Aaaaah Lamu...

Lamu is an old island Arabic trading town dating back to the 2nd century A.D. Only 37 miles from the Somali border, it is hardly an idyllic oasis.  With a hair more than 20,000 people, over 6,000 donkeys and 2 vehicles, it does have its charms if you can look past the gazillion flies and mounds of donkey poop.  You can walk from one end to the other casually in under 45 minutes.

You fly into the newly renovated Manda Airstrip and then take a short 10 minute boat to Lamu.

                         On arrival your hotel arranges for a boat to whisk you over to the island.

We were visiting at low season which was good because it was not crowded or exceedingly hot.  Bad because most of the restaurants were closed and tourists meager.  Sooooo, we got hit up by every boatman trying to make a few shillings in a slow period.

We stayed at Lamu House, situated right on the water with a splendid balcony to view all the happenings day and night.  The is a renovation of two former houses by a spanish architect who captured the Swahili nuances perfectly, especially the windows that snatch the breeze from the ocean to ventilate each room.

               This is a bedroom window, of which there were six on one wall, each with a unique view.

                  Even the breezeways provided gentle air flow while blocking the heat of the sun.

Most Swahili style homes are two or three stories with courtyards in the center having a pool or water feature. In the old days this water was stored to be used for cooking, washing  or bathing.  Our pool area was surrounded by a dining area for perfect al fresco dining and star gazing.

Even here, the architect made sure you could capture the view and breeze by positioning windows with interesting views along the sheltered wall.

The rooms were spacious, traditionally decorated and had awesome bathrooms.  We had a double shower so powerful it actually blew off the head.  Though I think it may have been a bit loose anyway.  Solar panels on the roof provided constant hot water on demand.  Every room had a view of interest and the balcony was our favorite perch in the late evening or early morning.

            And the sights were quite tranquil.  Boys walking home from school in late afternoon.

                                School girls pooling their change to buy a sweet treat on the way home. Some of the best I have ever tasted from street vendors: buttery shortbread cookies and drippy molten peanut brittle.

                                   A fish monger heading home after selling her catch for the day.

              Donkeys hard at work hauling sand for the new jetty or to make cement for a new home.

You could probably see the whole place in a couple of days--if you could find your way among the maze of alleys that meander from coast to sand dunes.  Forget about signage. You eventually have to ask for help to find your way back and of course pay for the assistance too.

                              A typical alleyway with dukas on both sides of the sandy walkway.

This shop sells the wooden serving plates hanging on the wall.  The moon and star are emblematic of Lamu.  He collected broken plates and dishes and melded them into the doorway concrete.

Though many shops, restaurants and hotels were closed for May/June, there were enough open for us to find interesting beadwork necklaces, leather handbags and beaded wallhangings.

In this shop, everything was for sale, even the chairs and tables made by local craftsmen. We spent an eon here just looking at all the talented workmanship.

             You could buy this beaded wall hanging or have them design one to your color palette.

                          Even the art on the walls had a price.  This is a bit tortured for my taste.

Since I live in the mountains and exist on beef and goat, I was famished for fresh seafood.  Even in low season, the options are endless.  Fish still swim and jump on a hook, right?  We tried a few lower end spots and had tasty barracuda, a new one for me.  Then found a more upscale spot in the heart of the coastline with amazing fresh tuna on the salad nicoise.

                But gimme some shellfish!!! This was the biggest scampi I know I have ever seen. And the lobster I know still had a pulse as it lay prone on the plate.  I didn't bother with the taters though Dutchess said they were yummy with fresh parsley sprinkled on top.

One of the real charms of Lamu is a sail on a dhow.  We negotiated for a day trip over to Manda.  These boats are all crafted by the owners.  And I mean crafted not in a good way.  Our crew was bailing water before we even pushed off!  Every available, usable piece of wood, nail, cloth, tin can or bucket is put to use on these vessels.  They must spend hours each day just patching things so it will still sail.

So the crew carries us aboard as it is low tide.  With our new Aussie friend Mark, we head out in the early morn to catch the wind around Lamu, view Shela on the other end of the island, and stop for a freshly prepared catch and swim off Manda Island before heading home in the afternoon.

