Turns out life in Nairobi is not completely bereft of interesting events. Today, Stephen and I were out buying building materials with all the abandon that comes from spending someone elses money. On our way back to SIM HQ in the car we were stuck in traffic when Stephen said:
"The police have been spraying tear gas...I can smell it"
I couldn't smell anything other than car fumes and gave him a dubious look, suspecting he was talking nonsense. However, not five minutes later my throat was stinging and tears were streaming down my face (and no, i wasn't just having an emotional moment). I turned to look at Stephen and he was the same, if not worse than me. It was a deeply unpleasant and painful experience which I have no desire to repeat. So that rules out rioting anarchist as a future career move...
There have been more changes in the ever unpredictable world of SIM Sudan, and I am now potentially leaving Nairobi on Monday to make my (roundabout) way to Malakal to purchase more supplies (Timber, in case you're interested). Should be an adventure...certainly beats kicking about an appartment in Nairobi playing games on Sporcle...or does it?
Thursday, 3 June 2010
Wednesday, 26 May 2010
Goodbye Doro...
According to 'Blogger', it has been a frankly unacceptable two weeks since I last wrote. You can generally take it as read that if there is a long period of silence things have been either boring or bad. If they are boring I wouldn't want to trouble you with them (I'm all to aware of the risks of just writing whatever comes in to your mind and publishing it on the world wide web...I don't want to be that guy). If they are bad, well, then I wouldn't tell you about them here.
The Canadian team who are with us are now drawing to the close of their time after two weeks of sterling work. They leave on Friday. Unfortunately, so do I. I have been summoned to Nairobi to work there for a couple of weeks. I'm so excited I think I might explode. It says in Philippians 2:14 to do "all things without grumbling or questioning". Sometimes this is easier than others...
One of the guys on the Canada team is a bit trigger happy with his camera, and so I have stolen all of his photos. This is good because I am anything but trigger happy with my camera...and am desperate to get hold of any good photos I can find. For instance, he took this one of our compound at night, which is class (if you look closely you can see my two Kenyan sidekicks in the background):
And this is me showing them around the building site and pretending to know what I'm talking about.
I'll give ten (Sudanese) Pounds to the person who comes up with the funniest caption to that photo...
In all seriousness, I am even more sad to leave Doro this time than last. My friendships with the Sudanese guys have kept me going, and I shall really miss them. They continue to provide me with good company and banter. One particular area of concern for them is my ongoing singleness, and in a culture where guys often get married at 16 this is understandable. Recently they have devoted a lot of effort to trying to find me a wife...I on the other hand, have tried to explain to them all the issues that would create for me, whilst keeping on my guard to avoid potential awkward moments.
I have also made another step in the right direction by having the chance to eat with some of them. One evening I went round to the house of some of my friends just after dark (I only recently discovered that I was allowed out after dark) and sat round the fire with them as they prepared food. Being British, I didn't want to impose myself on them and planned to leave as soon as the food was ready. This was, I'm afraid, exceptionally naive of me (as I have been told before how important it is in Sudanese culture to show hospitality to guests) and when I made to go Michael responded with a very offended sounding "you mean you don't want to eat with us?!" I made the most profuse apologies and sat with them in their tukul to enjoy a simple, but very tasty (it wasn't goat) meal with my lesson duly learned.
On a positive note, my Arabic has been steadily improving over the last month, to the point where I can almost understand whole conversations that people have. Unfortunately this uses up pretty much all of my brain power and I am pretty incapable when it come to making contributions myself. Particularly if they extend beyond saying where I am coming from and where I'm going. There's a kid in the market who I sometimes buy from who laughs at me every time I try to speak Arabic to him...
On another positive note (particularly for the Sudanese) the rain has continued to descend. Sometimes in spectacular fashion. This is important as you need rain to grow food. And here, they dont have a lot of food. The other day I heard that a neighbour (And friend) of ours had not had a proper meal in months...when you realise it is that close to home it is astounding, and more than a little uncomfortable, given that we have so much. It certainly draws passages like Matthew 6:25-26 into sharper focus...
