I’m sure you’ll notice that this isn’t Paul writing today. I, Morgan, have finally decided to try and give you a little different perspective on our life in Kenya at the moment.
Where to start, though…?
One thing I will confirm: I’ve been trying to pet just about every animal we’ve come across. Some are more receptive than others, and I’ve quit trying to chase baby goats and chickens and such. I think the local children are the only ones quick enough to catch them. I can get my hands on most cows, and like daddy mentioned, we have a load of dogs here in Mbita to keep me company. There’s one male dog, who is Father, Grandfather and/or Uncle to all the others, and 3 girls, one of which is the mom of the other two (and daughter and wife to the male), whose puppies are cousins and half-brothers and sisters all at the same time. The mamas all love me and come running when they hear me, which I love, but I’m not sure how good it is for security purposes, since at least a couple of them are our guard dogs. But the male won’t have much to do with me, and is still ferocious, so I figure that’s enough. And oh, the puppies!! 5 born to one mom, and 7 to the other, which is now 3 and 6, unfortunately, but the surviving ones are all opening their eyes and starting to wiggle around. I’ve been more purposeful in visiting the dogs than anything else around here on a daily basis, I think. Hmm, look at that: a whole paragraph from me about the dogs… Big surprise, I guess.
One thing I see has not been mentioned much is our neighbor kids. It began with 3 or 4 girls the first day, who we let play with a ball, and the next morning we had a couple little boys out front declaring, “We would like to play with the green ball.” More proof word travels fast around here. So every afternoon (even before breakfast, some days) we have a gang of kids in the yard waiting for us. We have about 6 or 8 regulars each day, and inevitably one or two we’ve never seen before. Yesterday at one point, we had over a dozen kids running around. The number seems to grow every day. We have a couple rubber balls that have already been abused to the point that, even with duct tape patches, they don’t stay inflated for much more than half an hour. But luckily we brought a pump that seems to be as much fun as the balls themselves. We have a Frisbee and a Nerf football, Dominoes and colored pencils. I’ve spent a couple days with embroidery thread, teaching the kids to make friendship bracelets as well. A couple days ago the whiffle balls came out, and yesterday the boys were constructing hockey sticks out of the leftover wood from the tables and things Nick had made (which were made themselves from leftover wood from a torn-out ceiling in another building). I guess I should change my position here, and say that playing with these kids has made me feel more purposeful than anything else on the trip so far… aside from playing with the orphans at Sero, which was just as good. Many of the kids here have lost one or both parents as well, some are living with relatives, and I’m pretty sure 4 or so of the boys live together with a gal that rents a house here on the church property, who has no kids of her own. I don’t know how to say in a way that doesn’t sound arrogant, that it feels good just to enrich these kids’ lives a little. To show them some love. I know a flat rubber ball doesn’t sound like much, but I think the fact that they have somewhere to go to just be kids means a lot to them. One of the gals on our Polytechnic committee is a teacher at the Primary school across the fence (a school of 400+ kids, 8 grade levels, and 7 teachers), and she told us that many of her kids come to school without having had breakfast, and have probably had to fetch water already; then when they are sent home to have lunch, they may or may not get anything to eat, and are sent again to fetch water or to do some other chore, then sent back to school. I say this to illustrate how little children are allowed to just be children. We of course see kids playing around the streets with tires and strings tied to cars they’ve made from wire and cardboard and plastic lids, but it sounds like most of their time in between is spent doing more physical labor than most of us would care to do in a day. I shouldn’t generalize, but I don’t think I’m that far off. Anyway, by now we know most of the kids by name, and playing with them has occupied many times more time in our days than anything to do with the Polytechnic has. Can’t say I’m very disappointed about that, personally.
Alright… another topic, maybe…
How about everything gross we encounter on a daily basis? Sound interesting? Monica, you might want to skip this part...
