At 9am on Saturday morning we loaded up the Suzuki with boxes of food, a jeri can of diesel, one of gasoline and another of water. All are scarce in the bush. Laura, daughter Naiboku who was out of school for the week and myself headed out. We hoped to be across the Milgus River before dark. It had rained heavily in the Mt Kenya area and we had gotten stories of muddy roads and a fast running river. Hopefully we would have a sunny day and the river would have dried enough in the heat of the day so the river crossing would be a snap.
Three hours down the road and we got a flat. You always travel with a real spare here so Laura jacked the baby up and I removed the lug nuts. We had that puppy changed in about 15 minutes and were on our way. But now we had no spare so we had to stop in the next village. It was about an hour out and is truly a half horse town. It had a couple of dukas (shops) and a piki-piki stand (delivery motorbikes). Laura had had the same incident there before so she knew who to call. We stopped at the piki-piki stand and asked them where the tire dude was. In about ten minutes he showed up and we drove to his house to have him fix it. He lays the tire on the ground and proceeds to wrest the tire from the wheel casing with a three foot piece of steel fashioned like a crow bar that he beat with a rock. It took a while but he got it separated and with a small pan of water soon located the hole. He proceeded to patch it and then put the tube back in the tire. Now we needed air so the piki-piki driver loaned us his tire pump. We inflated the tire and within minutes it was flat again. Must be another leak, huh? Back to wedging the tire apart and finding the next leak. But now the piki-piki driver had a delivery call and had to leave--with his pump! After all he might need it himself.
We found the other hole, patched it but had no air. So we headed off to the local Catholic Church. In Africa, churches have everything and they share. The priest was conducting a wedding so we settled in under a tree in his front yard and waited. A while later he comes out leading the procession to the parsonage for the reception. He dashed inside to get his pump for us. We inflated the tire and it went flat again. After fixing the third hole the tire finally held air and we were once again on our way. This whole exercise cost us three hours of drive time. Gonna be close crossing the river now.
This is the road. Pretty slow going even in a 4x4. At best you can cruise at 5-15 mph dodging car eating holes and mudslide craters. With all that fuel on board we didnt want to risk a spark from a thrown up rock. Our route is around the mountains and through the woods. Along the way are people dotting the path trying to hitch a ride carrying containers to find water or asking for food. As it was getting late in the day and with the river ahead, we picked up a Samburu man heading in our direction. We figured we might need his help if we got stuck in the river. Around 5pm we rounded the overlook to get a glimpse of the river.
We're really gonna drive across that! We were still another 40minutes minimum to the crossing and after a long discussion I insisted we call it a day and cross in the daylight. It would certainly be dark by the time we got to the Milgus and then we had to walk it before we could drive it to find any lurking sinkholes.
Laura said she knew someone who used to have a house in the area and he would put us up for the night. We drove in search of his place. By the way, there are no road signs or streets signs remember. By the time we found his place it was pitch dark. When we drove into his compound there was a rather large Samburu family squatting on his land. He had been gone for several years they said and his house was locked up and abandoned. We considered driving back down the road to a school and asking for a bed in their dorm but it was closed and locked for the week. One of the Samburu women said she lived nearby and had room for us to stay at her house. Laura walked with her back up the hill and reported back to me that it would do for the night.
We drove to her compound and she had two houses. One she lived in with her twin granddaughters and the other was occupied by her son and his wife with two children. There was a flurry of activity as they prepared her house for guests while we waited in the car. It was black dark and the wind was raging like a hurricane was coming. I thought the roof was going to go flying like in the Wizard of Oz!
About an hour later she invited us inside. There were two baby goats tied to the side of a tiny hallway which led to the bedroom where we found two cozy beds. She had borrowed blankets and mosquito nets for each bed and a kerosene lantern lit the wee space. The dirt floor had been swept clean of goat poop but she said they would have to stay with us there as they were just a week old.
Mama outside our shared house in the morning.
My bed. Sacks from previously donated grain were nailed to the sticks of the walls.
We were tired, hungry and grateful to be inside. We unloaded our food boxes and shared with her family our tomatoes, carrots and pasta (which she prepared) and were asleep by 9:30 as the wind continued to howl. Mama woke us at 6am with a pot of tea and we reloaded and headed toward the river scratching like a couple of dogs from all the flea bites on our arms and legs.
When we got there the sun had already dried alot of the area turning it into large sections that looked liked chocolate curls.
But there was still quite a bit of water. Do you see the road on the other side? A few seconds after this shot, the Samburu man sank to his neck in a muddy sinkhole. It took us an hour to walk the river to find the best route and about 10 minutes to get across. It was a knuckle wrenching ride. And we were off again.