And so it's off to Nairobi again. I doubt I'll have much to report while I'm there, buying supplies for a building project doesnt usually make for good stories in my experience. But I shall keep you posted as to what is going on. There have been times in the last week when I have wished more than anything that I wasn't here. I hope they won't be repeated...
The Canadian team who are with us are now drawing to the close of their time after two weeks of sterling work. They leave on Friday. Unfortunately, so do I. I have been summoned to Nairobi to work there for a couple of weeks. I'm so excited I think I might explode. It says in Philippians 2:14 to do "all things without grumbling or questioning". Sometimes this is easier than others...
One of the guys on the Canada team is a bit trigger happy with his camera, and so I have stolen all of his photos. This is good because I am anything but trigger happy with my camera...and am desperate to get hold of any good photos I can find. For instance, he took this one of our compound at night, which is class (if you look closely you can see my two Kenyan sidekicks in the background):
And this is me showing them around the building site and pretending to know what I'm talking about.
I'll give ten (Sudanese) Pounds to the person who comes up with the funniest caption to that photo...In all seriousness, I am even more sad to leave Doro this time than last. My friendships with the Sudanese guys have kept me going, and I shall really miss them. They continue to provide me with good company and banter. One particular area of concern for them is my ongoing singleness, and in a culture where guys often get married at 16 this is understandable. Recently they have devoted a lot of effort to trying to find me a wife...I on the other hand, have tried to explain to them all the issues that would create for me, whilst keeping on my guard to avoid potential awkward moments.
I have also made another step in the right direction by having the chance to eat with some of them. One evening I went round to the house of some of my friends just after dark (I only recently discovered that I was allowed out after dark) and sat round the fire with them as they prepared food. Being British, I didn't want to impose myself on them and planned to leave as soon as the food was ready. This was, I'm afraid, exceptionally naive of me (as I have been told before how important it is in Sudanese culture to show hospitality to guests) and when I made to go Michael responded with a very offended sounding "you mean you don't want to eat with us?!" I made the most profuse apologies and sat with them in their tukul to enjoy a simple, but very tasty (it wasn't goat) meal with my lesson duly learned.
On a positive note, my Arabic has been steadily improving over the last month, to the point where I can almost understand whole conversations that people have. Unfortunately this uses up pretty much all of my brain power and I am pretty incapable when it come to making contributions myself. Particularly if they extend beyond saying where I am coming from and where I'm going. There's a kid in the market who I sometimes buy from who laughs at me every time I try to speak Arabic to him...
On another positive note (particularly for the Sudanese) the rain has continued to descend. Sometimes in spectacular fashion. This is important as you need rain to grow food. And here, they dont have a lot of food. The other day I heard that a neighbour (And friend) of ours had not had a proper meal in months...when you realise it is that close to home it is astounding, and more than a little uncomfortable, given that we have so much. It certainly draws passages like Matthew 6:25-26 into sharper focus...
And so it's off to Nairobi again. I doubt I'll have much to report while I'm there, buying supplies for a building project doesnt usually make for good stories in my experience. But I shall keep you posted as to what is going on. There have been times in the last week when I have wished more than anything that I wasn't here. I hope they won't be repeated...
Wednesday, 12 May 2010
Rain...
Today, the rains properly came to Doro for the first time this year. It looked something like this:
Although, to be fair, the picture doesn't really capture the moment very well. The storm, and it really was a storm, wasn't without it's consequences either. One of our shower enclosures blew down (whilst someone was using it...) and one of our kitchens just about keeled over. Although thankfully it wasnt my one:
However, never one to miss out on excitement around here I boldy volunteered to help Sandy clear out the food before it collapsed properly. By the end it was starting to make concerning noises at which point Sandy, who had gone outside, shouted "Kevin, get out of there!", and I had to dive out the door (which was easier said than done, given the difficult angle). You've no idea how much I'd love to tell you that the moment I got out it collapsed to the ground but I'm afraid to say it is still standing and I look significantly less macho than I may otherwise have done. What a shame.