A view of Lamu from our dhow.  The water looks bluer than it really is, but it's a warm day, nice breeze and the water is the perfect temp for a swim.

Every dhow seems to have the Captain's mantra somewhere.  Love this one. I definitely need a mind beast for a weapon, right?

The crew set about grilling our fresh perch, steamed rice, stewed veggies and tomato salad.  We also had a whopping fruit plate of mangoes, oranges, and bananas under a palm hut while they cleaned up afterward.

Looks like a storm is coming, so we packed up and prepared to swim back out to the dhow and sail home.

Sailing into the setting sun with the wind at our back, the crew started singing a few local tunes to entertain us on the wind.  And of course maybe earn a tip as well.

Back ashore we left the storm on the other side of the isle but the rainbow welcomed us home with the incoming tide to moor the boats in place for the evening.

I will remember walking below the fortress that was the main protectorate centuries ago and wondering what the view must be like from up in that tiny window.

And imagining the noise as hawkers sold their fruits and vegetable in the market square long ago.  Now mainly deserted save for a few mamas selling fruit juice freshly mashed on the spot.

I will remember watching the dhows hoist their homemade sails to catch the wind for a tranquil sail.  So quietly it happens that you don't even hear the snap of sail as it catches the breeze.

I already miss it.  So we're headed back in November for their cultural festival around our thanksgiving time.  We've already heard about the dhow races, donkey races and even goat races.  Not looking forward to all the flies and dodging piles of poop on dark, sandy paths with my flashlight in tow.  But no beach is perfect, right?

Who Poisoned Sukari?

I didn't need that cute little white paw smacking me in the face to wake up this day.  I popped my own eyes open early with excitement for my trip to the Kenyan coast and isle of Lamu.  Had been wanting to go since day one here but it had been off limits until just a week prior.  My friend Dutch and I made hasty plans and were to meet up there the next day.

I opened the front door to my postage stamp yard that had been a construction zone for a week now. All the abodes had become leaky sieves with the seasonal rain so the roof was being replaced.  Since the sand pile was in my front yard, it was also the dumping zone for every kind of implement needed to do the job, including the ladder that was constantly poised over my bedroom window for roof access. When I peeked out, Mama Rhoda's son Alfred was on the ladder and I said habari.  He didn't speak but scampered on up to the roof as I let Sukari out for her constitution.  About ten minutes later I was coming out of the choo and Alfred was standing there waiting for me with a strange sheepish look on his face. He then said he "heard someone had put poison out for the dogs and I might want to watch Sukari." (This is their means of animal population control) I asked him why he didn't tell me this when I first saw him and got no response. Sukari came running up at that moment and I quickly took her inside and closed the door.

Within five minutes I noticed that she was not able to walk.  Then she laid down on the rug and started seizing--legs straight out and rigid and her eyes darting everywhere trying to focus.  I knew.  I had heard that milk counteracts the poison so quickly poured a dish but she didn't have the strength to lap it up.  I opened her mouth and moistened my fingers with the milk and dribbled it inside.  Then she would shake and seize again. 

I know I went into shock at that moment.  The dark black eyes were showing their whites with abject terror.  She didn't know what was happening to herself and I didn't know what else to do.  I'm lying on the floor with her, stroking her head, speaking softly, just thinking I will stay here with her until she takes her last breath however long it takes. I was frozen.

 My phone rings and it's my boss wishing me a good safari and I start wailing that Sukari is dying.  He says he is out of town and will send my coworker Monicah.  She calls immediately and says she will come in a taxi to take us to the Vet.  15 minutes later she walks in my front door.  She is horrified at the sight of the two of us on the floor nose to nose. (At that moment I had forgotten she had been through this before when her dog had been poisoned.)  I wrapped Sukari in a towel because she was drooling and peeing herself, we locked the door and ran through the compound.  Everyone was outside--workers, Mamas, babies, children all getting going with their day.  I heard Mama Rhoda ask what had happened and Monicah saying Sukari had been poisoned.

We rushed in the taxi with me in the back seat holding Sukari while her eyes are pleading with me for some knowledge to solve this problem.  All I can do is catch my breath between sobs and wipe the snot from my face while trying to comfort her.

