We packed the kitchen and the pantry, keeping just a couple spoons, bowls and plates for use in the next couple days. Its popcorn, scrambled eggs, bananas and P.B.J. for us from here on out, except for the Maasai meals of the next three days.
Doug went down to our neighbors where he finished up the plumbing system he designed with them for their new house. Its a basic hook-up to the public water pipe.
Meanwhile, I sat down to get a few thoughts out for my speech tomorrow, my last words to the broader Maasai population of this region. Just then, a neighbor opened the gate. And I spent the next three plus hours sitting in the living room with her and her daughter, looking at the photos books of the Najile neighbors interspersed with moments of silence. Near the end, two more neighbors came in and sat with us. Since my Maa is limited, especially after three hours, this picked up the conversation flow significantly.
About that time, Doug returned. He mentioned that the neighbor who had promised to bring us a chicken, in fact, had kept her promise. It is currently boarding at the next door neighbor's till we can decide her fate.
To wrap up the day, between 5 and 6 p.m. came the flurry of kids asking for lip medicine (which I don't have), or for water to drink, or ladies coming wanting to fill their jerrycans because the water flow is slow at the other watering point (and then they all want a plastic bag to help seal the lid, which I also don't have to give today).
Life here can be like a roller coaster. In the late day rush of people came my regular begging neighbor and today she went through her routine. I kindly refused over and over to give her more things. (I'd already hosted and fed her earlier in the day). However, she wouldn't give up and she took it just a few steps too far when she asked me for the clothes I was currently wearing. For three years now, I've fought to find ways to build relationship and dignity with this woman. At that moment, I tried to fight the blow to our dignity, both hers and mine which that kind of behavior perpetrates. But, despite all my head knowledge, I was hurt and mad.
Moments later, a colleague and friend dropped by with his hands full of gifts for us. Big meaningful gifts, completely the opposite of what I'd just experienced. Among the gifts was an orkwatiti for me. It was the tail of a wildebeest attached to a handle. This, he said, is a very special piece. It represents leadership. It is for a leader to bless others at special events. Oh, and also you can swat flies.
The orkwatiti belonged to my father, he said. I've saved it all these years. He'd lost his father at the age of 12. His father, a powerful man in the community, was assasinated by his driver. My eyes got huge. You are giving this to me?! Are you sure?! (Its impolite to question a gift, but I couldn't help it, it just slipped out because I was so shocked and touched). Yes, he said. This is a very hard thing to find now-a-days, he repeated. Yes indeed.
We thought we were through for the day, as the last light faded over Mt. Suswa and we closed the front door. But this was not to be. A final guest arrived in the form of the dear mzee pastor. I quickly pulled out the tea making materials and fed him a humble dinner of eggs and bread on the few eating utensils available in our nearly empty house, while Doug hosted and made conversation about corn, beans, bees and the drought.
At long last, this day is ending.
Incredible. God bless K. And I'm so happy Doug got the plumbing done! Also incredible! Praying for you, sister, and counting down with you from here.
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