The arrival of the rains today is, in a way, a little ironic as I was planning to write about the cronic shortage of water around here at the moment. Just about every river is dry and we are all reliant on water from the nearby borehole. Getting water from the borehole is hard work (well, it looks hard to me - I've never actually done it) and for this reason, and because we are all pretty busy, we pay a guy with a donkey cart to do it for us. Michael, also sometimes referred to as the donkey man (which I think is a little unkind...he looks nothing like a donkey) brings water 3-4 times a week:
and fills barrells dotted around our compound:
This arrangement works well for us and for him. He gets paid a princely sum for each barrell he brings and we dont have to toil in the blistering sun for which we are ill equipped.
In other news, things have changed here somewhat since I last wrote. I now have two Kenyan sidekicks working on the building project instead of one, and a whole team of Canadians who arrived yesterday to work with me for a few weeks. The challenge now is making good use of their time.
Last Sunday, a few of us travelled to a neighbouring village (called Gasmala, in case you're interested) to attend church there. I was sitting next to the pastor, a friend of mine called James. About ten minutes in to the service James leaned over to me...
"Kevin, would you like to share the message this morning?"
"I'm sorry, what!?"
"Would you like to give the message this morning?"
"...eh, ok"
And so I had to spend the next fifteen minutes coming up with something to say. Fortunately, my Arabic is still limited (which is usually a source of real frustration for me) and so I spoke through a translator. Which made the whole thing much less daunting for some reason. It seemed to go down ok too. Although maybe that was because they didn't really understand what I said!
Finally, as you know I'm not a medical man, and as such I tend to keep my distance from the clinic that operates right next to the building site (except to occasionally steal a cup of tea and a mandazi, and to say hello to my friends who work there) however every now and then I hear about something they have had to deal with there that is impossible to ignore.
This past Sunday, a mother brought her baby to the clinic. The previous evening a drunk man had come to her house and while she was not looking, picked up the baby and dropped her. On her head. By the time she reached our clinic there was nothing they could do and the baby died a short time later. I'm told the mother was understandably devestated. I think it might be just about one of the most tragic stories I've ever heard...
Although, to be fair, the picture doesn't really capture the moment very well. The storm, and it really was a storm, wasn't without it's consequences either. One of our shower enclosures blew down (whilst someone was using it...) and one of our kitchens just about keeled over. Although thankfully it wasnt my one:
However, never one to miss out on excitement around here I boldy volunteered to help Sandy clear out the food before it collapsed properly. By the end it was starting to make concerning noises at which point Sandy, who had gone outside, shouted "Kevin, get out of there!", and I had to dive out the door (which was easier said than done, given the difficult angle). You've no idea how much I'd love to tell you that the moment I got out it collapsed to the ground but I'm afraid to say it is still standing and I look significantly less macho than I may otherwise have done. What a shame.
The arrival of the rains today is, in a way, a little ironic as I was planning to write about the cronic shortage of water around here at the moment. Just about every river is dry and we are all reliant on water from the nearby borehole. Getting water from the borehole is hard work (well, it looks hard to me - I've never actually done it) and for this reason, and because we are all pretty busy, we pay a guy with a donkey cart to do it for us. Michael, also sometimes referred to as the donkey man (which I think is a little unkind...he looks nothing like a donkey) brings water 3-4 times a week:
and fills barrells dotted around our compound:
This arrangement works well for us and for him. He gets paid a princely sum for each barrell he brings and we dont have to toil in the blistering sun for which we are ill equipped.
In other news, things have changed here somewhat since I last wrote. I now have two Kenyan sidekicks working on the building project instead of one, and a whole team of Canadians who arrived yesterday to work with me for a few weeks. The challenge now is making good use of their time.