We arrived at the Vet office, which is part of the local government offices in town, and Monicah's husband is standing there with the Vet in tow.  Dr. Kipsan has a gentle nature, nice smile but very brusque with dogs.  After all, he usually treats cows and sheep.  He motions me to put Sukari down on the desk (no exam tables here), he thumps her stomach whereby she seizes again, and manages to say between my sobs that "it will be okay."  The look on his face said something different though.  He quickly told one of his assistants (a tall guy in a suit who walked with a cane) to go to the market for two fresh eggs.  I'm thinking I can run faster but don't want to leave Sukari.  A few minutes later the guy returns. Kipsan cracks the eggs into a bowl in the sink, scrambles them with his hand and pours them into a mega syringe.  I remember thinking "these are the ones they use to do animal semen injections, I hope it's clean."  He tries to open Sukari's mouth but it is clamped tight so he squirts it into her jaw area.  Probably 60% actually went down her throat and the rest oozed from her mouth each time she seized.

By now there is quite a crowd gathered to watch the muzungu wailing over a dog wrapped in a towel laying on the admin desk.  I'm sure the word spread when the guy went for the eggs.  Monicah and her husband Joshua are close by with fear all over their faces but trying to console me anyway.  Sukari is still lying on the desk with occasional seizures but otherwise not moving.

Now Kipsan is telling the assistant to go to the chemist (pharmacy) for something I dont understand.  I have a recollection from my Maralal days that charcoal also neutralizes the poison so I think that may be the order.  A few minutes later he's back.  The eggy syringe is rinsed out in a styrofoam cooler of water by the desk and then this charcoal substance is poured from a plastic bottle into the syringe.  It looked like the charcoal had been beaten with a hammer as it had big chunks in it.  He pries open Sukari's mouth and squirts the yucky stuff down her throat. At least the chunks stayed in the syringe. Then he gives her an injection that he says is an antitoxin.  He lifts her from the desk and carries her into a storage room and says she needs to be in a dark space for a couple of hours.  I peek in to see her cowering in a corner, lying on the floor with only the whites of her eyes showing.  He tells me to come back in two hours that she needs to rest.

I push through the gathered crowd motioning to the taxi driver (yes, he was watching the show) to come and he drove me back home.  I cleaned up the pee pee spots, took out the garbage, closed my windows, grabbed my suitcase and headed back to Sukari.  I had managed to quit my weeping and was anxious and stoic when I returned. 

Kipsan was in his office waiting for me and we began to chat about the incident.  He said it was his office that does the poisoning but had not ordered it.  To do so requires two week advance notice with posters and public announcements.  I told him I lived at the police compound so he called the Commander to see what they knew.  They called back saying they had heard an individual had complained dogs were killing his goats and chickens and had put out poison.  But he said that was only rumor.

By now the two hours are up so we go in to check on my little girl.  She is still lying on the floor in the corner but when she sees me her tail manages a floppy wag and she tries to stand. Only to flop back down again.  Kipsan says "thats good", picks her up and brings her back to the desk.  His assistant had procured a package of milk while I was gone and the trusty syringe was in action again.  She managed to relish the milk and swallowed more than she drooled out.  Then it was back to the storage room for another hour of darkness.  Kipsan said the poison acts on the brain, makes them very confused, so being in a dark, quiet spot allows them to be less stressed.

I sat in his office and read while he made phone calls.  At the end of the hour, he went to the storage room, opened the door, came back to his office and said "if she walks out, she will be okay."  Having to sit there and wait those 15 minutes (yes I looked at my watch!!!!) I was certain my blood pressure was near boiling and I could feel my pulse racing.  Then I see a smile come to Kipsan's face and there's my little girl standing at his office door.  Unsteady, but standing.  I rush to hug her as her little tail gives a feeble wag before she plops on the floor at my feet.   Doctors orders are lots of milk, quiet space and she should be fine in about a week.

I call Monicah who arrives with her husband in a taxi to take Sukari to their home for my time away.  Her tail wags for them too and I know even though I will worry endlessly, she will be in very capable hands.

