Sam and I fought the maggots, while Blair fought a war of her own.

Last night, I came into the family room- I had just finished listening to Freakonomics and drinking a warm cup of Milo- to discover our new problem. Maggots. Maggots are probably one of my top ten biggest fears. I saw a movie when I was younger where there was some man that had maggots coming out of his ears. Maybe it was a nightmare, or both.

Sam bravely ventured onto the porch (he followed the trail) and found the source, a garbage can full of rotten fruit. Thanks for whoever did that. So he bravely, for lack of a better word, picked it up to take it downstairs and there was a big fat pile of maggots. (sorry if this blog is making you sick. It makes me sick thinking about it again.) After he ran it to the garbage pile downstairs (let me take a quick moment to emphasize that it literally is a pile. We throw it into this bushy/grassy area and some guy with a handcart picks it up twice a week), we discussed how we would battle these creatures.

This is when I became a 9 year old cub scout. My brothers would be so proud. All those days of burning worms on the way to school finally paid off. Not only were we fearless, but creative too. First, we used DOOM which kills flies and basically anything that lives. But not maggots. Then, we used all the bug spray we could find the house. I even soaked one of the maggots in windex. It just moved a little slower, but squeakily clean towards our apartment door. Oh and there was salt too. They seemed to like that.

That’s when Sam had an epiphany. Matches. Sam went out onto the porch equipped with his headlamp in hand and a dust pan to begin scraping them into a pile. I became the regulator. I used my Ribena bottle (just like Koolaid, black currant flavoring..soo good) to keep them in the pile. After many dramatic moments, the maggots blended in very well with our tile which caused a lot of gasps, we were ready to roast. We doused them with all sorts of bug spray, corn oil, DOOM, etc. You name it; we tried to soak them in it. Then we lit it on fire.

But I didn’t feel like a 9 year old cub scout yet. It was when we soaked the metal door frame with bug spray and lit it on fire that I felt like a cub scout because we had not only killed the bugs we saw but we attempted to kill those that could be.

Meanwhile, Blair, as previously stated, was fighting a battle of her own. We have turned into sugar obsessives here. She found a recipe for microwave brownies and as we burned the maggots we could smell the delicious scent of chocolate coming from the kitchen.

We finally rested after our fight with the maggots (which are still sitting in a bug repellent, corn oil covered pile on our porch) and chewed on the sadly burnt microwave brownies. It is also sad that I still loved them. They may have been burnt but they were so good and gave us courage to try again. And that’s all that matters.

Yes Dad, They Do have Wishbone in Africa

Well I don’t have much to say tonight. Just thought I’d write a word or two since I’m posting a bunch of pictures.

I was sitting at work, talking with Peter, the new marketing fella, and I could barely hear him over the singing church at the park. I decided that, yes, I needed to go experience some religion today.

Who knows who owns this park. Seriously. Whoever gets there first with a platform, generator, and religious mob gets it. I walked over there and stood next to the stragglers. Those that wished they had they courage to dance with the rest but sit on the curb and watch. Of course, I whipped out my camera, not very sneakily, but I told those stragglers that I thought it was interesting and that was a good enough reason.

After 2 bad pictures of people running in circles, throwing their hands in the air, and singing back at the preacher, I had a straggler come tell me that I should not take pictures of people worshipping Christ. That was fair. This regulator danced his way back to an empty spot on the asphalt and proceeded to pretend like he was playing the electric guitar while looking over at me periodically to make sure that I wasn’t taking pictures and trying to prove that he was one of the clan.

The rest of the walk was uneventful. I walked with a 7 year old that said he was 13 and was eating a lime sprinkled with some orange goodness. Because of our language barrier, after our 10 minute “conversation,” I still didn’t know what was on it.

I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to photograph how happy I felt about seeing Wishbone salad dressing. I wish I could say that I was loyal and bought it. Tonight’s dinner was warm pasta salad (we have to cook those veggies) which was prepared by me and pineapple chunks in passion flavored yogurt. While I prepared, I listened to Freakanomics and 5 kids sat on the balcony staring at me, singing alleluia, and roughing up the plants.

Here's for the PICS:

http://byu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=6566&l=7e331&id=586037020

The Bats and I did Laundry

The roof makes the apartment. Last night, I decided I didn’t want to endanger any of my clothes to the bleeding experience that happened last time. So after a 5 hour soak, I rinsed and hung my laundry at 10:30. Of course, I had to wear my sweet headlamp (thank you mama) and hose myself and my dress in bug spray. (Yes the horrible dress that bled all over my clothes last time)

I’ll be honest. I hate hand washing clothes, but I love the urban feel of hanging my clothes on the line. And the urban feel of everything. We have guards at our gates to greet us and there are kids riding their bikes inside the gate, playing hide and seek behind the cars. When I wake up in the morning, as I brush my teeth, I wave over to the next apartment whose kitchen window is 10 feet away from ours. It feels like we cook dinner with them every night.

There are babies crying all the time-but it will all of the sudden go completely quiet and you will hear a few women softly singing, harmonized and everything. The little kids all yell from balcony to balcony to see if someone wants to play or if it is time to go home for dinner. Sometimes I go up on the roof to sit and read and the little kids will hide behind the pillars around me whispering mzungu or just hiding until I chase them to the stairs. I also love the sound of cats fighting each other. That’s another class favorite.