Last Sunday, a few of us travelled to a neighbouring village (called Gasmala, in case you're interested) to attend church there. I was sitting next to the pastor, a friend of mine called James. About ten minutes in to the service James leaned over to me...
"Kevin, would you like to share the message this morning?"
"I'm sorry, what!?"
"Would you like to give the message this morning?"
"...eh, ok"
And so I had to spend the next fifteen minutes coming up with something to say. Fortunately, my Arabic is still limited (which is usually a source of real frustration for me) and so I spoke through a translator. Which made the whole thing much less daunting for some reason. It seemed to go down ok too. Although maybe that was because they didn't really understand what I said!
Finally, as you know I'm not a medical man, and as such I tend to keep my distance from the clinic that operates right next to the building site (except to occasionally steal a cup of tea and a mandazi, and to say hello to my friends who work there) however every now and then I hear about something they have had to deal with there that is impossible to ignore.
This past Sunday, a mother brought her baby to the clinic. The previous evening a drunk man had come to her house and while she was not looking, picked up the baby and dropped her. On her head. By the time she reached our clinic there was nothing they could do and the baby died a short time later. I'm told the mother was understandably devestated. I think it might be just about one of the most tragic stories I've ever heard...
Saturday, 1 May 2010
Welcome Back...
We arrived back at Doro yesterday and were greeted by this scene:
It is good to be back, and the people seem pleased to have us back, which is nice. The journey from Nairobi is spread over two legs, with an overnight stay in a place called Lokichoggio (or Loki, to seasoned tavellers) in North-Western Kenya. We made the first trip on a plane operated by Mission Aviation Fellowhip or MAF who have been flying missionaries around for over 60 years, before the journey from Loki into Sudan with our regular carrier, AIM Air (The airborne arm of African Inland Mission). Loki used to be the base for much of the aid effort in Sudan during the war, but now it's a bit of a ghost town with a nice restaurant. We spent the night in the SIM guest house:
Which is pretty decent, a kind of last dose of civilisation before the hardships of rural Sudan, before packing up our wee plane and heading for the skies over Southern Sudan. Loading the plane is a bit of a trade off between how much weight you can carry, and how much fuel you have available. We were fully loaded yesterday:
So fully loaded that we had to take some fuel off before leaving (I say we, I just watched while the AIM Air people did the hard work), which in turn led to a rather concerning low fuel alarm going off shortly before we landed at Doro. There were worried looks between us all, although noone ventured to put the obvious question to the pilot, who was otherwise engaged.
Anyway, needless to say we got here safely, and began the epic task of cleaning up the 3 and a half weeks worth of dirt that had accumulated in our houses (which equates to about a foot of dust on every flat surface). I moved a box in my house and found a massive scorpion hiding underneath. I really wish I'd taken a photo to share with you but alas, I panicked and killed it (at the third attempt).
And so we're all getting into the zone for returning to work on Monday, and being reunited with Sudanese friends, which has been great.
One of the joys of living on a base on which the primary focus is a health project is that you are frequently exposed to stomach turning medical chat. You never know what's coming next. Two minutes ago I went into the fridge to get a coke (one of the few luxuries available here) and found what looked like drugs sitting on top of everything. I turned to ask Amy, one of the nurses, what they were only to be informed that they were in fact rectal suppostories. On top of my coke.
Lovely...