Two hours later we had another flat tire. We stopped at the next village and while we got some lunch had it fixed. Im sure the process was the same but this time the guy had his own pump. This setback meant we would need to spend another night on the road but fortunately we were near a decent campsite in South Horr where we checked in for the night. We were all disgustingly muddy and stinky so the outdoor cold showers actually felt great in the steamy afternoon. Laura's husband, Reuben, met us there as he was enroute back to Maralel. We had a nice dinner of roast goat, rice, chapati and cold sodas before heading to bed.
Due to the water crisis in Kenya it is not uncommon to find this sign in the toilet or the message actively practiced at homes everywhere.
In the morning we swapped vehicles with Reuben. I was not sad to give him his Suzuki before it put me in traction and we got Laura's Land Cruiser. Woohoo! What a nice ride.
We arrived in Ngurunet "the bush" around 4pm. Welcome to the desert. It is a one horse town where Laura knows everyone. Her husband is Samburu and this is his family nest. We greeted everyone along the way to her house as she asked the women to spread the word that we would have a meeting in the morning of the various groups that her organization supervises. Boy was it hot!! Im guessing at least 95 in what little shade you can get from an Acacia tree. But Im loving the heat. Just like DC in August. We passed the local government office where there were long lines of people waiting for a US AID food delivery truck that was rumored to be there soon to deliver sacks of maze. Everyone was carrying a jeri can in search of water or hopes of getting it filled at a local spring. And they were all smiling, happy and welcoming. Laura remarked that many of the women seemed thinner than her last visit--due to the drought and lack of food. Nearly naked children ran and teased their herd of goats and camels as they led them in search of sustenance across the sandy, dusty, deserted open areas.
We drove into Laura's compound where there is her family house and behind it a guest house that will be my home when there. She has solar electricity but no water. Her maid had gathered three cans of water for us when she heard we were on our way that would last us for our three days there.
My house was simply furnished with a small living room area sofa and chair, galley kitchen with gas stove top, small bedroom with double bed and outdoor patio. No water or power. The shower room and choo were outside nearby. Cozy and neat and the maid had cleaned the day before. After unpacking I headed for a bucket bath in the shower room. Cold water never felt so good splashing all over my dusty bones!
We fixed a light dinner and I headed back to my house to read by the lantern for a bit. Whoosh. Whoosh. A bird is flying around me. Wait! Another one. And then a third one. I watch to see how they got inside and realize they were coming in from the bedroom. They settled down in there so I kept reading for a while and then decided it was time for bed. I tried to find them but didnt see them so ducked under my mosquito net, tucked it tight and settled in for a steamy night. Then I hear a fluttering under my bed. Its the kind that has the springs on the bottom and you lay your mattress on top. Seems I had disturbed the buggers when I moved in the bed. They began to dive bomb my net. I got my flashlight that is always beside my pillow and holy shit--it's bats!! They were hanging from the bedsprings for the night. For the rest of the night when I moved they got pissed. I finally got to sleep in the wee hours and when I awoke they were gone. But, bat poop was everywhere. I surveyed the house to see how they were finding entrance. There is a space between the roof and the walls that had once been screened but now was just holy mesh and the window screening was full of gaping holes. Aha! I swept out the poop and marched off to ask Laura about my night visitors.
That question generated a laughing response. "I've tried to get rid of them but they keep coming back. Grover (previous volunteer) didn't mind them--he even made them his pets." My reply "Good for Grover but I dont do bats." I insisted that on our next trip we would be bringing screens and wire mesh to close all the open areas or that would be my last trip to the bush. I reminded her that Peace Corps doesn't do bats either.
The next morning we headed off to our meetings. First stop was the basket weaving group. There are 256 Samburu women in this co-op who have been together 5 years. They weave baskets from tree fronds and decorate them with strung beads. They had a display at this years Smithsonian Folk Festival demonstrating their skill and selling their wares. Over the past several months there has been considerable discord in the group over being able to sell their creations locally outside the group, the price of baskets they ship and women not paying dues. We addressed all these issues with the two co-managers before the meeting which took place under several acacia trees in a sandy, dried up river bed. About 80 women attended. Lillian (one of the managers) is quite an orator. She succinctly addressed each issue with the group and followed my suggestion to get a vote on each issue. Afterward all the women filed back to the basket house to collect payment for what had been sold in DC. They were very welcoming to me and accepted my suggestions readily. I told them I would be back in a month to check on their progress. We also scheduled a meeting with the managers for the next morning as a follow up and to give them some new direction and focus. Time for some new rules and consequences.
