Fish, Cows, and Volleyball

The third week in Mbakalo slowed down a bit more. On Sunday (6/14), Mo and I planned on continuing painting and writing reports, but The generator was locked in a room we didn’t have a key for, so I peppered (hit a volleyball back and forth) with Victor for the morning hours and for the afternoon (not feeling much like painting), took our time with lunch and sat around and talked (and waited for the key that never came). During our conversation, Mo and I learned from Victor that the stereotypes of Americans that the Kenyans have in the rural areas are that were are smart, curious, and are packing heat (or if not carrying a weapon, are well trained in self defense. We has a good laugh about this and for the rest of the week joked that Mo was pulling out his nine any time he reach for his camera). When we got back to Mama’s, I kicked around a “soccer ball” (really some type of material rolled and wrapped with rope) and played with some of the local kids (which consisted of them simply laughing and being shy or [at one point] someone shouting “Aja!” [sp?] and all of us jumping together. This lasted until I was tired [since they all jumped about two inches].)

The rest of the week (as far as work goes) consisted of finishing painting and (in one and a half rooms) applying a second coat of cream (with a black border so the water doesn’t show when mopping), writing updates and some reports, and helping Simon with a proposal. Mixed in between were several other activities. On Tuesday (6/16), Simon invited us for lunch at his home. Again, this entailed a feast be served (though this time it was all at once). We had busuma (Luhya for ugali), chapo, kuku (chicken), soup, Irish potatoes (as opposed to sweet potatoes), fish, sukume, avocado, and green grams (btw, if I forgot to mention it before, their accent is sometimes difficult to pick up so I had the name wrong previously. Also, discontent couples should be discordant couples). I think the only thing missing was rice. Similar to Kitale, the fish was served whole. (The reason that we even had fish was because when we first arrived, Mo mentioned that he really enjoyed the fish [fillets] in Nairobi and had it for all of his lunches. Simon then vowed to get fish for us when we visited his home. We forgot until now. [I will say that it was good preparation for Ugenya since they are near Lake Victoria, and fish is cheaper than meat.]) So Mo (still feeling unwell), managed to knock out the fish, while I was continuously fed as Esther joined us and kept piling sukume (so I could have a balanced meal) and chapo onto my plate (before I was done with what was there).

While Mo lay on the ground, Esther continued an ongoing joke and offered to wash Mo’s shoes since they were dirty. This at least garnered a chuckle from Mo and a quick dismissal that Esther was crazy (signs that he wasn’t too bad off). Previously, she told him he wasn’t allowed to have dirty pants because he was a visitor (and if he left with dirty pants, people would think poorly of Mbakalo), so he should bring them for her to wash. I managed to get out of this predicament later in the week by telling her that if I left with clean clothes and clean shoes, I would have nothing to show people back home that I actually did work. Before leaving, Esther’s last born (I don’t actually remember her name because she was referred to more as “my last born” than anything else.) and Simon’s daughter, Esther, finally had warmed up to us and wanted us to play, using me to throw them up into the air or as a human jungle gym (for three and thin, Esther’s last born was surprisingly strong, pulling herself up to wrap both arms and legs around one of my arms). Mo being sick (and naturally it being late in the afternoon [we didn’t start until after two], we called it a day after arriving back at the dispensary. Later that evening at dinner with Mama and Lusweti, Lusweti had a great time with our account of the feast. Mainly, he found the idea of us not being used to the fish looking back at us hilarious. (“You are eating, and the fish, it is there. And you are looking at it. And the fish, it is looking back at you. [At this point, he would lean forward and widen his eyes.] Then he would just laugh and laugh, repeating it multiple times throughout the meal.)

Wednesday afternoon (6/17), Victor had the brilliant (I mean this sincerely) idea to ask the Mbakalo Secondary School for a volleyball match with their boys. (We had been intending to play a game against the Polytechnic next door, but they were on break.) We arrived at the school and say the boys warming up in a circle, peppering. From a distance, they all looked tall and thin, not a good sign for our ragtag team (consisting of myself, Mo, Simon, Victor, Henry, and Ken [a guy who had been helping us paint]). We spent about forty or fifty minutes talking with the deputy headmaster and the headmaster, exchanging pleasantries and presenting jerseys (multiple times [since we met so many people]) for the school as a way of saying thank you. (I was actually feeling a little excitement [which meant sitting for so long was agitating] about playing [likely because it was the first sign of competition I had experienced in weeks]. Finally, we walked out to the court, and from up close, the boys still looked tall and thin. We changed into the jerseys we brought for ourselves and without warming up, started the match. The court took some getting used to because it was cinder, (I don’t know how they played with bare feet) and the usual approach led to slipping and sliding. The first game remained close throughout, but we managed to pull out a victory. I think the boys were surprised when I got several blocks and put a few spikes down throughout the game. The second game saw some substitutions from them (their captain stopped reffing and put on a jersey) and a growing crowd from the school (possibly a hundred or so people completely lining the court). Again the game was close, but we managed to pull out a victory. Their captain and I got the best of each other several times throughout. The third game was the same. At one point, I went up for a block and somehow did a 180 before landing. My momentum carried me to the other side of the court, and I got a good laugh from the crowd (and a surprised look from my team) as I set up to receive the serve with the other team. Having pulled out a surprise victory (for us, them, and the crowd) in only three games, we agreed to play one more before it got dark. Somehow, I ended up setting for this game. We lost this one, but it was still just as fun. After we were finished, we shook hands, said thank you, snapped a couple photos, and headed home under the setting sun.

