Bingo in Bondo with Bongos!

GoodNESS! It’s been two weeks since my last post! I’m sorry for the delay. Things have been moving and hustling over in these parts.

Points of Interest:

1)      The teacher’s strike is over. All the kids at Street Children finally went back to school! Out of the 118 kids there, only 15 didn’t make it to school this year. That’s OK, though! Some still need to be rehabilitated and take a few tutoring sessions.

2)      The nurses have started their strike! Yay! This was apparently a big year for union deals with the government. They want a raise, and they want fewer hours. Who doesn’t?

3)      It’s starting to get hot. Average temperature is up, up, and away. Gets down to the 50s and 60s at night, but spikes around 90 at midday.

4)      I got my first fungal infection ever, and it’s one that I didn’t even need to go to Africa for! I could have just wrestled in high school. Anyways, I got ringworm, and I’m basically putting straight acid on it. They call it Whitfield’s ointment. Supposedly, it’s the best.

Anyways, let’s give a quick summary of events.

Week of 9/24

We sent the kids to school on a variety of busses and matatus as far as 400 kilometers away that week. Sad to see them go, but happy that they’re gone gettin’ edumacated. I picked up a little more time at St. Maurus. I’m hoping to start seeing them more and more. This upcoming week, I don’t have work at St. Benedict’s, so I’ll get to go a few times. Street Children is working on a shamba or a garden. They have sikumawiki(lettuce), passion fruits, and all sorts of other stuff growing there.

The end of the week was the best, though. On Saturday, the girls came to visit from Karen, and we went out to the club! We had a group of 12 people go. It was ridiculous. Too many people to keep track of, but they all got back home in the end. And that’s what matters! It was good to hang out with my American friends even if one got food poisoning. They went back on Sunday, and I went back to the flat. I think I took a nap. Maybe watched a movie or something.

Week of 10/1

What a good week! Continued to get good hours at St. Maurus, and I taught my drawing class a bunch of national flags. I must have repeated the American flag a hundred times. They couldn’t get enough of it! On Thursday, Henry and I went to St. Maurus early in the morning. We got to be present for a few physical therapy sessions for the physically handicapped at the center. It was a real sight to see. I’ve had to do some physical therapy in the past, and I’ve help a few others do it as well. The stuff they have here, though, is so rudimentary. For a lot of the kids, they strap them down to a table that stands up to help them strengthen their leg muscles. It’s possible that it could work eventually, but they only do it once, maybe twice a week. Most of these kids need daily attention. Everything they do there is simply maintenance. I can’t fix the world, however, so I just do what I can to help. Sometimes that’s helping hold the kids down, or just playing football(soccer) out in street. I don’t know if anyone has played soccer with these kids in years.

On Friday, I went to St. Benedict’s in the morning, but I took the afternoon off because I knew I was going to have a long weekend. At 9pm Friday night, Tim, Mike, Henry, Dan(not the pirate), Vinny, Augus, and myself boarded a bus. It was a small bus, and one of the most uncomfortable experiences of my life. They seated three to the right, and two to the left. We pulled out of the station around 10:15, and began the 8 hour journey to Bondo, home of Dan the Pirate, Elder of the Luo. I wish we could have been traveling in the day so I could have seen what was around me better. The moon was fairly bright, and I could see mountains off in the distance. We arrived in “downtown” Bondo around 6:30am after which we took a cab the last 20 minutes, away from civilization and into the rolling hills of the “bush”. Dan the Pirate was there waiting for us as we approached.

The occasion was the reburial of his mother. I’m not quite sure if it was his blood mother though. From what I gathered they don’t put a whole lot of stock in direct lineage. If you’re part of the tribe then you are a son/daughter to everyone in the generation above you and a father/mother to everyone below. Dan explained to me that they have no words for Aunt and Uncle in the tribal tongue of Luo. Luo is the third largest of 47 tribes in Kenya. They can be classified into three different kinds. One of the kinds is Bantu, based in Sudan they have an Arabic background. The other two I can’t remember the names of, but one comes out of central Africa and the other from Germanic tribes from which arose the Luo. Dan is between the ages of 35 and 39. No one can confirm his birth date, and he has heard many different possibilities. He is the youngest of 17, and the youngest of 5 of his blood mother. His older brother runs the farm. They have goats, cattle, and a slew of different crops. He is an Elder of the tribe because, although his young, he is from a specific generation that allows him special privileges. For instance, he never has to prepare his own food. People just bring it to him. It’s pretty cool.

The ceremony itself was very short. This guy played a funny instrument, and everyone sat around. I think in the past they actually dug up the body, and then they would put it back in. Apparently, western influence knows no bounds. Regardless, the party afterwards is what is ridiculous. It is hours and hours and hours aaaaand hours. We started at noon and went until 3am. Tons of alcohol. Almost all of it was home brewed. They had millet based beer and local vodka that seemed a relative of the moonshine from the Dukes of Hazzard. I thought I might go blind. The only thing that compared to that was the slaughtering of the goats. Let me say this clearly, none of the goat is wasted. Not one bit. I was all but forced to try this dish called ajuri. It is basically the stomach cut up into little pieces, and then they were mixed in with a “green sauce” from the… lower intestine, and then it was further mixed with about a liter of its blood. I tried it. Tasted good. Don’t think I’ll go back.

