feel her sadness. Talk about the window to her soul… it’s eerie, but at the same time, it just makes you fall in love with her and want to make everything ok, which of course, you cannot do. It’s a helpless feeling. Physically, she is improving daily; she’s eating pretty well and seems to be getting used to the constant activity all around her. She whimpers through diaper changes, which is understandable…. but even that is lessening slowly. She’ll be ok.
I’m sorry this hasn’t been the happiest letter I’ve ever written. We are ok; it has just been an emotional few weeks. We have been experiencing some pretty serious betrayal, which is obviously very emotionally draining, plus the stuff with the kids (especially Manu and Riziki), and a few other disappointments which I don’t want to get into. I keep finding myself singing, “I am pressed but not crushed, persecuted not abandoned. Struck down but not destroyed. I am blessed beyond the curse, for His promise will endure: His joy’s gonna be my strength!” As I sing the words, I know everything will be ok!
On a positive note, Grace and Peter have both started high school! Both got accepted at reputable boarding schools and are all settled in and studying hard (I hope!). We get to visit Peter next Friday at the school’s “orientation for parents” day, then we’ll see Grace on the first Saturday of every month, which is her school’s visiting day. I imagine that the orientation on Friday will let us know when Peter’s visiting day is… I hope it’s not the first Saturday of every month! The two schools are nowhere near one another!
Building of the clinic and the dorm house is getting underway! Our friend, Terry Kiser, is here for another month or so and has been working hard at interviewing builders, writing construction contracts, etc. Hopefully, he’ll get everything rolling on auto-pilot before he leaves! (Probably a bit of wishful thinking there….) It’s great having him here! He has been a huge help around the place (it has gotten to be too much for just Jeff and I), plus he’s been building stuff (my honey-do list continues to grow… I’m not sure how many things he’ll check off of it before he leaves), I already mentioned his involvement in getting the building going, and it’s just nice to have a friend here!
The kids are doing well! They are what keep us going! Such innocence and love! So far, unspoiled by this corrupt, cruel world! When I’m tired or down, I just go spend some time with my beautiful kids, all 91 of them, and remember why I’m here! It just makes everything ok!
Thanks everyone! We love you all!
GIGATT!
Carla and Jeff
So, what else it there to say. TIA…..This is Africa. I know that it is an emotional thing to read what Carla just wrote, but it seems harder when you live it. So again I tell you that J & C have willingly given up their planned life to live this one for the rest of their lives. But, you know, along with all the hard things and discouragement comes James…little James…if he can’t make your day better, then you must be dead….I know, you thought you’d never hear me say anything like this, but there are 89 snot factories here and Gracie and Peter at school…that all make the trials seem to fade….but NEVER turn your back on any of them!!!
Just so you know, Mama Manu’s real name was Sarah. Women here take their firstborn’s name as their own….Sarah’s firstborn was Emmanuel…therefore, Mama Manu….She literally gave her life for her son…not so common here. Riziki is starting to fit in and eating better….got a little smile tonight.
Looking forward to Monday the 28th, as my friend Dale Herrigstad is giving up his agenda and coming here to do ‘surveyor’ work to enable us to speed up the building process.
I want to tell you much more,,,,but I can’t think of any of it right now….maybe tomorrow….yeah, that’s it: “I can’t think about that today,,,,I’ll think about it tomorrow (Scarlett O’Hara) Pray that I can get my brain started in the morning..
The following 5 paragraphs are from Installment 13. My Editor asked if I would re-write it and try to make some sense. “I’ll re-write it” I said, “but it still won’t make sense.” So, re-read Installment 12, or if you happen to be one of the more discerning types, read 12 for the 1st time before you read the following
When I left you last, I promised to tell you of a miracle. I will tell you two….one is that you are back reading this slop…it must be from God, as you know that you wouldn’t do it on your own. Now shortly after the repair crew left, the power came on. “Ring, ring--this is Alex, have you the opportunity to see that your power is back?” Jeff, “yes, and thank you.” Alex, “If only we had known earlier, we would have come and saved you all the cellular telephone time that you wasted. Please, if on the off chance that the power should fail again, call me personally, no sense bothering the president….maybe we can help each other.”
7:00.…and hour later…..Yup. Jeff, “Hello, Alex, this is your soon to be best friend.” Alex, “I am currently building my new house just outside your property….you have not called the president?” An hour later, the power was back….and that’s another miracle
Later after picking up …well not picking up,,purchasing and having placed in Toyota 2-120kg (about 160lb) bags of potatoes and some other food stuffs, we wandered around the grocery store until we found the electrical generator section….yes, in the grocery/hardware/tool/plumbing/you name it store…kind of a super Walmart with an ‘old west’ twist. Finding a small generator, Jeff says “looks like this one is on consignment from KPLC“. Long story short (that will be the day) back at the ranch, we took the rest of the afternoon to string some wire and get some lights in the baby section of the compound…which as it turned out, was a good thing as it got dark. The Aunties were ecstatic, and the kids had their jammies on more or less correctly…most of the buttons were on the front. So the generator ran all night and the babies were taken care of. Next morning, J & I got to work refining the system and actually put in a parallel system for in the veranda and baby wing so ‘if’ the power goes out, were are ready. So, last night the jammies looked pretty good.
During the 47 hours of the eclipse, the main issue became the water. Since it is hard to drop a bucket 300’ into an 8” pipe, we had no way of pumping water up into the 2- 1000 gal tanks that provide for the compound. One tank feeds the outside, including the supply for the local community and the other feeds the buildings. After the first tank emptied, and notifying the locals that there was no water until the power came back, we were careful with the second supply. By the way, the locals were pretty discouraged because they have seen KPLC work (well, not work) before. So, hour by hour the tank continued to provide water and then at about midnight on Monday Jeff said sounds like the water is done. Carla did what she does best and prayed, thinking that maybe God could move KPLC…big order, and He didn’t seem to respond. But oddly enough, when the cooks came, they went to the tap and drew water for breakfast…in fact water kept coming as needed all day. When the power did come back, Jeff went up to the tanks and observed that the water in the tank was below the outlet….but there was still water at the tap….who needs KPLC when we have our God. Believe what you want, but this place lives on miracles. God loves his kids.
So now it is morning. Time to face the mob. Rumor has it that Children’s Services called and has an 8 month old that her father has been abusing her and her mother is incompetent. Looks like 91 is on the way.
PS, the builder whom I talked to last Saturday that promised he would come Monday…..didn’t show. This frustrates me to no end. This guy has the opportunity to get involve in a multi-year, buco bucks project and he blows me off. “Typical” says Jeff, “but he will have a good excuse…count on it.” I wonder if Victor knows how to build….maybe he and Alex could team up.
Installment 14 gave the lowdown on baby….Mary Riviki….who is doing better.
Now….Installment 15.…really!
Carla does a newsletter fairly often and the one she just posted was really good. She writes really well and has promised to give me lessons if I will give up writing for other people to read..”OK” I said, “I don’t think anyone reads my stuff anyway.”
I know that this will make this a really long letter, but I am going to paste her letter into this….just think of it this way, you know can justify reading Safarislim. Some would call this plagiarism, but I call it borrowing
Jambo Everybody!
Where to start….. We have been back in Kenya for just over a month, yet it seems like much longer than that! We have had some major challenges, which I don’t feel comfortable getting into in such a “world wide web” type forum. Suffice it to say that we have been absolutely consumed with dealing with these issues, for the protection of the children and the ministry. As He always does, our Great Defender has put the right people in place to advise us and help us make some necessary changes. It has been exhausting and challenging, but I think we have gotten through round one with our head above water! We are praying that round two never materializes and we can just move forward with our newfound knowledge and experience!
New babies are coming at an alarming rate! I find comfort in knowing that God is in control! Otherwise I would worry myself to death over how we are going to deal with this continuous growth! We agreed a long time ago that if God sends them, we will not turn them away. We are sticking to that, no matter what (right LLH?), but still can’t help but wonder how He will keep this big ole boat afloat as we grow!
On top of that, the growth is twofold; we grow in number, while at the same time the kids continue to grow up! Funny how that happens! So where we used to cook eight or nine cups of rice for supper, now we need twenty! What used to be six packs of spaghetti, is now sixteen! We use four cans of formula every day plus almost eighty cups of milk! I try not to think about how it will be when all the kids who are now two or three years old are thirteen or fourteen! I do better to remember not to worry about tomorrow, for today has enough worries of its own!
We had been back for about two weeks, when we got a call from the police boss of an area about an hour away from us. He explained that there was a ten month old baby boy at his station, who desperately needed a home. Jeff was already off and running, so Eliud and I headed out to pick up the baby. Over the phone, the police boss had made it sound like the child had been abandoned; he had been found along the side of the road by a Good Samaritan and had been brought to the police station. (Not an uncommon story.) The officer failed to mention that the baby wasn’t alone, but had been found along the side of the road with his mother who was lying in the ditch, unconscious! Baby Emmanuel never left his mother’s side!
This particular police station happens to be right next door to a medical clinic, where they were treating the mother. When I realized that the baby wasn’t alone, I quizzed the officer as to the situation. After all, we can’t just take in every kid who has a sick mother! I explained how we take orphaned and abandoned babies, not ones who have family. After the officer finally agreed that when the mother recovered, the child would be returned to her, I went into the clinic to meet her and assure her that her boy was in good hands.
I have never seen anything more pathetic! This woman was just skin over bones! There wasn’t an ounce of meat on her frail little body! I could not believe she was still alive! She was too weak to even sit up. Her whole face was swollen to the point that she could hardly open her eyes and she couldn’t close her mouth because her tongue was so swollen! I must admit that my first thought was how silly I must have seemed to the police officer as I was so adamant about making sure the child would go back to his mother when she got better. One look at her and it was obvious that she was not going to get better.
The nurse in charge told me that they were transferring the woman to Kitale District Hospital, but that the hospital wouldn’t admit her with the child. I told her that we have a good relationship with the hospital staff, so I would be checking up on her the next day. At this, the nurse and her two colleagues looked nervous and stepped around the corner to have a private conversation, after which the nurse in charge came back to me to explain that their ambulance was in disrepair so they really had no way to transport the patient to Kitale! At this point, I had to bite my tongue to not call them on the fact that it was very obvious that their plan all along was to just let her die on that dirty mattress thrown down on the floor of the clinic!
We moved the dirty mattress, with Mama Manu still lying on it, into the back of the vehicle and took her to the hospital ourselves. I did insist that the clinic send a nurse along to care for her in transit. I wasn’t sure the woman would survive the journey and sure didn’t want to show up at the hospital with a dead woman and her baby in my vehicle, without any medical personnel to back my story!
On the way to Kitale, we stopped back by the home to drop Manu off. By that time, Jeff was there so I shared the whole story and we prayed for Mama Manu, before sending her and the nurse, with Eliud driving, on to the hospital. Nobody expected her to survive the night, but she did. Then nobody expected her to survive another day, but she did. The third day, she slipped into a coma and we all knew she wouldn’t last much longer. Two days later, she woke up from the coma and started eating and drinking! Each day since then, she has gotten a little bit stronger than the day before! She is still quite ill, but is out of the woods! She will be reunited with her son, after all! Praise God!
This case has been especially emotional for me because of the woman’s obvious love for her son! Most kids we get have been abused or abandoned by their parents, so it’s easy to be glad that they will no longer be with them. But every now and then, we get a child whose parent loves him like a parent is supposed to love their child. Mama Manu is one of those parents. I will never forget how she, so weak and sick and pathetic, would call out for her son. Her tongue was so swollen, it was an effort to speak at all, but she was still mindful of where her baby was and wanted to know he was ok. When she would call for him, I would get down close to her, place my hand on her face, and tell her that I have Manu and will take good care of him for her until she is all better. Tears immediately started flowing as she sunk back down into the mattress and slept. Oh how my heart went out to her! It will be a happy day when she is released and reunited with the joy of her life!
Because she was so emaciated, we thought she was succumbing to TB. She does have TB and is now being treated for it, but the doctor said that wasn’t what was killing her. Plain old starvation was the problem. This shocked me because Manu, although he shows signs of not eating a balanced diet, isn’t really thin or malnourished looking. It appears that, in her poverty, whenever she could get her hands on food, she would give it to her son, leaving herself to go without. She just about starved herself to death to feed her baby!
(I wrote the above story yesterday afternoon. This morning, we got word that Mama Manu passed away in her sleep. As soon as I got the news, I went out and scooped Manu up and took him for a long walk. I cried over him. I prayed over him. My heart grieved on his behalf, as he is too young to understand what’s happening. Monday morning, Jeff will start the process of getting all the proper permits, coffin, etc. so that we can bury her properly. When Manu is old enough to understand what happened, I want him to know that we did what we could for his mom. I am heartbroken. She really, really loved her son. In the end, she died for him.)
Baby Blessing came late one evening last week. She is almost four months old and was abandoned at birth in the hospital where she was born. At first, the hospital staff hoped that Mama Blessing would return for her, but she never did. Although this particular hospital also operates a children’s home, they don’t take infants so the baby was placed with us. Blessing is very healthy! I’m pretty sure that the nurses, and probably other mamas at the hospital, held her and gave her lots of attention…. even now, every time an adult walks past her, she cries to be picked up. It’s taking her a while to catch onto the fact that she’s now one of 90… not the only baby in the place! She is a sweetie, though; a very happy (if she’s being held), healthy baby girl!
Three days ago, another baby girl came to join us. She is almost eleven months old and two weeks ago was raped by her father. Her mother is mentally ill (I’m not exactly sure what that means, but the fact is even noted on the immunization record of the baby), so was helpless to protect her daughter. After the father took the baby from the mother, the mother’s sister went to check on the baby and discovered what had happened. She kept her head about her and went to the police to report her suspicions. The police accompanied her and the baby to the hospital where the baby was examined and it was confirmed what had happened. The police went directly to the man’s house and arrested him.
