The Market, Mudslides and Mexican food

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Yesterday was a good day. After torrential downpours the night before, we got up at 5:40 a.m. to see there was no rain. The generator kicks on at that time and all the florescent lights buzz loudly and glare brightly as if announcing that the school semester has again started. To get 14 kids up, dressed, fed, and ready to be on the road is quiet the show. Actually all the kids do really well changing, making their beds and cleaning their rooms before leaving.

It is pleasantly peaceful as I step out of the dorm to walk to the kitchen for morning coffee. In the mornings the mist lies gracefully on the fields and its neatly lined rows of cabbage and corn, the trees, and the houses that are scattered along the hillside. In the distance is my favorite mountaintop that shows its face when the fog is not too heavy. The sun starts to rise and it casts soft shades of yellow and pink. I soak in the peacefulness of the morning and thank the Lord I am able to experience this bit of His beautiful creation.

Wednesday is Market day so after we drop the kids off at school, we head back to the site to clean, have breakfast, then take off for the neighboring town of Naivasha. It is a 30 minute drive down the side of a mountain. Going down is much easier and faster than coming up as we can often get stuck behind old trucks, sputtering and spitting the black smoke of diesel in our faces. Sometimes there is an occasional donkey that gets too close to the road or a goat feeling a little adventurous. While driving you just really learn to be aware of everything in your presence.

The market place is set on a piece of dusty land. There are noises, bright colors, donkey pulled carts, cars, bicycles and tons of people bustling around the outside of the gate amongst the litter and the cactus lining the road. Inside the gate are the suppliers and purchasers of the freshest produce brought from people’s gardens. There are plenty of bananas, pineapples, watermelon, beans, green beans, cabbage, carrots, onions, tomatoes, and spinach sitting on cardboard or burlap bags on the ground or makeshift tables. It is crowded, hot one moment when the sun is shining and cold the next when it hides it face behind the clouds.

From there we go to the grocery then the material store. Someone has their radio blaring outside the shops with what sounds like really happy Swahili music. One’s senses could never get bored in such a place.

We head back up the mountain side to pick the kids up from school. Their school is a private school so they all wear uniforms. They look mighty handsome in their ties, matching maroon vests, grey shorts (skirts for the girls) and knee socks. They come home filthy most days as the floors to their school are all natural…dirt floors.

They all had their heads shaved before the semester started on Tuesday. Even the girls, minus Eunice and Grace who like having cornrows. They use Vaseline instead of lotion for their skin. So, we have 14 shiny faced, shaved head kids and they could not be more beautiful!

As we drive home we get to our road which leads back to our site. It is one kilometer off of the paved road. Due to the large amounts of rain our road had turned to mud soup with the extra ingredients of sticks and stones. Half way down our road we slide into a ditch (that was my wonderful driving as I was trying to pass two donkeys pulling a cart). Thirteen of the 14 kids got out of Musso, our car/SUV that is supposed to seat 7. (We are really praying for a bigger vehicle). It is like a scene from a circus where kids just keep coming out and coming out. They wanted to push and Christine and I wanted them to walk home, avoiding the mud. Instead they stood on the sidelines in the grass and cheered as a few of us tried pushing. The cheers then turned to outrageous laughter as Musso was spitting mud on all of us who were so kindly trying to get him unstuck! What kid doesn’t like to get muddy?! With the help of a couple of neighbors, a hoe and lots of pushing we finally set Musso free from her muddy bondage.

Mexican food….We have a visitor from Houston , Texas who is Mexican. His name is Rudy. He is working in an orphanage a few hours away that houses 41 kids. He was telling us the kids can not go to school because they have no uniforms and no shoes. They bathe in cold water and wash their clothes, dishes and everything else in cold water with no soap. They eat no fruit and very little veggies; mostly starch. He is feeling like he is in Heaven here at our place and I am reminded to never, ever complain. I hope to visit the orphanage in the future and see if there is any way to help these little children. It is only one of many. We know the kids there are glad to have Rudy and some other American volunteers.

Rudy and I were reminiscing about the days of good Mexican food (back in Texas ). So, we decided to make some for the kids and staff. It turned into a group project as our guard/gardener/fix-it-man made their traditional “chapati” minus the heaps of oil…out came tortillas! We had kids cutting tomatoes, onions, fingers and some turning and burning tortillas. Nelson was standing guard over our little 12” high coal burner that subs as a burner when we need an extra. We had the coal burner outside the kitchen door as it was too hot inside with 8 people. He was guarding the meat that was cooking against Monkey and Jackson (our dogs) as they too wanted to taste Mexican food. The aroma of Mexican food was blowing in the wind and everyone’s mouths were watering. I am glad to announce that this dinner was a big success once it was said and done. (Much unlike my try at spaghetti).

So, another day is closing and I say my prayers of thanks that I am privileged to work with such wonderful children. There will never be a lack of work to do for the kingdom; let us never lack working for it. Our prayers go out to all who are suffering back home and all those who are helping.

Thanks to all who support us with your finances, prayers and love!

May God bless you with peace and an abundance of love and joy, jen (:

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