A Run in With the Police and A Poem

Sunday morning started early as I intended to keep my promise about attending church. Moses picked me up and led me on a five minute walk to a large, one room tin building. The outside was painted blue with the words "Brooks Faith Restoration Center" printed along the side. Inside were 30 children ages 2-16 listening to a very tall man dinging a call-and-response song in Kiswahili. I sat in the back to try and not draw too much attention from the service, but 60 little eyes stared at me unabashed until Pastor Margaret took the stage. She started a loud Swahili song that got all the children clapping and dancing, and it was clear that everyone enjoyed themselves even if the only word I could understand was "Mungu" or God. After another song, offering was collected and each of the children received a small pack of shortbread cookies. It was very touching to see kids, who I'm sure have very little in the way of luxeries as we think, dropping 10 or 20Ksh in the woven offering basket. The children's service only lasted for a half an hour or so, and then the adults started filing in. I realized that the speakers and keyboards present in the church were the same ones that live in cardboard boxes in our room during the week, but I don't know how the people living in tiny tin apartments felt about the songs being blasted from 5 feet away. Eventually a crowd of 20 or so men and women (and a few leftover kids) showed up and the sermon on servanthood began. The male pastor made an effort to switch between English and Swahili, so I uunderstood about half of the message on discipline and integrity and love. A question was also asked from the congregation about whether Judas went to heaven or hell when he died. I'm sure it's a topic that theologists would enjoy debating, but I couldn't understand any of the arguments. Finally, Margaret called me up in front of everyone to announce that I was a volunteer and have me say hi to everyone before I left for lunch. It was a little embarrassing and I had no testimony to add for them, but they were very welcoming. I walked the short distance back accompanied by two young girls who wanted to hold me hand, and had a lunch of leftovers before heading out to the Maasai market at the YaYa center. Margaret had told me to take a matatu to Nakumatt Prestige and then walk down the side street, so I paid my 30Ksh and settled in for a while because the traffic was so bad. Unfortunately, the driver or condutor of the matatu was not on good terms with the police here. The conductor had gotten out once before when we saw a motorcycle cop, but the second time he was spied by two cops and they ran up to the matatu and took the keys. Instead of settling the matter with the driver (writing a ticket or collecting a bribe as is to be expected), the just walked away leaving all 15 of us passengers stranded. Of course theconductor disappered with the money and the driver chased after the cops, so we were left to walk without our money a little before Junction. I suppose I could've have caught another matatu, but I was too mad to pay twice, so I walked the 40 or so minutes along Ngong road until I reached Prestige. It was actual fairly pleasant with trees shading the way and an actual sidewalk of sorts, and everyone who I asked for directions gave them to me with a smile. The marketplace itself was a little hectic with all the vendors grabbing your arm and trying to direct you to their little blanket with all their paintings and carvings and jewelry and fabrics displayed. I ignored most people and walked to the back where things are supposedly cheaper and found a few things I had been looking for. While I hate haggling, the prices were pretty good and I walked a way fairly satisfied. On the way back, there was a young boy hanging around outside begging the tourists, but it was only third time I'd been asked for money in the five weeks I've been here. I took a realtively uncrowded matatu back, but around Junction again the traffic was ridiculous. One side of the roundabout was closed for constuction, so both sides of traffic were cramming themselves into two and a half lanes. Of course, there were no signs of the cops directing traffic (that would actual benefit people and they couldn't force any bribe money out of people), so the conductors of the buses and matatus got out and instructed their vehicles how to sueeze through the mess. I have to say that most of the time the drivers are insane and dangerous, but they know the exact size of their van to the millimeter. Melissa came back from her safari and said she had a great time (and saw a rhino, lucky). Dinner was beans and I went to bed early because I had to be ready for my last day of school.

I went with Melissa to the LocalAid office in the monring to get the string I needed to make my last two necklaces, but Josephine wasn't there yet. Melissa said she'd grab it for me though, and I headed down past the butchery and fruit stands to the Glad Kids school. Everyone was already seated in class by the time I got there, and the headmaster came out to greet me. I was with the older kids again and they were sure full of energy and not wanting to do work on a Monday. The next lesson was supposed to be multiplication and division of currency, but they threw a small mutiny ("I forgot my notebook" and "Can I go to the toilet five times in 30 minutes") until I threatened to get the headmaster. Finally they settled down enough for me to do a few example probelms before porridge break, and I let them go willingly. I am not cut out to be a teacher, that's for sure. During the break I gave them the last frisbee and we played five-hundred for a bit. I took a video, and trust me, it's hilarious. One of the boys did have a nice flick though. After porridge and before lunch I just let them play hangman. I tried to make rules that the words had to be at least 5 letters long and had to be in English, but in the end I was just concerned with keeping them sitting and not shouting. The break let them get rid of some of their energy though, and I chalked it up to a case of the Mondays. Lunch was green grams, cabbage, and rice, and when all the kids came back, they had a surprise for me. All the kids (even the baby class) lined up in two rows and sang songs and recited poems for me. One of the poems was written especially for me and talked about the ball I bought for them and how they wanted me to remember them in America. It was very touching, especially when the teachers came up and said a few words saying that I was like their "first born" since I was the first volunteer there. At the end, the headmaster had one of the girls present me with a colorful kanga to give to my mother when I get back. I took pictures of everyone and with everyone, and then everyone said goodbye. Despite their antics, they really are a good group of kids and I hope the website I'm making will help them get sponsors to further their education. I asked Elsoy how much a good boarding school cost and she said about 7,500Ksh a term which comes out to $300 a year. I saw Josephine coming out of the internet cafe when I got there (the internet was not working) and we walked a ways together. She told me the great news that they'd gotten preliminary approval to receive the testing kits, and the lady was coming to inspect the office tomorrow to make sure all the required signs were posted. For the rest of the afternoon I made my last two necklaces and gave them to Margaret and Maggie. I also started reading Out of Africa by Karen Blixen because it specifically deals with the area of Kenya that I am in 80 years or so ago. Grey's Anatomy was on TV, as well as Storm Over Paradise, and we sat around until almost 11pm watching our guilty pleasures. Today I took Josephine, Elsoy, and Melissa to lunch at Nairobi Java House, but I'll have to write about it later as the internet cafe I'm at is a lot more expensive than the one I usually go to. Three more days and then 24 hours of planes and airports and I'm back home. I can't wait to see everyone!