Monday, February 22.2016

Monday, February 22, 2016

John and I met up at JFK in the Central Diner outside security in Terminal 4.  We were too early to check in (the ticket counter didn’t open until 12:30) so we grabbed a quick bite.  Good chicken salad wrap, the fries were pretty weak.  How can you undercook shoestring French fries?  The answer to that question awaits in the kitchen of the Central Diner.

I should introduce you everyone to John.  We were best friends in high school and have since reunited as though we hadn’t lost any time.  That says a lot about him.  He and I share the same temperament, or lack-thereof – we’re pretty low key.  He has always has a subtle, slightly dry sense of humor so we’ve been laughing quite a bit on this trip, and that bodes very well for the week.  I’m hoping it helps to put him at ease.  That’s a good segue to explain why we’re traveling together.  Long story short, he had to go to Nairobi, I had to go to Nairobi.  Boom!  He’s giving a talk and hosting a booth at a Pharmaceutical Summit in Nairobi.  His expertise is in quality control and compliance in the pharmaceutical production industry.  Yes, it’s a mouthful, but it’s also very interesting stuff.  I continually have to check myself to stop asking questions… I have a tendency to do that when he’s at his busiest.  Tomorrow we’ll be setting up the booth at a beautiful yet ridiculously expensive hotel outside of Nairobi.  We’ll be staying at the Nairobi Hilton and traveling back and forth each day.  Hakuna matata. I think the Safari Park Hotel is 8x as expensive.  Insane.  I’m assuming their doing that to “thin the heard” and ensure they’re getting serious firms to attend.  We’ll keep you posted.   I’ll be sure to take plenty of action photos as he talks to manufacturers and other QC specialists.  If you’re in Nairobi, stop by the Qualicuetics booth!

Anywho, we’ll be in Nairobi for a few days while I act as his roadie, then we head to Maseno/Kakamega for a few days, then we head to Masai Mara for a few days.  Then we come home. 

We’re probably still an hour away from Nairobi (we’ll be landing at 8:10pm), and I’m taking the time to type this now so that I can (hopefully) get a good night’s sleep.  We each slept a few hours as we crossed the Atlantic.  The movie selelction was phenominal, but I still managed to get  a couple hours in.  The plane was empty on the way over, so John got an entire row to himself.  He raised all the armrests and stretched out.  Stupid me passed him several times and never once took a picture! He got some work done while I was engrossed with the screen – Bridge of Spies, Black Mass, Man from UNCLE, Human Ultra, Agent 47 and finally Room.  As you can see, the quality of the films I chose took a serious turn. It became a quantity over quality issue.  The last one was a recommendation from Andrea.  It ran over into the flight from Dubai to Nairobi, but I had to see the ending.  Not what I’d call a “feel good” movie.  She’s reading the book.  If I had to choose one word, it would be “disturbing.”  Now that I’ve made that selection, it’s not a strong enough word.  It wasn’t a horror flick, but the movie was horrifying.  Proceed with caution.  I followed that up with Our Brand is Crisis – Sandra Bullock and Billy Bob Thorton.  I’m trying to think of a word that combines “eck” with “ugh.”  If you come up with one, “Our Brand is Crisis” would be the definition.  More importantly, Katie, Kevin and Karen will be very jealous when I return.  We head back on March 1^st – that’s the day that Star Wars: The Force Awakens is added to the inflight entertainment (insert wailing and gnashing of teeth here)!

John and I moved our seats again for this last leg, too.  We couldn’t get exit rows assigned for this flight, but they were available.  I sat in my assigned seat, and John was across the isle.  He turned and looked at my legs with my knees about a quarter of an inch away from the seatback in front of me, and he let out a very genuine chuckle.  “That’s not gonna work.”  I’m glad it didn’t and we were able to move to the bulkhead.  There’s an empty seat between us, but that didn’t prevent him from showing me a slide show of his last excursion to a friends cottage during that blistering cold spell that we had a few weeks ago.  The pictures of him smoking from a pipe that Gandolph dropped was pretty funny.