I get daily texts saying she is recovering well but is very distrusting and fearful of noises and people.

When I return she is very happy to see me but cowering.  It is a holiday weekend and I'm curious to see the vibe on my compound since we rushed out of there.  Well, it's creepy.  No one is saying much, barely a habari and when Sukari sees Alfred she starts growling and barking and running as far away from him as she can pull me. 

Since that day she is now on a long rope leash that allows her to sit in the yard and look around but not long enough to take her from my eyesight. Her days of running loose are over and I don't think she minds terribly.  She is still fearful of noise but does sit quietly and watch the compound activity.  Except when Alfred is around.  Then she barks, growls and runs inside to hide.

So you tell me.  Who poisoned Sukari?  I think she is trying to tell me she knows.  And I believe her.

Some Days Just Suck!

So Mama Rhoda arrived yesterday.  She owns the compound where I live.  It's like I imagine itinerant housing for migrant workers in the 1920s would look.   Two rows of four units. Electricity but no kitchen, water or toilet.  Only a living area and bedroom.  Her unmarried sons occupy three units and their babies and baby mamas live in three.  She rents another to a single Mom with two kids and then there is my unit. Her sons manage the compound, handymen (kinda), burn the trash, feed the cows and chickens and plant the garden.

So when I came in from work with Sukari yesterday, I stopped to greet her and chat for a few minutes.  She said she was happy to see me on her once a month visit.

This morning as I was walking out for work with Sukari, she ran out screeching at me in her best KaSwEnglish (an incomprehensible mix of Kalingen, Swahili and British English). I managed to decifer the gist which was basically "Sukari ni mafi na spoiling my compound." Meaning, Sukari is shitting and ruining my grass.  She promptly ushered me over to the area in question as we dodged spots of chicken squirts and massive piles of loosey-goosey cowpies to show me the evidence. NO WAY! Believe me.  If Sukari had pushed out that poo she would have hemorrhoids the size of gonads!  In my best SwEnglish, I stated that the evidence belonged to the hood dogs that prowl the rotting garbage piles at night. She didn't believe there were any other dogs around. I showed her where Sukari prefers to squat, outside my front door area by the fence,  and informed her that I scoop the poop and put it in the trash pile.  I got that 'sure you do' look from her. I promised that she could come to me at any time and I would gladly remove any droppings that had been deposited elsewhere.

So Sukari and I proceeded on to work with her glaring after me down the road.  As I walked off my anger I thought of telling her how she really needed to attend to a few things for me. Like maybe dig me a new choo since mine is full and flooded.  Or repair the roof where water runs down the walls in my living room area and is beginning to mildew.  Or maybe ask her boys to keep the cows and chickens from crapping in my front yard so I won't have to leap like a high jumper over their evidence!  But then I remembered that my boss is late on my rent.  So I'll hold my thoughts for a bit in case I would piss her off and she would evict me.

Wish I had a picture of Mama Rhoda to show you.  I don't.  If I did I would probably use my paint app and draw a wild mustache, crossed eyes and freckles on her the way we used to do in grade school.  Maybe even a wicked mole or two with a long hair growing from each of them.

We arrive at a local hoteli at 9:55 for a 10am meeting and hang out till 10:30 with noone in sight.  I tell the manager he needs to set up the room for our meeting, which he does. Then I call my boss to ask if the meeting had been moved.  No. It was cancelled last night and he forgot to call me. Great. Thanks alot.Now I look like a stupid muzungu having the room all set up for nothing.

In the meantime, some days just suck.

Just Shake Your Head and Laugh

There are all kinds of crazy things that happen to each of us every day.  Sometimes we cause them but often they just occur.  When they do, the best response is to just shake your head and laugh! I would like to share a few of those inane things that happened to me recently.

The choo:Also known as the outdoor toilet.  Well, it's the rainy season now which means the downpours usually start around 4pm and last all night.  That's ALOT of water!!! And it happens every day.  So last week I went out for a morning constitution, opened the door and it was flooded. Not exactly what you want to see or smell first thing in the day, right. So I just shook my head and laughed.  It took about 30 minutes to muck it all out with a short broom, slosh it with buckets of water and beat away the flies and mosquitos. Unfortunately I will probably have to do that agin soon.

