But the ride was uneventful, not to many goat jams - one or two is to be expected. We did however decide that there were four hills, not three as we had previously counted. One hill doesn’t actually seem like a hill as it isn’t as steep as the others but it is more precarious than the others and definitely qualifies as a hill. So we revised our earlier logistical information. Our topographical plan now indicates two hills before Sakeri and two hills after Sakeri. Sakeri, pronounced Sageri is the center of commerce for this part of the Rift Valley. It actually looks more like a village than Ilkiloret does. There are shops and hotels (restaurants), and a big market on Thursdays. It reminds me a bit of my hometown in that if you blinked while going through it you might miss it all together, that and on a day when there is no market, it looks like a ghost town.
In the morning when I had first arrived at Rebecca’s, before heading to school, a HUGE beetle came around the corner of the house rolling a ball of dirt at least 3 times it’s size. It was so comical! I took a video. I will upload it to You Tube and give you the link here…but from, as I am not at the cyber that will have to wait. So check back!
Joel, who works with the MIDI project, came by for tea and told me that inside that ball are the beetles eggs and mama beetle is looking for a place to hide her eggs.
“So that means…there are going to be lots of baby beetles around some time soon?”
Joel just smiled.
I looked at Rebecca and mimed that I didn’t want beetles in my kitanda (bed), she said, “of course not.”
I am however, now fearing a beetle infestation when I return to Ilkiloret next week!
Class went well, however I woke up at 2:30 a.m. on Tuesday night and could not go back to sleep, so I was really tired. Janet said she could tell, hopefully that was because of the bags under my eyes (no make-up to cover them up) and not my energy level, which I can usually crank up when necessary. We went home for lunch and then back to Janet’s for our afternoon chat.
I can’t tell you how much I enjoy hanging out in Janet’s manyatta in the afternoon. This week was especially fun. Mama Semarian, Rebecca’s sister and the mother of Hannah Semarian a deaf girl who is in Wezesha’s program, came over to tell me about a meeting she attended at Hannah’s school. She has recently started learning sign language and I asked her if it improved her ability to communicate with Hannah. Her face lit up, of course, she said, it’s so fun to be able to talk to her and understand what she wants.
I actually curl up next to Janet for a while and take a nap. It’s overcast and there aren’t so many flies in Janet’s manyatta so I dose off quickly. I wake up to Janet asking me if I know what ghee is. Yes, I say, it’s homemade cooking fat. But sometimes it’s used like Vaseline too. Nasty smelling stuff, made from milk and I don’t know what else. Mama Semarian is busy cooking ghee when I wake up. Rebecca is seated in the doorway of the manyatta beading. She motions for me to site down on the cowhide that is spread of the floor and starts to show me how to bead. This takes a bit of effort for me, as my hands are always a bit shaky. But I finish one section of a collar and am quite pleased with my handiwork!
While seated there tea is brought, which also brings the flies. In one mouthful of tea I nearly swallow a fly that miscalculated and landed in my tea. It’s actually the second time that day that I nearly ate a fly, as one also miscalculated its landing and ended up in my lunch!
A child appears in the doorway and then another, one in particular captures my attention … some people are naturally photogenic and photos of this child are magical.
The chief arrives home and we go outside to greet him. A few minutes later it’s time to leave. Janet escorts Mama Semarian, Rebecca and I back to the school, which is half way between her compound and Rebecca’s home. There are women gathering water with donkeys at the MIDI water tank by the school. I ask Janet where they are from.
“You see those hills, the ones way over there. That’s where they come from,” she says.
“It’s after 3 p.m. in the afternoon, how long will it take them to get home,” I ask.
“They will probably reach after 8 p.m.,” Janet says. “It’s far!”
When we arrive home, I do my laundry and try to not be overly bothered by the flies. That evening sitting outside waiting for dinner to finish cooking, Joel asks Eleza about me and she answers, “Jessica is ours.” She had thrown a tantrum earlier, and he tells her, “Jessica doesn’t like children who cry,” and she said. “Then I will never cry again.”
Ezekiel, her 5-year-old brother, warmed up to me pretty fast, by week two he had become my shadow. Now in week five they vie for my lap when the dinner hour approaches (8 p.m.) and they are tired. This week, after her tantrum, Eleza snuggled in for nap on my lap as I sat on a plastic chair in front of the cow enclosure and admired the full moon.
I should have taken a picture of the moon…but besides the fact it is difficult to capture moonlight; I did not want to break the spell of tranquility that having that small body nestled against me sprinkled into my soul.
Later that evening as I got ready for bed, I remembered I had not photographed the shuka I was given by James the night before. So I got my camera and motioned Eleza who was already in bed to come sit next too me on the floor so I could photograph the shuka. I think when Eleza sees the camera she thinks it’s because a picture of her is to be taken. The flash goes off and she eagerly cranes her neck to see her photo. She starts laughing at herself in the picture and I quickly snap another frame. Pure joy is not easy to capture, you have to think ahead to catch the exact moment.
Yes, Eleza, I am yours. And you, my sweet, funny little girl, are mine.
Lala Salama! (Sweet Dreams!)
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