This is how well I fit in a regular seat.
His seat isn't reclined, and I'm not slouching

We’re landing in 30 minutes, so I’ll tell you one more story.  I flew to JFK from Bonita Springs – Fort Myers airport.  I asked the ticketing agent to merge the Jetblue flight with the Emirates flight – they’re partner airlines and that would allow my bags to get checked straight through to Nairobi (which means I don’t have to collect them at JFK then re-check them).  She was about to put the tag on my bags when I said,  “Did they change the call letters for Nairobi in the last 12 hours?”  She said,  “I don’t thing so, why?”  “BECAUSE NAIROBI IS NBO, NOT NRO.” I said calmly.  While she corrected the problem, Google informed me that there is no airport on the planet with the letters NRO.  I wondered where  the bags would have ended up, but the only thing that mattered is that they wouldn’t have ended up in Nairobi.  That would have been very, very bad.  Disaster averted.  The pilot’s come on telling us that we will be landing soon, so I’ll sign off.  I’m sure I’ll have a quick story about the cab ride through the city to the hotel.

I was right, but it wasn’t the car ride to the hotel. It was in the hotel.

John travels a lot and stays in Hilton hotels.  I’m going to take a short interlude here to plug the Hilton chain and their Diamond status.  We're on the top floor (#17).  I'll take a picture of the view when it's light out.  The rooms we were given are enormous.  They each consist of two large rooms, two bathrooms, two desks, chairs sofa, king size bed, 2 closets, flat screen tv and a mini fridge.  This place is awesome!  The British influence is still quite prevalent in this country, and I was expecting your typically small Euro hotel room.  This couldn’t be further from that.  John’s in for the surprise of his life when we get to Maseno.  At this point, I’m just hoping there are seats on the toilets!  Everyone cross your fingers.  We’ll worry about water when we get there.  The food was very good and gave John a good sampling of what he has to look forward to this week.  Again, pictures will be taken/posted when I've got a good night's sleep behind me.
After dropping our bags and cleaning up a bit, we met downstairs for a bite to eat.  That was at 9pm.  I just got back in my room.  It’s 12:30am, Tuesday.  We were doing fine enjoying the buffet and a cold beer when we simultaneously became exhausted.  I looked up at John to see bloodshot, drooping eyes.  He was looking in a mirror.  Speaking of mirrors, this is us in the elevator heading for some shut eye.
Not a lot of pictures today, but we’ll remedy that tomorrow.  Sweet dreams everyone. 

Thursday, Aprill 23, 2015

Well, I’m sitting in Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Nairobi waiting for my flight.  There are worse place to have to sit. 

Today was a very easy day.  I was awake early, which I’m sure I’ll pay for later, but it worked out perfectly.  I packed my bags last night but got bored so retreated to my bed and got caught up on everyone’s Facebook posts.  I finally fell asleep around 1am.  My original plan was to sleep until 8:30, have some tea at 9:30, then head to the Masai Market one more time before having lunch with Job and our driver Elli.  In actuality, I woke up at 6am, had breakfast at 10am and watched Job and Elli eat a gorgeous lunch at Java. 

Before that, however, we went to Job’s place to drop off some things, he’s got the equivalent of an apartment about 100yards from the Peacock, so it was easy.  We pulled in and parked so Job could get out.  I was going to wait in the car until I heard Job say, “Luke who’s hee-yah?”  Sam’s son Ben was standing right next to where we stopped.  I got out and said hello and brought him back to Job’s.  Job was holding my suit to give to him after I left, but this was the perfect time to make the handoff personally.  He grinned from ear to ear and said, “Thank you, thank you,” in very good English.  The repeated sentiment was a trademark of Sam’s that probably rubbed off on him.  Same could never say anything once.  “Karibu, karibu,” “Asante, asante,” Erikomano, Erikomano.”  It was all part of his charm and charisma.  We walked back to the car where Ben said, “Safe journey,” in his baritone voice.  We turned the car around and headed back down Busia Road. 

The road was just as crazy as usual… bicycles, motorcycles, cars, lorries, and tuk-tuks were everywhere.  I haven’t said anything about tuk-tuks, so I will now.  They’re a nuisance.  I saw a lot of them in Italy, and I can tell you that when these three-wheeled vehicles are ready to die, they go to Kenya.  They’re all part of the unorthodox dance that everyone on the road is entwined in.  It’s amazing how close you can come to someone without hitting them.  Repeatedly.  Nothing, however, was going to keep me from the restaurant.

The two boiled eggs I had for breakfast filled me up, so I had to watch Job eat a pork chop and Elli eat a good lookin’ piece of fried chicken.  Don’t cry for me… I had a vanilla milkshake.  There always room for ice cream, and there’s even more room for a milkshake.  Dear God it was spectacular.  So spectacular that I finished it before Job and Elli finished their lunches.  Not to be rude, I ordered another one.  I’ll probably pay for that later, too.  It was just as fabulous as the first one.  How did I not know about this place?!  I’ll definitely be back with the family when we return.  It makes me feel better that Elli and Job had a milkshake, too.