The baby’s name is Mary Riziki. We are calling her Riziki, partly because we already have a Mary and partly because “Riziki” means “Destiny”, which I feel has tons of meaning for this precious little girl! “’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future’” Jeremiah 29:11. We have also claimed Psalm 91 for her, which is all about God’s protection over those who love Him. Since she is child #91, it seemed appropriate.
Riziki has absolutely haunting, sad eyes! I have seen a lot of suffering children in the past almost eight years, but I have never seen eyes like hers! When you look into her eyes, you actually feel her sadness. Talk about the window to her soul… it’s eerie, but at the same time, it just makes you fall in love with her and want to make everything ok, which of course, you cannot do. It’s a helpless feeling. Physically, she is improving daily; she’s eating pretty well and seems to be getting used to the constant activity all around her. She whimpers through diaper changes, which is understandable…. but even that is lessening slowly. She’ll be ok.
I’m sorry this hasn’t been the happiest letter I’ve ever written. We are ok; it has just been an emotional few weeks. We have been experiencing some pretty serious betrayal, which is obviously very emotionally draining, plus the stuff with the kids (especially Manu and Riziki), and a few other disappointments which I don’t want to get into. I keep finding myself singing, “I am pressed but not crushed, persecuted not abandoned. Struck down but not destroyed. I am blessed beyond the curse, for His promise will endure: His joy’s gonna be my strength!” As I sing the words, I know everything will be ok!
On a positive note, Grace and Peter have both started high school! Both got accepted at reputable boarding schools and are all settled in and studying hard (I hope!). We get to visit Peter next Friday at the school’s “orientation for parents” day, then we’ll see Grace on the first Saturday of every month, which is her school’s visiting day. I imagine that the orientation on Friday will let us know when Peter’s visiting day is… I hope it’s not the first Saturday of every month! The two schools are nowhere near one another!
Building of the clinic and the dorm house is getting underway! Our friend, Terry Kiser, is here for another month or so and has been working hard at interviewing builders, writing construction contracts, etc. Hopefully, he’ll get everything rolling on auto-pilot before he leaves! (Probably a bit of wishful thinking there….) It’s great having him here! He has been a huge help around the place (it has gotten to be too much for just Jeff and I), plus he’s been building stuff (my honey-do list continues to grow… I’m not sure how many things he’ll check off of it before he leaves), I already mentioned his involvement in getting the building going, and it’s just nice to have a friend here!
The kids are doing well! They are what keep us going! Such innocence and love! So far, unspoiled by this corrupt, cruel world! When I’m tired or down, I just go spend some time with my beautiful kids, all 91 of them, and remember why I’m here! It just makes everything ok!
Thanks everyone! We love you all!
GIGATT!
Carla and Jeff
So, what else it there to say. TIA…..This is Africa. I know that it is an emotional thing to read what Carla just wrote, but it seems harder when you live it. So again I tell you that J & C have willingly given up their planned life to live this one for the rest of their lives. But, you know, along with all the hard things and discouragement comes James…little James…if he can’t make your day better, then you must be dead….I know, you thought you’d never hear me say anything like this, but there are 89 snot factories here and Gracie and Peter at school…that all make the trials seem to fade….but NEVER turn your back on any of them!!!
Just so you know, Mama Manu’s real name was Sarah. Women here take their firstborn’s name as their own….Sarah’s firstborn was Emmanuel…therefore, Mama Manu….She literally gave her life for her son…not so common here. Riziki is starting to fit in and eating better….got a little smile tonight.
Looking forward to Monday the 28th, as my friend Dale Herrigstad is giving up his agenda and coming here to do ‘surveyor’ work to enable us to speed up the building process.
I want to tell you much more,,,,but I can’t think of any of it right now….maybe tomorrow….yeah, that’s it: “I can’t think about that today,,,,I’ll think about it tomorrow (Scarlett O’Hara) Pray that I can get my brain started in the morning..
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Installment 14
Installment 14
I won’t be long this time. We got number 91 this afternoon. She has the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. Her name is Mary Riziki and she is 11 months old. Her mother is mentally incompetent and her father is going to prison for raping this precious little one. She is all torn up and …well enough said. This really angers me. I can put up with a lot of injustice, but this is too much. I have my thoughts about what I’d like to see happen to the father, but that’s between me and God. This is my first time getting a baby here other than Blessing, and so am having a hard time with this little one’s story. I know that it isn’t unusual here, but it sucks. I’m just all the more thankful for this place….she has hope for the future. There were 82 here in October, now 91...all with stories, now all with hope. I’ll be back tomorrow, Lord willing.
I won’t be long this time. We got number 91 this afternoon. She has the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. Her name is Mary Riziki and she is 11 months old. Her mother is mentally incompetent and her father is going to prison for raping this precious little one. She is all torn up and …well enough said. This really angers me. I can put up with a lot of injustice, but this is too much. I have my thoughts about what I’d like to see happen to the father, but that’s between me and God. This is my first time getting a baby here other than Blessing, and so am having a hard time with this little one’s story. I know that it isn’t unusual here, but it sucks. I’m just all the more thankful for this place….she has hope for the future. There were 82 here in October, now 91...all with stories, now all with hope. I’ll be back tomorrow, Lord willing.
Installment 14
Installment 14
I won’t be long this time. We got number 91 this afternoon. She has the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. Her name is Mary Riziki and she is 11 months old. Her mother is mentally incompetent and her father is going to prison for raping this precious little one. She is all torn up and …well enough said. This really angers me. I can put up with a lot of injustice, but this is too much. I have my thoughts about what I’d like to see happen to the father, but that’s between me and God. This is my first time getting a baby here other than Blessing, and so am having a hard time with this little one’s story. I know that it isn’t unusual here, but it sucks. I’m just all the more thankful for this place….she has hope for the future. There were 82 here in October, now 91...all with stories, now all with hope. I’ll be back tomorrow, Lord willing.
I won’t be long this time. We got number 91 this afternoon. She has the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. Her name is Mary Riziki and she is 11 months old. Her mother is mentally incompetent and her father is going to prison for raping this precious little one. She is all torn up and …well enough said. This really angers me. I can put up with a lot of injustice, but this is too much. I have my thoughts about what I’d like to see happen to the father, but that’s between me and God. This is my first time getting a baby here other than Blessing, and so am having a hard time with this little one’s story. I know that it isn’t unusual here, but it sucks. I’m just all the more thankful for this place….she has hope for the future. There were 82 here in October, now 91...all with stories, now all with hope. I’ll be back tomorrow, Lord willing.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Installment12
Installment 12
Sunday night, we’re in the veranda. It’s almost 7:00pm and it’s been dark for about a half and hour. The kids are wound up tight and the Aunties are feverishly trying to get the little ones undressed and into their pajamas….remember how much fun that was at your house. I’m telling you, it’s a site to behold…clothes aflyin’, diapers swapped faster than the smell can keep up, and just like that, 70+ little crotch smashers are in their PJ’s and headed for bed. Crotch smashers? You ask. These munchkins are just about inseam length, and can run and hit you at just under warp speed….”hug! Babu!” they plead. “Mercy!!” I manage to squeak out in my best falsetto voice. While this is all happening, the guys that keep the electricity tank full must take their dinner break, because it seems that darkness falls in it’s entirety just about the same time every night. Not every night, but a lot of them. The Aunties that come in for the morning shift can tell which nights it occurs, as the clues aren’t that hard to follow….two kids in the same jammies, bottoms over heads, arms in leg holes and legs in arm holes. So, back to Sunday night, right on schedule the power takes a powder and there we are, dressing by braille…which isn’t all that bad except for the dirty diapers, which as you know, is why I don’t do babies….ask Sandy. Oh, I’ve changed dirty pants before, but mostly they were mine. Anyway, off to bed we go feeling our way. “It’ll be better in the morning”, Jeff’s voice comes from somewhere. (He likes the power company because it give him reasons to wake up every couple of hours and call them) Morning comes…no power, which normally wouldn’t be so bad, except here, morning comes before morning, like in the dark time that you and I might still call night. I got up a bit later, but knew that the power was still off as I saw a 3 yr old walk by on his hands…”hey wait” I say, “he isn’t walking on his hands….he has a shirt on for pants”…and then I notice a whole herd of similarly dressed kids….yup, no power. In fact, no power as the day progressed, night fell, morning arrived, day progressed and evening came. The one good thing that came out of it was Jeff was pretty well occupied on the phone to KPLC…which I think stands for ‘Kenya Power Likely Cancelled’. He call them every couple of hours and it was the same every time: Hello, this is Jeff Picicci with Instep Children’s Home in Sebonga, our electricity is still out” “Hello, this is KPLC, thank you for calling us. We want to serve you well. You say you have not any power? “Yes”, repeats for the 18th time, “I have told you many times today. When can I expect the repair people?” “You say you have not any power. The men are on their way, in fact they are already at your property.” “Then please call a doctor for me, as my vision is failing and I cannot see any KPLC people.” “Yes, and you say you have not any power?” ….and you think that I am using one of my famous exaggerations, not so, ask Jeff…this is almost verbatim….every call….call after call. Now by hour 35+ Jeff actually goes to KPLC office. “Hello, I am Jeff Picicci from Instep in Sebonga, I have been calling you for over 35 hours to get you to respond to the power outage.” “Oh, this is the first we knew. The repair team is now at your property…..where was it, again?” “ I have 90 kids that depend on water from the borehole and food that isn’t spoiled” Jeff pushes. “And so what is your situation?” Staller replies. “Do you know where Victor is?” Jeff sighs as he walks out. Not to be stumped, Jeff tracked down the president of KPLC in Nairobi and explained the situation. A few minutes after getting off the phone, oddly, Alex called and asked for specific directions to Instep. I don’t know what kind of power a president of a company has, but it worked for us. 47 hours later power was back. There is more than 1 miracle in this, but I will tell you about one……..next time.
Sunday night, we’re in the veranda. It’s almost 7:00pm and it’s been dark for about a half and hour. The kids are wound up tight and the Aunties are feverishly trying to get the little ones undressed and into their pajamas….remember how much fun that was at your house. I’m telling you, it’s a site to behold…clothes aflyin’, diapers swapped faster than the smell can keep up, and just like that, 70+ little crotch smashers are in their PJ’s and headed for bed. Crotch smashers? You ask. These munchkins are just about inseam length, and can run and hit you at just under warp speed….”hug! Babu!” they plead. “Mercy!!” I manage to squeak out in my best falsetto voice. While this is all happening, the guys that keep the electricity tank full must take their dinner break, because it seems that darkness falls in it’s entirety just about the same time every night. Not every night, but a lot of them. The Aunties that come in for the morning shift can tell which nights it occurs, as the clues aren’t that hard to follow….two kids in the same jammies, bottoms over heads, arms in leg holes and legs in arm holes. So, back to Sunday night, right on schedule the power takes a powder and there we are, dressing by braille…which isn’t all that bad except for the dirty diapers, which as you know, is why I don’t do babies….ask Sandy. Oh, I’ve changed dirty pants before, but mostly they were mine. Anyway, off to bed we go feeling our way. “It’ll be better in the morning”, Jeff’s voice comes from somewhere. (He likes the power company because it give him reasons to wake up every couple of hours and call them) Morning comes…no power, which normally wouldn’t be so bad, except here, morning comes before morning, like in the dark time that you and I might still call night. I got up a bit later, but knew that the power was still off as I saw a 3 yr old walk by on his hands…”hey wait” I say, “he isn’t walking on his hands….he has a shirt on for pants”…and then I notice a whole herd of similarly dressed kids….yup, no power. In fact, no power as the day progressed, night fell, morning arrived, day progressed and evening came. The one good thing that came out of it was Jeff was pretty well occupied on the phone to KPLC…which I think stands for ‘Kenya Power Likely Cancelled’. He call them every couple of hours and it was the same every time: Hello, this is Jeff Picicci with Instep Children’s Home in Sebonga, our electricity is still out” “Hello, this is KPLC, thank you for calling us. We want to serve you well. You say you have not any power? “Yes”, repeats for the 18th time, “I have told you many times today. When can I expect the repair people?” “You say you have not any power. The men are on their way, in fact they are already at your property.” “Then please call a doctor for me, as my vision is failing and I cannot see any KPLC people.” “Yes, and you say you have not any power?” ….and you think that I am using one of my famous exaggerations, not so, ask Jeff…this is almost verbatim….every call….call after call. Now by hour 35+ Jeff actually goes to KPLC office. “Hello, I am Jeff Picicci from Instep in Sebonga, I have been calling you for over 35 hours to get you to respond to the power outage.” “Oh, this is the first we knew. The repair team is now at your property…..where was it, again?” “ I have 90 kids that depend on water from the borehole and food that isn’t spoiled” Jeff pushes. “And so what is your situation?” Staller replies. “Do you know where Victor is?” Jeff sighs as he walks out. Not to be stumped, Jeff tracked down the president of KPLC in Nairobi and explained the situation. A few minutes after getting off the phone, oddly, Alex called and asked for specific directions to Instep. I don’t know what kind of power a president of a company has, but it worked for us. 47 hours later power was back. There is more than 1 miracle in this, but I will tell you about one……..next time.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Installment 11
Installment 11
So, today started in the morning for us and I suppose that it has for you as well. Because it is Sunday, all the kids slept in…..oh wait, I already used that gag. OK, so I’m weak on creativity. I did stay in my room until 7:30 or so, which would be 7:30 or 8:30 pm for most of you…not the ones in Austrailia…did I tell you that I have avid followers in Austrailia? Now that I am being published world wide, I expect that I will be able to support my missionary habit with all the royalties that will be rolling in. That should hold me until I get my patent for snot uses.. I have a small 10 x10 ft room with a bathroom with shower (albeit a suicide shower) sink and toilet. The room also has a view…mostly it is blocked by black faces looking in, but someday I may get to see what is beyond the milling herd. Sometimes I feel like I’m in a zoo, or at least part of a zoo. There must be a sign somewhere that says “Do not feed the Babu” because I can honestly say that I haven’t had any food since I’ve been here….well maybe not so honestly….I guess to come clean, which can’t be done when the kids are around, I have begun to actually LIKE some of the stuff we have for dinners….I keep hearing this voice in my head…”resistance is futile….you will be assimilated” Creeps me out.
