Glasscock

I’m starting to feel more Kenyan.  Last night we stayed with Kennedy Chandi at his home at the Uriri Orphanage.  At 2:30am, nature called and I had to go outside, in the dark, in Africa, to the cho.  I’m not sure I fully woke up; it seemed to come naturally.  Scary.   OK, that’s probably too much information, but it reflects what a difference experience this trip has been over all of my previous trips.  My goal was to get comfortable moving about in Kenya myself, not as a tourist, staying in the orphanages, getting to know our people.  It. Is. Working.

One of the cool things I am discovering is the interpersonal dynamics between husband and wife in Kenya.  Here, the wife is almost completely silent around visitors.  I hardly got to speak to Eunice at Alfayo’s place and it was the same with Kennedy’s wife.  During dinner, the husband calls for something and it appears immediately.  No conversation.  No, “Get it yourself.” Nothing.  The wife and kids eat in another room.

But later, when we are all in bed, and because there are no ceilings in their houses you can hear the conversations in the other room, it’s different.  I don’t understand the words, but the tone is clear.  Partnership.  Respect. Both of them.  The appearances shown to visitors are because of their customs.  The marriage is the same as ours.  Very interesting, as it reflects an authenticity that we seldom get to see as visitors.

We went to the Glasscock Feeding station this morning.  Faithful readers will remember that this is where we got stuck on our last visit here.  It was the rainy season then, and now it is dry.  I drove on the road that is impassable during the rains, and I understand why.  Very difficult, rocky, mud pits to avoid, but we made it.  I took a picture of where we stopped at Glasscock, about 50 meters short of where we stopped last time!

We looked at the site with a more critical eye than before.  This is a potential orphanage site now, and I asked a lot of questions.  “How far to the schools?”  “What about water?”  “Where are the boundaries of the land?” etc.  We renewed our friendship with the man who donated the land, a committed church member and former WBS student who has carved an acre from his farmland for the support of the orphans. 

Right now, they are carrying water from the river that they said was about 400 meters away.  I asked them to take me there and so we walked it.  GPS says it is 1.25km.  This is normal in Kenya, where they really have no reference points for distance or size.  Most don’t drive so they never get to measure distance accurately.  They were surprised, but believed me, I think.  It means the well that they have started is absolutely critical now.

The kids started to arrive about 10:30am.  This is unusual since they should be in school.  Turns out they were all very disappointed to have missed us last time so they insisted on coming home to greet us.  They sang for us and I gave my now familiar mini-sermon, and then we had lunch. 

Afterwards we departed for Kisii.  We carried Kennedy and another church member to the next town and I dropped my guide for the last three days, Steven Owino, off at Rongo.  Then I drove the last few kilometers to Kisii by myself.  That was weird and a little scary.  But God was with me and I arrived, safe and sound at the Dados where the desk clerk greeted me by saying, “Welcome home, Tim Neale.  Your usual room is ready.”  It’s good to be Kenyan.

Glasscock