A Day Of Rest

Not a real good night for sleeping last night.  Somewhere in or near this hotel, there was some sort of party going on and the music played loudly until 2am.  For the last several nights I have left the door to the balcony open to cool the room and to get a little background noise.  A similar party was going on last night but I found the noise less bothersome then.  So I had to close the door to be able to get some sleep.  Unfortunately, at 3am, I was awakened to a howling that sounded like it was just outside my room. It sounded like a baby crying, but this baby sounded like it was being tortured.  The wails were bloodcurdling. I learned later that a feral cat will sometimes roam the halls of this hotel and it has been known to do this.  

This wailing reminded me of  a time when we were in Haiti about ten years ago.  Our apartment was right across the street from the hospital maternity ward, and all the windows were open because it was a warm night.  You can see what’s coming...  At 4am, a woman in the hospital gave birth.  Haitian women can sing like no one else. They can also scream like no one else.  Her screams echoed across the narrow valley and made for a sleepless night then also.

While I am relieved last night’s noises weren’t caused by a baby under duress, it did put me a little more behind in my sleep.

And, just as it was getting light, I could hear the tinkling of cow bells as someone drove their small herd through town.  This is a regular occurrence, with herds of animals often impeding traffic.  It would be like back home, in Grand Rapids, having to slow down or stop for a few sheep on 28th Street.

We went to church this morning at a small church near Alice’s place.  Again, an African church service is quite the experience for us more reserved Westerners.  Most of them tend towards the more charismatic end of the spectrum, so their praise is jubilant, long, and loud. This church doesn’t have electricity service, so a small generator behind the building powered a portable keyboard, two microphones, and a small sound board.  The sound system was not quite up to the work required of it, but no one seemed to care.

The first song lasted perhaps twenty minutes with lots of repetition and several of the women standing in front singing and swaying.  Then came the sermon.  Based on 1 Corinthians 15:57-58, the pastor talked about the victory we have in Christ.  Another guy stood up and translated for us mzungu.  When the sermon was done, they welcomed the visitors.  That would be us.  Having experienced this before, I knew what was coming.

We were asked to come up front and the translator guy was effusive in wishing us blessings and honoring us as visitors.  Then Alice came up and did more of the same.  Then the microphone was handed to each one of us and we were asked to say something.  A few decades ago, at a church in Nigeria, I was completely taken by surprise at being asked to speak and managed to stammer a few words.  Here I was expecting it and I think I said a few words that actually made sense.

I learned after the service that, had they known ahead of time that we were going to be attending their church, one or all of us would have been asked to preach. 😲

You can go to a church in the States and remain anonymous.  That’s not possible here.  First of all, as mzungu, we stick out and second, any visitors immediately get the seat of honor in the front and are welcomed profusely.

The service continued with several age groups gathering in the front and singing and dancing to music.  First the children, then the teenagers, then the adults.  The dancing resembled line dancing at times with each group dancing in a circle or some other pattern.  I was relieved that we were not asked to join them, although Joy was singled out and asked to join the adult group (mostly women).  In her shuka and Maasai jewelry, she looked the part and did a great job.

After the service, we were invited into the pastor’s house next to the church for chai tea.  This is the second Maasai home I have had the privilege of being invited into and I’ve noticed something: the living room in both homes was crammed with as many couches and chairs as would fit along the walls.  In this case, the living room had three couches and four armchairs packed into the tiny room, which speaks to the importance they place on hospitality.

We were all served chai tea in tin cups filled absolutely to the brim.  It was super hot so it had to be drunk very slowly.  It was a little difficult to hang onto a tin cup, but I managed without spilling.  We met a couple of the pastor’s kids and were able to practice our Kenyan greeting.  When you come up to a child, the child will bow slightly and you are expected to place your hand on his head briefly and say Sopa (Hello).

The same chicken that wandered through the church service a few times wandered through the living room, followed by a kitten.

Alice’s house was just down the road and we had to pick up a few things for tomorrow’s work.  It was supposed to be a brief stop, but we ended up spending an hour there.  I had brought a bike seat for her son, Lewis, that my son, David, had given me from his store of bike parts.  Lewis has a bike that was given to him last year but the seat was always loose and coming off.  When he learned yesterday that he was getting a new bike seat, he was so excited that he placed the seat on the bike and rode it around despite the fact that it was not tightened down yet.  When we got there today, Dave had some tools along and adjusted and tightened the seat.  Lewis was thrilled and rode his bike around some more after that.

While the bike was being worked on, a couple others started setting out chairs under the roof of the widows center building.  It looks like we were expected to stay for chai tea.  The second helping in as many hours.

As the tea was being prepared, I got out my drone and took some aerial pictures of the place.  Enoch, Alice’s youngest son immediately took an interest and came over to watch.  Several times he stuck his head in front of mine so I couldn’t see what the drone was looking at, but I got a few good pictures.

I landed the drone and then asked him if he wanted to drive.  He didn’t want to hold it as it was being launched but he did take the controls as offered and flew it for a bit.  I offered some instructions on which stick did what, but he was too interested in watching the little dot in the sky rather than the camera image on the controller.  He did manage to fly it around the place and I had to eventually take over and land it as the battery was getting low.

Dave and Willie were teaching Lewis how to play chess at this time.  The game had to be moved when the chai tea came out and we were served tea and bread baked by one of the women at the widow’s center.  Again, tin cups filled to the brim, super hot.  Getting a lot of hospitality today.

It was after 3pm by the time we arrived back to the hotel.  Time for a nap.

We walked to the Narok Coffee House just up the street for dinner, probably Dave & Joy’s favorite restaurant in Narok.  I can see why.  The fish was delicious.

On the way back we stopped at a couple street vendors along the road to buy some vegetables and a cabbage for tomorrow’s lunch.  Another vendor supplied us with four mangoes for 30 shillings each (about 25 cents).  The mango will be my bedtime snack.

When we got back to the hotel we learned that George was just heading our way.  He had been at the wholesaler, buying food staples to be packaged up for a food distribution.  We helped unload the Land Cruiser into the conference room of the hotel.  We’ll probably put together the  food gifts tomorrow night and distribute them to families around where we are working in Olosheki tomorrow. We’ll be packaging up food for 30 families: flour, sugar, ugali, and a few other staples, but when the food is distributed, those that receive it usually share with a few other families, so there will be perhaps 100 families that benefit from this.

For a day of rest, we certainly managed to pack it in.