Africa! Part Three

     The children of the missionaries, once they were too old for the school at Rafiki, were driven across Nairobi each day to an International School. The UN presence in Nairobi was second only to

America, and children from all countries went there.

     The far side of Nairobi was a modern, nice city. On our side, it was totally different. Like two entirely different worlds side by side.

      Barbara and I were each assigned a different table to eat at each meal, so that we eventually ate with all the children. They loved it. They soon learned to read the schedule, and we were always greeted upon walking in by, "Uncle Pat! You're eating at our table today!"

     These children ate what other Africans ate. They were being raised as Africans. Beans, peas, and  lentils most commonly, or whatever a farmer had donated, or Rafiki had raised. Ugali served as a filler. It consisted of corn flour and water, boiled. No seasoning or anything. Ugali was shaped into a cake and sliced. Maybe a Passion fruit for desert, some sort of meat maybe once a week.

     By American standards, it was just, well, bad. But everybody ate every bite that was on their plate, every time. Including us. I once saw a very interesting thing take place. Barbara was about to eat the last bite of food on her plate. It was a chunk of ugali. The children at her table were all watching her, as always. As she approached her mouth with the bite, a grimace like I have never seen on her face appeared. As she put it in her mouth, a gag was coming up as the food went down. But she kept it down, and soon brought out a smile for the children.

     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 manservants, who had worked there all their lives. "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 circumsized. My throwing arm suddenly felt very weak as I looked at it. African males are traditionally circumsized as a young boy. I saw a post by Carolyn Koepke a few days ago on facebook. Twenty of the young men were circumsized 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.  CONTINUED NEXT WEEKEND  Thanks for reading!