Because Toyota was in a bad mood today, we didn’t go into town to visit English Lady. Well that’s not the real reason, but it’s really none of your business, or else I would tell you….that’s the way Jeff put it to me, anyway. So for some unknown reason, the older kids gave me some breathing space today. I hope that it was because they saw that I needed some time to myself, but I suspect that they gathered together for a planning session…I’m sure I will face new tactics and energy tomorrow. The time alone was wonderful, until I realized that I was alone….I know, I should have figure out that time alone means time ALONE. Once again, ‘anticipation trumps realization’ So, after basking in my new found freedom for about 5 minutes, I set out to find the little buggers….when they saw me coming, they all began running for Jeff, screaming “Baba Jeff, Baba Jeff, there is something wrong with Babu!!” Therefore I learned something….offense could be my best defense.
I did some reading, and practicing Swahili…not Jeff’s words, but some I can use around Christian people. There is a local pastor that comes out on Sundays and Wednesdays to love on the kids….I think I told you in one of my earlier volumes. He is a great guy and his wife combs out the girls hair and then braids and probably ties in knots this explosion of brillo that materializes from her combing. They love the kids, and vise versa. Anyway, Pastor Sam…..I think his name might be Sam…hence the Sam part of the name…..I don’t think his first name is Pastor…maybe they reverse their names sometime….yeah, that makes sense, Sam Pastor…..would someone slap me please!! What was I saying…..he told me that his mentor that led him to Christ told him to never trust a white person. So when he began to come to a ‘bible study’ a J & C’s a number of years ago, he stayed very quiet and reserved. Then he felt like God said the he should get involved with Instep.. his immediate response…”get thee behind me, Satan” Why would God use white people? Sometime, I wonder the same thing….or why would He use people. “So what changed your mind?” “or have you” I say, pulling my shirt sleeves and hat down. “Jeff and Carla“…“mostly Carla” (my interpretation) he says. I’m thinking at the time, cool, just exactly what Jesus is up to, using people to touch people….even Jeff….maybe there is hope for me. So PS loves on the kids and keeps pointing them to Jesus….helping to change the world one kid at a time….and God changed PS’s heart to accomplish His work. See, there is hope for all of us.
As the day progressed, I found myself playing with kids and holding babies…unfortunately for me, they have the gift of mind control and so are making me fall in love with them….I’m not to blame! Tonight I tried to read to the older kids, but it began raining so hard that we couldn’t hear ourselves think….which if I ever heard myself think, it would probably scare the bageezus out of me. The roof is tin and the rain is much harder than you can imagine, plus it had hail in it….so much for the tropics. We will try again tomorrow night….oh yeah, the power went out just as I began to read….luv my headlamp. I’m working on a plan to dig my own reservoir to hold electricity so we will have a backup source. There was enough in the air with the storm tonight to keep this place lit up like Vegas.
I’ll quit, so you can get some medication to counter act this blog, but I do want to tell you that I lied about Abigail…she is alittle over 1 years old. On the other hand, Gloria…the baby the ants tried to eat, is really close to walking…she’s probably thinking it’s her only way to escape all these kids...hmm, walking, why didn't I think of that.
So, today started in the morning for us and I suppose that it has for you as well. Because it is Sunday, all the kids slept in…..oh wait, I already used that gag. OK, so I’m weak on creativity. I did stay in my room until 7:30 or so, which would be 7:30 or 8:30 pm for most of you…not the ones in Austrailia…did I tell you that I have avid followers in Austrailia? Now that I am being published world wide, I expect that I will be able to support my missionary habit with all the royalties that will be rolling in. That should hold me until I get my patent for snot uses.. I have a small 10 x10 ft room with a bathroom with shower (albeit a suicide shower) sink and toilet. The room also has a view…mostly it is blocked by black faces looking in, but someday I may get to see what is beyond the milling herd. Sometimes I feel like I’m in a zoo, or at least part of a zoo. There must be a sign somewhere that says “Do not feed the Babu” because I can honestly say that I haven’t had any food since I’ve been here….well maybe not so honestly….I guess to come clean, which can’t be done when the kids are around, I have begun to actually LIKE some of the stuff we have for dinners….I keep hearing this voice in my head…”resistance is futile….you will be assimilated” Creeps me out.
Because Toyota was in a bad mood today, we didn’t go into town to visit English Lady. Well that’s not the real reason, but it’s really none of your business, or else I would tell you….that’s the way Jeff put it to me, anyway. So for some unknown reason, the older kids gave me some breathing space today. I hope that it was because they saw that I needed some time to myself, but I suspect that they gathered together for a planning session…I’m sure I will face new tactics and energy tomorrow. The time alone was wonderful, until I realized that I was alone….I know, I should have figure out that time alone means time ALONE. Once again, ‘anticipation trumps realization’ So, after basking in my new found freedom for about 5 minutes, I set out to find the little buggers….when they saw me coming, they all began running for Jeff, screaming “Baba Jeff, Baba Jeff, there is something wrong with Babu!!” Therefore I learned something….offense could be my best defense.
I did some reading, and practicing Swahili…not Jeff’s words, but some I can use around Christian people. There is a local pastor that comes out on Sundays and Wednesdays to love on the kids….I think I told you in one of my earlier volumes. He is a great guy and his wife combs out the girls hair and then braids and probably ties in knots this explosion of brillo that materializes from her combing. They love the kids, and vise versa. Anyway, Pastor Sam…..I think his name might be Sam…hence the Sam part of the name…..I don’t think his first name is Pastor…maybe they reverse their names sometime….yeah, that makes sense, Sam Pastor…..would someone slap me please!! What was I saying…..he told me that his mentor that led him to Christ told him to never trust a white person. So when he began to come to a ‘bible study’ a J & C’s a number of years ago, he stayed very quiet and reserved. Then he felt like God said the he should get involved with Instep.. his immediate response…”get thee behind me, Satan” Why would God use white people? Sometime, I wonder the same thing….or why would He use people. “So what changed your mind?” “or have you” I say, pulling my shirt sleeves and hat down. “Jeff and Carla“…“mostly Carla” (my interpretation) he says. I’m thinking at the time, cool, just exactly what Jesus is up to, using people to touch people….even Jeff….maybe there is hope for me. So PS loves on the kids and keeps pointing them to Jesus….helping to change the world one kid at a time….and God changed PS’s heart to accomplish His work. See, there is hope for all of us.
As the day progressed, I found myself playing with kids and holding babies…unfortunately for me, they have the gift of mind control and so are making me fall in love with them….I’m not to blame! Tonight I tried to read to the older kids, but it began raining so hard that we couldn’t hear ourselves think….which if I ever heard myself think, it would probably scare the bageezus out of me. The roof is tin and the rain is much harder than you can imagine, plus it had hail in it….so much for the tropics. We will try again tomorrow night….oh yeah, the power went out just as I began to read….luv my headlamp. I’m working on a plan to dig my own reservoir to hold electricity so we will have a backup source. There was enough in the air with the storm tonight to keep this place lit up like Vegas.
I’ll quit, so you can get some medication to counter act this blog, but I do want to tell you that I lied about Abigail…she is alittle over 1 years old. On the other hand, Gloria…the baby the ants tried to eat, is really close to walking…she’s probably thinking it’s her only way to escape all these kids...hmm, walking, why didn't I think of that.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Installment 10
Installment 10
I’m beginning to lose track of how many days I’ve been here, so I guess it’s time to start just using installments, so now I’m on the installment plan just like any good American. I met with one of the men that we might contract to build the next building today. We spent about 2 hours talking and looking at the blueprints. Skeptical at first…..both of us,,, me of his knowledge and abilities, and he of my intrusion into his world, we soon overcame our mutual distrust and settled down to circling each other looking for an opening. As I opened the blueprints for the clinic, I smoothed them out with my hands and asked if he knew what these were. “Those are hands.” he said, “I am familiar with them,,,,see, I have them too, but mine are not that pale sickly color.” “Hmmm” I thought, “it’s going to be hard to stump him.” “Do you know what is under my hands? “Those are blueprint plans for building information,” he replies. “Good answer,” I say, trying to encourage him….”Do you know how to read and understand them? Jackson, (I call him Jackson because he says that is his name), explains, “I went to school to learn building and have been building for many years…..do you know how to read them??” Feeling relief that at least one of us knows how to read blueprints, I press in…”When you say building, do you mean buildings?” I pretty much knew I had caught him off guard. With a hint of Jeff’s look, he asked “Do you know where Victor is?” And so began what we both fear is a long relationship. As luck would have it, he did understand what all the lines and numbers meant and even the engineering sheet….now I have an idea too…but I still like the nice blue color of the paper. Perhaps I can learn the Kenyan way of building from him and he can learn to expand his ’Swahili’ from me….but I have yet to talk to another builder. We have the weather on our side for now and we hope to pull the trigger on getting the building started very soon.
I spent quite abit of the last two days designing administrative form for the builder to use to keep strict account of time and materials. Also, because of my background (also a builder…yes, of buildings) and that I am the best legal mind in my room, I have written what I hope is an airtite contract for the builder to agree to. Airtite, now there’s a term that I understand because it makes no sense. If you have the time and umph, might you pray that we choose the right contractor for this project? TIA and the wheels turn slow here, except on the vehicles coming at you, and the weather won’t hold forever, plus Sandy says that I MUST come home this year, so we need to get started. Even with all that pressing in, there is one other major factor….Carla says that because of so many kids, it won’t be long before they will put a couple in MY room….”but I don’t like kids.” I said. “Right!…you’re catching on……how’s that building coming along??” she smiles
One of the new kids is Matthew. He was born in December along side of the road…I guess his mother had something ’important’ to do as she forgot to take him with her when she went off down the road. I’m sure that Matthew said something like “Hey wait, aren’t we supposed to at least get to know each other?” Something like that, anyway. Once again, God has his ’search and rescue’ squads. Someone came by…maybe an angel…maybe just someone God used, and picked the little guy up and took him to the police. “I know just what to do with this little guy” says the police. “He needs a mom and dad and a family, and a mzungu to torment as he grows up.” So, here he is, already sizing me up. Soon, he will become a producing member of the snot community.
Yesterday, I was sneaking thru the veranda, seconds head of the big kids when I saw Abigail stand up and take a step. I think it was her first….am I a proud mzungu or what. Abby is the baby that Sandy is holding in that classic picture I took in Oct. She, yes, actually both of them, had typhoid. I don’t know how old she is, but probably around 6 or 7 months…maybe 8. Pretty cool huh? Oh crap! I’m beginning to realize my worst fears……liking kids. Pray for me….I mean it!
Getting lots of maintenance done….like it matters…90 kids can pretty much stay ahead of a Navy construction battalion. “hey, where’s Babu?” “I don’t know,,,let’s break something and he will come and fix it.” one says, setting the trap. I fall for it every time.
I’m beginning to lose track of how many days I’ve been here, so I guess it’s time to start just using installments, so now I’m on the installment plan just like any good American. I met with one of the men that we might contract to build the next building today. We spent about 2 hours talking and looking at the blueprints. Skeptical at first…..both of us,,, me of his knowledge and abilities, and he of my intrusion into his world, we soon overcame our mutual distrust and settled down to circling each other looking for an opening. As I opened the blueprints for the clinic, I smoothed them out with my hands and asked if he knew what these were. “Those are hands.” he said, “I am familiar with them,,,,see, I have them too, but mine are not that pale sickly color.” “Hmmm” I thought, “it’s going to be hard to stump him.” “Do you know what is under my hands? “Those are blueprint plans for building information,” he replies. “Good answer,” I say, trying to encourage him….”Do you know how to read and understand them? Jackson, (I call him Jackson because he says that is his name), explains, “I went to school to learn building and have been building for many years…..do you know how to read them??” Feeling relief that at least one of us knows how to read blueprints, I press in…”When you say building, do you mean buildings?” I pretty much knew I had caught him off guard. With a hint of Jeff’s look, he asked “Do you know where Victor is?” And so began what we both fear is a long relationship. As luck would have it, he did understand what all the lines and numbers meant and even the engineering sheet….now I have an idea too…but I still like the nice blue color of the paper. Perhaps I can learn the Kenyan way of building from him and he can learn to expand his ’Swahili’ from me….but I have yet to talk to another builder. We have the weather on our side for now and we hope to pull the trigger on getting the building started very soon.
I spent quite abit of the last two days designing administrative form for the builder to use to keep strict account of time and materials. Also, because of my background (also a builder…yes, of buildings) and that I am the best legal mind in my room, I have written what I hope is an airtite contract for the builder to agree to. Airtite, now there’s a term that I understand because it makes no sense. If you have the time and umph, might you pray that we choose the right contractor for this project? TIA and the wheels turn slow here, except on the vehicles coming at you, and the weather won’t hold forever, plus Sandy says that I MUST come home this year, so we need to get started. Even with all that pressing in, there is one other major factor….Carla says that because of so many kids, it won’t be long before they will put a couple in MY room….”but I don’t like kids.” I said. “Right!…you’re catching on……how’s that building coming along??” she smiles
One of the new kids is Matthew. He was born in December along side of the road…I guess his mother had something ’important’ to do as she forgot to take him with her when she went off down the road. I’m sure that Matthew said something like “Hey wait, aren’t we supposed to at least get to know each other?” Something like that, anyway. Once again, God has his ’search and rescue’ squads. Someone came by…maybe an angel…maybe just someone God used, and picked the little guy up and took him to the police. “I know just what to do with this little guy” says the police. “He needs a mom and dad and a family, and a mzungu to torment as he grows up.” So, here he is, already sizing me up. Soon, he will become a producing member of the snot community.
