Well today was better than yesterday. I ate my peanut butter and banana sandwich for breakfast. The bananas are really good here. Typed up a thing for Nakuru Children’s Trust, that’s the organization that came out of the whole Rohi thing. Read and did some other stuff. Listening to Phil Collins “Sussudio.” What does that even mean? Anyways, ended up “teaching” the Form 2 guys some computer stuff. I was surprised to see how little they know about making a Word document. There’s a Rohi graduate in college now who is really good at typing and all that stuff, and I thought that these guys would sorta follow suit. Not so much. I think just showing them the basics will be just fine. The Form 1students actually get tested on stuff from the textbook, which there is only one of, and I have it. Makes it a bit difficult for them to learn.
Watched them play soccer and talked with them a bunch. They are full of questions. It’s pretty great. I’m getting to the point when I could pick on them a bit and everybody laughs. They’re teaching me some Swahili. I’m a really slow learner. As I try to recall what they just taught me, I can’t think of anything. I’m lame.
Went to town. 10 min walk next to corn fields, over train tracks, on a path next to mud houses. Jumped into a mutatu, a public transportation van, and waited 30 min for it to fill up. The drive from Mbaruk to Nakuru is about 30 min. But when we stop periodically to drop people off and pick people up, the time adds up. It’s quite humorous when we have so many people packed in that the “conductor” (the guy who opens the door, collects money, and says to the driver when to stop) has to straddle a woman cuz there’s no room to sit. Once we get to town at the “stage” chaos occurs. At least it’s chaos to the uninitiated. Over 100 matatus crammed into a dirt parking lot going every which way with people walking around trying to sell you everything from peanuts to large knives. Then I had to chase down the conductor for my change he owed me (the dude tried getting away without paying me!) HA! He didn’t get away with it. And he knew it too. Then from there it’s about another 10min walk through town to the office where I met with Kamotho, Harun, and Stephen. I helped with some stuff in the office and listened to a conversation, partially in English, partially in Swahili. Two graduates had their house broken into and their clothes, some important papers, and a dvd player were stolen. I thought it was kinda serious, but Kamotho has a different take on things. The whole thing was a bit humorous. Kamotho looks and deals with things from a non-worldly perspective, which is a very good thing. He ended up giving/loaning them some essential things. The interaction between Kamotho and Stephen with these guys and other students is refreshing (and a bit confusing). But Kamotho, along with Stephen and Harun, are so respected by these students. One former student bought a bike with loan money. He is now paying back 100 shillings ($1.11) a day. He’s using the bike as a botabota to give people rides for business.
Went to lunch and had a beef stew/soup and chapati. That didn’t settle too well.
So after a day at the office I went back to the matatus, found the one that had a sign on top headed for Mbaruk and hopped in. Sat there for 25 min then got on the road. Then we stopped randomly to drop something off. Then stopped for gas. It was at this point that I thanked God for that bathroom at the office. Otherwise… well, it wouldn’t have been good.
God is good.
Mr Maina, the principal, took me up the hill/cliff/mountain behind the school. There’s a tiny trail that goes to the top through the trees/forest. I kept on thinking he’s leading me up here to kill me with a machete he’s got hidden in the bushes. Once we got to the top, the view was absolutely stunning. Beautiful. Just one clue that there is indeed a God. Mr. Maina continues to lead me through the corn fields, and I was thinking, “Hopefully my years of training has paid off to survive this.” A couple school girls saw us and they went running and laughing. Then as we got deeper, we saw three ladies bent over weeding. One lady had no shoes, and you could tell her feet were used to this type of work. Turns out Mr. Maina did’t want to kill me. He just wanted to show me some of the property.
Mr. Francis, the owner of the school who is letting me stay in his house came by. He brought some groceries, cooking supplies (pots, utensils, a gas tank with a single stove on top), and other stuff. He really is a giving, generous man. I guess I won’t be doing this camping thing that I’m doing in this upstairs room anymore.
I gave the talk for “Christian Union” tonight. The guys plan everything out. I love listening to them sing. It fills that tin sided room so beautifully. Where they are in their relationship to God, I don’t know, but their song is soothing to my soul.
I’ve been reading the encouraging notes that were given to me. Just one every once in a while, so they will last. I am thankful for all those who wrote one. I’m thankful for those who didn’t write one too.