They turned on the speakers at 9 and they were on until three. I spent most of my time hanging out by the campfire. There is nothing like sitting by a fire and looking up in the night and seeing millions of stars. Not to mention a beer in my right hand.  Lots of time to think out in the wilderness.

We got up on Sunday morning and had a late breakfast. We took two motorcycles, one tuk-tuk, and a matatu and went to Kisumu. It’s the third largest city in Kenya under Mombasa and Nairobi. It’s right on Lake Victoria. It’s a beautiful city, and the parts not next to the water are surrounded by large hills with massive boulders on top. Pretty cool. We ate some fish and chicken outside the bus station. Then we boarded the night bus back to Nairobi. This bus was more comfortable in nature. Only two to the right and left.  We dropped into Nairobi at 4:30 in the morning, and I was in bed by 5:30.

Kenya is very interesting. Sitting by the fire in the middle of nowhere under endless stars is a pretty good place to ponder that thought. My first thought was of my friend Danny back home. Getting married in November. Wish I could go. Started thinking about other friends and family. Thought about skyping my Mom the other day, and I realized I had a ridiculous trash ‘stache going when I did that haha! I’ve never been homesick, so I don’t know what it feels like. I thought maybe I was getting homesick! I’ve seen homesickness before though, and I don’t think I have the symptoms. I think it’s just a realization that I’ve spent a lot time garnering investment in myself from a lot of other people. Well I suppose it goes both ways! It seems I’ve invested myself in so many people that I just have a lot of thoughts about how everyone’s doing! I got friends raising kids, getting married, graduating college/high school, and so much more. In Kenya, those basic activities all happen but under such duress. There are so many generations of people that have grown up in Mathare that they don’t even know what to do with themselves! Most of the teenagers sit around in alleys drinking illegal booze, smoking cigarettes, and when they go home they have sex with everyone they can. They live in squalor and disease, and there isn’t much to change them. Everyone here is bound by two masters: Catholicism and their tribal culture. It’s almost impossible to appease both. So most give up and forsake them both. There’s corruption everywhere, and even the people who say they want to help just take the rug out. St. Benedict’s primary school was given enough money to build a 3 story and a 4 stream school. It is now a one story school with 1 stream. Now the school struggles to hire enough good teachers and field enough students.

I’m not sure what to make of it all. I know that all seems a little negative, but it’s just a learning thing. I’m still trying to fit in here. I’m different from Henry, Tim , and Mike as of course all people are, but somehow I’m missing some sort of connecting membrane with them. We play cribbage and go get beers in the evening, and we talk about movies and past experiences at meal times. I’m just not quite sure that I am on the same page as they are. Something is off. So, I’m left here with my thoughts, my movies, and my fantasy football team. Still just trying to make sense of it all. I’m left with the song by David Cook called “Come Back to Me”. In the song there is a line that goes, “When you find you, come back to me.” For some reason that line and that song have always plucked at the strings of my soul. Is it because subliminally someone is calling me back? Do I want someone to call me back? Is there a friend? Or a girl? Or maybe God? I don’t know. There’s a realm of questioning around my brain. I want the answer, but how can I find the answer without a question? I could so easily say the answer is 42 or blue! I don’t know! What do I even look for? Where do I begin?

I figured out how to put some books on my computer, so I’m staying educated! I’m following the presidential debates even though they don’t hold a candle to Lincoln-Douglas. Where are all the good speakers who also have great ideas? Seems we only get one or the other. Leaders with no direction. Thinkers with no guts. And then I go to St. Maurus to see kids who can barely talk or even move sometimes, and they just want to come up next to me. They put their faces on my arm and close their eyes while forming a smile with their lips. They’ll sit like that for an hour if I let them. Doc Holliday said, “Apparently, my hyposcrisy knows no bounds.” It’s a great line. A man haunted by evil motives always found solace in his friend and as he stuck by his friend he gets lucky enough to find reconciliation in the end. All my mental, spiritual, and physical failings haunt my waking day, but even so I still get to be a part of making one person’s life better or if even not that maybe just… maintainable.

I guess this is just a dumping ground for thoughts. I’ve figured out that blogs are pretty good for that. All I know is that my actions are being directed by a higher power. I’m doing my best to continue allowing that to occur. Maybe down the road it’ll pay off for myself or someone else. I’ll leave you with a quote from Venerable Solanus Casey. He was a simplex priest of the Capuchin Order. Friggin’ great guy:

“God condescends to use our powers if we don’t spoil His plans by ours.”

Think about it!