My dad already mentioned the bugs in the tea. At the beginning of this trip, when I would discover a bug in what I was drinking, that would be the end of it, and I’d dump it out (or maybe pass it to Nick who cared less). At this point, if I have to scoop half a dozen gnats out of my tea, I do it, and look into my glass and think, “Well, I hope there’s not one that sank to the bottom that I’m going to swallow,” and finish my cup. And, ahh, our toilets. As Paul said, we have a 2-compartment outhouse. Though I think he referred to it as a bathroom… but I’ve yet to see any porcelain in there. It has tin walls that creak with the wind, and a cement floor with a square hole about the size of a 6x8 picture frame in the floor in which to do your business. So I want all of you to stand on your toilet seat and crouch over it the next time you need to use it, and let me know how it goes. AND remember that your hole is twice the size of the one we’re aiming for. I’ve seen the fore mentioned geckoes on the walls, but I prefer their company to that of the cockroaches and snake (only one so far) who also reside in our lovely commode. The bathing situation isn’t too bad at all, actually, though I wouldn’t turn down a hot shower. We get our water from the lovely Lake Victoria, hauled up by a guy with a donkey cart. Who I thank God for, because I have yet to learn to carry anything on my head, let alone a 5 gallon bucket of water. But at the end of a thoroughly dusty, hot day, the cool water is really nice. So I, personally, use about a pitcher of water (I try to scoop around the floating bugs), and get something a little better than a sponge bath out of it. I never thought I’d enjoy such a meager washing so much. Not to mention we seem to have been drinking the water from the lake, too. Boiled, of course, but that hasn’t prevented a few stomach aches. But we got some WaterGuard (basically sodium chloride), so hopefully that will be a little more hygienic. That wasn’t too gross… Maybe the cow and goat poop everywhere that is apparently no one’s job to clean up after. No scoop law here. And no litter law either. I’m actually surprised that there’s not more trash lying around, since, for example, if you give a kid a piece of candy, the wrapper’s on the ground before the sweet’s in the mouth. But I think a lot of the trash comes in handy for burning, so there you go. I’m kind of disappointing myself with the lack of “yuck” factor here… My dad has already mentioned my crusade against the ants. And I thought I had an ant problem in college. Ooohhh, no. This was an inch-wide stream of them flowing into our kitchen. And apparently Ziploc bags are no match for their tinyness. We had some cookies in a bag that they had invaded, and they were crawling in and out of the holes in the cookies. So I picked them out as best I could, found an airtight Ziplock for the ant-less cookies and some DOOM insecticide, and that’s the last I’ve seen of them. Knock on wood. Our bat friends were mentioned, too, I believe. It was startling to have them zipping around our heads at first, but at this point, I don’t think any of us so much as flinch when they come in to join us for evening tea. As much as we might like to think they zip back out another window, we know they’re living in our ceiling. I know my dad mentioned the hole through which they leave us gifts on the coffee table every morning. So we began moving the coffee table as a stroke of genius, and I even began laying down a bit of old paper for easy disposal. The last thing I can think of, which isn’t a daily occurance, thank goodness, was the smell coming from an old cement hole in the ground outside our house. Not a septic tank, so that didn’t explain it, but there was a heavy cement lid that was open just enough for a critter to crawl inside and get stuck. So Paul and some of the church men (Has anyone mentioned they refer to them as “the Christians”, as opposed to “the Congregation”? We think that’s pretty funny…) got a big metal rod to hoist it open, some poking sticks and a length of rope, and quite quickly were able to haul out a 4 foot mongoose that had apparently been chased into the hole by our guard dogs. See? I didn’t spoil them! I had heard the battle a couple of nights before, but I thought it was cats fighting or something. Quite a ruckus.
I guess that’s it for gross. I know there has to be more, but I’ll keep a list and get back to you.