As the earth breathed a heavy sigh of relief at having survived another night and the mist slowly rose to blanket the ground, Mttaki arrived in his car with Simon to come take Mo to the bus station early Thursday morning (6/18). Mo tossed his bags in the trunk, and I hopped in to enjoy the ride (despite it being so early). Not remembering how long it took to get from Webuye to Mama’s coming and adding the fact that we were leaving later than planned (though this was expected, but we were then further delayed so we could go to the dispensary to get Simon’s broken laptop so Mo could take it to Nairobi to get fixed), we weren’t sure how close we would cut it. Mttaki has a way of driving whereby he jiggles the wheel back and forth as the car passes over the inevitable bumps. I couldn’t really tell how much it helped. Despite the forty-five minute late departure, we arrived a half hour early. (I set this up for being more of an adventure, but it was too early to remember any of the details that were available to be enjoyed.) After leaving Mo at the station, we made a quick stop at a primary school to check on the status of the school’s contribution for the water project. From what I could gather, they had plenty of bricks lying around and a nice pile of dirt to be used. The rest of the day (and the next two [for the most part]) was spent helping Simon with the proposal.

Friday (6/19) was a fairly uneventful day. In the morning, though, I was showing off pictures from home and people could not believe I still had grandparents. Since I have a girlfriend, they also wanted to know when I was getting married (Mo had already set his date for seven years from now despite having no one. Therefore, I must be getting married soon. In fact, one evening I was talking on the phone to Steph, and Mama walked by and called out, “Talking to your fiancée?” Later that evening, she said that I should bring her [she may have used fiancée again] out to Mbakalo and that she was more than welcome.) It’s difficult trying to explain the concept of dating. Speaking of marriage, however, one of the conversations that day involved dowries and Kenyan marriage. Victor has offered more than three cows (to me?) for any of my cousins or friends that wish to be his wife. (I will try to find a picture of him and [if I go back] of his cows.) Later in the day, I had the opportunity to take tea (which also included groundnuts and bread and honey [from his beehives]) at Mttaki’s with Simon, Isaac, Denis, and Mttaki. The house was fairly nice (made of brick) and came with a garage. The inside was (like many other Kenyan houses it seems) full of couches, tables, and chairs, all with some type of small covering (either cloth or afghan). Conversation ranged from topic to topic, but the threatening rain shortened things a bit. On the drive back, curtains of rain fell in the distance leaving windows for the hills and sky between. (It’s also quite a sight when the lightning flashes all around you at night and fills the gaps between tree trunks with a flicker of yellow, accompanied by no other warning [thunder, wind, or rain] that a storm will be coming soon.)

The next morning (6/20), I stopped by Henry’s home (since it was on the way) to say a final farewell. We sat and chatted for about an hour, thanking each other for various things. I then went to the dispensary to help finish up the proposal with Simon. I was ready to head back to Mama’s for lunch, when Mttaki arrived with his car. They loaded up a woman (clearly in some amounts of pain) into the car to take her to a hospital in Misikhu (which is about three quarters of the way to Webuye) since they couldn’t handle her problem (I never really found out what it was. It may have been some complications with a child she was carrying) at the dispensary. Since Mttaki was supposed to be taking me into town to drop me in Webuye to meet Marla and Marion (coming from Nairobi), the decision was made to save gas and take me as well. We rushed to Mama’s, and fortunately, I only had some odds and ends left to pack. Mama was off in Naiteri hosting all the Quakers from around Kenya, so I hurriedly explained the situation to Eunice and apologized for not being able to take the lunch she had prepared. (I felt bad for delaying the woman even the five [or so] minutes it took to accomplish all of this.) Mttaki’s method of driving now seemed to reflect the sense of urgency that hung heavily throughout the ride, but we made it to the hospital and (I assume) got her into safe hands. Because of my quick departure, I was only able to say goodbye to Simon at the dispensary and Eugene, Ian, and Nick (who all looked forlorn as my bags were being packed).

In the next post, I will (hopefully) talk about meeting Dr. Ngome at his school and Ugenya. Currently, I have departed Kuria, was back in Nairobi for a few days, and am residing in Mituntu (in Meru and near Mt. Kenya) to continue Marla’s research. Things did not go as smoothly in Kuria as they did in Ugenya (for a variety of reasons). Hopefully, things will be better in Mituntu.

-Pat

P.S. Victor was joking. (I think)