How Did You Know I Was There?

In Kenya, students stay put in one classroom and the teachers rotate between classrooms. A Form II student is the official time-keeper and rings the bells when each period is over. The teacher currently in the classroom will have to come out and the next one will enter.

As a muzungu, I keep time. As soon as the bell rings, I finish what I was saying and exit. Some teachers are notorious for overstaying their lesson. They might even take 10 or more minutes of the next teacher's lesson. I don't. The other teachers have gotten used to my unusual habit of being on time. If I am the lesson after theirs, they know that I will be standing outside the door waiting my turn.

My Form III East classroom is in the back corner of the academic part of the compound. The door stays closed most of the time because it is cool in that area. The path to the classroom cannot be seen from the door and the windows on that side of the room are about six feet high so teachers can't see out them.

I arrive and stand back out of the way so when the door opens I won't get hit. Unless the teacher is taking a lot of my time I stay away from the windows so they can't see me.

Yesterday Mr. Siwa was finishing his biology lesson when I arrived. I stood in my usual waiting place. After a few minutes he asked, "Is she here?" I heard many student reply in the affirmative.

I had gotten nowhere near the windows or door. Now that I am wearing regular shoes, they couldn't have heard by boot and cane. My shadow hadn't gone across the windows.

When I got in class I asked, "How did you know I was standing outside the door or were you guessing?"

Their answer was, "No, we could smell you!"

"What! I take a shower every morning. What do you mean you can smell me?"

"It's your perfume."

Concerned I asked, "Is it too strong? Do I need to stop wearing it?"

Laughingly they told me they liked it.

Who would have ever thought that my presence could have been detected when I was standing at least four feet away from the open windows!

Perhaps Monkeys Aren't so Cute

John and I have always enjoyed seeing the monkeys that live around Kitale. Sometimes we see them in the trees or on the fence surrounding our compound. John calls them his little angels. I look for them each morning on the school grounds when I arrive. Often there are mothers with little babies hanging onto their stomachs. Most Kenyans view them as a nuisance. They eat crops and destroy things.

Our compound dogs don't like the monkeys. Whenever they see them in the trees they bark and bark go crazy. (Dina is doing so right now!) I think the monkeys tease them which doesn't help matters.

We have lived here almost four years now. It wasn't until about a year ago that I realized one of the high pitched sounds I thought was a bird was actually monkeys chattering.

At school they are viewed as a pest. They cause problems getting in the garbage, stealing maize out of the store in the kitchen, getting in the dorms, running across the tin roofs causing lessons to be interrupted due to the noise. It is illegal to kill them but if they cause too much harm, we can call the Kenyan Wildlife Service and they will come and shoot some.

I have even heard of monkeys getting into people's homes.

On Thursday afternoons, John and I are both finished teaching at noon. We like to come home and spend the afternoon working here. I was sitting in the reading alcove in our hallway yesterday afternoon. I thought I saw something in my peripheral vision but when I turned to look, nothing was there. A few minutes later I heard a small sound. A monkey had come in through a bedroom window and was in the hallway. When I saw him I shooed him and he ran back out.

The windows were wide open and they had easy access. So John and I closed them. A few minutes later lunch was ready. John and I were eating when I looked up and that same monkey had come through the grill on the front door. The bars on that door are 4 1/2 inches apart. I guess that was also easy access.

I never thought I'd have monkeys in my house! Maybe they aren't so cute after all!

Monkeys in the Science Lab

John and I love seeing the monkeys in Kitale. It is so much fun to catch sight of swaying trees knowing there are monkeys playing in them jumping from branch to branch. Every once in awhile you can catch sight of them jumping from one tree to the next. In fact John calls them his angels.

However, they can be a menace. They drive guard dogs crazy. The dogs can see them and start barking but the monkeys just tease them knowing there is no way the dogs can reach them.

They raid garbage heaps for food. There are usually monkeys around the incinerator that is near my Form III classroom going through the trash before the workman has a chance to burn the trash on Monday mornings.



Not too long ago, our boarding mistress warned the girls to make sure the latch the dorm windows before they go to class because there had been reports of monkeys in the dorms on the beds looking for food. All I could think of the was the song, "Ten little monkeys jumping the the bed. Once fell off and bumped his head. Mama called the doctor and the doctor saidm, "No more monkeys jumping on the bed!"

Because I am so unbalanced with this boot, I can't stand up long enough for the 30 - 45 minute parade on Monday and Friday morning. I've been going into the physics lab to sit in the doorway during parade. I can't hear everything, but bits and pieces. Yesterday while I was sitting there, the monkeys came into the science lab. Unfortunately I wasn't able to get a good picture of them jumping from one lab table to another.

