Mud and tears

Oct 24, 2011
Now which one of you would think to tell me to take warm clothes to the equator….in Africa. I mean I never saw Tarzan wearing long underwear, just that diaper thingy. So, last evening: “Hey Jeff, I can’t find the heater in our room.” I say, while actually looking for a pile of kids to get under. Jeff, giving me one of his now world famous ‘what a dumb a**’ looks, says “We’re in the tropics, for crying out loud” but even I noticed that he was saying it from under his blanket. Who would have thought that it could get clear down to 70 deg F here. You laugh, but go sit under a sun lamp for 6 hrs and then see what 70 does to you. Before we came, the dry season began, but now that we are here, the rain doesn’t seem so dry to me, then that’s just me. True to form, when the Kisers are in Africa, the ‘blessings’ come. Now in Washington State we don’t necessarily call rain ‘blessings’, but here they do. It hasn’t rained hard, but it has rained every day…..good for the beans, and car body shops….more on that later.
Sandy has a pretty good hiding place. She goes into room 3 and gets behind a humongous pile of kids clothes an uses the sewing machine to repatriate different parts of dismembered clothes. Meanwhile the kids just blow by the door, never suspecting that hugs are just feet away. The 2^nd law of thermodynamics is actually provable here. (Jeff….that is the axiom….I mean ‘thing that says stuff starts good and goes to h--- I mean to broken, ripped, smashed torn….bad.) Please hang with me as sometimes I have to tutor Jeff some. As an aside, I am really proud of Jeff, as he is using larger words more and more….he has learned to write in all capital letters.
Earlier in the day yesterday, I drove Joseph and Lil’ Twerp (Shylo) into Sabanga, the little village near here, to get maize and potatoes. The ‘roads’ were dry….unlike later….more on that coming up. So we get to the metropolis and find a door in a brick building that had some kernels of maize sprinkled around. So Joseph says to the lady standing in the door, “lots of words and noises that can’t be understood by mzungu”. She replied, “more noises and strange words”. This went on of about 5 minutes. At one point I broke in and asked J what the deal was. “Not made yet” he says…..we are negotiating. She wants 2650 Ksh and we will pay 2600Ksh. (50 cents diff). It wasn’t the 50 cents, it was who would win the match. Although she seem, to me, to be the better bargainer, J managed to pull it out and he chalked up another victory in the battle of the market place. A repeat performance at another place for the potatoes, and J was absolutely gleeful. “Did you see that” he says. “they didn’t have a chance!” Not exactly the world series of negotiation, I thought….but said, “it is an honor to be in your presence, oh Market Master.” So, back to home, 150 kg’s heavier.
So a couple of days ago, Jeff Lil’ Twerp and I went to town, and were picking our way thru the lead mines, when LT says to Jeff, “How do they fix these roads?” Jeff, giving me one of his looks, rolling his eyes says to LT. “I don’t know, I’ve never seen it happen.” Which brings me to the sad tale that I am about to tell.
Every night , after dark, Jeff takes the two or three Aunties that get off shift home. Most of them live within 6 or 7 miles, down little dirt lanes about 10 ft wide, sometimes having flat surfaces for 8 or 10 inches at a time. Some of these lanes are shaped like a barrel…maybe 3 ft higher in the middle than at the sides, which are sort of a ditch affair, with vertical dirt walls. This brings us to Kiser driving skills….or lack of it. This dirt, when wet becomes very much like ice…or like a known substance here….snot. So, with Jeffs genteel coaxing, I was easing my friend Toyota along the ‘road’, and then it was over. With a subtle ‘bang’ Toyota had come to rest against the left side wall of the lane….which is hard mud as well, with brambles hanging over it. Being as I have never liked damaging things, especially expensive things, I pretty much ruined my day….and probably longer. But bless his heart, Jeff looked over at me smiling and said TIA. I think he is a better man than me….but don’t you dare tell him. Anyway, long story short….like that ever happens with me……between 4 wheel drive, patience, and the winch, Toyota proved her worth again. Jeff wouldn’t let me get out of the drivers seat, Aunties got home, as did we. The damage wasn’t too bad….partially caved in left side panel, but nothing broken except my ego….and heart….I love ’ol Toyota.
And so, another day in Africa, and God has proven once again that He is good. This is life.