Yesterday, I was sneaking thru the veranda, seconds head of the big kids when I saw Abigail stand up and take a step. I think it was her first….am I a proud mzungu or what. Abby is the baby that Sandy is holding in that classic picture I took in Oct. She, yes, actually both of them, had typhoid. I don’t know how old she is, but probably around 6 or 7 months…maybe 8. Pretty cool huh? Oh crap! I’m beginning to realize my worst fears……liking kids. Pray for me….I mean it!
Getting lots of maintenance done….like it matters…90 kids can pretty much stay ahead of a Navy construction battalion. “hey, where’s Babu?” “I don’t know,,,let’s break something and he will come and fix it.” one says, setting the trap. I fall for it every time.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
2011 day 11, installment 9
2011 day 11, installment 9
Let me tell you about Churchill…no, not THE Churchill, but the one that lives here. He is one of the older kids that have taken an oath to keep me in Kenya…like they don’t have enough problems in this country already. Churchill is 10 years old and stands about 3’ 6” tall….just kidding, but he is short for his age. He is what I think of when someone mentions Mr Personality. He almost always is upbeat and smiling. When he was about 5, his mother left him and his younger brother with her sister and supposedly went to Uganda, which isn’t that far, to get money for the rent. While she was gone, the sister got mad over something and took the 2 kids to the local Children’s Services and said they were abandoned kids. Services call J & C and asked if they could take them…Churchill being 5, was too old, but because of his brother…2 yrs, they consented. While at the hospital for some testing, a lady said she knew these kids and their mother. J & C asked Services to follow up and see it was true. Talking to Churchy, he said he knew where he lived and led them to the house…..5 yrs old, and Kitale isn’t that small. When they tracked the mother down, right where Churchy said, she said she would take the kids, but that she was moving, which looked to be true, and would get the kids on such and such a date. Churchill was old enough to get it and was quite excited about reuniting with his mom. So the day comes and J & C take the kids into town for the rendezvous. She didn’t show. Can you imagine a 5 yr old who’s mom completely blows him off? I know that my kids would come unglued….as did Churchill. Hopes up….crushed! 5 yrs old! So he and his little brother are here…more than likely much better off, but thrown away by “mom”. So, it’s been almost 5 yrs now. Churchy is Mr Personality and fun to be around….what’s past is past….well not really, Carla told me today that Churchy seemed blue the other day. “What’s wrong, Churchy?” she asked. “I miss my mother. he said….5 yrs later You and I…we’ve mostly had it pretty good.
Last night, after I had snuck into my lair, a Children’s Services man came with a bunch of papers, and asked for a signature…. “For what” asked Jeff. “That would be for ‘who’” said CS man. I brought you a blessing…..her name IS Blessing, and she is 3 months old. Her mother gave birth in the hospital in another district and skipped out….that was in October. Blessing has been in the hospital ever since. She must have indicated that she would like a real mom and dad. “I know just the perfect ones” CS man beams. “and you will have ‘some’ brothers and sisters too….like saying America has ’some’ debt. So, I haven’t officially met Blessing yet, but I will put on a clean shirt for dinner and maybe ’do babies’. Maytag, Whirlpool and I have become quite good friends…they take care of me and I guarantee them a lifelong job. Well, I correct myself..I have officially met Blessing….like most women I have met, she took right to me. Carla said it might have something to do with the bottle that I was holding. She likes to massage my ego like that. Anyway, I find that the longer that I am here, and mostly the longer I am away from my best friend, I seem to like to be around the kids….I know, it’s way past time that I went in for a psychiatric exam. Tonight I found myself feeding 2 of the newborns at the same time,,,,bad enough by it’s self, but the kids are beginning to call me ‘Auntie Babu’. What’s next…an apron??
Thanks to my favorite Son-in-Law, I have found ’google translator’ and am trying to learn some Swahili…especially “GO AWAY…kwenda mbali….and ’I Hear your Mother calling!…Mimi kusikia mama yako wito… To which Carla is always giving me the Jeff look…..she’s better at it than Jeff . Hey, Carla, I didn’t have all these kids!! But translator is a dynamite program and when I can get on line, I am working on learning. I think it’s easier for the 2 and 3 yr olds to learn….DUH! I do need to learn some basics, as the default language for the kids and adults is Swahili….maybe in time I might master Swa-indi-lish, and can do my own shopping.
Just so you know, it is the dry season, which has taken away some of my best material. It runs about mid to high 80’s (27 to 29 C for you Canadians) in the day and probably the mid to low 70’s and night (23 to 26 C). I normally don’t cater to Canadians, but there are 2 or 3 that follow this blog, and that is close to a majority.
Grace….you might remember is the oldest kid here and had to quit school to take care of here 3 siblings at 10 years of age. Last winter she had to take the ‘all Kenya’ 8th grade exam. (See an earlier posting) Her scores weren’t all that good, and that test determines where and what school they attend for secondary (high school). So she wasn’t called by any schools and it didn’t look so good for her continuing education. J & C, like all good parents began approaching different schools with no results. It seemed that the only option was a school not far from here…not the best, but at least it was school. Gracie took it pretty hard, with lots of tears and asked if J & C would try this one school that she really wanted to go to…..fat chance with her scores. Yep, fat chance…except, remember, this is a place of miracles. Jeff went and explained Gracie’s scores and asked if there was anyway she might attend. Do I need to tell you more?? They said that one of the kids that they had admitted hadn’t responded and that they were willing to give Gracie a chance. This happens to be an excellent school.. So, was she excited, or what. It is a boarding school, not uncommon here, and is not free like our schools. The cost is about 50000 schillings per year for room, board and classes. That’s about $700.00 US. Or one flat screen TV. So, since God has done it again, I know that at least one of you wants to sponsor her….don’t you…. So go to the website:
Well enough rambling for tonight...I’m even boring myself….but then I’m used to it. Let’s all see what happens tomorrow….and remember men, if you can’t be handsome, be handy…..you can change,,,,,,, if you have to,,,,,,,, I guesswww.rehemainstep.com and donate….just tag it to Grace.. This will change her life and make it possible for her to succeed. You might be praying about this schooling issue, as there is 88 others coming up….Peter is already in another boarding school. The dream here is that God will provide their own secondary school.
Let me tell you about Churchill…no, not THE Churchill, but the one that lives here. He is one of the older kids that have taken an oath to keep me in Kenya…like they don’t have enough problems in this country already. Churchill is 10 years old and stands about 3’ 6” tall….just kidding, but he is short for his age. He is what I think of when someone mentions Mr Personality. He almost always is upbeat and smiling. When he was about 5, his mother left him and his younger brother with her sister and supposedly went to Uganda, which isn’t that far, to get money for the rent. While she was gone, the sister got mad over something and took the 2 kids to the local Children’s Services and said they were abandoned kids. Services call J & C and asked if they could take them…Churchill being 5, was too old, but because of his brother…2 yrs, they consented. While at the hospital for some testing, a lady said she knew these kids and their mother. J & C asked Services to follow up and see it was true. Talking to Churchy, he said he knew where he lived and led them to the house…..5 yrs old, and Kitale isn’t that small. When they tracked the mother down, right where Churchy said, she said she would take the kids, but that she was moving, which looked to be true, and would get the kids on such and such a date. Churchill was old enough to get it and was quite excited about reuniting with his mom. So the day comes and J & C take the kids into town for the rendezvous. She didn’t show. Can you imagine a 5 yr old who’s mom completely blows him off? I know that my kids would come unglued….as did Churchill. Hopes up….crushed! 5 yrs old! So he and his little brother are here…more than likely much better off, but thrown away by “mom”. So, it’s been almost 5 yrs now. Churchy is Mr Personality and fun to be around….what’s past is past….well not really, Carla told me today that Churchy seemed blue the other day. “What’s wrong, Churchy?” she asked. “I miss my mother. he said….5 yrs later You and I…we’ve mostly had it pretty good.
Last night, after I had snuck into my lair, a Children’s Services man came with a bunch of papers, and asked for a signature…. “For what” asked Jeff. “That would be for ‘who’” said CS man. I brought you a blessing…..her name IS Blessing, and she is 3 months old. Her mother gave birth in the hospital in another district and skipped out….that was in October. Blessing has been in the hospital ever since. She must have indicated that she would like a real mom and dad. “I know just the perfect ones” CS man beams. “and you will have ‘some’ brothers and sisters too….like saying America has ’some’ debt. So, I haven’t officially met Blessing yet, but I will put on a clean shirt for dinner and maybe ’do babies’. Maytag, Whirlpool and I have become quite good friends…they take care of me and I guarantee them a lifelong job. Well, I correct myself..I have officially met Blessing….like most women I have met, she took right to me. Carla said it might have something to do with the bottle that I was holding. She likes to massage my ego like that. Anyway, I find that the longer that I am here, and mostly the longer I am away from my best friend, I seem to like to be around the kids….I know, it’s way past time that I went in for a psychiatric exam. Tonight I found myself feeding 2 of the newborns at the same time,,,,bad enough by it’s self, but the kids are beginning to call me ‘Auntie Babu’. What’s next…an apron??
Thanks to my favorite Son-in-Law, I have found ’google translator’ and am trying to learn some Swahili…especially “GO AWAY…kwenda mbali….and ’I Hear your Mother calling!…Mimi kusikia mama yako wito… To which Carla is always giving me the Jeff look…..she’s better at it than Jeff . Hey, Carla, I didn’t have all these kids!! But translator is a dynamite program and when I can get on line, I am working on learning. I think it’s easier for the 2 and 3 yr olds to learn….DUH! I do need to learn some basics, as the default language for the kids and adults is Swahili….maybe in time I might master Swa-indi-lish, and can do my own shopping.
Just so you know, it is the dry season, which has taken away some of my best material. It runs about mid to high 80’s (27 to 29 C for you Canadians) in the day and probably the mid to low 70’s and night (23 to 26 C). I normally don’t cater to Canadians, but there are 2 or 3 that follow this blog, and that is close to a majority.
Grace….you might remember is the oldest kid here and had to quit school to take care of here 3 siblings at 10 years of age. Last winter she had to take the ‘all Kenya’ 8th grade exam. (See an earlier posting) Her scores weren’t all that good, and that test determines where and what school they attend for secondary (high school). So she wasn’t called by any schools and it didn’t look so good for her continuing education. J & C, like all good parents began approaching different schools with no results. It seemed that the only option was a school not far from here…not the best, but at least it was school. Gracie took it pretty hard, with lots of tears and asked if J & C would try this one school that she really wanted to go to…..fat chance with her scores. Yep, fat chance…except, remember, this is a place of miracles. Jeff went and explained Gracie’s scores and asked if there was anyway she might attend. Do I need to tell you more?? They said that one of the kids that they had admitted hadn’t responded and that they were willing to give Gracie a chance. This happens to be an excellent school.. So, was she excited, or what. It is a boarding school, not uncommon here, and is not free like our schools. The cost is about 50000 schillings per year for room, board and classes. That’s about $700.00 US. Or one flat screen TV. So, since God has done it again, I know that at least one of you wants to sponsor her….don’t you…. So go to the website:
Well enough rambling for tonight...I’m even boring myself….but then I’m used to it. Let’s all see what happens tomorrow….and remember men, if you can’t be handsome, be handy…..you can change,,,,,,, if you have to,,,,,,,, I guesswww.rehemainstep.com and donate….just tag it to Grace.. This will change her life and make it possible for her to succeed. You might be praying about this schooling issue, as there is 88 others coming up….Peter is already in another boarding school. The dream here is that God will provide their own secondary school.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
2011 day 9, installment 8
2011 day 9, installment 8
Sean and Meredith came today to stay for a couple of days. As we introduced ourselves M says “so you are Safarislim?” “Yes, the well known literary genius.” I said with humbly, beginning to grasp the magnitude of my reputation. “Then please have the courtesy of staying away from S and I!” she exclaimed. Now some of you would think that she didn’t want to have me any where near them. Not the case. I have this happen often. I have come to understand that it is their basic survival instinct kicking in. Being around celebrities like me can be dangerous as sometimes the fans get too aggressive, or the Paparazzi can cause harm if someone gets between them and me. With the deference that I have cultivated toward others needs, I immediately said, “No problem, care to hear my testimony?” Jeff said to S & M, “come with me, I want to teach you something….you will find it quite useful when dealing with Terry.” I’m excited to spend some time with them when they return…..it’s only been 6 hrs since they went with Jeff.