Next stop was the honey processing house. It is a small concrete facility constructed last year and housing new equipment to process raw honey for packaging and sale. Ten women have received training and yet the equipment was still boxed and not one jar of honey has been prepared. There were lots of excuses which had no merit. As we conducted our meeting, several men from another processing group were listening at the windows. I laid out some new rules and when I mentioned the one where they needed to produce within the next 30 days or we would rent the house and equipment to the men--boy did that get everyone's attention. The men cheered and accosted us with questions when we were leaving. We'll see how they do.
Final stop of the day was to a campground that has been in operation for 3 years. It is a very nice facility with six bandas (thatched roof huts) for guests, an outdoor kitchen and reception area. It has lots of potential but nothing is happening. I met with the manager and we walked the property and he made a to-do list based on my comments. Everything I suggested could be done with no cash required. He was given his 30 day put up notice and we headed home.
It was late in the afternoon and we were hot, tired and hungry. We would not meet with the camel rearing groups this trip because they were in training sessions with their main donor Heifer Intl.
The next morning we met with the basket ladies to establish an agreed list of responsibilities, pay and marketing strategies so they would have a higher probability of success in the next month. I finally felt like I was making a contribution. I will be curious to see what sticks.
After the meeting we loaded up the car to head to Nairobi. We decided to take a different route so we would not have to cross the river again and be delayed. Naiboku had a dental appointment Friday morning and I needed to do some shopping at Nakumatt (the Costco of Kenya). We stayed overnight in Nanyuki with a friend of Laura's, Tene. She is Belgian with two kids and has been in Kenya for six years. She just started her own consulting firm and wanted to pick my brain. She has a lovely house in a private compound outside of town. Her father had worked many years in Kenya, now retired, and they own a large tract of land where they are building two homes for themselves and Tene in Nanyuki.
Thursday around 2 we arrived in Nairobi uneventfully. Laura and Naiboku were staying with friends and I decided to have an upscale couple of days at a very nice hotel. Peace Corps may require we live like the locals but time off is a different story! I had a glorious time getting a haircut, mani, pedi and eating some awesome food. I also cruised the Nakumatt aisles planning my purchases and deciding about which fridge would fit in the car upright for the trip back to Maralel.
Sunday morning we proceeded with our shopping. I was crushed when the fridge I wanted would not fit in the car and had to do a plan B. Being able to now buy cheese, butter, mayo and bread to put in my little bugger made up for the disappointment. We were loaded to the gills when we headed out for home.
We were planning a stop to take Laura's son from his boarding school for an overnight in Nyeri and stay in Nanyuki again with Tene. We didn't make it. In Nyeri it was raining donkeys and as it was late in the afternoon, we knew we would not make it before dark. ( I wont travel at night on those crappy roads!) Laura called a friend that had some cabins to rent in Nyeri and luckily she had one free. The road to the cabins is about two miles off the main road through the woods and she said it was a mud pit. You guessed right! We got stuck about 500 feet down the road. Leslie and Jonathan rescued us in their trusty old Subaru wagon with tractor tires. Leslie drove Laura's truck because Laura was freaked out by the mud.
What an oasis. Jonathan had built the perfect getaway and Leslie had stocked it to the nines. Even the firepit was ready to be lit.
Laura's kids Naiboku and Loiwitte outside our cabin.
The next morning we had to wait for the road to dry out before attempting an exit. So we managed to leave around noon. That was after spending an hour trying to start the car. Seems Leslie had left the parking lights on and the battery was dead. We couldn't even jump it with cables so had to push that heavy behemoth so she could pop the clutch in 2nd gear. Voila! Laura had to take Loiwitte back to school so I met Tene for lunch at a charming garden restaurant in Nanyuki for their Sunday Indian brunch. It was packed with local muzungus, mainly British Army families since there is a base there. Laura was late returning to Nanyuki (as usual) so we imposed on Tene to stay at her house.
The last leg of the trip was smooth. Through the bush dodging families of elephants, zebras and giraffes that were wondering why we were driving through their grazing lands.
This is a reticulated giraffe that is only seen in northern Kenya. It is darker in color and has very distinct patchwork patterns.
So now Im home! All my goodies are safe in my well stocked fridge. It even made ice in the tiny freezer compartment. I was so excited I wanted to lick the cubes. I didn't. I put them in freezer bags to serve to my guests this weekend. Father Jorge came over to welcome me home with a big hug (maybe I am charming him!). I even used my new iron today to burn away any hibernating fruit flies on my clean clothes. I did forget to remove the plastic covering though and fried that sucker on the iron. I had to spend 30 minutes scraping it off before proceeding. I know. Dumb ass, right?