AGM: This is the Annual General Meeting, or shareholders meeting, held for every stock organization.  Kenyans normally dont own stock like we do but they do purchase shares in their local credit union as a requirement for membership.  It's often the most important asset they have.  So the annual meeting is a really big deal and draws a big crowd.  As you would expect, the Board of Directors gives speeches and financial reports about the SACCO (which is where I work) and try to paint a rosy picture.  Well, my SACCO is truly 'circling the bowl' and I would be shocked if they survive for the next year. So, my boss gets up and states how things are "going along really well" yada yada yada. You guessed it.  I just shook my head and laughed.

Hakuna stima: My SACCO is required to pay my electric each month in exchange for me being a volunteer.  On Holy Thursday the stima goes out around 4pm.  I hear my neighbors stereo blaring so I realize it's just me having a problem.  So I call my boss to ask if he paid the bill.  His response was "let me check on it and I will call you back."  I break out my candles and make it through the night.  Of course I didn't get a call back.  The next morning at work I ask for a status report.  "I'm going to pay it today." I just shook my head and laughed.  I was very insistent that he jump right on it for alot of reasons: it's a holiday weekend, my fridge is full of food, they have to personally come to the house and reconnect it, I'm going out of town for the holiday etc.  I get back on Monday and am greeted with a stench wafting thru my door and I KNEW, hakuna stima.  All the food in my fridge had rotted and water from the freezer section had leeched out onto the floor.  Disgusting. My voice definitely had a different tone on the next phone call and he promised to do it the next day. 7pm the next evening a little guy arrived on a piki-piki and reconnected the power. And to my boss it was not a big deal. The bill was only $2. He definitely has a procrastination problem.

Missing groceries: After the stima fiasco of course I needed to restock my food.  I hit the stores after work and was carrying two boxes of food and Sukari on her leash. I saw my usual taxi driver and opened the back door of his taxi, plopped my boxes on the seat and told him I would be back in five minutes. I headed off to another shop to buy some sprite and eggs.  We walk back to where the taxi was parked and it wasnt there! I looked everywhere, walked around the block, asked people if they had seen Kim. They said Kim is at the taxi stand. I trek to the taxi stand and ask Kim why he left me and had my groceries inside.  He shook his head and said "you didn't take my taxi!"  I just shook my head and laughed.  I had put my stuff in someone elses taxi!  Kim was kind enough to drive me around to look for the guy after we found out who it was. The guy had gotten another fare and had taken off. When he came back I reloaded into Kim's cab and listened to him chastise me all the way home.

Well aside from the pain in the ass stuff, there are a few bright notes.

I finally have my shower table/kitchen sink/laundry table.  Only took four months.  The first one the guy made, the holes were too big and the bowls fell through.  So now I can do all my chores standing without wrenching my back.  It seems luxurious.

And with the rains, my garden is thriving.

This is my lettuce.  Yum, yum. I can have a salad soon!!! Got my olive oil and balsamic waiting.

Here's my zucchini jumping out of the box.

And this is my okra that will make some amazing stir fry veggies.

This was supposed to be my garden plot.  I spent hours hauling the rocks and dirt.  Then when it was time to plant, I noticed one of the local dogs reclaiming her hidden bones from my plot.  Bummer.  So I decided to be safe and plant them in the window boxes I hauled two hours from Eldoret.  Just today I reclaimed my plot.  I fished through all the dirt, unearthed the hidden bones, put them where they would easily be found and transplanted my zucchini.  It was getting a bit cramped in the box.  I then used the boxes as a kind of fence  up inside the perimeter.  Hopefully the little seedlings will be safe.  Got my eyes peeled for the dog!

There are a couple of things I will be ecstatic to leave behind in Kenya. One: the smell of burning charcoal.  They use it in small round burners, perched outside, to cook food.  When it rains or is cold, they get hauled INSIDE to provide heat as well. Can you imagine breathing that all night?  The thought of grilling food at home is actually repulsive right now.