S & M are Canadians. I told them “not to worry, I will forgive you.” They are from the Toronto area….and yes, you from Anacortes, Toronto is in Canada. They met like 10 years ago and when M took S’s hand in hers, she whispered “you’re going to marry me.” Backing slowly away, S said, “Oh, eh.“ About 8 years later, S (which stands for ‘Slow to get It) came back and found M (which stands for Marry Me) and married her. They both assured me that this is a common occurrence in Canada. Goes something like this; “hello, eh, my name is Brunhilda eh.” “hello, eh, my name is Boris, eh and now that we have met, I see that we will be married, eh.” “I will be back in 8 years, eh.” And so the tradition was kept alive by this wonderful couple. So after a 25 minute honeymoon, they got on a plane and landed in Kenya. And like ‘western’ missionaries, (and yes, you from Anacortes, Canada, though just out of the 19th century is considered ‘the west’) got off the plane carrying a calendar and a bible. You know what the bible is for, but the calendar??? Why, it has the date marked on it in which every single Kenyan will have given their heart to Jesus. All western missionaries are issued one when they check their brain at the ‘Go into all the world’ counter. So, now it’s been 2 years and I asked S & M how the calendar thing was going. “We sent it back and asked for our brains to be sent back to us…..they should be here soon, but TIA.” “Good luck with that,“ I say. (using my gift for encouragement) In the mean time, they have been involved in another ministry with kids in Kitale, called TI…short for Transformed International or Transforming International or Texas Allstars or Try Anything. It was started by a man who used to be my friend. His name is Daniel. I call him Daniel the Snakecharmer stealer. Remember, Snakecharmer, she was content to be an old maid, dreaming of meeting a man like me, working at Instep, stepping on snakes, and digesting ugali, when Daniel comes and offers her a better deal…..I’m not sure if he meant him or the ministry. Needless to say, I’m married, and maybe abit old for her, so she took him up on it and waalaa they are going to be married in May. I tried to talk them into a traditional Canadian courtship…..but, you do the math….hormones…time… .hormones…time…
So, Jeff says, “gird up your loins, we are going to town” I’m thinking I don’t even know if I have loins, and if I do I don’t know how to ‘gird’….but because it sounded biblical, I replied, “whither thou goest, I shall go.” Off to town STGI, me and Jeff go. No sense me going into all the ’road stories, but it is much easier to find them in the dry season…you just follow the dust. With all the dust blowing off the roads, you’d think that all the local roads would be in the Sudan by now…..maybe on of the good purposes of the wheel weights is to anchor what’s left of the roads….. Upon entering Kitale, there was a sign strung over the street that said ‘DayCare’ at such and such address. Jeff breaths a sigh of relief and says, “ Now I know what I can do with you for a few hours, there Terry.” It actually wasn’t so bad, either…..maybe some of the kids were abit immature….for 2 yr olds. Later the boys came and picked me up and we went to ’Architect’. Turns out, he IS an architect! We spent some time there talking about some topographical issues. Having been a builder for almost 40 years, I just stood there, nodding and pretending that I knew what they were talking about….might have fooled Architect too if I hadn’t said something about all the funny squiggly lines…”do you color them in?” The jungle telegraph is very efficient and so Jeff’s ‘look’ has spread far and wide. “I used to want to go to America” A says, “but now I’m not so sure.” Anyway, having transferred some actual valuable information, somehow, A will get back to us and maybe we are one step closer to starting the Clinic and 1st Dorm…. Let’s hope so.
Then we went over to this building with a door that had a little door in it that had a sliding cover. Jeff tapped 3 times, waited and then 2 more times. The little door opened. “Gueedo sent me” Jeff whispers. The door opened and we were quickly ushered in. Inside, it looked like a small restaurant. We sat down and looked at what appeared to be a menu with real food items on it…well not the food itself, but listings of it. We ordered, and waited for the food. I knew it was some kind of sadistic joke on Jeff’s part, but I played along as it gives J a feeling of power to mock me. The food came and I was shocked, I mean shocked….”did we go through some kind of “wormhole” in space and end up in civilization?” I asked. “Did you notice that I had to use a password to get in here?” Jeff reminded me. “This place is illegal, because it serves food that you can enjoy.” he says.
After that we went to the market and J and STGI went in, while I stood outside with the security guard trying to explain who I was…”No pets in the shop” he kept saying.
Having spent such a wonderful day with 2 yr olds, architects, real food, and STGI, even the ride home couldn’t dampen my spirits….I even got to ride up front….no not on the hood, though I have done that,…front seat. We got home just in time to witness the feeding of the multitude and for me to spend some time acting like I enjoy the kids….all show, as you know. Had a nice time with Jeff, Carla and the Canadians for the evening. Canadians aren’t as bad as I once thought. Maybe I should talk about some of the new kids….maybe next time…try and remind me, would you.
Sean and Meredith came today to stay for a couple of days. As we introduced ourselves M says “so you are Safarislim?” “Yes, the well known literary genius.” I said with humbly, beginning to grasp the magnitude of my reputation. “Then please have the courtesy of staying away from S and I!” she exclaimed. Now some of you would think that she didn’t want to have me any where near them. Not the case. I have this happen often. I have come to understand that it is their basic survival instinct kicking in. Being around celebrities like me can be dangerous as sometimes the fans get too aggressive, or the Paparazzi can cause harm if someone gets between them and me. With the deference that I have cultivated toward others needs, I immediately said, “No problem, care to hear my testimony?” Jeff said to S & M, “come with me, I want to teach you something….you will find it quite useful when dealing with Terry.” I’m excited to spend some time with them when they return…..it’s only been 6 hrs since they went with Jeff.
S & M are Canadians. I told them “not to worry, I will forgive you.” They are from the Toronto area….and yes, you from Anacortes, Toronto is in Canada. They met like 10 years ago and when M took S’s hand in hers, she whispered “you’re going to marry me.” Backing slowly away, S said, “Oh, eh.“ About 8 years later, S (which stands for ‘Slow to get It) came back and found M (which stands for Marry Me) and married her. They both assured me that this is a common occurrence in Canada. Goes something like this; “hello, eh, my name is Brunhilda eh.” “hello, eh, my name is Boris, eh and now that we have met, I see that we will be married, eh.” “I will be back in 8 years, eh.” And so the tradition was kept alive by this wonderful couple. So after a 25 minute honeymoon, they got on a plane and landed in Kenya. And like ‘western’ missionaries, (and yes, you from Anacortes, Canada, though just out of the 19th century is considered ‘the west’) got off the plane carrying a calendar and a bible. You know what the bible is for, but the calendar??? Why, it has the date marked on it in which every single Kenyan will have given their heart to Jesus. All western missionaries are issued one when they check their brain at the ‘Go into all the world’ counter. So, now it’s been 2 years and I asked S & M how the calendar thing was going. “We sent it back and asked for our brains to be sent back to us…..they should be here soon, but TIA.” “Good luck with that,“ I say. (using my gift for encouragement) In the mean time, they have been involved in another ministry with kids in Kitale, called TI…short for Transformed International or Transforming International or Texas Allstars or Try Anything. It was started by a man who used to be my friend. His name is Daniel. I call him Daniel the Snakecharmer stealer. Remember, Snakecharmer, she was content to be an old maid, dreaming of meeting a man like me, working at Instep, stepping on snakes, and digesting ugali, when Daniel comes and offers her a better deal…..I’m not sure if he meant him or the ministry. Needless to say, I’m married, and maybe abit old for her, so she took him up on it and waalaa they are going to be married in May. I tried to talk them into a traditional Canadian courtship…..but, you do the math….hormones…time… .hormones…time…
So, Jeff says, “gird up your loins, we are going to town” I’m thinking I don’t even know if I have loins, and if I do I don’t know how to ‘gird’….but because it sounded biblical, I replied, “whither thou goest, I shall go.” Off to town STGI, me and Jeff go. No sense me going into all the ’road stories, but it is much easier to find them in the dry season…you just follow the dust. With all the dust blowing off the roads, you’d think that all the local roads would be in the Sudan by now…..maybe on of the good purposes of the wheel weights is to anchor what’s left of the roads….. Upon entering Kitale, there was a sign strung over the street that said ‘DayCare’ at such and such address. Jeff breaths a sigh of relief and says, “ Now I know what I can do with you for a few hours, there Terry.” It actually wasn’t so bad, either…..maybe some of the kids were abit immature….for 2 yr olds. Later the boys came and picked me up and we went to ’Architect’. Turns out, he IS an architect! We spent some time there talking about some topographical issues. Having been a builder for almost 40 years, I just stood there, nodding and pretending that I knew what they were talking about….might have fooled Architect too if I hadn’t said something about all the funny squiggly lines…”do you color them in?” The jungle telegraph is very efficient and so Jeff’s ‘look’ has spread far and wide. “I used to want to go to America” A says, “but now I’m not so sure.” Anyway, having transferred some actual valuable information, somehow, A will get back to us and maybe we are one step closer to starting the Clinic and 1st Dorm…. Let’s hope so.
Then we went over to this building with a door that had a little door in it that had a sliding cover. Jeff tapped 3 times, waited and then 2 more times. The little door opened. “Gueedo sent me” Jeff whispers. The door opened and we were quickly ushered in. Inside, it looked like a small restaurant. We sat down and looked at what appeared to be a menu with real food items on it…well not the food itself, but listings of it. We ordered, and waited for the food. I knew it was some kind of sadistic joke on Jeff’s part, but I played along as it gives J a feeling of power to mock me. The food came and I was shocked, I mean shocked….”did we go through some kind of “wormhole” in space and end up in civilization?” I asked. “Did you notice that I had to use a password to get in here?” Jeff reminded me. “This place is illegal, because it serves food that you can enjoy.” he says.
After that we went to the market and J and STGI went in, while I stood outside with the security guard trying to explain who I was…”No pets in the shop” he kept saying.
Having spent such a wonderful day with 2 yr olds, architects, real food, and STGI, even the ride home couldn’t dampen my spirits….I even got to ride up front….no not on the hood, though I have done that,…front seat. We got home just in time to witness the feeding of the multitude and for me to spend some time acting like I enjoy the kids….all show, as you know. Had a nice time with Jeff, Carla and the Canadians for the evening. Canadians aren’t as bad as I once thought. Maybe I should talk about some of the new kids….maybe next time…try and remind me, would you.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
2011 day 7, installment 7
2011 day 7, installment 7
I don’t think that I mentioned the food since I got here. That may be because there isn’t any. They do give us stuff that we ingest, but mostly it’s what Jeff calls ‘mystery grub’. Friday night we always have fish and ugali…this last Friday being no exception. I was concerned whether we had any fish, but Jeff quieted my anxiety and told me that he had saved some fish from when we were here in October. I need to tell you that fish is not like fine wine….aging does not have a desirable effect. The good thing was that once I got my skill saw out and cut off some ugali, and put the “fish” on it, something remarkable happened. Now you that have endured this blog from the beginning (shame on you) know that ugali has zero flavor and actually has the capacity to suck any flavor out of anything it gets near…..see where I’m going with the “fish”?? Much to my surprise, and tenacious chewing, the ‘dinner’ was consumed and I was free to move on to find some other disgusting things to involve myself in.
Saturday morning started at the beginning of the day, which isn’t unusual here. My initial thought was, “ I hope that ugali digests before next Friday”. Then as is my custom, I slicked back the hair coming out my ears and combed the longer nose hairs into my mustache…now I was ready to get to it….today’s task…to find a new hiding place, as these little buggers are like bloodhounds and are hard to avoid….I think they can smell me. (Note to self..stop using my cologne..Deet). Jeff had other ideas and asked me for a urine sample. “any particular reason?” I asked, fearing that he suspected that I had picked up some terminal tropical disease…knowing that I have not built up a complete immunity to various snot related conditions. “Just checking the blood level to see if you are ready to go another round with Toyota and the “roads”. he says with a straight face. “Why,,, did I do something to offend you again?” I respond. “That goes without saying” he says, “but we have bigger fish to fry”. “Pleeeeze don’t mention fish.” I plead. “Today is the day that we go to town and buy the school age kids new shoes for school, we do it once a year in January or February.” Not withstanding the pictures you have seen of all the African children going barefoot with distended stomachs, here the kids wear nice leather shoes to school. Oh, they have distended stomachs, but not from starvation….it”s actually the undigested ugali. So, waiting until the outside temperature rose to an almost unbearable point, Jeff and Carla got into the front of Toyota. “Where do I sit?” I asked. “Well, there isn’t room up here!” he says, pointing to the teaming masses swarming in the back. “Maybe I could sit on Carla’s lap.” I say using my best ‘5 year old, oh the poor orphan caretaker’ voice. Expecting to play upon their sympathies, I was shocked to get one of Jeff’s “what a dumb***” looks from Carla. From Carla!!! So, around to the back I slithered, trying my best to remember some of Jeff ‘Swahili’. I opened the door expecting the worst….I wasn’t disappointed. There, living and breathing as one organism were 10 self trained mzungu fighters. They had heard I was coming along and so were primed to do their best…..and they are darned good at it too. “Would you kind children mind if I came in and joined you?” I asked in my most “I’m one of you voices”. “Please come in” they said in unison, all smiles. But, I knew they had a plan….bait him in and when the door is shut, we make our move…..and so it went. I will spare you the details, as you might be eating or have small children of your own around. There was an upside for me. Being on the floor of Toyota, under the 10, the shock of the potholes was distributed evenly over my body. As a side note, I have notice that the more I travel the ‘roads’ here the more my skin seems to darken, especially in the places I had made rapid contact with parts of Toyota.
Ok, so we get to Kitale and go to an actual 21st century shoe shop. They did have a guard outside for the riffraff, but I huddled inside the herd of kids and managed to get through. Inside, I overheard the clerks mumble something in Swahili under their breaths and began to fit shoes….it went something like this, “Kelvin, let’s measure your foot….ah good, you are a size 4, let’s try it on.” “Both of us?” Kelvin responds. “(more Swahili) No, just you….ah very good the other foot please. Why is it smaller…..oh,,,your other foot Kelvin, not yours Veronica.” And so it went. Later, after going through 6 or 7 clerks, Jeff laid down about $130.00 US (try that in the US for 10 pr nice leather shoes and 20 pr socks), and we filed out to the cheers of the clerks. Once, outside the guard noticed me and yelled, “Hey, how did you get in there?” “It’s OK” Jeff said, “he is the kid’s pet”. “They could do better” says the guard. And so goes the respect that I garner here. After going to the Kenyan Ferrier, we headed to another coffee shop so as not to ruin the relationship with English Lady, and had a ‘lunch’. Seeing that the kids were winding, down, Jeff grinned and said, “we need to go over to English Lady’s and get some ice cream…Babu will get away too lightly on the way home.”….Always thinking of my welfare! Once inside E L’s the kids began adding flavoring to their clothes while I talked to another mzungu. He turned out to know some things that I did not, like how to raise fish for food in this country. As he explained how to use tanks or ponds to raise the fish, I said it sounded like a considerable capital investment and by the way, would you be talking of edible fish?. “Yes” he says, “but what else can we do?” I said, “Look, most of the groundwork for ponds is already done. Have you considered waiting for the rainy season and using the potholes?” Looking at Jeff, who shrugged, he quietly excused himself, whispering something in Swahili. When I see him again, I have some more good ideas for his project.