Before lunch, though, we ran to the market to pick up some last minute requests from the US.  It turned out to be a bit more shopping than I thought, but I got some things that I’m very excited about.  Again, cant’ tell ya, it’d ruin the surprise.

We headed back through crazy traffic toward Kisumu International Airport.  It’s a very small airport, but you can get away with calling yourself “international” when you’ve got 5 countries along your border.  Elli let Job and I off, and he helped me in with my bags.  We said our goodbyes and he ran back to the car.  We’ve been in pretty constant communication since we left.  He’s recommended which paper to buy, checking in to make sure I was ok, and we’re currently talking about our projects and Sam’s children.  The phone keeps buzzing next to the computer as I type.  You don’t recognize the pregnant pauses while I respond to him, but they’re there. He just told me that Sam’s boys were all in his “house,” and Ben was crying.  When asked why he said, “I am missing Adams.”  I miss them, too.  After having so many people at your home for so many days, I imagine it has to be difficult when they all finally depart.  It just so happened that I was the last one to go.  We’ll be back, though, and I look forward to that reunion.

I found myself inside the Kisumu airport waiting for my 2:30 flight to depart.  At 2pm I looked outside and noticed there were no planes.  None.  Zero.  Zilch.  Nada.  That’s a problem.  A couple minutes later, an announcement came on followed by a representative from the airline coming to tell the people at the gate personally (because you can never understand what the agent says over the speakers – it’s like a McDonalds drive thru) that, “The flight has been delayed.  It will now be departing at 1600 hours.  Sorry.”  There were a lot of “clicks” from the crowd.  That’s the normal sound of disapproval if your Kenyan.  You press your tongue against the roof of your mouth then snap it down.  I was either in a henhouse, or people were pissed.  Nobody raised their voice or even questioned what caused the delay.  Instead, we all just hunkered down for another hour and a half.

The plan did finally arrive and after a bumpy ride, made it to Nairobi where I am sipping a Tusker and eating chips.  Yes, I’ll pay for this later, too.  My flight leaves at 10:20pm so I’m hoping I’ll get some sleep on the way to Dubai.

I’ve been thinking about he days that have passed and all the stories that I had forgotten about.  Now that we’re up-to-date, I thought I’d share them now.

Do Kenyan’s have something against the Irish?  I don’t know but they must have chased Old McDonald out of town.  One day while I was sitting with John, he started humming, then singing “Old McDonald Had a Farm.”  It was his lyrics that through me for a loop. When he started singing, I joined in but it all fell of the tracks after “Old…”  I said, “McDonald,” and he said, “Kacheza,” (Kah-chay-zah).  What the heck?  I know you guys are good farmers, but Old McDonald’s been around forever.  Well, not it Kenya.  If it makes you feel any better, Kacheza’s farm is significantly smaller… cows, chickens, goats, and peanuts.  I never got to the end of the song to hear what a peanut sounds like.  Sorry.

While walking to school one day, we passed a group of very drunk men.  Job called them, “victims.”  “Victims of what?”  “Changa’a,” he said.  Then he told me what this stuff was.  It’s basically Kenyan moonshine, but that makes it sound harmless.  It’s important to note that “changa’a” literally translated means, “kill me quick.”  You’re about to find out why.  Job tells me that it contains anything from formaldehyde, to “ladies undergarments” and even rats.  Yes, I said “rats.”  It’s not a typo.  Rats will find the stills and climb into the tubs to their doom.  Apparently that adds flavor… or something.  I’m not so sure that “victim” is the right terminology.  “There’s another failed suicide,” might be more accurate.

It’s funny.  In general, Kenyans are small people; I’d say a little bit smaller than Americans.  I would have to clarify that by saying that the Luo people are a bit smaller.  If we were talking about the Turkanans, I would have to say, “They’re a very tall people.”  It’s just one of their traits.  Now back to the Luo.  Whenever I get out of a car or walk past a couple of men, it’s always the same.  They mutter something that I can barely hear, and Job starts laughing.  “Okay, what did they say this time?”  “They said you are huge.”  “They said you are big.”  “They asked if you are in the army.”  When I’m exiting the car and there’s someone standing next to me, by the time I’m out of the vehicle, they look up at me and just say, “Kubwa.”  “Big.”  It’s certainly got it’s advantages… not too many people want to mess with me here.  Now that I think about it, this trip was the only time I had to yell at someone.  I can’t remember what was going on, but I distinctly remember gesturing and shouting, “Tokeni hapa!”  “Move from this place!”  When/if I remember, I’ll let you know.