It is good to be back, and the people seem pleased to have us back, which is nice. The journey from Nairobi is spread over two legs, with an overnight stay in a place called Lokichoggio (or Loki, to seasoned tavellers) in North-Western Kenya. We made the first trip on a plane operated by Mission Aviation Fellowhip or MAF who have been flying missionaries around for over 60 years, before the journey from Loki into Sudan with our regular carrier, AIM Air (The airborne arm of African Inland Mission). Loki used to be the base for much of the aid effort in Sudan during the war, but now it's a bit of a ghost town with a nice restaurant. We spent the night in the SIM guest house:
Which is pretty decent, a kind of last dose of civilisation before the hardships of rural Sudan, before packing up our wee plane and heading for the skies over Southern Sudan. Loading the plane is a bit of a trade off between how much weight you can carry, and how much fuel you have available. We were fully loaded yesterday:
So fully loaded that we had to take some fuel off before leaving (I say we, I just watched while the AIM Air people did the hard work), which in turn led to a rather concerning low fuel alarm going off shortly before we landed at Doro. There were worried looks between us all, although noone ventured to put the obvious question to the pilot, who was otherwise engaged.
Anyway, needless to say we got here safely, and began the epic task of cleaning up the 3 and a half weeks worth of dirt that had accumulated in our houses (which equates to about a foot of dust on every flat surface). I moved a box in my house and found a massive scorpion hiding underneath. I really wish I'd taken a photo to share with you but alas, I panicked and killed it (at the third attempt).
And so we're all getting into the zone for returning to work on Monday, and being reunited with Sudanese friends, which has been great.
One of the joys of living on a base on which the primary focus is a health project is that you are frequently exposed to stomach turning medical chat. You never know what's coming next. Two minutes ago I went into the fridge to get a coke (one of the few luxuries available here) and found what looked like drugs sitting on top of everything. I turned to ask Amy, one of the nurses, what they were only to be informed that they were in fact rectal suppostories. On top of my coke.
Lovely...
Tuesday, 27 April 2010
Back to Sudan
Today we recieved the long awaited news that we are to head back to Sudan this Friday. Our scheduled return had been delayed three times and so news of a definite date was welcomed with scenes of unbridled joy by all on the SIM Sudan team. Except me of course...I don't really do unbridled joy...
The in between time has been filled with a fun, but ultimately ill judged, trip to Uganda where we spent the weekend on a paradise island on Lake Victoria, swam in the water, subsequently discovered that there is a high chance we contracted Bilharzia (by all accounts an unpleasant, but very treatable, tropical disease), ate Ugandan food cooked in banana leaves, and hired motorbikes to tour round the island.
This was probably the highlight, although you may question the wisdom of hiring three motorbikes when I was the only one who knew how to ride, and I've only been riding a couple of months. We survived though, with a couple of uncomfortable moments (Amy fell off, Peter went in a ditch, and in a moment of uncertainty I nearly ended up in a bush...) and by the end we were almost competent. It was definately the best way to get around there...
So now I have around 36 hours to get everthing I need gathered together before heading back in to Doro, where life will no doubt become more interesting again. As for how long I will spend there this time, it's all a bit up in the air at the moment, but I'm trusting God that it will work out for the best. It would seem that that's the only way to approach life out here.
As ever, I shall keep you posted as and when things unfold, and will take pictures of anything interesting that befalls me to make these posts more interesting. Unless I forget my camera of course, as has been known to happen.
Over and out...
The in between time has been filled with a fun, but ultimately ill judged, trip to Uganda where we spent the weekend on a paradise island on Lake Victoria, swam in the water, subsequently discovered that there is a high chance we contracted Bilharzia (by all accounts an unpleasant, but very treatable, tropical disease), ate Ugandan food cooked in banana leaves, and hired motorbikes to tour round the island.
This was probably the highlight, although you may question the wisdom of hiring three motorbikes when I was the only one who knew how to ride, and I've only been riding a couple of months. We survived though, with a couple of uncomfortable moments (Amy fell off, Peter went in a ditch, and in a moment of uncertainty I nearly ended up in a bush...) and by the end we were almost competent. It was definately the best way to get around there...
So now I have around 36 hours to get everthing I need gathered together before heading back in to Doro, where life will no doubt become more interesting again. As for how long I will spend there this time, it's all a bit up in the air at the moment, but I'm trusting God that it will work out for the best. It would seem that that's the only way to approach life out here.