So back to my thoughts on laundry in the dark on our apartment roof. It is great. I listened to some great tunes-you know some Postal Service, The Corrs, and Coldplay. And as I sat down on the cement, next to the laundry line, I saw a shooting star go all the way across the sky and watched the bats chase each other. Not a bad life.

African Chairs

After our ride from Ukunda today, I decided to let you all in on a little game we get to play everyday. It’s so fun to be a kid again and I thought hey my American friends would love this. Sorry it is so long- it needs some editing but Sam wanted to talk about it in his blog so it had to go up.

Set-up

1.Get a van. Preferably a 1980s-1990s Toyota 15-passenger van. Make sure it has 4 rows of seats and add another one. Perhaps a bench in the back that looks like it has 3 separate seats.

2.Find a friend that loves to drive. You may not love the way they drive, but make sure that they exaggerate every turn and lane change so that everyone in the car has to hold on for dear life.

3. Find another friend that loves to hassle people - someone who is very convincing and likes to push people around. Even someone who looks to organize people. They will be your “conductor”.

4. Make sure that the speedometer ,odometer, and gas gauge don’t work. It makes it more fun if the driver has to guess if they need to get gas.

5. Pick a very 90s or early 2000 rap selection full of those whiny rap love songs and “riding dirty” type songs.

6. Pick a time limit for the driver. If they beat the time limit, they win. If they don’t, they lose. All of your friends are there to keep the driver and conductor from winning.

7. No one in the van is allowed to wear deodorant. We call this African BO.

8. No air conditioning and all the windows open - That way people can’t talk to each other to conspire against the driver.

How to Play

At the beginning of the game, the driver and the conductor are sent off in the van to pick up friends. The friends need to be waiting in front of their house ready to go because this friend of yours, the driver, can’t wait. The conductor hangs his or her head out of the window and whistles, hisses, or yells to alert riders that they are coming. Make sure that new riders don’t climb all the way into the back. That would be too easy. They need to sit in the first available seat they see, even if it is the one next to the door. The driver should pick a route full of bikers, people walking, pot holes, and big puddles. Maybe a bike trail? Remember the more off-roading the driver can do the better.

Once your van is full, the game can officially begin. When a person would like to play, they just knock their knuckle against the metal side of the van. This indicates that they would like to get out of the van. Now everyone has to scramble to move out of the way because the driver is in a hurry to beat the clock. Some people will be in the way and will make people climb over them. If you are the driver, just start honking or driving. It makes people move faster. If you are a passenger, try to take as much time as possible. The driver wants to be able to pick up as may people as you can because each person is worth 5 points (15 shillings). So make sure you fill each seat.

The Real Deal

If you feel like you have mastered this game, think again. Add a few of these fun little numbers, but don’t add them all at once.

1. Don’t attach the bench in the backseat and get a van that doesn’t have a working back door. This way, when the back back seat passengers go over a bump, the back window opens up. It scares them a little bit and makes them more compliant.
2. There is no limit on the number of people in the van. Squish people in wherever you can. They can sit where there is no seat or stand in the door well. Or both.
3. Add children. Lots of little children. In our game, we’ve seen 3 children sitting in the same seat. They are great for points because they take practically no space.
4. Talk to your friends. Get more vans and compete for the same friends. Make sure your conductor is the loudest and most obnoxious person you know-that’s how you will get the most passengers.
5. Have your friends bring sacks of whatever they can think of. Even gunny sacks full of produce anywhere you can fit them. When we play, passengers often have to put their feet on the gunny sacks or sit with a bag of coconuts.
6. Strap a mattress to the back
7. Play at night. But get black lights. Makes it livelier.
8. Stickers. Lots of stickers bought from a street vendor that doesn’t know how to spell.
9. Extra points for creative driving. Decide ahead of time how to award not crazy but “smart” driving. Use sidewalks, pass on the wrong side of the road, or cut people off.
10. The conductor can win points for the driver too. Points for lying about where the driver is going, where the stops are, and whether or not they will make the stops.
11. Points for dodging urban livestock or whatever obstacles are common in your town
12. The van should not have shocks or a padded ceiling. Passengers are more compliant if they are constantly smacking their head into the metal ceiling.
13. If there is a rear view window, hang some sort of religious manuscript or photo.
14. Lastly, find people with cameras. They will be classified as “tourists.” Tourists are like catching the golden snitch in Quidditch. They don’t know where they are going and you can easily convince them that the rough conditions are normal. Why would they know the difference.

Don’t worry, if you can’t get a van (the biggest expense of the game) my Mom has one.

RS and Other Church Thoughts

I’ve been thinking today, well I guess more the last couple of weeks, how would people react if the same questions that are asked or the same lessons that are taught in the Mombasa Branch were taught in my home ward. Would they fall away from the church or just laugh?