Jump to arriving at the home. Though I was tired, bruised and pretty much done with ‘doing kids’, I had promised to help some of them do a wood project. So we went to the new saw and they watched as I cut out some parts for ‘airplanes’. I don’t know if they were really interested, or if they thought I’d sneak off…..which I would have, of course. After helping them put together the planes, they seemed content to wonder off……that is until they saw me carrying a couple of hand tools towards the big building. Me, “GO AWAY!!” Them, “We are going away with you.” Now I know why the CIA carries cyanide capsules. With 11 of us standing in one doorway, I managed to replace a lockset with a new one that didn’t work. But on the bright side, I was an experienced Kenyan lockset installer as I put the old one back in……the kids are beginning to capture Jeff’s ‘look’.
I didn’t think it was possible, but the day ended and I shucked the kids and retired to one of my secret places. You know….only I and 89 kids know where it is.
I don’t think that I mentioned the food since I got here. That may be because there isn’t any. They do give us stuff that we ingest, but mostly it’s what Jeff calls ‘mystery grub’. Friday night we always have fish and ugali…this last Friday being no exception. I was concerned whether we had any fish, but Jeff quieted my anxiety and told me that he had saved some fish from when we were here in October. I need to tell you that fish is not like fine wine….aging does not have a desirable effect. The good thing was that once I got my skill saw out and cut off some ugali, and put the “fish” on it, something remarkable happened. Now you that have endured this blog from the beginning (shame on you) know that ugali has zero flavor and actually has the capacity to suck any flavor out of anything it gets near…..see where I’m going with the “fish”?? Much to my surprise, and tenacious chewing, the ‘dinner’ was consumed and I was free to move on to find some other disgusting things to involve myself in.
Saturday morning started at the beginning of the day, which isn’t unusual here. My initial thought was, “ I hope that ugali digests before next Friday”. Then as is my custom, I slicked back the hair coming out my ears and combed the longer nose hairs into my mustache…now I was ready to get to it….today’s task…to find a new hiding place, as these little buggers are like bloodhounds and are hard to avoid….I think they can smell me. (Note to self..stop using my cologne..Deet). Jeff had other ideas and asked me for a urine sample. “any particular reason?” I asked, fearing that he suspected that I had picked up some terminal tropical disease…knowing that I have not built up a complete immunity to various snot related conditions. “Just checking the blood level to see if you are ready to go another round with Toyota and the “roads”. he says with a straight face. “Why,,, did I do something to offend you again?” I respond. “That goes without saying” he says, “but we have bigger fish to fry”. “Pleeeeze don’t mention fish.” I plead. “Today is the day that we go to town and buy the school age kids new shoes for school, we do it once a year in January or February.” Not withstanding the pictures you have seen of all the African children going barefoot with distended stomachs, here the kids wear nice leather shoes to school. Oh, they have distended stomachs, but not from starvation….it”s actually the undigested ugali. So, waiting until the outside temperature rose to an almost unbearable point, Jeff and Carla got into the front of Toyota. “Where do I sit?” I asked. “Well, there isn’t room up here!” he says, pointing to the teaming masses swarming in the back. “Maybe I could sit on Carla’s lap.” I say using my best ‘5 year old, oh the poor orphan caretaker’ voice. Expecting to play upon their sympathies, I was shocked to get one of Jeff’s “what a dumb***” looks from Carla. From Carla!!! So, around to the back I slithered, trying my best to remember some of Jeff ‘Swahili’. I opened the door expecting the worst….I wasn’t disappointed. There, living and breathing as one organism were 10 self trained mzungu fighters. They had heard I was coming along and so were primed to do their best…..and they are darned good at it too. “Would you kind children mind if I came in and joined you?” I asked in my most “I’m one of you voices”. “Please come in” they said in unison, all smiles. But, I knew they had a plan….bait him in and when the door is shut, we make our move…..and so it went. I will spare you the details, as you might be eating or have small children of your own around. There was an upside for me. Being on the floor of Toyota, under the 10, the shock of the potholes was distributed evenly over my body. As a side note, I have notice that the more I travel the ‘roads’ here the more my skin seems to darken, especially in the places I had made rapid contact with parts of Toyota.
Ok, so we get to Kitale and go to an actual 21st century shoe shop. They did have a guard outside for the riffraff, but I huddled inside the herd of kids and managed to get through. Inside, I overheard the clerks mumble something in Swahili under their breaths and began to fit shoes….it went something like this, “Kelvin, let’s measure your foot….ah good, you are a size 4, let’s try it on.” “Both of us?” Kelvin responds. “(more Swahili) No, just you….ah very good the other foot please. Why is it smaller…..oh,,,your other foot Kelvin, not yours Veronica.” And so it went. Later, after going through 6 or 7 clerks, Jeff laid down about $130.00 US (try that in the US for 10 pr nice leather shoes and 20 pr socks), and we filed out to the cheers of the clerks. Once, outside the guard noticed me and yelled, “Hey, how did you get in there?” “It’s OK” Jeff said, “he is the kid’s pet”. “They could do better” says the guard. And so goes the respect that I garner here. After going to the Kenyan Ferrier, we headed to another coffee shop so as not to ruin the relationship with English Lady, and had a ‘lunch’. Seeing that the kids were winding, down, Jeff grinned and said, “we need to go over to English Lady’s and get some ice cream…Babu will get away too lightly on the way home.”….Always thinking of my welfare! Once inside E L’s the kids began adding flavoring to their clothes while I talked to another mzungu. He turned out to know some things that I did not, like how to raise fish for food in this country. As he explained how to use tanks or ponds to raise the fish, I said it sounded like a considerable capital investment and by the way, would you be talking of edible fish?. “Yes” he says, “but what else can we do?” I said, “Look, most of the groundwork for ponds is already done. Have you considered waiting for the rainy season and using the potholes?” Looking at Jeff, who shrugged, he quietly excused himself, whispering something in Swahili. When I see him again, I have some more good ideas for his project.
Jump to arriving at the home. Though I was tired, bruised and pretty much done with ‘doing kids’, I had promised to help some of them do a wood project. So we went to the new saw and they watched as I cut out some parts for ‘airplanes’. I don’t know if they were really interested, or if they thought I’d sneak off…..which I would have, of course. After helping them put together the planes, they seemed content to wonder off……that is until they saw me carrying a couple of hand tools towards the big building. Me, “GO AWAY!!” Them, “We are going away with you.” Now I know why the CIA carries cyanide capsules. With 11 of us standing in one doorway, I managed to replace a lockset with a new one that didn’t work. But on the bright side, I was an experienced Kenyan lockset installer as I put the old one back in……the kids are beginning to capture Jeff’s ‘look’.
I didn’t think it was possible, but the day ended and I shucked the kids and retired to one of my secret places. You know….only I and 89 kids know where it is.
Friday, February 4, 2011
2011 day 5, installment 6
I think that I am getting over the time difference. I stayed up until almost 10 pm last night and got up at 6 today. For a guy my age, that seems to be good. The day starts a bit later than it did in October… well not the day, daylight, and it stays light for about an hour longer than it did then. I thought that the equator had moved, but Carla said that they went on daylight savings time at the end of Oct. Daylight savings,,like they have a bank somewhere that saves daylight…if that’s true, I’ll be willing to wager that Alaska would like to make some withdrawals about now.
Last night it rained most of the night….like it’s still the dry season….yada yada yada. I’m convinced that there is no dry season…just a ’not so wet’ season and a wet season. I will admit that they have put the life boats and floatation devises away for now. The ground absorbs the water now and there is little mud after the rain stops.
It is a good thing for me that Friday is a school day and the kids are in school for most of the day, so I am able to come out of hiding and work on some projects. I have found it is easier to work without additional body parts hanging on me. Today I finished nailing down some metal roofing over my work area…did I tell you that when I was here before, it rained every day…so I couldn’t work in the afternoons. Evidently this did not go un-noticed by Jeff, as when he heard that I was coming back he quickly put up a roof over the area that the saw was in. He said he was just looking out for me….but casually mentioned that I would be able to work all day….I think he is beginning to like me, as I have not felt so cared for by him before. Not wanting to disappoint him, I worked all day and built some storage boxes. Meanwhile, two of the metal doors into the buildings had broken hinges and Jeff got out the welder to mend them. He said he knew what he was doing…I wonder tho, as he was taking out the paint spray to do the “welding.” The broken hinges do look nice now however.
The kids have been going through the chicken pox and there are some new cases. I couldn’t figure out how they knew when a kid gets pox….with us mzungu, we get red spots that stand out…not quite so noticeable on the black skin, but the affects are the same. I’m continually amazed at how on top of the kids J & C are….well not really on top,,,it’s really the other way around…them under a bunch of snot producers… but, you know.. aware of the kids needs. TB is back and there are some of the older kids that have active TB and are getting treatment. Haven’t seen much malaria or typhoid, but it’s always here. Knowing all what is lurking around, it makes it interesting to be hugged and slimed… there was a reason I didn’t do babies. Carla had one throw up all over her as we were talking… “want to hold her?” Carla quiries. “Oh, can I, please!” I reply, “I’ll be right back after I puke my guts out” I say heading for the door….what’s with these kids…no respect for MY feelings.
The older kids can watch a movie on Friday and Sat nights, and sat down to watch Sahara with them….well as it turned out, ‘under’ them. I did see some of the movie tho, as they would jocky for position of top mzungu sitter occasionally and open up a hole for a few moments. As the pile grew, I soon squirted out the bottom, as snot also has lubrication tendencies, and snuck out.
Tomorrow is Saturday for us, and will eventually be for you too. Jeff, Carla and I are taking some of the older kids to town and will stop off to see the architect for the new buildings and move the projects along a bit.
Last night it rained most of the night….like it’s still the dry season….yada yada yada. I’m convinced that there is no dry season…just a ’not so wet’ season and a wet season. I will admit that they have put the life boats and floatation devises away for now. The ground absorbs the water now and there is little mud after the rain stops.
It is a good thing for me that Friday is a school day and the kids are in school for most of the day, so I am able to come out of hiding and work on some projects. I have found it is easier to work without additional body parts hanging on me. Today I finished nailing down some metal roofing over my work area…did I tell you that when I was here before, it rained every day…so I couldn’t work in the afternoons. Evidently this did not go un-noticed by Jeff, as when he heard that I was coming back he quickly put up a roof over the area that the saw was in. He said he was just looking out for me….but casually mentioned that I would be able to work all day….I think he is beginning to like me, as I have not felt so cared for by him before. Not wanting to disappoint him, I worked all day and built some storage boxes. Meanwhile, two of the metal doors into the buildings had broken hinges and Jeff got out the welder to mend them. He said he knew what he was doing…I wonder tho, as he was taking out the paint spray to do the “welding.” The broken hinges do look nice now however.
The kids have been going through the chicken pox and there are some new cases. I couldn’t figure out how they knew when a kid gets pox….with us mzungu, we get red spots that stand out…not quite so noticeable on the black skin, but the affects are the same. I’m continually amazed at how on top of the kids J & C are….well not really on top,,,it’s really the other way around…them under a bunch of snot producers… but, you know.. aware of the kids needs. TB is back and there are some of the older kids that have active TB and are getting treatment. Haven’t seen much malaria or typhoid, but it’s always here. Knowing all what is lurking around, it makes it interesting to be hugged and slimed… there was a reason I didn’t do babies. Carla had one throw up all over her as we were talking… “want to hold her?” Carla quiries. “Oh, can I, please!” I reply, “I’ll be right back after I puke my guts out” I say heading for the door….what’s with these kids…no respect for MY feelings.
The older kids can watch a movie on Friday and Sat nights, and sat down to watch Sahara with them….well as it turned out, ‘under’ them. I did see some of the movie tho, as they would jocky for position of top mzungu sitter occasionally and open up a hole for a few moments. As the pile grew, I soon squirted out the bottom, as snot also has lubrication tendencies, and snuck out.
Tomorrow is Saturday for us, and will eventually be for you too. Jeff, Carla and I are taking some of the older kids to town and will stop off to see the architect for the new buildings and move the projects along a bit.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
2011 day 4 installment 5
2011 day 4, installment 5
Although a lot of you hoped that I might be too discouraged to keep blogging, I’m happy to say that it did get better with the 15 minutes of sleep I got after last writing…..so, you always have the option of not opening this report up……lot like a drug isn’t it….go ahead…you can stop anytime you want…at least that’s what you tell yourself….you need help!!
