Masai often open up a vein in a
cow's neck, drink the blood, and close it back up.
When dry times hit, and the
grazing dries up, They move the cattle into downtown Moshe, in the
moist micro climate. They have been doing this for eons, long before
Moshe, and besides, who is going to stand up and tell these warriors
no? Since they strongly believe that all the cattle, and the grazing,
in the world belong to them, they go where they wish.
Before we reached the border, a
large truck had wrecked, totally blocking the road. A large crowd of
very scary people had gathered. The bus driver just hit the ditch,
spun, backed up, over and over again, before getting around this. It
looked like an impossible thing to do, but even I knew this would not
be a good place to stop. When we hit the pavement, I yelled, "Let's
hear it for THE MAN!" He got a big hand.
An older man and woman were on
that bus. They looked like they had been out in the bush for a very
long time. I sat down beside them, and started a conversation. I just
had to know their story.
They were missionaries from
Oregon. They came to Moshe, regularly, and stay a few months at a
time. They daily travel in a 4 WD to remote Masai village, and
minister to them. Their last trip to Africa, they went to a village
where the children of the chief were sick. The witch doctor was not
able to help them.
The chief called on the
missionaries to heal them. They doctored them, to the best of their
ability, and prayed for them. When they returned to that village on
this trip, the children were well. The chief gave them, and God, all
the credit. Along with that, he gave them a large plot of land. They
were returning to America to start raising funds to build a hospital
and a church on that land. He said they had gotten malaria a
few times, but they take a shot and go on. Their African guide and
interpreter is also their African connection, and travels with them.
We have all heard stories of brave
and dedicated African missionaries. The African bush is full of many
more we have not heard of. Many self sacrificing men and women, from
many countries, are fulfilling the Great Commission. These people,
and the seven missionaries at Rafiki, and Deb, are just a few. They
are bypassing the comforts of home, family, and security, and giving
their lives to this work. It is an honor for a pretend missionary,
such as myself, to be able to know and work alongside these people,
if only for a short time.
When we got to the border, things
were just as congested as before. Barbara picked the visa line she
wanted, because it was manned by a guy who seemed relatively
friendly, and occasionally smiled. When we got up to his desk,
Barbara poured it on. Smiling, laughing, telling all about us being
missionaries, and on and on. She passed the visa over to him. He was
totally won over, and stamped our old visa, not valid now, and
smiling, said, "You have a great day." We thanked him, and
got gone quickly. Barbara just has a gift for having her way with any
man. But fortunately, she only uses it when I am at her side. At
least, I think so - - -mmmmm - -? (Just kidding, really.)
Back at the village, the rainy
season had started. It seemed to only rain at night, and that was
good. Things were greening up, and the insects, particularly the
termites, were flogging. When we came out of a cottage,
after visiting a bible study one night, termites waiting outside on
the porch just swarmed into the house by the thousands. When we
finally got away, the children were still scurrying around, gathering
them up by the hand fulls. They are welcomed by the Africans. The
termites were about the size of a wasp,and they just shucked the
wings off, fried them up, and eat them. There is little protein
available in East Africa.
When we got to the guest house,
they were also swarming about our small outside light by the
thousands. Boonie Babies were having a field day, gobbling them up. Boonie Babies are mammals, larger
than a squirrel. They have very short back legs, but can leap
extraordinarily far in the trees. They have giant eyes, the
better to see with in the dark, and often can be heard making a noise
not unlike the the cry of a baby in the African night. They're not to be seen
during the day.
There was a one inch gap (Just big
enough for a Black Mamba to slide through, I had always thought) at
the bottom of the door, and when we went inside and turned on the
light, they came under by the hundreds. We quickly retreated to our
room, with a tighter door, and cut off their pursuit. The next morning,
thousands lay on the floor of the guest house. Continued
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