On Thursday, we came up with the idea to plant flowers outside the front wall of the Nyanya pre-school, so Julius took us to a gardening center and we made our purchases, thanks to the generosity of some of Mae’s friends who had given her some money to use for the preschool. Tuesday morning will be planting time, with Maddie, Mae, and I the gardeners. One of the plants we purchased is called Golden Fountains and our hope is that eventually it will cover that wall as effectively as the one at the Wildebeest.
Haven’t been able to post as often as I would like due to problems with the power. For example, today it was out for about 5 hours, which meant no internet. And when we were shopping for bottled water earlier in the evening, the lights in the supermarket went out twice, neither time for very long, but still… You learn to shrug your shoulders and say, TIA…this is Africa. An amazing thing happened at dinner Friday evening, one of those “No way!” experiences which seem so improbable even as they’re happening. I was sitting next to a woman who was obviously an American (our speech patterns always give us away). We got to talking and I learned that she and her daughter were from St. Petersburg, FL.
“Oh,” I said, “I have some good friends who live there, a retired pastor and his wife. He used to be the pastor of a large Lutheran church in St. Pete.”
“What’s his name?” she asked.
“Jerry Straszheim,” I replied.
“Oh, my gosh!” she exclaimed. “That’s our church. Jerry was our pastor for many years.”
Talk about a small world. Who would have thought I’d meet someone halfway across the world who knows someone I know? Jerry, if you’re reading this, Denise and Tiffany say hi.
Saturday was another slow-paced day. A later breakfast, some good breakfast table conversation with a woman from England, a father and son from L.A., a couple of young people from the Netherlands, and a med student from Liverpool. That’s one of the things I love about this place, the amazing variety of people who come through here, from so many different countries. Conversing with them is a great way to broaden one’s horizons…helps remind me that the U.S.A. is not the only place in the world and the American point of view is not the only one. It also is a great reminder that in spite of differences, we share a common humanity, that compassion & courtesy & respect, smiles & laughter & listening translate across any language barriers.
Which brings us to Sunday. Attended mass today at St. Benedict's with Julius and his family: wife, Beatrice, sons, Zedi and Dale, and daughter, Whitney. How delightful to have drums accompanying the music, to have the congregation clapping, to have the choir swaying as they sang, to have hands raised on the “Halleluias!” The sanctuary was full, about 300 people, and this was the second service of the morning, the first just as full.
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| St. Benedict's Catholic Church |
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| Beatrice and Dale |
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| Zedi and Whitney |
Then, off to see Mary (founder of the Nyanya Project) who had returned from Rwanda and to get some feel for the Biblica Guesthouse, which is where we’ll be staying after our return to Mount Kenya next weekend. A lovely place with beautiful grounds, the rooms small but lovely. We’ll be in and out of there over the following 3 weeks, interrupted by trips to Rwanda and to the Masaai Mara.
And now it’s time for bed. Only 8p.m. but the day has been long, with another long walk late this afternoon. I believe we’re getting accustomed to being the only mzungus (white people) in sight. A totally different experience, being in the minority…and more than a bit humbling. Tutaonana jioni kesho, rafiki yangu. (See you tomorrow evening, my friend.)
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