15 minutes of sleep? You ask. Simple answer, and as soon as I think of it I will tell you. That’s the problem with 15 minutes of sleep….thinking afterwards. So I lay down in a strange bed with netting over it…they told me it was for mosquitoes, but it looked more like salmon net….it might stop a B-52, but not anything much smaller. The city was quiet…to a deaf guy….but even then the vibrations would have challenged his ability to sleep. So this goes back to my ability to pick good lines to get into….evidently I can pick good places to stay, as well….Remember where this hotel was?? Right by the what?? The “big” what?? You can gouge an eye out, but it is almost impossible to make yourself deaf by tearing an ear off…but I was giving it serious consideration. Now, I’m laying there, trying to figure out where the H*** anybody would want to go on a bus at that time of night, while alternately praising Jesus and thanking Him for loving me……I take that verse about the mouth both praising and cursing pretty literally. If you don’t know about that, find a “honest” Christian and ask them about it. Jeeze, will I ever get to the point?? My brain tells me that it is dark and ‘you are tired’, go to sleep. But there is another thing at work….my body…it tells me it noon and I should get my lazy bone off the bed and have lunch….so, needless to say, neither won out. But I did tell my body that maybe a little nap would be good before lunch, and so dozed on and off until the jerk at the desk gave me my wake-up call at about my bedtime. He said it was 5:45 am. I asked if someone could come and get my gills out of the net. But I managed to get dressed all by myself since Sandy had gotten me Velcro shoes….didn’t even think about Victor.
Quick breakfast,,,,, the guy who was supposed to pick me up the night before was actually ready, and still had his sign that said “Marble Arch Hotel …TERRY KISER” He was taking no chances. I think I got him back though as after picking up my baggage (190 kg) on the way to the airport he made a phone call to the hospital to see if he could get in for a hernia operation. Got there, unloaded my baggage, prayed for healing for him and went through Security with my stuff. Made it through with just a minimal fondling …..she didn’t seem to like it and said that her job not mine….“what goes around, comes around” I said as she slapped my hands….are you believing any of this tripe???? It’s hard to know what’s true, isn’t it! I’m not even sure…. So I start to check my meager amount of baggage, and Baggage Check-in guy says “there’s a limit what this little plane can carry, you know!!” “Yes“, I respond, looking around my stuff, “but TIA” He knew right away that I meant This Is Africa, and that I intended to “help him out” alittle. So he weighed my stuff and whispered, “ I think we can help each other out.”………”I see that you only have 40 kgs and you are allowed 22 kgs for free….I have to charge you for 18 kgs…..if you know what I mean.” he said with his palm out. “So how much does 18 kgs cost?” I say carefully. “That would be $75.00 US, but I might be able to help you out, if you know what I mean.” “I look favorably on tips”. “How favorable would a $20.00 tip look?” I was starting to catch on. “I can discount $30.00 for being a Mzungu” he smiles, “but with a $30.00 tip it would cost you $14.00 to ship the items”. because then you qualify as a “Most Valuable Customer” he says looking at a chart that I couldn’t see. He really was starting to like me and I knew I had him right where I wanted him…..”Sign me up as a “Most Valuable Customer” “ I went in for the kill. “DONE” he says…”by the way, let’s let it be our little surprise for the pilot.” I left feeling so relieved, as I thought I’d have to bribe the guy….turns out I am a “Most Valuable Customer”
A couple of hours later, after a short delay, I headed to the plane. “what was the delay” I queried. “after loading the baggage, we noticed that the tires seemed low on air, so we had to fill them” The Stewa….Flight Attendant smiled. The pilot told me later that because TIA he appreciated having an extra long runway.
Landing at Kitale, I was thankful that the runway was not paved by the road paving crew, as it was almost flat and smooth…..not one dead animal in a pothole or anything. Jeff and Carla were waiting with my old friend Toyota. All three were glad to see me until the baggage was pushed off the plane by a bulldozer. I’ll make it up to Toyota somehow….maybe keeping Jeff from looking under the hood or something. We stopped in at English Lady.. She seem to remember me and said something under her breath...sounded Swahili with an English accent. I’ll bet Jeff has been tutoring her on the language.
Then we continued on to the Home. Since it really has become the dry season, and the potholes were empty of water, I kept a sharp lookout for wheel weights, as you know there is a strong market here. Can you believe it, we followed a truck that said on the back; “If you see me driving unsafely or speeding please call #######” Ha, I laughed, definitely an imported truck….either that or the ###### has been disconnected as a joke.
At the home, much to my amazement, the 82 kids were still there, waiting to ‘get’ me. Not only that, but since they heard I was coming back, they went out and found 7 more of the little snot lockers. Cripes they’re fast….I figured that my only chance was to make for Maytag and Whirlpool for a quick rinse. They just shook their heads and said, “at least the kids look clean for now”. This is quite a place….I mean it. I’m afraid that I might be able to ‘do babies’. The older kids immediately attached themselves to me…which, as it turns out, snot is kind of an adhesive….maybe you could use that idea as a spring board to better uses for snot. It was worth the hassle to get here.
Today, I worked on getting a direction and even got the table saw out and built a small box. Jeff is already eyeballing it for vacation home. I have a phone here and am able to contact the power company when the power tank is empty…..I think it’s using a lot of minutes of my plan. J & C are treating much better than I deserve….pray for them. If you have an opening in your prayer life, put this place in there…with 89 kids and a bunch of employees..there’s a need.
If you talk to Sandy, tell that I appreciate her sending 50 pr of underwear for ME, as Whirlpool and Maytag don’t do underwear…..
By the way if you don't 'get' this it's because no-one does...that and you need to go back the October posts...
Although a lot of you hoped that I might be too discouraged to keep blogging, I’m happy to say that it did get better with the 15 minutes of sleep I got after last writing…..so, you always have the option of not opening this report up……lot like a drug isn’t it….go ahead…you can stop anytime you want…at least that’s what you tell yourself….you need help!!
15 minutes of sleep? You ask. Simple answer, and as soon as I think of it I will tell you. That’s the problem with 15 minutes of sleep….thinking afterwards. So I lay down in a strange bed with netting over it…they told me it was for mosquitoes, but it looked more like salmon net….it might stop a B-52, but not anything much smaller. The city was quiet…to a deaf guy….but even then the vibrations would have challenged his ability to sleep. So this goes back to my ability to pick good lines to get into….evidently I can pick good places to stay, as well….Remember where this hotel was?? Right by the what?? The “big” what?? You can gouge an eye out, but it is almost impossible to make yourself deaf by tearing an ear off…but I was giving it serious consideration. Now, I’m laying there, trying to figure out where the H*** anybody would want to go on a bus at that time of night, while alternately praising Jesus and thanking Him for loving me……I take that verse about the mouth both praising and cursing pretty literally. If you don’t know about that, find a “honest” Christian and ask them about it. Jeeze, will I ever get to the point?? My brain tells me that it is dark and ‘you are tired’, go to sleep. But there is another thing at work….my body…it tells me it noon and I should get my lazy bone off the bed and have lunch….so, needless to say, neither won out. But I did tell my body that maybe a little nap would be good before lunch, and so dozed on and off until the jerk at the desk gave me my wake-up call at about my bedtime. He said it was 5:45 am. I asked if someone could come and get my gills out of the net. But I managed to get dressed all by myself since Sandy had gotten me Velcro shoes….didn’t even think about Victor.
Quick breakfast,,,,, the guy who was supposed to pick me up the night before was actually ready, and still had his sign that said “Marble Arch Hotel …TERRY KISER” He was taking no chances. I think I got him back though as after picking up my baggage (190 kg) on the way to the airport he made a phone call to the hospital to see if he could get in for a hernia operation. Got there, unloaded my baggage, prayed for healing for him and went through Security with my stuff. Made it through with just a minimal fondling …..she didn’t seem to like it and said that her job not mine….“what goes around, comes around” I said as she slapped my hands….are you believing any of this tripe???? It’s hard to know what’s true, isn’t it! I’m not even sure…. So I start to check my meager amount of baggage, and Baggage Check-in guy says “there’s a limit what this little plane can carry, you know!!” “Yes“, I respond, looking around my stuff, “but TIA” He knew right away that I meant This Is Africa, and that I intended to “help him out” alittle. So he weighed my stuff and whispered, “ I think we can help each other out.”………”I see that you only have 40 kgs and you are allowed 22 kgs for free….I have to charge you for 18 kgs…..if you know what I mean.” he said with his palm out. “So how much does 18 kgs cost?” I say carefully. “That would be $75.00 US, but I might be able to help you out, if you know what I mean.” “I look favorably on tips”. “How favorable would a $20.00 tip look?” I was starting to catch on. “I can discount $30.00 for being a Mzungu” he smiles, “but with a $30.00 tip it would cost you $14.00 to ship the items”. because then you qualify as a “Most Valuable Customer” he says looking at a chart that I couldn’t see. He really was starting to like me and I knew I had him right where I wanted him…..”Sign me up as a “Most Valuable Customer” “ I went in for the kill. “DONE” he says…”by the way, let’s let it be our little surprise for the pilot.” I left feeling so relieved, as I thought I’d have to bribe the guy….turns out I am a “Most Valuable Customer”
A couple of hours later, after a short delay, I headed to the plane. “what was the delay” I queried. “after loading the baggage, we noticed that the tires seemed low on air, so we had to fill them” The Stewa….Flight Attendant smiled. The pilot told me later that because TIA he appreciated having an extra long runway.
Landing at Kitale, I was thankful that the runway was not paved by the road paving crew, as it was almost flat and smooth…..not one dead animal in a pothole or anything. Jeff and Carla were waiting with my old friend Toyota. All three were glad to see me until the baggage was pushed off the plane by a bulldozer. I’ll make it up to Toyota somehow….maybe keeping Jeff from looking under the hood or something. We stopped in at English Lady.. She seem to remember me and said something under her breath...sounded Swahili with an English accent. I’ll bet Jeff has been tutoring her on the language.
Then we continued on to the Home. Since it really has become the dry season, and the potholes were empty of water, I kept a sharp lookout for wheel weights, as you know there is a strong market here. Can you believe it, we followed a truck that said on the back; “If you see me driving unsafely or speeding please call #######” Ha, I laughed, definitely an imported truck….either that or the ###### has been disconnected as a joke.
At the home, much to my amazement, the 82 kids were still there, waiting to ‘get’ me. Not only that, but since they heard I was coming back, they went out and found 7 more of the little snot lockers. Cripes they’re fast….I figured that my only chance was to make for Maytag and Whirlpool for a quick rinse. They just shook their heads and said, “at least the kids look clean for now”. This is quite a place….I mean it. I’m afraid that I might be able to ‘do babies’. The older kids immediately attached themselves to me…which, as it turns out, snot is kind of an adhesive….maybe you could use that idea as a spring board to better uses for snot. It was worth the hassle to get here.
Today, I worked on getting a direction and even got the table saw out and built a small box. Jeff is already eyeballing it for vacation home. I have a phone here and am able to contact the power company when the power tank is empty…..I think it’s using a lot of minutes of my plan. J & C are treating much better than I deserve….pray for them. If you have an opening in your prayer life, put this place in there…with 89 kids and a bunch of employees..there’s a need.
If you talk to Sandy, tell that I appreciate her sending 50 pr of underwear for ME, as Whirlpool and Maytag don’t do underwear…..
By the way if you don't 'get' this it's because no-one does...that and you need to go back the October posts...
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
2011 day 2 installment 4
2011 day 2, installment 4
So, off the plane and running with the herd to get to the Visa issuing desk. True to my nature, I chose the one line of the six that refused to advance. I’m standing there trying to figure out whether I should get my sleeping bag out, and wishing that I had taken some Swahili lessons from Jeff…..(see an earlier blog) I was just about to get my razor out for the second time when I saw that the problem was 2 muslim women dressed in their conventional garb….either that or there were 2 small tents holding up the line. Maybe it was two muslim women camping. Needless to say, I was about the 4th to last person to get my visa…but then there were only about 350 people ahead of me. Down to the baggage claim….turns out that the visa people are faster than the baggage unloaders. After shaving again, my 2 tubs and the saw came out. The saw had traveled well and actually looked in better shape than I did…but then it didn’t sit in a 10”x10”x6” space for 22 hrs….I knew I should have taken the check thru option. The tubs…not so good. Oh they looked fine on top, but when I picked the first one up I was amazed at how a few restful hrs in the air strengthens a man…even me. The bottom wanted to stay on the carousel. Somehow, the official baggage damaging crew had made their way to my stuff and had done a bang up job…and I do mean bang up. Both tubs were just hanging on for dear life. So with alittle made up Swahili, I felt better and filed a claim. The official shrink wrap crew wrapped the tubs and I think everything is there….we’ll see. Can you imagine my excitement when I spotted the Customs guys. They, like all customs guys take their training in Afghanistan under Bin Laden’s bunch. Using my best “orphan caretaker” look, I crept up to the counter and sighed a big sigh….like ‘oh the poor kids’ type sigh. He didn’t even flinch….”Trying the ol’ orphan caretaker ploy, huh”. he says. “Worth a try” I said. “Anything to declare?” he sneers. Laying under a pile of broken tubs and one factory boxed table saw, I offered, “nothing of value.” Almost had him fooled too, but evidently his eyesight was pretty good. Looking at the brand new expensive looking saw box, he said “looks pretty well used….what do you suppose the new value would be?” Running the options thru my meager brain I rejected the $17.50 figure and told him “more than I want to tell you”. “Looks pretty well used” he winks to me, “I think it’s depreciated to about $200.00 US, what was in the tubs”? “Ah, I forget” says I, knowing that God is a forgiving God. “OK, then” says Mohammed Bin Laden Jr, “I’ll have to charge you 7000”. “Bit extreme” I whine. “Schillings, there, Mzungu” he says with one of Jeff’s ‘what a dumb***’ looks. “Oh” I mumble, handing him $90.00 as I bolted for the door….well not exactly bolted, but I didn’t want him to change his mind, as I thought I was facing a $500.00 duty. He even helped me to the door…probably happy to see me go...doesn’t speak very well of the training camps in Afghanistan, does it…..he won’t last long as Customs guy…
I had arranged for this small local hotel to pick me up and then bring me back in the morning. the guy didn’t show….and I don’t have a phone……good thing I felt right in my element…no internal stress or anything like that….what to do, what to do…..first thought, where’s Victor, or my mommy? Shortening this to just an epic novel, I found a cab and said “would you take me and my 90 kgs (190lbs) of stuff to Marble Arch Hotel?” “Yes, get in on top of your stuff and we will go…..do you know where it is?” “Aren’t you a cab driver in this city?” I say hopefully. “Yes, the very best…..do you know where it is, I will take you there.” I’m thinking, it’s 10:00 at night in a strange country, in a strange city, with a strange cabbie, I’ve been up and traveling for over 30 hrs, I, feel like Forrest Gump, “I’m tired, I think I’ll go home now.” Fighting back the urge to try to sneak back on the plane, I remembered that the hotel is by the bus depot…the big depot….”ever heard of it?” I asked….”Yes sir, I will take you to the bus depot.” “Will the bus take me to Anacortes?” I query. “Do you know where Anacortes is” Dufus Cabbie asks, “I will take you there” he finishes with exuberance. All I could think was ’where is Victor?’