Although the place I stay is called “Peacock Resort,” it’s not really a resort.  I’ve got all that I need, and my needs here are pretty simple; Bed, desk (or something that resembles one), some type of closet and a bathroom.  Now, this place is head-and-shoulders above our previous accommodations at the Maseno Guest House, but the bathroom is the part that can always get a bit dodgy.  So there’s a European heater attached to the shower head that heats the water – you just have to turn it on 15-30 minutes before you take your shower.  There’s also a tub coming out of the head with another little shower head at the end of it that you can open or close; sort of like a shower wand.  BTW, the toilets in the shower, too.  Kevin’s a big fan. Me? I don’t get it.  Anyway, this particular combo had both shower heads open, so I had to wrap the tubing around the larger shower head to try and maneuver it so that all the water was falling in the same place.  Difficult to describe, and difficult to accomplish.  I managed ok, but the resulting water flow meant that 5 minutes into a shower I felt like I was on the Titanic (towards the end of the ride, not the beginning).  The hole in the corner of the shower can only take so much before it starts to back up.  Well, most of the time, it backed up into my bedroom.  I didn’t have a shower curtain, but that wouldn’t have mattered, the water kept creeping into the room.  I knew it was time to get out when it was getting about 3 tiles away.  I guess that means I was standing in dirty, dirty water.  Not so funny anymore.

Oh!  This isn’t so much a story, and as I’m typing this won’t matter to many of you.  In fact, it will only really matter to Andrea an me, but I managed to shave off 8 days worth of beard from my face last night.  I’ve always waited until I got home for two reasons.  1.  I never wanted to have any reason to get water close to my mouth, and 2. I never had a trimmer.  Well guess what?!  This time I brought one, and it feels great!  The hair on my face is predominantly white and incredibly itchy.  It always makes it difficult to sleep, and I’m constantly running a comb through it when I’m awake.  For some reason it manages to stay sticking straight out from my face until it decides to turn and try to burrow back into my skin.  If you want to see a bearded Jablonski, you’ll have to see Kevin.

These stories should have kept you busy enough for now.  I’ve still got a couple hours before we board and I want to get this computer charged.  I’ll see you all in Dubai!

Oh, by the way.  There are no streetlights in the city, so this is what driving at night looks like.  I try to avoid it.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Another amazing day!

I started out with us picking up Marcelyne Rembo at the Maseno Station.  Marcelyne is a young girl that we sponsored in high school; paying her tuition and supporting her with supplies, uniforms etc.  She was enrolled at Huma Secondary School and was about to be thrown out when Noelle Shinali contacted me.  She was a special case, and Noelle had never asked me for anything.  “Kindly, if you can assist her…” was all she said.  That was enough.  Four years later, that shy little girl is now a vibrant young woman who graduated with an A- (a very rare occurance in these parts).  Now she has colleges asking her to attend and offering full scholarships.  It’s a wonderful story that continues to exceed expectations. 

Anyway, Marcelyne jumped in the car to join us for our ride to Kakamega.  Job pointed out that her mother was on the other side of the road waving.  “Simama,” I said, “Stop!”  I got out and met her in the middle of the street with a big hug.  She is a lovely woman of very, VERY meager means and sacrifices everything for her children’s education.  She doesn’t know much English, and her Kiswahili is not as strong as her Doluo.  I said I would see her later this afternoon, “Wabioneri!” and she smiled and waved goodbye.

The ride to Kakamega was pretty.  We made a slight detour to stop and see our friend Suchi.  He’s a representative from Reach the Children and they help facilitate our wire transfers.  We were anxiously waiting the arrival of the money to begin building at Agulu Primary School.  Suchi has an eternal and contagious smile so our discussions are always enjoyable as well as being productive.  We talked about the Sanitary Pad projects that both of us are involved in and we’ll soon be exchanging notes to see what parts work the best for both of us.  We discussed our other projects before saying goodbye.  Suchi said that rather than handing us a check, he would wire the money directly into the school’s account.  That will be recorded no later than tomorrow.  Wonderful!