Friends Across Borders 2013

FAB (Friends Across Borders) is a program sponsored by Maryknoll Lay Missioners that provides an opportunity for people to travel to countries where MKLM live and work.

The purpose is to expose the travelers to a different culture and life style and see first hand the work we are doing.

I am the FAB coordinator for Kenya and work with Cecilia in New York. Basically that means I work with her making all the

travel arrangements, housing reservations, meals, and schedule. I don’t have to do it all alone. Curt is the Mombasa coordinator and he has been a huge help.

This year the FAB group had 12 participants: 10 newcomers to Kenya and 2 former lay missioners that have lived and worked here as in-country guides. Four of the group were from Edmonton, Canada, two from Miami, two from Wisconsin, two from Minnesota. This time they were all retired people.


They came to Kitale first spending five days here, four days in Mombasa and the final three days on safari. We scheduled visits to all our ministry sites as well as some historical and cultural tours. I’m afraid the only pictures we have of them were during their visits to John and my schools. I thought you might enjoy.

At Weaver Bird they stopped by the Form IV classes to wish them luck on their upcoming KCSE exams, visited John’s Form I and II classes and chatted with his YCS (Young Catholic Student) group. The highlight of that visit was visiting the school kitchen.
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Ukarimu Retreat Centre

In July I had an appointment to meet Sr. Pat who had been recommended to me as a spiritual adviser. As she lives in Nairobi, it is difficult to meet, so we decided to meet at Ukarimu Spirituality Centre between Nairobi and Kitale where she would be leading a workshop. It worked out that she was going to be there over a weekend so I was able to travel there and back staying less than 24 hours. It was such a beautiful place I wish I could have stayed there longer.

When I got home I raved about it to my fellow MKLM. Margaret commented that she would be ready for a retreat during August holiday so the three of us decided to go down for several days at the end of August. They were as thrilled with the place as I was.

The centre, run by the Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word, which has been there since the 1960s has recently been renovated. The rooms are large and airy with tile floors and hot, hot showers! Originally the doors to the rooms opened to the outside. As Molo is colder than Kitale, it was freezing. They put a nice glass enclosed walkway in front of the rooms with a little crannies with cozy chairs for reading to take care of that problem.

They had a little stream that ran along the side of their property. They decided to divert it to create a running brook with little waterfalls that empties out into two little ponds.

That tall plant growing in the water is papyrus. I had always wondered what it looked like. Can't you see how Moses's basket got caught in the papyrus along the water's edge.

Near the book is a labyrinth that you can use for prayer.

There is a beautiful church that looks out onto a beautiful view of the hills nearby. It is a beautiful place to rest and refresh yourself.

While we were there we all met with Father Brian, a priest from Ireland who is available for spiritual direction. He is a dear wise man who was so easy to talk to. We all fell in love with him.

There were a group of young sisters also on retreat there. They told us they were "cousins" to the sisters that run the retreat centre: Sisters of the Incarnate Word. They laughed and said they were working on their charity. We saw them at meals although they didn't eat with us and in evenings huddled around the fireplace to get warm.

We had such a good time while we were there we extended our stay an extra day. When we were ready to leave Fr. Brian was going to take us to the station where we could catch a matatu or a bus. Margaret was going back to Kitale while John and I were headed to Nairobi. As luck would have it, a group of sisters from a nearby house needed to go into Molo to do their monthly shopping. They gave us a ride into Molo itself and helped us get our tickets and sent us on our way. We had a delightful visit in the back of their pickup sitting on bench seats with another group of young sisters. Talking about coincidences, the Sister in charge of these young nuns is from Mexico. I think she also enjoyed seeing someone from "home". Next time we go back, we'll have to make a visit to see them also. I guess they live about 3 kilometers away. That would be a nice walk.

Adventures with a Boot

Once upon a time there was a girl named Cindy. One day while on her way to class, she stumbled stubbing her toe. She was so glad she didn't fall and no one saw her. Her foot hurt, but the local x-ray didn't show any problem.

However as time passed, her foot hurt worse and in a different place. She saw a podiatrist while she was visiting the big city. He sent her for a CT scan which showed two fractures: an older bone chip and a new stress fracture of a metatarsal. His recommendation was to have her wear a boot for 8 weeks. Unfortunately, he didn't have a boot in her size. Fortunately, there was one in town and he could have it sent over. Unfortunately, he had a meeting that couldn't be missed so he made arrangements for his nurse to do the fitting.

