Does It Feel Good to Talk Again!

I am feeling much better—made it to Customs and back this morning! Joy was up at 6 because she had agreed to go to church with a boy she met (Augustine?). I saw them on a piki on my way to Customs and Billy with Chacha on the way back. It turned out that they went to the same service and were asked to speak to the congregation.

It was a relaxing day. I read the news (which was actually rather disturbing—droughts in Somalia, shooting and bomb in Norway, derailed bullet train in China, and death of Amy Winehouse), refrained from Sporcling, drew Katy, and tried an ink drawing (fail) in the afternoon. I need much much more practice on that if I want to become even slightly unembarrassing.

Joy and I took a long walk before dinner. We talked about relationships, alcohol, yuanfen, kindred spirits and spontaneity/stability; she and I share many of the same sentiments regarding these topics. We differ though, on our opinions about relationships with the local people. I shy away, afraid of becoming too attached to someone who may see me only as a source of easy income, whereas she is willing to take the risk. I wish I could have her attitude and courage. Usually, though, I just feel too tired. Maybe I’m just too lazy to make an effort to know these people better.

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I started reading One Day (stolen from Caitlyn), by accident today. I was returning something to her bed and the book just happened to be lying there. So of course I pick it up just to thumb through, and an hour later Caitlyn comes in and finds me standing next to her bed, reading her book. I’m not weird, not at all.

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Caitlyn, Elizabeth, Sadhna and Leonard went for dinner at Mama Terrence’s. I went with them down to Tagache and to see the tailor, Zainabu, and then we parted ways. I saw Basil again, and he walked me back to WISER. He invited me to his house on Friday. I had met him once on my only run in the opposite direction to Customs, back towards Migori, when he had been cycling to school in Nyatike, and again in Tagache a few days ago on a trip with Joy. I will unashamedly admit that I was proud of myself (and glad!) for remembering his name. He seems genuine enough—I will try and not be so guarded. I must stop this paranoia that I have developed!

A Brief Hiatus

The primary schools are all taking district exams today and tomorrow, so the WISERBridge people have a short holiday. It is a welcome and—I daresay—well-deserved break! I drew some portraits and took a much-needed three-hour nap, which partly made up for the three hours of sleep I’d had the night before (long story; to cut it short, Sadhna, Caitlin and Billy were in the dining room and became somewhat alarmed by a mysterious figure walking around the campus allegedly carrying a bow and arrow. When I walked in to ask them to turn the noise down, Sadhna almost screamed because she thought I was the strange man). I hadn’t thought it would be such a long nap, but I tottered into the dining room after waking up to discover that it was already 4:22p.m. Oops.

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Lunch today was also a good affair. Eggs, kale and spaghetti. I was a happy girl.

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Frank, Joy and I (a trio I dubbed the MBCSA—Muhuru Bay Chinese Student Association) went down to Tagache in the evening to buy some food. Frank wanted to make Asian-style peanut butter noodles; he is becoming quite ambitious with his cooking! I was also on the lookout for sweet potatoes. When I found out that Joy didn’t know the difference between these and regular potatoes, I almost threw a fit. Had I not had a sore throat…

We didn’t find the sweet potatoes—apparently they are only available on market day, which is Friday—but we did meet two drunkards. I don’t think I’d ever seen a drunkard at Tagache before this, but I’d heard the stories. One of the drunkards called Frank Bruce Lee, and ‘Jack’ Chan, and Jet Li, and tried to demonstrate what I think were his martial arts skills. Frank dealt with it well and managed to laugh it off, and the other onlookers laughed with him as well. I can’t imagine that they have much regard for the drunken man. Drinking probably isn’t the greatest of Muhuru Bay’s problems—although it is much more prolific than it should be, given the dominant religions here.

The man’s drunken words bring up an interesting issue, however. I’d faced similar assumptions myself when teaching at the primary schools. I’d been asked whether I knew Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan, whether Jet Li was still alive, and Kennedy had translated for me that the younger kids at Senye thought I looked like the football player Jee-Sun Park. These four faces seem to be the most exposure many of the residents here have had to Asia. Several times I’d had to explain that China and Japan and Korea (I didn’t even try to differentiate North and South—sorry!) were very different countries, like Kenya and Tanzania and Uganda, and although the people looked alike we really were not the same thing at all. And we couldn't travel freely to the other countries, either.

It doesn’t upset me that I have to explain such things, because to be honest I am not surprised that the people here lack knowledge about the rest of the world. Much as I wish it weren’t this way, most have never been out of Muhuru Bay, whilst for many others the furthest they have ever travelled is to Migori. The rest of the world simply is not pertinent to their lives here—and really, they have no way of learning about it. The radio, the limited access to the Internet, the occasional broadcasted football game and Hollywood movie—this really is about all the connection they have to anywhere that is not within walking distance. Our first sit-in Social Studies class at Senye was a lecture about Nairobi; it made me sad to realise that we, complete foreigners with our brief two-day stay in the city, had seen more of the capital and were more credible authorities on the subject than the teacher ever did or was.

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It was Elizabeth’s birthday today. After dinner we surprised her with a cake that Tara had bought all the way back in Kisumu, and somehow managed to bring back intact and without arousing suspicion (she’d told Elizabeth that the box held iced cookies that Abigail had asked for). Billy had managed not to spill the secret this time! The cake was slightly frozen when we took it out of the fridge, but Elizabeth was still delighted. We are starting quite a tradition for birthdays around here!