The road to Kakamega

We got back on the road and drove to the Golf Hotel in Kakamega where Noelle was waiting in the back courtyard at a table for 4… right next to the pool.  I would have loved to jump in, but it looked like an orphanage had access to the water (and I was fully clothed).  Noelle waved as we approached. She’s always happy to see us, and getting to see Marcelyne made it that much more special.  We sat down and ordered milkshakes before talking about Marcelyne.  We couldn’t really talk on the 1 hour car ride because of the noise of the car coupled with the wind through the windows.  The road went from being nice and smooth asphalt to horribly rippled and bumpy dirt.  It was easier to listen and watch her speak this way.  She’s very well spoken and has an incredible drive to succeed.  She talked about the goals that lie before her and I have no doubt that she’ll achieve all of them. 
Noelle then gave us an update on her work.  She is a community development specialist, and is committed to helping poor children in her country.  She’s trying to get a job with the United Nations… she applies at every opportunity but can’t seem to get her foot in the door.  She’s a college graduate, incredibly well spoken and like Marcelyne, has an incredible drive.  I’d hire her in a heartbeat, but it wouldn’t be enough work for her.

Anyway, we had a lot of laughs before ordering lunch.  The laughter continued, and lunch was fabulous.  Everyone commented on how big the pieces of chicken were.  They were “US” sized, and delicious.  Just so you are aware, the shakes were not. 

   I told Marcelyne and Noelle that I had computers for both of them.  Marcelyne eyes got wide and smiled immediately.  We decided she’ll need one for college so she may as well get used to using one beforehand.  We dropped Noelle’s computer at her home and headed back to Maseno.  Saw a lot of interesting things on the way… here are a couple.

We returned Marcelyne to her mother in Maseno, and that was where Noelle disembarked, too.  And yes, if you’re keeping track, the three of them were sandwiched in the back seat of a little Toyota for over an hour.  Karibu Kenya.  They’re used to it… there’s less room in a Matatu.  Kenya is not a place for you if you need personal space that extends beyond the hair on your arms.  More hugs from everyone and we were off to Agulu.

This was awesome!  There were members of the school board, teachers and of course the Headmistress, there waiting for us when we arrived. The fundis had already removed the roof on both room, so only the walls remained. It was amazing to see how bad these classrooms were.  With the sunlight streaming in, even a blind man could tell they were terrible.  I walked into the first one and realized that it was the first time I was able to stand up straight inside.  I could see right over the lintel.  One of the teachers came to join me and said, “Are you ready to push?”  “Ndiyo!” I said.  We all put two hands on the wall and I counted off, “Moja (moh-jah), mbile (ehm-bee-lay), tatu (tah-too), push!”  It crumbled to pieces as it fell through the air.  The air, by the way, was blowing directly at us as the wall hit the ground.  We were instantly standing in a cloud of mud and dung dust.  Yes, I said, “dung dust,” and let me tell you, that stuff gets everywhere.  Yes, I said, “everywhere!”  I’ll be showering tonight.

We then went to the next room.  This wall was a little taller, and after the, “moja, mbile, tatu,” this wall decided to fight back a bit.  We had to rock before it finally gave way, but gave way it did.  Just like it’s predecessor, it hit the ground with a loud thud and shattered into a million pieces.  Mother nature was kind enough to turn the wind around for this one, so I was spared getting in my mouth a second time.

  

With that, we entered the office and sat down.  I opened my pack and began removing items.  First was the pencils, pens and crayons, then came the lollipops (which got huge applause – we should be spokespeople for Dum-Dums) and finally, some of the t-shirts left over from our 5k.  I brought one for each of them, and even grabbed an XL for a particular teacher who always greets me with a big hug and a smile.  After he put it on, he sat down, and the tears rolled down his face.  These people are truly wonderful.  We talked for a bit about the project.  I let them know that funds were also being   

sent to install gutters and a tank behind the ECD (Early Childhood Development) classrooms (kindergarten).  The water from the roof has begun to erode the land behind the building, and it’s bringing the revine closer to the base of the school.  Redirecting the water to a tank should resolve the situation… as well as help providing some potable water.  Before I could leave, there had to be a prayer, so I got one… and it was a long one!  Even so, it was very nice.  The key requests were, “safari njema” (safe journey) and “come back to see us.”  I shook everyone’s hand again as they walked us to our car.