I wish I had more to talk about. Maybe just a bit about daily life in Mbita? We’ve been here just over 2 weeks now, and as Paul mentioned, it’s been pretty slow going with the Polytechnic business. Actually, my dad just popped in and introduced me to one of the former teachers who stopped by to help us evaluate what we have – or should I say don’t have – as far as tools and equipment for the masonry department. Other than having some “professionals” stop by to help us evaluate, there hasn’t been a lot to do. We have about 6 buildings we’ve cleaned out, mostly with the help of those neighbor kids. And you should see them clean! Those girls can mop a cement floor, bent over at the waist, with an old t-shirt and some laundry detergent and make it shine like porcelain. There’s no way us mzungus could have done half the job without them. They were 100 times more helpful than the church youth group that was assigned to help us one afternoon. I think about 4 of the youth actually ended up helping, and that was the day the Leatherman disappeared. It was, however, miraculously found the other day by one of the men that had accompanied the youth that afternoon. And as far as Fr Charles and a few other Christians (ha ha) were concerned, he was probably the one whose sticky fingers had gotten at it in the first place. But no matter. We’re counting ourselves lucky that that’s been the only casualty so far anyway. The cleaning definitely made us feel productive for a few days, at least. I think my dad may have posted some Before and After pictures… but that only lasted so long. So for the past week, we’ve done the little organizing of the handful of tools we found, and that’s about it. But laying them out all together was actually kind of encouraging. Otherwise, our days consist of getting up around 7 or 9 (7 for the parents, 9 for Nick and I), and having breakfast. Then we have a few hours to play with the kids who have congregated in the yard, or maybe do some laundry in the lake. I go to the market most days with Elly at that time, too. Has anyone mentioned him? He’s one of Dr John’s boys (African boys who he’s sponsored through school that all refer to him as their father now. It’s really sweet.) who he sent with us to be our cook and personal assistant of sorts. He’s become part of the family, really. I think he’s about 21, and he enjoys Yahtzee and our iPods (even though he listens strictly to Michael & Janet Jackson, and maybe 2 other reggae albums we have). Anyway, after the morning activities, we have lunch, and after lunch is more playing with the kids (thank goodness for them, or I think we’d do a lot of staring at eachother), and pretending we have important things to do, like play with the puppies or go look at the lake or read. Dinner is after sundown, which gives us the opportunity to watch the incredible sunsets I know my dad has posted pictures of. After dinner it’s Yahtzee and tea time. This seems to have become mandatory since last week when we taught Elly to play. We even got the other cook, Eucabeth, and the student who’s staying here, Dennis, to play a few times. And after that is bed, because we’re all sooo tired from our long, hard day. Mealtimes seem to be the mile markers of our day. It seems like we kill time between meals a lot, just to see the day pass, even though I don’t think any of us are the least bit hungry when we sit down to eat most of the time. I can’t remember the last time I’ve eaten 3 meals a day consistently. I guess that’s about it for our day to day lives. There has obviously been some minor frustration with our lack of productive things to do. It’s nice to some extent, but I’m going to feel really useless if this turns into a six month vacation. We’ve talked to Fr Charles about finding needs within the community we could have for little daily projects, like mending clothes or minor household repairs we could help with. Even helping at that 400 student school I mentioned… anything, really, just to make us feel useful. He has a chicken project to set up come January, but that’s a month away. I guess if our biggest complaint is having little to do, I shouldn’t be complaining. But as you all know, that’s why we came in the first place; to “make a difference”. We’ve resigned ourselves, I think, to making less of a dramatic impact, but that’s why we’re just looking to do anything that could make a small difference, even if it’s only for one person.
So this is where I’ll stop. I’ve rambled a lot, and I apologize for my overuse of commas and parentheses… though it might be a bit better than my dad’s stream-of-consciousness ramblings. But I shouldn’t talk, since this is the first one I’ve written, and I thank him sincerely for being the one to keep you all updated. Now that I’ve found I obviously don’t have a shortage of babble myself, I’ll try and relieve him of the duty a little more often. Plus it looks like I’m doing something very official and constructive with my time when I sit in front of the computer for a couple hours.
Much love to everyone. I definitely get quite homesick for you all here and there, so keep sending us notes of little goings-on when you get the chance. Even if you think it’s not important, it’s really nice to hear about home. Sorry we don’t have to resources to write more one-on-one emails.
Love and Peace,
Morgan.