We soon learned that if the table
"Mama" spooned our food, she would "do us a favor"
by piling it high. We also soon learned, get there early enough, and
"fill" our own plate. However, Yeen Lan took into
consideration our spoiled palate, and two or three days a week, she
had our maid fix up a really good, more American dish, at our guest
house, and had it waiting when we came from a meal. On those days, we
ate two meals, back to back. But, we both lost weight. Since
returning home, we have both lost weight when necessary by going back
to our African roots to eat.
One day at lunch, a child was
pointing out the green peppers in our soup. He directed us, "Don't
eat that. It's bad." Unfortunately, his "Mama"
overheard him. "Young man, there is no bad food here! People are
starving to death, right outside those gates, right now! You eat
every bite, and thank God for it!" He did, and we did too.
That Saturday, Yeen Lan scheduled
a trip to a tea farm for us. It was owned by white Africans, whose
family had been in Africa for generations, dating back to Colonial
Days. When we began to see the tea fields, they were beautiful. They
looked just like a perfectly manicured lawn, three feet tall, very
thick, stretching over the rolling hills to the horizon. The
gatherers moved through the tea, and placed a small stick on top of
the tea, three or so feet long. Any leaf above the stick was picked.
The farmhouse was beautiful,
straight from "Out of Africa", acres of beautiful flowers
surrounded it. Our driver waited in the car. Tea with Fiona awaited.
As we had tea and refreshments, she explained all about tea and tea
farming. We would normally be in a large group of tourists, but no
tourists were in Kenya now, the bloodshed was too fresh. We had Fiona
to ourselves.
The entire meal was totally grown
on the farm, including the cow who gave milk for the ice cream. And
it was to die for. The meal was totally presided over by two
man servants, who had worked there all their life. "Out of
Africa" again. They attended to every need.
A tribesman, giving us a tour of
the farm, showed us a tree about as high as a house. It was protected
by tribal law, a sacred tree. When a young man was strong enough to
throw a chunk over that tree, he was ready to be circumcised. My
throwing arm suddenly felt very weak as I looked at it. African males
are traditionally circumcised as a young boy. I saw a post by Carolyn
Koepke a few days ago on face book. Twenty of the young men were
circumcised in one day. Remember, they are being raised as Africans.
On the way back to Rafiki, our
driver told us, "Because of the violence, the food crop is very
reduced. Starting next month, many Africans will be starving."
We didn't know what to say - -
and we had just attended a fancy tea.
Sunday, Barbara photographed each
family in their Sunday best, as they went to the bus to go to church.
We went with one of the "Mama's" group. We were dropped off
by the bus in a middle class neighborhood, and walked the rough,
rocky street with hundreds of Africans and a lot of goats. Butchered
goats hung in the store windows.
Children screamed and ran when
they saw us. We were the only white faces on the street and in the
church. Mothers apologized as their children screamed and ran,
saying, "My children have never seen a white person before. Barbara was determined to win over
a particularly frightened little girl. The little girl screamed at
the sight of Barbara, burying her face in her mother's shoulder.
Barbara approached her, smiling, and finally the little girl accepted
that without crying. Finally, Barbara was allowed to touch her hand.
After awhile, Barbara was allowed to walk two fingers up her arm,
softly saying, "Here's a little man, walking up your arm!"
Finally, a little sweet smile appeared on her face, and she stretched
her arms out to Barbara. The surrounding crowd laughed.
When we got inside the all concrete
church, (can't be burned) and they all started singing, "What a
mighty God we serve," We knew we would be all right. A very tall, handsome young man
was brought forward, and everyone was happy to see him. He had been
forced to leave town when the violence started. He was from the wrong
tribe, and would have died if he had stayed. Anyway, he sang a very
beautiful song with six backup singers. When Africans sing about God
bringing them through hard times they mean hard times. Barbara fought
back tears through his whole song.
The next week, Yeen Lan told us
that she was taking us on a special trip, personally. I figured out
later, that a little statement I had made to the school Headmaster
must have gotten back to her. Early on, I just mentioned to him that
it seemed like these kids were closed off from the world. Well, I think she got it in her
head that she would show us where most of these kids came from. Where
they would have lived out their life, which might not have lasted
long, if not for Rafiki. She said "We're going to Kibera".
Other missionaries were shocked when they heard. They had driven by,
but had never ventured inside Kibera. Some had just always heard that
if a stranger went into the depths of Kibera, he might never surface
again.
Kibera is one of the two largest,
and worst, slums in the world.
No comments:
Post a Comment