Muga (greeting in Kimeru, the mother tongue – proper response is “kwega”)!

Things are still fine here.  Per some reader requests, I wanted to give you a glimpse into my daily life here in Igoji (Eastern Province of Kenya).  Here was my day today:

8am – Wake up (they do not have a rooster here, thank goodness).

8:30am – Take “bucket bath” (this involves heating water over charcoal, pouring warm water into bucket, filling another bucket with cold water, carrying both buckets upstairs, pouring a mixture from both buckets into a small tub (holds about 3 gallons) until reaching a comfortable temperature, splashing water on myself, lathering up with soap, splashing water on myself to rinse off the soap (washcloth also helps), pouring dirty water down the drain, and toweling off – don’t let me get started on when I have to wash my hair!); I’ve yet to discover if everyone keeps a layer of soapy film on their body or if I’m doing it wrong.  I should note that my sister in the family, Winnie, and the housekeeper, Faith, take care of most of the aforementioned steps – starting fire, heating water, carrying buckets – they’ve yet to offer to bathe me, but I think if I asked…Kenyan hospitality seems to meet no bounds.

9am – Take breakfast: “white tea” (despite my first impression, this is not a racial reference – it just means that it’s made with milk; aside: the family’s cows are calving, so there’s not as much milk as usual), sweet potatoes, and a mango.

9:15am – Leave the house (shouts of “MZUNGU” – “white person) are heard echoing in the street.

9:20am – Flag down a “boda-boda” (motorcycle), negotiate fare, and hop on the back (shouts of “MZUNGU” as we pass, this should be assumed by now).  Roads are unpaved, so it’s a little bumpy.  

9:35am – Arrive at The General’s house and tea farm.

9:50am – Take “white coffee” (refer to above note – “white” indicates “milk” in this context) and bread with fat spread on it, breakfast with The General and his wife, Jojo Jessica (she is 80-years-old and works in the garden all day – she’s planting beans now).

10:20am – Recording session begins; topics today included: WWII and its effects in Kenya, the Mau Mau Oathing process, how the system of chiefdom evolved (notes to follow in future blog).  I reaffirm every reason why I thought this project was important – I respect this man.

1:40pm – Take lunch with The General and Jojo Jessica (rice, goat, and spinach with carrots).  I also enjoy a bottle of room temperature coke, The General took “Krest” (kind of like Sprite).

2:30pm – Resume session.

4:45pm – Leave for “Texas,” an open-air bar that serves nyoma choma (bbq goat) and beer.  I indulged in a Guiness mixed with Alvaro, a pineapple soft drink.  There was a television there playing American hip-hop – Lil Wayne, Biggie, 50 Cent, and Brittany were all in the mix (The General asked, in English, what language they spoke).

6:30pm – Leave Texas, stop by the road and buy mangoes, and get dropped off at my house (near the coffee farm of The General’s son).

8pm – Take dinner (pilau and beef stew tonight – it is often goat stew and cabbage) with my family and watch the news on television (WWF SmackDown is on tomorrow night).

9:30pm – Review some of the day’s sessions, write questions, read, learn some Swahili vocabulary with Winnie.  

11:47pm – Heading to bed… (we’re seven hours ahead of EST time).  I sleep in a twin, wooden-framed bed with a very thin matress on it.  No mosquito net, so I’m taking malaria prevention medicine.  There aren’t many mosquitos here anyways because of the altitude.  I share a room with Winnie.   

All for now…more later!

Hugs – Laura Lee (aka: Nkirote)

Today we traveled from Nairobi to Meru.  Along the way, I learned what it takes to be a good Samaritan. 

I was in the back of a covered truck with Mwiti, a colleague of The General.  We slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road.  There were windows on both sides of the truck, but I could not see in front (think khaki safari-type land cruiser, with a seat bench attached to each side of the back).  I wondered why we were stopping.  Then I saw two ladies’ shoes lying in the middle of the road.  I worried that someone had fallen out of a car.  We stopped, and I heard The General and the driver raise their voice.  They sounded angry.  Mwiti listened to what they were saying, told me to wait there, and leapt from the truck. 

I still couldn’t see what was going on, but I knew there was some altercation.  Then the back door swung open, and Mwiti threw a large box in the truck with me, filled with smaller boxes ladies’ shoes.  He also threw in the loose pair that lay in the road.  He shut the door and continued the argument outside.  I saw the other men walk past the window and approach the truck.  I was scared that they would try to enter the truck and steal the box back.  Mwiti blocked the door.

I heard a new voice.  The door flung open.  Terrified and confused, I stared at six men pointing at the box of shoes and looking at me.  The new voice belonged to a man holding handcuffs.  I hoped he was a cop.  I heard Mwiti explain in English, “These men were going to take great advantage of the shoes that fell from the matatu.  We know the driver.  They are going to Meru.  These shoes do not belong to these men.”

The policeman recorded The General’s phone number, looked at the shoes, looked at me, and then instructed us to proceed with the box.  Mwiti climbed back in the truck, closed the door, and finally told me what happened…

The shoes were tied to the roof of a matatu (public minibus) heading to Meru that had passed us a while back.  Unbeknownst to the driver, the box blew off the roof and landed in highway.  The men walking along the side of the road wanted to take the lost cargo and run.  The General instructed our driver to pull over and recover the shoes, so that we could carry them to their owner in Meru.  The shoes were probably worth over $150, a considerable sum in Kenya.  The passersby claimed that they owned the shoes, and they argued until the policemen resolved the matter.

I think there are several morals we can draw from this story, but here’s one obvious to me:

Although it sounds good to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes, I think The General was right and noble to intervene before these thieves put the proverb to the test.  We should always question things…

Kwaheri – Laura Lee/Nkirote J

Ps – Yesterday the Commerce Minister awarded The General his “Head of State Commendation” for his pioneering work with the farmers’ cooperative.  The ceremony was televised, and I was so proud to be his guest.