Secondly, the smell of burning garbage, especially plastic bottles. I feel like I'm inhaling a toxic waste dump.  There is no garbage collection, so everything is dumped in one heap outside, doused with kerosene and set ablaze.  The stench is breath-taking.  And not in a good way. My tummy does flips whenever either of these occur.

That's it for now.  Today is Mother's Day so be sure to call your Mama with big love or remember her with special prayers.  Missing my baby girl, Stephanie, especially today with tender memories of our Mother's Day outings together.  Kisses baby girl!

A Doggie Perspective

Hello. I'm Sukari.  I'm almost 7 months old, getting bigger, stronger and braver every day.  I know Mama Chris (my human Mom, not to be confused with my real mom MaMa) usually writes this but I thought it was my turn.

The last time you saw me I was a wee little pup living in Maralal.  Mama had to leave here for her job and I sure do remember that day.  This big truck came to move all her things out of the house and then she hopped inside with me in a basket.  Well.  They wouldn't let her take me.  She started crying like crazy and was dripping all over me.  I started shaking cause I didn't know what was going on.  Then she handed me to her friend Samantha that was moving into my old house and she drove away.  I didn't eat for two days but then I got hungry so I started eating.  I had been really sick for a couple of weeks with something Samantha and Mama called the trots.  I remember a dish of food that I ate that tasted really nasty.  But I was so hungry I ate it anyway and then I got better.  Samantha told me it had medicine in it that day.  When Father Jorge would feed all the puppies, my brother would hog all the food and bite me if I tried to eat.  He was SO mean.  So now that Samantha has adopted MaMa and me, we get better food and lots of it.

After two weeks, Samantha loaded me up in my basket in the middle of the night and told me we were going to my new home in Kabarnet and MAMA.  What a loooooong trip. She said it would be 12 hours on matatu.  That is the worst trip of my life!!  So far any way cause I'm still a baby.  Everybody touching me, wanting to hold me, hot, smelly and dirty.  I got so nervous I peed myself in my basket.  When we finally got there and I saw Mama walking down the road to me, I peed myself again but this time because I was so happy.

Our house here is very small and there are lots of hills everywhere.  I'm whupped by the time we get home every day.

We walk thru this gate which is actually where all the police live.  Then when we get to the tippy top of the hill we walk thru a gate to our house which is behind where they live.  Mama says she feels very safe here but I don't.  There are some really strange people and animals here that I have never seen before.

These are two of the boys that live on our compound.  They are always throwing things at me and chasing me.  Right now they can run faster but when I grow up I'm gonna bite them on their ankles and run.

Everyone calls this thing 'pussy' but I've never seen one of these before.  She showed up the other day making all this noise so I went out to check her out.  She didn't run away, but wanted to sniff me and play chase.  She was soooo soft I thought she was another furry toy.  So I picked her up and brought her inside to chew on.  Mama fussed at me and took pussy back outside.  I reeeeally wanted to chew on her and shake her around like my other toys.  Bummer.

There are some other animals I NOW know are cows and I DO NOT like them.  They are two girls and both are going to have babies.  One next month and the other in September.  They like to lay down right beside my gate so it is very hard for me to get around them when I am on my leash.  They stare so hard at me with these black eyes, make a big noise and I know they would eat me if they could reach me.  I usually crawl on my belly around them. (I said I'm getting braver!  One day I will just bark at them when I get big.)

Then there are these chickens.  Well I should say a mama and her baby chicks.  Those baby chicks look so soft too.  I really want to play with them.  I tried one day.  I never saw a chicken run so fast and FLY!  That mama came after me and pecked me on my butt--she was sooooo fast.  Boy was I scared.  I ran home and definitely stay away from her.  She has the nerve to trot her babies right thru my front yard every day just to see if I will come out and chase the babies.  I didn't mention that I was smart too, right!

This is the outside of our little house.  We are back in a corner so we do have some privacy from everyone else on the compound.

This is our living room/kitchen.  Mama just got the furniture so now we dont have to both try to sit in one plastic chair.

This is me in MY chair.  Mama thinks it's hers but I manage to squeeze her out sometimes by acting like I dropped a bone behind the cushion.  When she gets up to help me look, I stretch out into the whoooole chair. Yeah!