Got to the hotel…my reservation was still good PTL. I went up to my room pretty well discouraged. I hit that well known wall of “What am I doing here….I want to go home”…… I know what I’m doing here, God asked me to come…I know that…He has something in mind….it will be better tomorrow.
So, off the plane and running with the herd to get to the Visa issuing desk. True to my nature, I chose the one line of the six that refused to advance. I’m standing there trying to figure out whether I should get my sleeping bag out, and wishing that I had taken some Swahili lessons from Jeff…..(see an earlier blog) I was just about to get my razor out for the second time when I saw that the problem was 2 muslim women dressed in their conventional garb….either that or there were 2 small tents holding up the line. Maybe it was two muslim women camping. Needless to say, I was about the 4th to last person to get my visa…but then there were only about 350 people ahead of me. Down to the baggage claim….turns out that the visa people are faster than the baggage unloaders. After shaving again, my 2 tubs and the saw came out. The saw had traveled well and actually looked in better shape than I did…but then it didn’t sit in a 10”x10”x6” space for 22 hrs….I knew I should have taken the check thru option. The tubs…not so good. Oh they looked fine on top, but when I picked the first one up I was amazed at how a few restful hrs in the air strengthens a man…even me. The bottom wanted to stay on the carousel. Somehow, the official baggage damaging crew had made their way to my stuff and had done a bang up job…and I do mean bang up. Both tubs were just hanging on for dear life. So with alittle made up Swahili, I felt better and filed a claim. The official shrink wrap crew wrapped the tubs and I think everything is there….we’ll see. Can you imagine my excitement when I spotted the Customs guys. They, like all customs guys take their training in Afghanistan under Bin Laden’s bunch. Using my best “orphan caretaker” look, I crept up to the counter and sighed a big sigh….like ‘oh the poor kids’ type sigh. He didn’t even flinch….”Trying the ol’ orphan caretaker ploy, huh”. he says. “Worth a try” I said. “Anything to declare?” he sneers. Laying under a pile of broken tubs and one factory boxed table saw, I offered, “nothing of value.” Almost had him fooled too, but evidently his eyesight was pretty good. Looking at the brand new expensive looking saw box, he said “looks pretty well used….what do you suppose the new value would be?” Running the options thru my meager brain I rejected the $17.50 figure and told him “more than I want to tell you”. “Looks pretty well used” he winks to me, “I think it’s depreciated to about $200.00 US, what was in the tubs”? “Ah, I forget” says I, knowing that God is a forgiving God. “OK, then” says Mohammed Bin Laden Jr, “I’ll have to charge you 7000”. “Bit extreme” I whine. “Schillings, there, Mzungu” he says with one of Jeff’s ‘what a dumb***’ looks. “Oh” I mumble, handing him $90.00 as I bolted for the door….well not exactly bolted, but I didn’t want him to change his mind, as I thought I was facing a $500.00 duty. He even helped me to the door…probably happy to see me go...doesn’t speak very well of the training camps in Afghanistan, does it…..he won’t last long as Customs guy…
I had arranged for this small local hotel to pick me up and then bring me back in the morning. the guy didn’t show….and I don’t have a phone……good thing I felt right in my element…no internal stress or anything like that….what to do, what to do…..first thought, where’s Victor, or my mommy? Shortening this to just an epic novel, I found a cab and said “would you take me and my 90 kgs (190lbs) of stuff to Marble Arch Hotel?” “Yes, get in on top of your stuff and we will go…..do you know where it is?” “Aren’t you a cab driver in this city?” I say hopefully. “Yes, the very best…..do you know where it is, I will take you there.” I’m thinking, it’s 10:00 at night in a strange country, in a strange city, with a strange cabbie, I’ve been up and traveling for over 30 hrs, I, feel like Forrest Gump, “I’m tired, I think I’ll go home now.” Fighting back the urge to try to sneak back on the plane, I remembered that the hotel is by the bus depot…the big depot….”ever heard of it?” I asked….”Yes sir, I will take you to the bus depot.” “Will the bus take me to Anacortes?” I query. “Do you know where Anacortes is” Dufus Cabbie asks, “I will take you there” he finishes with exuberance. All I could think was ’where is Victor?’
Got to the hotel…my reservation was still good PTL. I went up to my room pretty well discouraged. I hit that well known wall of “What am I doing here….I want to go home”…… I know what I’m doing here, God asked me to come…I know that…He has something in mind….it will be better tomorrow.
2011 day 2, installment 3
Somewhere over Europe…climbing to 35000 feet. I think it is about noon in Amsterdam and 2:00 pm in Nairobi and 3:00 am at home….maybe.
So, I am off again….you might say I am off all the time….and you’d be right, but this time I am off the ground. I am looking forward to what the Dutch will feed me. I’m sure it will be another adventure.
So, if it is 3 am at home, I should be sleeping..I want to be sleeping.... Why aren’t I sleeping?? One of the hard things about going half way around the world is that the sleep time is almost reversed…I thought about just staying on Washington time, as it could have some advantages….Jeff rarely drives at night so my kidneys would benefit…the kids sleep at night, so I’d have a good excuse to not do babies, and the cooks sleep at night so it might minimize the gastric impact….maybe I’ll think about it some more…hmmm
We have a Dutch family on board that is going to Kenya to see the wild animals…a safari. I offered to let them come to the Home and observe the most dangerous critters on earth…They just acted like they couldn’t speak English. The nerve of some people. We are in a 747-400 and have some empty seats so I have moved away from those people until they get some manners and respect us Americans….maybe I should invite them to church…..they need it!!! In the mean time I will sit staring at my computer…or cleaning my nails or fidgeting. Other than the people, this has been a very good trip….a lot of them aren’t like ME.
1 ½ hrs later…the saga continues. As I suspected, the Dutch are not like us either….they may look like us, but they are not. Take the food for instance. I had my choice between pasta and chicken. Now those of you that really know me, even if you won’t admit it, know that I don’t like any food that will stick to the wall when cooked…therefore, chicken for me. The rice was ok, unless you like rice. In that case you would have been disappointed. The chicken, much to my surprise had lots of flavor. Unfortunately, it tasted a lot like the stuff I clean my carpets with smells. Then there was a fluffy light custard thing that looked great…..tasted a lot like Mr Clean smells. All in all, the Dutch are on to something….food that you can clean with….sure cuts down on the need for storage room. However, if this is a bit of how the Dutch eat, and I lived there, I’d be tempted to go out to the dike and have that kid take his finger out and just end it all.
About 4 hrs to go. I’ve filled out all the immigration/customs and visa forms all by my self…and I didn’t use a crayon for a change….Sandy will be so proud! Might be time to stop displaying my artwork on the refrigerator. So, if they are filled out correctly, I may actually get to stay in Kenya tonight…which will be your yesterday…you should have it by now…..otherwise, look for me in the news. All that printing has made me tired.
So, I am off again….you might say I am off all the time….and you’d be right, but this time I am off the ground. I am looking forward to what the Dutch will feed me. I’m sure it will be another adventure.
So, if it is 3 am at home, I should be sleeping..I want to be sleeping.... Why aren’t I sleeping?? One of the hard things about going half way around the world is that the sleep time is almost reversed…I thought about just staying on Washington time, as it could have some advantages….Jeff rarely drives at night so my kidneys would benefit…the kids sleep at night, so I’d have a good excuse to not do babies, and the cooks sleep at night so it might minimize the gastric impact….maybe I’ll think about it some more…hmmm
We have a Dutch family on board that is going to Kenya to see the wild animals…a safari. I offered to let them come to the Home and observe the most dangerous critters on earth…They just acted like they couldn’t speak English. The nerve of some people. We are in a 747-400 and have some empty seats so I have moved away from those people until they get some manners and respect us Americans….maybe I should invite them to church…..they need it!!! In the mean time I will sit staring at my computer…or cleaning my nails or fidgeting. Other than the people, this has been a very good trip….a lot of them aren’t like ME.
1 ½ hrs later…the saga continues. As I suspected, the Dutch are not like us either….they may look like us, but they are not. Take the food for instance. I had my choice between pasta and chicken. Now those of you that really know me, even if you won’t admit it, know that I don’t like any food that will stick to the wall when cooked…therefore, chicken for me. The rice was ok, unless you like rice. In that case you would have been disappointed. The chicken, much to my surprise had lots of flavor. Unfortunately, it tasted a lot like the stuff I clean my carpets with smells. Then there was a fluffy light custard thing that looked great…..tasted a lot like Mr Clean smells. All in all, the Dutch are on to something….food that you can clean with….sure cuts down on the need for storage room. However, if this is a bit of how the Dutch eat, and I lived there, I’d be tempted to go out to the dike and have that kid take his finger out and just end it all.
About 4 hrs to go. I’ve filled out all the immigration/customs and visa forms all by my self…and I didn’t use a crayon for a change….Sandy will be so proud! Might be time to stop displaying my artwork on the refrigerator. So, if they are filled out correctly, I may actually get to stay in Kenya tonight…which will be your yesterday…you should have it by now…..otherwise, look for me in the news. All that printing has made me tired.
2011 day 1 installment 2
39,000 ft somewhere over Canada…..some time around 3:00 pm your time, which is ….who the heck knows here….
There I was, in the Marine Corps Recruiting center. It was Feb 1966. The Corporal at the desk hollers “hey Sarge, this guy is drunk…what do I do with him?” “Sign him up before he sobers up” he says. My lucky day, I thinks to myself….that was before boot camp! (true story, up to this point) I think the rest might be too. So off to boot camp and the wonderful nice men that took care of us. So what has this got to do with Safarislim? You ask. Nothing, I just like telling that story……just kidding, I’m already running out of material and so I needed some filler……so after boot camp when they couldn’t feed us freshly ruined food, they would give us C rats. Although it had nothing to do with rats, we weren’t always so sure. Anyway, our C rats (C rations…the Marine Corps answer to fast food) were all dated 1943, 1944, and 1945. Now it was 20 years later and we were still ‘eating’ those things….I’m not sure if they just made that many, or that the Marines in combat during WWII just refused to be abused any more. Went something like this: “Hey Jarhead, come get your rats” “*x%*%## , not going to happen! Do what you want, but all you’re getting from me is Name Rank and Serial Number”. So anyway, I never really missed C rats during the intervening years. So, fast forward to Jan 31, 2011. Now it’s 45 years since my mista….ah enlistment, and 65 years since the last C rats were concocted. Imagine my surprise when the stewardess, yes I said stewardess offered me some in-flight ‘dinner’. Holy cow, talk about deja vue all over again. As I looked at the ‘meal’ I said to myself “I wish I had a copy of my DD214”……(proof of my insanity and also my separation papers from the Corps.) So, after a consult with my God, I came to the conclusion that He was involve with this and is getting me ready for more of the yummy “food” in Kenya. Needless to say, I dug in with gusto…much to the surprise of the stewardess….I think if I had asked for seconds, she would have brought the Air Marshall back to have a talk with me…..come to think of it she had a 5 o’clock shadow…..maybe she is the AM.
There I was, in the Marine Corps Recruiting center. It was Feb 1966. The Corporal at the desk hollers “hey Sarge, this guy is drunk…what do I do with him?” “Sign him up before he sobers up” he says. My lucky day, I thinks to myself….that was before boot camp! (true story, up to this point) I think the rest might be too. So off to boot camp and the wonderful nice men that took care of us. So what has this got to do with Safarislim? You ask. Nothing, I just like telling that story……just kidding, I’m already running out of material and so I needed some filler……so after boot camp when they couldn’t feed us freshly ruined food, they would give us C rats. Although it had nothing to do with rats, we weren’t always so sure. Anyway, our C rats (C rations…the Marine Corps answer to fast food) were all dated 1943, 1944, and 1945. Now it was 20 years later and we were still ‘eating’ those things….I’m not sure if they just made that many, or that the Marines in combat during WWII just refused to be abused any more. Went something like this: “Hey Jarhead, come get your rats” “*x%*%## , not going to happen! Do what you want, but all you’re getting from me is Name Rank and Serial Number”. So anyway, I never really missed C rats during the intervening years. So, fast forward to Jan 31, 2011. Now it’s 45 years since my mista….ah enlistment, and 65 years since the last C rats were concocted. Imagine my surprise when the stewardess, yes I said stewardess offered me some in-flight ‘dinner’. Holy cow, talk about deja vue all over again. As I looked at the ‘meal’ I said to myself “I wish I had a copy of my DD214”……(proof of my insanity and also my separation papers from the Corps.) So, after a consult with my God, I came to the conclusion that He was involve with this and is getting me ready for more of the yummy “food” in Kenya. Needless to say, I dug in with gusto…much to the surprise of the stewardess….I think if I had asked for seconds, she would have brought the Air Marshall back to have a talk with me…..come to think of it she had a 5 o’clock shadow…..maybe she is the AM.
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