As you might have guessed, the clouds were starting to rumble so we hurried over to Mbaka Oromo to see Susan and Emmah.  Much to my disappointment, Susan was nowhere to be found.  Their grandmother Esther was working in her shamba (garden) so she came over to greet me.  Emmah soon emerged from one of the huts, as did her younger brother Danton.  Their mom came from another field, waving and smiling as she approached.  We wanted to try and stay ahead of the rain, so we made this a pretty quick stop.  Pencils and pens for the Susan and Emmah, as well as two bags of sweets.  She was very happy, and she usually is.  She laughed as I showed her pictures of her and Susan from the day before.  These girls hold a special place in the hearts of Andrea and Karen, so they hold a special place in mine, too.  I feel bad that we didn’t see Susan, so I may try to sneak back before we leave for the airport tomorrow morning.  We’ll play that one by ear.  At this point, I’m just hoping that there’s hot water when I wake up.

Sam's youngest son, Moses

Susan and Emmah live just past Sammy’s home, so we stopped to say, “goodbye” one last time.  All the boys were in Maseno with the exception of Moses.  Moses looks like a smaller version of Ben, and he too shares his fathers sharp features.  I fooled around with him for a bit because this was the first time I got to spend time with him.  When I was here the other day, he was taking exams in school.  That’s all behind him now.  His mom Carolyne came out to say hi carrying some white cloth.  Job said, “She has something for you.”  She reached out her hands and said (in perfect English) “These were Sam’s church clothes when he played the drum.  We want you to have them.”  I thought I was done with the tears, but apparently not.  I said that to her as I held the white garment in my hands.  The red stictched “Israel C.A.” (Israel Church of Africa) stood out and I immediately went back to days when I saw him playing for the church.  I had to remove my glasses because I could now no longer see.  I apologized, but they said, “Sorry” first.  I once again thanked them profusely as we headed back to the car.  It was another quiet ride back.

It started to sprinkle when we got back to the Peacock.  We were expecting John Anguso and Dan Otieno at about 6pm, so that gave me close to an hour to get this entry started.  45 minutes into typing, it started to get very windy, then cooler, then wet!  It was really blowing hard for a little while, so I retreated for some better cover than just a patio umbrella.  I sat on the veranda under cover, but then had to move into the main building because of the horizontal rain.  I sat inside the restaurant section on a very uncomfortable sofa while Job and I ate salt & pepper pistachios.  These were a big hit, and I will definitely be bringing them back with me next time.

John and Dan didn’t arrive until closer to 7:15.  I took John back to my room, away from the loud music and louder weather, so that we could call Andrea.  She wanted to say “Hi,” to John and the 7 hour time difference makes it difficult.  Today worked out perfectly because they were passing by on their way back home.  We talked on the phone for a little, but it kept cutting out so we tried FaceTime.  HUGE SUCCESS.  There aren’t many Kenyans that get to FaceTime with people they know back in America.  Even fewer of them are 70 years old.  John absolutely loved it, and so did Andrea.  After awhile, Job came back and said, “What are you guys doing?”  Once he saw her on the computer it was, “Hi mum! Let me go back and bring Dan.”  They both came back entering the room with big smiles.  Dan yelled, “Hello,” and moved around behind John trying to figure out the camera.  John was still doing the same.  It was a great experience to be able to watch these two talk to Andrea.  They had a wonderful time.  Andrea introduced them to our dog Sox, showed them our back yard (proving that we have a forest back there… although there are no leaves on them right now), as well as our kitchen and family room.  They loved it.  It was almost like taking them to America.  We finally had to hang up, but they talked about it for the next hour.  I can guarantee that they’ll be talking about it for months.

We went outside and had dinner as we talked about Mbaka Oromo and Sam’s family.  Although it was perfect for me, John was getting quite cold so Dan piled everyone into his car to head back home.  I walked them to their car to see them off.  One last handshake and “oriti” (oh-rhee-tee, “goodbye” in Doluo) and they were off.  John was the last one to get in the car, and before he closed the door I said, “Wabi wuneri.” (wah-bee-woo-nairy, “see you soon”).  He smiled and waved as they pulled throught he gate in the rain.

I went back to my room and started to pack while I uploaded the pictures that are scattered on this page.  I’m ready to be head home.  The planes won’t be able to fly fast enough for me.  I’ll see you tomorrow in Nairobi.

Another child proving
the point I made
yesterday.

This is Sammy's compound.  The two houses on the left
are his son's Mickey and Antoni.  Sam's home is behind the
trees to the right, and the end of the path.