Saturday, December 17, 2011

Movin Right Along...

Recently returned from two weeks of in-service training but more about that shortly.

First, let me tell you about celebrating Thanksgiving in Kenya.  Officially we aren't allowed days off for US holidays but most of our bosses know this one is a big deal for us and gave us the day off.  Samantha, Martin, Katie (other volunteers) and myself celebrated at my house.  Wish I had pics but they are on Katie's camera, oh well. Just will have to tell you about it.  No turkey in my neck of the woods so I had my boss bring me a frozen capon (castrated rooster--ouch) from Nakumatt that I defrosted in Father Jorge's kitchen and also cooked it in his gas oven.  Twas yummy!  Our table looked pretty much like yours, laden with mashed sweet potatoes, green beans (not the casserole pleez), regular mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce  (thanks to a care package from Samantha's Mom), apple pie and sweet potato pie.

After getting fully sated, we settled in to watch "The Help" that Martin had pirated on his computer.  Five minutes into the movie it got hung up.  We tried forever to get it to play and even to re-download to no avail.  So much for stolen pics!  Then the power went out so we settled into a loooooong conversation about religion--specifically, how do we reeeeally know there is a God and if you don't believe in God are you reeeeeally going to Hell?  And what about the Jewish, Muslim, Agnostics, Atheists etc.?  Of course we didn't come to a unified front but all hoped we would see each other in the hereafter.

Two days later it was time to hit the road to our two week training session.  Samantha got us all tickets on the 7am matatu, I moved into Katie's house since Father needed my house for his holiday guests, and Katie and I fixed dinner for the evening.  Shortly around 7pm we got a call that there was only one matatu leaving Maralal Saturday and it was at 1am.  We had no choice but to agree to hop on.  It's the end of the "short rains" here and the roads were so bad that only one matatu had made it back to Maralal and no others would be coming.  The roads were all washed out, flooded or mud swamps.

We waited outside in the rain for the matatu driver to pick us up and he called to say he couldn't make it up the hill.  We slogged our suitcases, backpacks and stuff down the hill and jumped in.  We headed back to town to see if he could fill up his ride.  The drivers fill every seat before they leave so you can sit for hours.  Which is exactly what we did!  Not only that but he refused to take on any more female passengers, only male, since the road was soooo bad and he needed men to push if we got stuck.  After an hour wait the price suddenly went up 100 shillings because of the weather.  He finally filled up all the seats at 4am and we were off.  I can't even begin to tell you how scary it is to slip and slide in the dark in a mud pit.  I had shotgun because I bought an extra seat for my suitcase so I had an amazing view.  We weren't 20 minutes along before we got stuck.  Why is it that men drivers want to act so macho?  Really.  If he had just given the gas a steady pace instead of trying to gun it thru the puddle we would never have ended up in that ditch.  We all got out, unhitched the rope that was wrapped around the bumper for such an emergency, and literally pulled the vehicle out of the ditch amid spinning tires, mud and pouring rain.  And we were off again.  Luckily I had worn my rain boots so only they were covered in slop--this time.

At daybreak we slid off the road again into the ditch.  We all unloaded and went for rocks, branches, tree limbs to put under the tires for some traction.  No luck.  We weren't getting out of this one by ourselves.  We were now at the mercy of another driver.

See our "tow rope" wrapped around the wipers and tied to the bumper!

After waiting about a half hour a lorry came along with a chain and hooked up to pull us out.  Guess what?  The chain broke!  So we settled in to wait again.  After an hour a loaded bus came along and managed to unglue us from our muck.  And we're off.  Our so-so fortune lasted about an hour when we came to a road section that had become a lake.  There were four lorries, three matatus, five cars all stuck either in or around the flood and nothing is moving anywhere and the skies were wide open with torrents of rain.  Boy was I wishing I could call AAA.  For five hours we tried every conceivable option to get out of there.  We just managed to get ourselves stuck in another new spot deep in the mud and the macho driver spinning us deeper and deeper into muck.  I tried to take some pics but it was raining soooooooooo heavy that they all came out blurred.  So I settled into my front seat for a nap.  I had just entered lala land when the driver poked me on the arm and said "you drive."  Thank God.  I knew I could get us out of there and I DID! Slow and steady on the gas and we were free.  All the pullers and pushers cheered, hopped aboard as we waved to everyone else still stuck there.  Everyone of us was covered in mud from head to toe, soaking wet and chilled but we were smiling.  What normally would have been a 7 hour trip became 17 by the time we arrived at Nyahururu to spend the night.

We got our rooms, stripped off our muddy garb and dumped it in the sink to soak while we grabbed some food at the downstairs restaurant.  After dinner it was time to wash that crap, our bodies and dig the mud from our boots and shoes.  We boarded another matatu in the morning for the last leg of our trip to Limuru arriving just before lunch.

Limuru is a lovely little village in a valley that reminded me of Shenandoah.  Somehow I missed the memo about the weather--coooooooooold and rainy every day.  Who cares if it is green, full of flowers and a decent hotel if you are freezing your ass off.  No, they don't have any heat there.  Yea, the staff knows it's cold so they do the best they can.  Here is what you get at bedtime
I haven't seen one of these since my grandma gave me one when I had a tummy ache!  Every night at 8:30 pm there was a mad dash to reception to claim yours since they always were short a few.  It did help to take the chill off the cold sheets and keep your tootsies warm.

It was wonderful to spend two weeks with my 50 other classmates that I had not seen since initial training.  Boy have we all changed!  A few mice now roar, and several wallflowers are blooming brightly.  Quite a few found some local love and shed mucho pounds with new found happiness.  Personally, I am enjoying my new level of patience and lack of stress.

This training made much more sense now that we have lived the life for three months.  We have a greater understanding of the local problems and how we may be of assistance rather than trying to solve all of them.

I was also notified during the week that I was being relocated-- a site change.  Since my work is in "the bush" and there is the problem of bandits there, Peace Corps has deemed it unsafe for travel.  So I will be moving after the new year to Kabarnet.  It is a bigger town than Maralal and I will be working with a local SACCO (credit union) doing marketing and PR.  I am excited about the change but will surely miss Maralal, especially Mama dog and Father Jorge and the other PCVs here.  I understand that I have a decent house there but a community toilet and shower without hot water.  Not crazy about the thought of a night run outside for a pee or even dashing in my towel after a bucket bath.  I think I will be doing something about that.

Soooooo, I'm movin right along.  In the meantime, I'm off to Nairobi in the am to meet my baby girl for a fabulous three week holiday vacation.  A very Merry Christmas to all and only good things for you in the new year.  Thank God for your many blessings--I do--and live in the moment cause the next second is not promised.