Today in Priesthood, Sam said that the teacher said “If anyone doesn’t like the person they home teach please raise your hand.” Priesthood is an interesting concept here. Lessons are often about the EQP urging people to tell their kids how much money they make. Andrew and Sam have both expressed delight about this repetitive lesson that goes over at least 10-15 minutes each week.

In RS, well it is just a whole horse of a different color. Today, our lesson was on nutrition. Well it was supposed to be on nutrition for mother and baby. During the nutrition portion of the lesson, we learned about the food groups: proteins, carbs, vitamins, and water. That makes sense. During the health portion, she wrote the word “bathe” on the board. Beatrice also expressed sorrow for the extra weight she was carrying after talking about exercise. She even jumped up and down to show us how she truly couldn’t jump anymore because of all the weight. The hygiene portion was very informative. People on the street can’t smile if they walk past you and you smell bad. We all need to wear deodorant. I agree.

I like RS though. (as Darlene refers to it.) Apart from the fact that you can’t hear over the children belting “mopping the floor is fun to do” as they play musical chairs in the next room, we all feel important in the society. New members and investigators are singled out and called upon for “contributions.” And at the end of every lessons, Karen, RS President, says “So who’d like to teach next week?”

Sacrament Meeting is easily the best part of church. I love being able to play the piano on the little electronic keyboard. Someone even stacked two chairs for me so that I can sit higher and not mess up so much. I think I’ve gotten past the finger shaking stage because the congregation is used to hymns without a melody and they carry on with or without you. The chorister sometimes picks a melody of her own. And everyone follows, Kenyan accents and all.

I’ll admit I laughed out loud when it had been about 15 seconds since someone went up and bore their testimony and the Branch President, from his seat, said that more people need to share testimonies.

I guess there is a lesson to learn from all of this. Our church is too awkward. At the Mombasa Branch, they tell it like it is. And they make everyone feel welcome. You have to shake every members hand at least 5 times before you can call it good and go home.

Kongowea Fashions

I have a few thoughts about shopping I would like to share. Shopping in Kenya is wonderful for many reasons. I discovered yesterday after living here for 30 days that I probably need more clothes. My hand washing failed me after some of my clothes bled on others. So on our way to work we stopped at the obnoxious, filthy Kongowea market.

There isn't a single clothing store in the United States that hires 40 year old men that give fashion advice. Immediately when I walked into the first "shop" I was evaluated. The old man that owned the shop saw what I was interested in and began offering other items that I obviously would've wanted. You know, Mervyn, Walmart, and ShopKo specials with fabulous tie dye, lacy, or flowery prints. Lots of flow in the arms and real low cut in the front. And this held true for every shop we went to. It was amazing to me that they all knew exactly what I was looking for.

I thoroughly enjoyed when I put on a shirt and then found out that the only mirror they had was in the dressing room. Someone was in the dressing room but the shop owner yelled into the dressing room insisting that they get out so I could see myself. I guess it is really important that I see what I look like. Obviously more important than any other person. But I declined and Andrew took a picture instead..look to the left (and yes I did figure out that posting pictures is easy. I'm just not so smart.)

People say that Americans and Europeans are ruining the clothing industry in Kenya because they send over old clothes that can be sold for so cheap that a Kenyan based clothing company would not be able to compete. I can now say I agree. Not only are they ruining the clothing industry, they are promoting terrible fashions. The clothing here makes me feel a little like living in the 90s, but not in a good way.

Don't worry though, I did get a couple great shirts. What a bummer that they were 4 bucks a piece. Sometimes, well a lot of times I hate being a tourist.

The Hots

I thought I would type while my body temperature is still over 100 degrees. Tonight, we were invited to the Msafari household for dinner. They live in Bombolulu which is a matatu or two away. So keep in mind that the temperature today was around 75 degrees, maybe hotter-and very humid. I’m sweatin by the time we get to their apartment and we sit down with President Msafiri (he is the previous branch president) and talk to him about his work in Sudan. After about an hour of sitting there, sweating, we are served hot chocolate. Yes, hot chocolate. Of course, it was delicious but it was hard to enjoy because all of my taste buds fell off and I felt like someone lit my body on fire.

But dinner was great. I really can’t complain. Patience Msafiri (pronounced mmmsafeeree) cooked for at least 2 hours (not including the time before we came) to prepare for the meal. We tried to help and Blair and I did help pick off the leaves of the mchicha, but she insisted on cooking it herself-over a charcoal stove set up. We arrived at 6 and did not eat until about 8 or 8:30. Patience sure cooked us a buffet though. We had pilau-meat and seasoned rice, mchica-basically spinach, chapatti-african tortillas, bananas and potatoes cooked in a really good sauce, mango smoothies, and oh ya the hot chocolate-which she made on her stove and then we added sugar (it tasted a lot like the Mexican hot chocolate).

The night ended with the Msafiris sharing their experience in joining the church, and all of us doing the same. I couldn’t believe all the effort that went into the dinner, and they wouldn’t even let us help with the dishes. Next time they are coming to our apartment for some American food. After recalling that we don’t have an oven, we are going to go for our world-class spaghetti (we really have made it award winning) and try to figure out 5 dishes that go with that. Oh goodie.

Oh and here's more pics:

http://byu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=5765&l=aad4f&id=586037020