As ever, I shall keep you posted as and when things unfold, and will take pictures of anything interesting that befalls me to make these posts more interesting. Unless I forget my camera of course, as has been known to happen.
Over and out...
Tuesday, 13 April 2010
R&R...
My friends...
It has been a while, and for that I apologise. I tried to write something the other day but I suffered the bloggers (can't believe I just used that word) equivalent of writers block. Since I last spoke to you things have taken a turn for the more unpredictable. Which is saying something when you live in Sudan.
If you've been paying attention to the news (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8616249.stm), you will know that this week is a very significant week for Sudan as they are holding their first elections in a long time. For this reason (and because, when it comes down to it, it's not really any of our business), it was decided that now would be a good time for everyone at Doro to come out to Kenya for a bit of a break.
We got wind of this idea at lunchtime last Tuesday, with a plane scheduled to pick us up at lunchtime on Wednesday, this is the same plane that I told you was due to bring us a whole host of building supplies for the new clinic. As a result of this we had a rather frantic 24 hours of getting ready to leave which included plenty of packing, lots of goodbyes, a little bit of wandering around not knowing what to do and a foray into the Sudanese bush on a quadbike, (during which Maruti & I got lost, and were faced with this scene:
at one point I wondered if we were going to make it back for the plane, but we did, after a stop of at a wedding for a cup of tea), This was followed by an even more frantic hour of unloading all the building supplies off the plane before leaving. It probably doesn't sound it, but it was a lot of fun.
And so, I was reunited with Peter (the guy in the backround of my profile picture, who is working with SIM at nearby Yabus), and the rest of the SIM Sudan team, and we set off for Kenya, the land of supermarkets, taxis, cinemas and unlimited internet access. Here we are, on the plane:
Not content with this however, Peter and I headed off to Ethiopia for a few days to visit a friend and experience some authentic Ethiopian culture such as this:
and this:
On Sunday, we joined Theresa at one of the most startling church services I've ever attended, it felt like walking on to some show on the God Channel. The message was given by the former MP and British Ambassador to South Africa, Paul Boateng, which was a nice touch.
Tomorrow, the plan is to head west to Uganda, to visit another friend in Kampala. I feel like I should balance all this out with some tales of hardship and hardwork, lest you get the impression that this missionary gig is nothing but a fun filled grand tour of Africa, but off the top of my head I can't think of anything. When I do, I'll let you know. So instead, I shall finish with an anecdote:
The other day, while I was still in Sudan, I was chatting with a friend of mine over coffee, this guy is about my age and I asked him what happened when the war came to his village, in the mid 90's. He told me that they rounded up all the men in the village, locked them in a house and set it on fire, while he and others stood on watching. "My friend, that was a terrible sound". Indeed. That is the kind of background these guys are coming from, it doesn't bear thinking about.
The most positive thing I can say about my time in Sudan though, is that I was genuinely sorry to leave, and I am really looking forward to getting back, in spite of stories such as that one, that frequently leave me lost for words...
And there you have it, no tales of killing exotic animals, or anything even remotely amusing. I shall try to do better next time. Perhaps Uganda will prove to be a better source of comedy experiences...
It has been a while, and for that I apologise. I tried to write something the other day but I suffered the bloggers (can't believe I just used that word) equivalent of writers block. Since I last spoke to you things have taken a turn for the more unpredictable. Which is saying something when you live in Sudan.
If you've been paying attention to the news (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8616249.stm), you will know that this week is a very significant week for Sudan as they are holding their first elections in a long time. For this reason (and because, when it comes down to it, it's not really any of our business), it was decided that now would be a good time for everyone at Doro to come out to Kenya for a bit of a break.