This is our bedroom.  We have a double decker.  Mama and I sleep on the bottom and guests sleep on top.  If we have more than one guest, we sleep on top but it's hotter up there and I can't jump that far down.

Everyday we walk to work.  It takes about a half hour.  Sometimes people who know Mama will stop and give us a ride.  In a MATATU no less.  After that 12 hour trip I never want to be in one of those again!!! EVER!!  But like I said, I'm trying to be brave so we hop in.

I like the walk better cause I get to sniff, pee and poop along the way.  I get to see who else has been on my path.  From the smell of things, I eat way better than they do.  There are three other BIG dogs that run around here and they are all afraid of little me. Hahahahaha! When they come near my house, I growl and chase them away.  See.  I can be brave.  I have a really hard time with the trucks, cars and matatus though.  Whenever one of them comes along, I pull on my leash like a wild dog trying to run away from a lion.  I swear if Mama ever dropped that leash at that moment, she would find me in Nairobi!  All that noise, nasty smoke coming out the back and horns blowing.  Believe me.  They NEVER have to worry about me getting out of their way.

We talk to everyone along the way, buy a paper on Tuesday and Thursday, sometimes Mama stops for a shoe shine or soda.  Then we arrive at her work.

See me? I'm looking for Mama in this picture because she left me to go to the market.  I won't go down those BIG steps.  They are bigger than I am and very uneven.  Mama actually fell on them one day and I got really scared for her so I won't got down by myself.  She has to pick me up and carry me.  Oh.  That's Monicah in the picture too.  Love me some Monicah!  I get to stay at her house when Mama goes out of town.  She has some really nice children who play with me all the time.  I get so tired I have to go hide to get some rest!

This is Mama's boss Stephen.  He spends most of his time 'dialing for shillings' as Mama calls it.  He's trying to get people to pay their loans.  From what I hear, that is not working too well.

Here is Evans and Rose.  Evans is the accountant and Rose is a cashier.  She is gonna have a baby in August.  She already has two year old twin boys.  They are very nice too.

And here's MY Monicah again.  Love you Monicah!  She is the head cashier.  Her husband is the pastor of a very large church in town.  I haven't been there.  Mama and Monicah are the only people I talk to cause they understand what I say very well.  I usually talk to Monicah for a few minutes when I first get to work.

Mama forgot to take a picture of her office but it is very small with a desk and one chair.  I usually lie on a towel behind her desk when I'm at work or walk around and check everything out.  When people come to do business, I am very polite and don't bark or growl.  If I think they might like dogs, I will go up and give a little sniff to check them out.  Mama teaches everyone how to pet me.  They usually laugh because I know you know dogs are not pets here.  They all say I am so clean and smell so nice.  I smile at that.  Like Mama would have it any other way, duh.

We usually leave work around 1pm and stop at the butcher to get me some bones and Mama some dinner as she calls it.  Then we stroll back through town talking to everybody, sometimes going to the supermarket or visit the dudes that drive the matatus.  They all know me too and like petting me and taking pictures with me.  We chat with the Mamas that sell peanuts and fruit, the policemen that are standing along the road writing tickets and sometimes plunk down for a rest at the furniture fundi that made our furniture.  He has all his furniture out on the space in front of his shop so people can see it as they ride by.  We pick a different chair each time and so far, none are as comfy as mine.

On the road again, walking just to the edge of town to our place.  When we go through the gate at the top of the hill (Mama says that hill is a triple diamond--whatever that means) we usually stroll over to our view, plop down on a big rock and catch the breeze. My little legs are like noodles at this point and I like sniffing all the news in the breeze.  This work stuff really wears you out!

In a few steps, past the lazy cows and we're home.  I have a huge lap of water, doggie treat and zonk.  Mama has some cereal and yogurt most days cause it's too hot to fix anything else.  After I lick the bowl and spoon, I'm ready for my nap.  It was a tough day at the office!  Besides, it's almost 3pm now since we jabbered all along the route.

Nitey nite.  I'm bushed.  Hope you enjoyed my note.  Next time I'll let Mama do this.  My paw paws have blisters from all the typing.