Cindy got the call that the boot had arrived and went to get it. The nurse put the boot on her foot and she merrily stumbled out the door and went on her way. After several days Cindy noticed that the top piece of the boot was rubbing the skin of her leg causing a bruise and sore. "This can't be right," she thought to herself, "I wonder what would happen if I put the nice, soft bootie on the other way. Low and behold, it fit better. "Wow," she thought, "I'm sure I have been putting my foot in the bootie the way the nurse showed me. Let me check in the instruction book to see for sure." Sure enough, the new way of wearing the bootie was the correct way.

Several days later the bootie became dirty. "It's time to wash the bootie. Since there is an extra one, let me start using that one while the other is washed."

"Oh my, she thought when she put the clean bootie on,"this sure feels strange. There isn't nearly enough padding in this one. I can't wait until the other one is dry so I can start wearing it again." She had a miserable day slipping and sliding in the unpadded boot.

That night Cindy's husband got hit in the head by the drying bootie on the clothesline in the bedroom. He looked at it. "I wonder," he thought, "there is a zipper in the bootie. Do you suppose you can take the padding out of it and put it in the other one?" Both were amazed when he was able to successfully move the padding from one bootie to the other.

While he was changing the bootie he decided to try to put more air into the padding inflating it with his own breath. The little pump that came with the boot didn't seem to be much help. "Amazing," Cindy said the next morning when she put the bootie on. "There has never been so much air in the bootie before. It sure feels better and more secure."

Several days later the top piece of the boot kept slipping out of place. "This isn't doing any good today," Cindy thought. "I wonder . . . Do you suppose that I could turn this piece around. Maybe it would fit better and not move." Low and behold, the top piece fit better turned the other way. "Maybe I ought to check the instruction book again and see if I have been wearing it wrong," she mused. Can you believe it, she had been wearing the upside down!

Moral of the story: Read the instruction book!
(The top piece is upside down in this photo.

Hospital Stay

The first week of July I (John) came down with a bad case of malaria, it did not help that I was very tired when I came down with it. After three different types of medication and missing almost of week of school I thought I was recovering knowing I was not 100% but I went back to school. Kathy, a clinical officer (physician’s assistant), asked me to be checked again for malaria so several days later I did. I couldn’t believe it, I still had malaria.

The following morning, Cindy, Kathy and I went to Kiminini Cottage Hospital, a Catholic hospital which Kathy had worked at. They tested me again to make sure I had malaria and then started me on first of three IVs with quinine. At that stage it had to be given intravenously over a 24 hour period. I did get the one private room in the hospital. The room was about 10 by 10 feet with a private Western style toilet. There with 2 plastic lawn chairs, a single bed with a foam mattress, a small bedside stand, and the metal stand (very simple but adequate) to hold the IV.

The nurse who inserted the needle for the IV apologized and said, “Sorry” before putting in the needle my vein. The IV took 4 hours and then you need to wait another 4 hours before stating the next IV. For lunch I was given a tasty meal of green grams (similar to lentils) and rice by a delightful woman named Tabitha. Cindy and Kathy left so they could be home before dark. For supper I had cooked plantains (cooking bananas similar to boiled potatoes) and a couple pieces of meat in sauce. Since there was nothing else to do I started reading the book, “Killing Lincoln” by Bill O’Reilly. The night of rest was better than I thought it would be considering the quality of the bed and having a needle stuck in my arm.

The next morning after I awoke, the nurses changed, Tabitha came with my breakfast of porridge in a thermos and a hard

boiled egg, and of course black tea. Cindy came later with some snacks for me plus drinking water and fruit. I started my third IV around 8:00 in the morning. After Cindy arrived, Tabitha came back and asked in Swahili if I wanted some hot water to bathe. She left, boiled some water and came back with it in a large plastic basin so I could give myself a sponge bath in my bathroom. Finally around 11:00 they came back to take another blood sample. After about an hour and a half we found out the results were negative. Praise God! So an hour later we paid the bill which must be done in Kenyan hospitals before you can leave we journeyed back home. Often patients must pay in advance before they can even be treated. By allowing us to pay afterwards, it was an example of white privilege.

By American standards all of this would seem unsanitary and about 100 years out of date. For me, I was very satisfied by treatment and hospitality shown by all of the hospital staff. I am truly thankful to them and Kathy in helping me recover from my bout with malaria.

During my stay and recovery I realized something which I have never experienced to such an extent, I had seen the face of God! That is something as a missioner we are encouraged to do in our work, to see the face of God in all we meet. No, the face of God wasn’t the Pope, a bishop, a priest, surely not in a rich person or politician, it was not a white person. She was in a short, Kenyan woman with missing teeth, who had not finished primary school, who could not speak English and probably couldn’t read. It was the cook, Tabitha. Her smiling face radiated out encouragement to me that all would be ok. Yes, I am truly blessed.