We got wind of this idea at lunchtime last Tuesday, with a plane scheduled to pick us up at lunchtime on Wednesday, this is the same plane that I told you was due to bring us a whole host of building supplies for the new clinic. As a result of this we had a rather frantic 24 hours of getting ready to leave which included plenty of packing, lots of goodbyes, a little bit of wandering around not knowing what to do and a foray into the Sudanese bush on a quadbike, (during which Maruti & I got lost, and were faced with this scene:
at one point I wondered if we were going to make it back for the plane, but we did, after a stop of at a wedding for a cup of tea), This was followed by an even more frantic hour of unloading all the building supplies off the plane before leaving. It probably doesn't sound it, but it was a lot of fun.
And so, I was reunited with Peter (the guy in the backround of my profile picture, who is working with SIM at nearby Yabus), and the rest of the SIM Sudan team, and we set off for Kenya, the land of supermarkets, taxis, cinemas and unlimited internet access. Here we are, on the plane:
Not content with this however, Peter and I headed off to Ethiopia for a few days to visit a friend and experience some authentic Ethiopian culture such as this:
and this:
On Sunday, we joined Theresa at one of the most startling church services I've ever attended, it felt like walking on to some show on the God Channel. The message was given by the former MP and British Ambassador to South Africa, Paul Boateng, which was a nice touch.
Tomorrow, the plan is to head west to Uganda, to visit another friend in Kampala. I feel like I should balance all this out with some tales of hardship and hardwork, lest you get the impression that this missionary gig is nothing but a fun filled grand tour of Africa, but off the top of my head I can't think of anything. When I do, I'll let you know. So instead, I shall finish with an anecdote:
The other day, while I was still in Sudan, I was chatting with a friend of mine over coffee, this guy is about my age and I asked him what happened when the war came to his village, in the mid 90's. He told me that they rounded up all the men in the village, locked them in a house and set it on fire, while he and others stood on watching. "My friend, that was a terrible sound". Indeed. That is the kind of background these guys are coming from, it doesn't bear thinking about.
The most positive thing I can say about my time in Sudan though, is that I was genuinely sorry to leave, and I am really looking forward to getting back, in spite of stories such as that one, that frequently leave me lost for words...
And there you have it, no tales of killing exotic animals, or anything even remotely amusing. I shall try to do better next time. Perhaps Uganda will prove to be a better source of comedy experiences...
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
Food...
Time for another bit of education about the wonders of life in Doro.
This is our Kitchen:
(I know, I dont think it looks much like a kitchen either, but there you are...) Where our meals are prepared. Four of us take it in turns to cook for each other. Here is me, taking my turn:
Those of you who know me well will know that I am not an imaginative cook, and so it will come as no surprise to learn that I cook the same thing every week. I've taken to calling it my speciality, corned beef hash, and it is good for two reasons. First, it tastes great and provides a source of meat that is not goat (the Sudanese have a fondness for eating goat that I do not share). Second, it only requires one pan, and thus one fire. Given the amount of paraffin (I say paraffin, it is actually jet fuel we use to light our fires. no joke) related incidents I have had since arriving here this can only be a good thing. For a while I had no hair on my right hand due to a cooking related incident...if it weren't for my cat-like reactions things could have been much worse...
Today I found, and inadvertently killed (by spilling petrol on it), a funnel web spider of some kind. Due to the flurry of protest to my last spider related post I have refrained from putting up any photos this time, so you'll have to use your imagination. This, and other previously reported incidents have led to me developing a finely tuned overreaction every time something touches my leg. Even if it's one of the other missionaries...
Speaking of which, I've known ever since the first time I came to Africa in 2004 that here it is not uncommon for guys to walk around holding hands with one-another. However, I have never seen so much of this as I have here, and I can tell you, having guys randomly grab your hand takes a bit of getting used to. Even John Maruti (who I recently learned was named after a car by some missionaries, who clearly had a keen sense of humour, when his grandfather turned up late for work the day he was born), my often mentioned Kenyan sidekick does it frequently. I've really got no reason for telling you that other than because it's a vaguely amusing aspect of my life here...
In case you're interested, work on the project continues to progress well. Yesterday we got news that a (by our standards) large plane is flying in empty next wednesday, giving us an opportunity to solve several logistics headaches in one fell swoop. I came up with a list of materials that our team in Nairobi are now purchasing to fly in for us. I just hope that my rushed shopping list is at least vaguely accurate or I'm going to look like a moron...All of this is to set us up for the big push to finish the building, which will start once the aforementioned Kenyan sidekick has finished plastering the interior.
The only other thing of note to inform you of is that my long held prayer of forming good friendships with some of the local guys has begun to be answered. The last couple of days have provided good opportunities to hang out with a couple of different guys from the area and spend some time getting to know them. We're not at the holding hands stage yet, but one step at a time and all that.
Unfortunately, I also have a rather sad update for you. Within the last week, we heard news that the woman we encountered having a difficult labour, who I told you had lost her baby, also died that night after surgery. There is a harsh side to life here that can be hard to accept at times, it is important to acknowledge that amongst my random musings about how much I'm enjoying myself...
And with that, my friends, I really must go. I've twice, make that three times, heard something move in my house and it sounds big enough that I should be worried. If I'm not back in a week, send someone to look for me...
This is our Kitchen:
(I know, I dont think it looks much like a kitchen either, but there you are...) Where our meals are prepared. Four of us take it in turns to cook for each other. Here is me, taking my turn:
Those of you who know me well will know that I am not an imaginative cook, and so it will come as no surprise to learn that I cook the same thing every week. I've taken to calling it my speciality, corned beef hash, and it is good for two reasons. First, it tastes great and provides a source of meat that is not goat (the Sudanese have a fondness for eating goat that I do not share). Second, it only requires one pan, and thus one fire. Given the amount of paraffin (I say paraffin, it is actually jet fuel we use to light our fires. no joke) related incidents I have had since arriving here this can only be a good thing. For a while I had no hair on my right hand due to a cooking related incident...if it weren't for my cat-like reactions things could have been much worse...
Today I found, and inadvertently killed (by spilling petrol on it), a funnel web spider of some kind. Due to the flurry of protest to my last spider related post I have refrained from putting up any photos this time, so you'll have to use your imagination. This, and other previously reported incidents have led to me developing a finely tuned overreaction every time something touches my leg. Even if it's one of the other missionaries...
Speaking of which, I've known ever since the first time I came to Africa in 2004 that here it is not uncommon for guys to walk around holding hands with one-another. However, I have never seen so much of this as I have here, and I can tell you, having guys randomly grab your hand takes a bit of getting used to. Even John Maruti (who I recently learned was named after a car by some missionaries, who clearly had a keen sense of humour, when his grandfather turned up late for work the day he was born), my often mentioned Kenyan sidekick does it frequently. I've really got no reason for telling you that other than because it's a vaguely amusing aspect of my life here...
In case you're interested, work on the project continues to progress well. Yesterday we got news that a (by our standards) large plane is flying in empty next wednesday, giving us an opportunity to solve several logistics headaches in one fell swoop. I came up with a list of materials that our team in Nairobi are now purchasing to fly in for us. I just hope that my rushed shopping list is at least vaguely accurate or I'm going to look like a moron...All of this is to set us up for the big push to finish the building, which will start once the aforementioned Kenyan sidekick has finished plastering the interior.
The only other thing of note to inform you of is that my long held prayer of forming good friendships with some of the local guys has begun to be answered. The last couple of days have provided good opportunities to hang out with a couple of different guys from the area and spend some time getting to know them. We're not at the holding hands stage yet, but one step at a time and all that.
Unfortunately, I also have a rather sad update for you. Within the last week, we heard news that the woman we encountered having a difficult labour, who I told you had lost her baby, also died that night after surgery. There is a harsh side to life here that can be hard to accept at times, it is important to acknowledge that amongst my random musings about how much I'm enjoying myself...
And with that, my friends, I really must go. I've twice, make that three times, heard something move in my house and it sounds big enough that I should be worried. If I'm not back in a week, send someone to look for me...
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